Five

The elusive breeze teased the listless topsails of the weary ship. It also gently lifted a wayward strand of copper hair on the solitary figure staring out across the gentle swell of the blue waters of Gulf Saint Vincent on the southern coast of the great Southland of Australia.

Kate rubbed her hand across the perspiration on her forehead. The man quietly approaching her frowned slightly. It was hot with no sea breeze, but this was cool in comparison to the inland heat of Australia at this time of the year. He smiled gently at her as she peered up at the limp sails.

He stifled a sigh and said, “Will not be long now, Miss Farnley.”

She jumped and swung around swiftly with a slight frown. Then one of her radiant smiles nearly dazzled him.

“Oh, Adam, is it not exciting? But it is also so frustrating. So close, and now the wind has dropped!”

For a moment Adam stared at her, drinking in her beauty. He could not tell her that he was a mixture of churning, contradictory emotions. One moment he wanted this journey to go on forever that he might always be near her. At other times the torment of being with her without the intimacies his soul craved, knowing she could never be his, was an agony beyond description.

Her own smile faltered slightly, and he shook himself, forcing himself to smile gently at her sparkling face.

The familiar sharp pang of anguish that always came when she smiled at him just so had an added strength this day. Their cozy times together aboard ship would so soon be finished.

Once the passengers bound for South Australia had disembarked and fresh supplies were brought aboard, they would sail once again and be on their last leg of this long voyage to Sydney. Once there, he would no longer sit across from her at every meal, enjoying her bright mind, her low melodious tones.

It had not taken many days all those weeks ago before they had become quite good friends, and she had a little diffidently asked him to call her by her first name. He had dared not, only calling her so in his daydreams. She had been puzzled at first and then resigned.

However, that had not stopped her calling him “Adam” and saying firmly a few weeks after that first day in her father’s study, “After all, it is ludicrous to deal formally together when you are party to such deep secrets of my family and also a friend of my. . .my brother, sir.”

And since those first couple days at Fleetwood and then later in London at the Barretts’s residence, she had treated him like a brother, a member of her family.

He had never become such good friends with a woman before, not even the youthful Elizabeth Waverley. The increasing closeness between Kate and himself, the way he could so often know what she was thinking, scared him to no end. But although he knew it increasingly annoyed and really upset her, he had steadfastly refused to call her by her Christian name.

That had been only one of the many ways he had determined to somehow keep his distance, to somehow save himself from throwing all caution to the winds and hauling her into his arms and telling her he loved her beyond life itself.

Her father had been a lord. Her place in society was so above his own. Even if the last years in Australia had never been, even if he had met her in England, any liaison with him would ostracize her from society. His family was in trade. She was heiress to a great estate and name.

And he. . .he was only the coward who had told her nothing of the horror and pain of the last years that had contributed finally and without question to his unworthiness.

So much had happened during the last few weeks before they had sailed over three months ago in the Royal Duke. Kate had insisted Adam go with her to hand over John’s papers to her father’s amazed, excited, yet highly perturbed lawyers. They had been relieved that there was such a good chance that Percival Farnley might no longer inherit and bring to ruin the estate. However, they were very upset and anxious about the good name of the family with the new Lord Farnley a convicted murderer and serving a life sentence in the antipodes.

That concern had been somewhat relieved after being assured of Kate and Adam’s belief that the new heir was undoubtedly innocent. Apparently, they had also made some discreet enquiries of their own of the sentencing judge. He had admitted he had taken the unusual step of commuting the death penalty for murder to life transportation in case the impassioned claims of the young man had been true.

After that they had very quickly set things in motion. Trusted envoys had been immediately dispatched to Spain to prove the identity of the said John Martin as the child of the late lord. “For if he is proved indeed to be that infant, John Harold Farnley,” the most senior partner had loftily explained to the young couple, “then he could lay claim to a trial of his peers which could be a very different thing from a district court.”

