Battling against the drought that was now in its third year, Keziah was determined to keep her precious medicinal herb garden alive with every skerrick of water she could salvage. She had managed to cultivate every major herb necessary to treat a wide range of illnesses and injuries, guarding her plants as tenderly as a baby.
It was a windy July day, mid-winter by the calendar, but as parched as any summer she had known since her arrival. The drought had broken in some pockets of the colony, but rain had not fallen in Ironbark. Hearing a heavy knock Keziah raced to the door, hoping against hope to find Jake’s comforting, shaggy-haired figure in the doorway.
Instead she came face to face with Caleb Morgan. He was dressed in an immaculate frockcoat and contrasting trousers that were reminiscent of the lithographs of Prince Albert. His high-crowned hat added to his height. He was the embodiment of a man of Quality, yet Keziah sensed a radical change in him.
He came bearing gifts. In one hand, an elegant arrangement