He had sniffed disdainfully, but Adam and Kate had stared at each other with bright hope in their eyes.

As a result of these visits and the assurances heaped on them about the strong possibility of a satisfactory outcome, Adam had held his peace and refrained from repeating anything his friend John had said about Beth Barrett’s failure to come forward with the alibi that might have caused a jury to change their verdict. There would be time enough for that if any new evidence was needed at a new trial.

Besides, when at last the whole had been confided to both the Barretts, Beth had looked so stricken, turned so pale, and trembled so violently, that he had even felt a tinge of sympathy for her and not really been more than momentarily surprised when she had so vehemently insisted on accompanying her sister to Australia.

Adam had tried to persuade the two sisters that the long, tedious, and dangerous journey was not necessary, that as soon as possible John Martin, or John Farnley as he should be called, would be returned to England. But when the lawyers had told them it could take many months, even longer than a year before anything could be resolved, both women had been adamant. They had to meet John and be assured of his welfare.

“Besides,” Kate had added so painfully that it had for the moment silenced Adam’s protests, “the very last thing my father requested of me was to find him and tell him how sorry he was. The least I can do is go to my brother and personally tell him that. And. . .and how dreadful if something should happen to John before I could tell him.”

Adam had silently agreed with her, knowing only too well the dangers that were faced each day on those vast, dusty plains.

Then the Reverend William Barrett had astounded them all by mentioning that he had heard much of Australia and their need for more ministers. Apparently he had several times thought of exchanging the fogs and cold of England for the sunshine of that great land.

Adam had studied the man of God for a long moment, then looked so swiftly at his wife that he had captured the amazed, almost frightened look on Beth Barrett’s face as she stared at her husband before she had swiftly lowered her eyes. He had frowned and sharply looked again at the Reverend Barrett. The minister was watching his wife with such an expression of tenderness and concern that Adam had felt a tinge of envy that a man could so openly love a woman and call her his wife.

Despite his reservations about Beth, Adam had found his own attitude had softened considerably toward the young woman as a result of that good Christian man’s regard for her. After all, she had obviously been highly indulged by her mother and then her stepfather and had been so very young and sheltered when she had met the handsome young man, John Martin.

During the many hours since, especially on the long three month’s voyage, he had become very close to her husband. He had spent much time discussing spiritual things with William Barrett, realizing very quickly that here he had found a true man of God who cared greatly for his fellowman and sought to minister the Scriptures faithfully. He not only preached to others, but he also did his utmost to put those principles into practice himself.

Adam knew there was so much more that William Barrett could teach him, and perhaps, God willing, one day in the near future John and Timothy would have the opportunity of learning from his superior knowledge of the Word of God gained from his many years of study.

“After all these weeks, Captain Lewis says he expects to anchor off Port Misery well before nightfall.”

Adam blinked as those soft tones intruded on his thoughts. “Indeed, it is to be hoped that we do not have to spend even one more night on board this poor benighted vessel,” he replied after a moment taken to bring his thoughts back from the past, “although I’m not too sure I like the name of our landing place.”

“Port Misery? Oh, Captain Lewis said that was just a nickname given it by the first migrants and not to worry about that,” Kate told him cheerfully. “Apparently it is really Holdfast Bay where the ship anchors, even though it is some seven miles from the settlement of Adelaide, still being surveyed I understand, on the River Torrens.”

Adam gave an involuntary smile. That did not comfort him in the least.

Even as she spoke, the wind quickened and the sails filled and sent the ship hurrying toward its journey’s end as though it agreed with him and would also be glad to finally put behind the dangers and traumas of the long journey.

Kate watched Adam as he leaned on the rail and stared down at the gentle swell, so different from the huge waves of the last few days that had made them all so uncomfortable. She had slept little the night just past. Beth had once again been so seasick that Kate had insisted on taking care of young Harold so both Beth and William could sleep. But the small boy had not disturbed her. It had been her own troubled thoughts that had kept her long awake. And it was this man beside her who so constantly occupied those thoughts.

In many ways, he was still an enigma. It was obvious that a special bond existed between him and his friend John Martin—Farnley, she swiftly corrected herself. She knew there was much about his own time in Australia that Adam had not explained, especially how that bond between landholder and convict had grown.

At first she had thought it had just been because Timothy and John had led him to a personal faith in Jesus Christ, but from other things Adam had said, she strongly suspected there was some other reason that he never mentioned.

All she really knew about Adam Stevens was that after an irreconcilable falling-out with his brother and uncle, he had gone to Australia more than ten years ago and now owned a sheep station some three hundred miles west of Sydney.

“It was a shame we were delayed by that storm and had to spend Christmas Day on board.” As Adam spoke, he turned and smiled gently at her.

Kate’s own smile disappeared and she looked quickly away, but not before she knew he had seen her sad expression. The whole ship’s company had done their best to celebrate the birth of the infant Jesus and Savior, but it had been a halfhearted effort at best. They had still been so upset by the death of the small son of one of the migrant families. The turbulence of the surging seas had at long last proved too much for his frail body, and despite all their efforts, his small body had been committed to the ocean only a few days before Christmas.

Kate had often fervently thanked God that Harold Barrett was such a healthy child and had withstood the journey so well. Not like that other poor little mite. The day they had buried the tiny child at sea had been the saddest time of the whole voyage. His poor mother still crept around the ship in a daze of grief.

Beth and William had guarded their precious son even more, but Harold was now thin and miserable from the poor food that even those traveling first class had endured now that their supplies were so low. William also had become drawn and lost weight this last week. Kate strongly suspected he was giving most of his meager rations to his wife and child, but when challenged, he had simply smiled gently at her and turned away.

“It has not been an easy voyage,” Adam added quickly in a low voice. “Is your sister well this day?”

It was a moment before Kate replied in a husky voice, “She seems much brighter but has never completely recovered from that fever she developed a few weeks ago. I still cannot understand why she kept from us the fact that she was expecting another child until we were so many days into the journey,” she added in a stronger, exasperated voice.

“No doubt so that her husband would not forbid her to travel,” Adam replied dryly.

Kate glanced at him swiftly. “You do not like my sister, do you, Adam?” she asked in an accusing voice. “It puzzles me to no end, for never was there a sweeter person than Beth, nor a better wife and mother. Besides, although she tries not to let it show, I know it upsets her to no end.”

He stiffened, staring out across the waters of the gulf. She saw his strong jaw tighten and knew with a sinking heart that her fears must be right. The only explanation she had been able to think of for his coolness to Beth had been that John Martin must have told him something to her sister’s discredit.

While she herself had been so preoccupied in caring for her stepmother and joining in the conspiracy not to let Beth know just how ill her mother was, there had been little if any time to spend with Beth herself. It was only later that she had suspected the rebellion which had stirred in the young woman who was barely out of the care of her governess had caused her to run wild for a few weeks after her mother’s last collapse.

Who would know what Beth had foolishly done in that time! Then she had been married so young, because, as Kate had once confided to Adam briefly, “It was her mother’s dearest wish to see her daughter married before she died.”

Now she wished she had asked him before about Beth, even as he said a little sharply, “I am sorry if my attitude has concerned you, and I can give you no explanation.”

“Cannot, or will not, I wonder.”

At her censorious tone he glanced at her quickly, but before he could reply there was a loud shout of, “Land Ho!” from the lookout.

Obviously relieved at the interruption, he said swiftly, “It would seem that we are indeed soon to set foot on shore. Your belongings are all packed that you will need in Adelaide while the ship is taking on supplies?”

“Yes, of course.”

Suddenly all her hopes and fears rose up and almost overwhelmed her. She impulsively swung around and reached out to him. His hands automatically went to meet hers, and suddenly she was clinging to them.

“Oh, Adam, I could hardly sleep last night, and all day I have been in such a fidget. Besides being so concerned about Beth, I am worried about John. I so long to meet my. . .my half brother, but now that we are so much closer, I have been wondering even more how he will respond to me, to us. This journey has been so fraught with discomfort and danger, and I dare not try to imagine what it must have been like for him as a convict.”

Staring a little desperately into eyes that had gone very dark again, Kate suddenly longed to have Adam put his arms around her, comfort her, keep her safe forever.

It was a long moment before he spoke, and then it was hesitantly, as though wondering just how much to tell her.

“Perhaps you should know,” he said quietly at last. “It may help you to understand him when you meet. John rarely speaks of that journey. Most of what happened I have heard from others, mainly his friend and fellow convict Timothy Hardy. Also, the surgeon on board the ship, Dr. Richmond, and his wife who befriended John were very impressed with his courage and fortitude.”

“The surgeon? Was John ill?”

That hesitation again, and then, as though he had made up his mind, Adam’s hand tightened on hers until his grip was painful, but she did not wince.

In an expressionless voice, he said, “The convicts nowadays may not have as harsh conditions as even ten years ago, but apparently it was a dreadful journey.”

Kate had heard rumors about the conditions aboard most transportation vessels, but she listened with increasing horror as Adam told her briefly about conditions the convicts endured, especially on the ship that had transported John to Sydney.

Besides the severely cramped quarters, the sickness, the refusal of the soldiers’ commanding officer, Lieutenant Edwards, to remove the convicts’ shackles for several days after leaving Cape Town, there had been the dreadful riot.

John and Timothy’s desperate efforts to prevent the convicts rioting had been futile. Then they had been unjustly accused and punished. While Timothy had been let off some of his flogging due to his injuries and John’s appeal on his behalf, John himself had received well over fifty lashes with the dreaded cat-o’-nine-tails. His body already weakened by illness, his life had only been spared by the dedicated care of the surgeon on the ship, the surgeon’s wife, and their young friend, Elizabeth Waverley.

Adam recited the bare facts in a quiet, expressionless voice, staring motionless out across the blue water. As Kate watched him, his face had become remote, the harsh lines even more pronounced.

She suspected that if she asked for details he would not tell her more, and shuddered, not even wanting to know more of the horror. As it was, when he at last fell silent, she was trembling. Tears burnt her eyes and started trickling down her face.

“Will John ever be able to forgive us for all he has suffered, for our own neglect of him?” she whispered at last. “Even though we did not realize his trial was on, the lowliest servant of my father’s in the past received more consideration than he. And how ever can I explain that my father had those papers and did nothing? Nothing!”

She dashed a hand across her eyes. Adam came out of his silent reverie and turned toward her. His hand reached out, and a thumb smoothed away the moisture on one cheek. Then his hands enfolded hers in their strong, comforting grasp. For one blissful moment, Kate felt Adam draw her closer.

He stared at her, his eyes filled with molten, dark liquid passion. He opened his mouth, and she held her breath. But then an excited, girlish squeal intruded, breaking the tense moment. They glanced around, suddenly aware that others had joined them on deck to watch for the first sight of land.

His hands tightened convulsively on hers. He looked down at them, drew a deep breath, and slowly, almost reluctantly, let her go. When he at last looked back at her, she was disappointed to see that his reserve was again well in place.

“I have told you before that John helped me to give my life into our Lord’s hands,” he murmured. “He has suffered so much, but through it all he found, through Timothy’s faithful witness, a God who shared his suffering, who loves him. He has been exercising the forgiveness that he believes God would have him give to all those who have wronged him.”

He turned away and stared again across the blue waters. When he spoke again, his words were so soft that she strained to hear him above the increasing noise on deck.

“He will not be able to help loving you, my dear Kate,” she thought she heard him say, and her heart leaped within her.

Before she could be sure she had heard correctly, he turned and gave her a slightly twisted smile and moved away to acknowledge the excited comments of a fellow passenger.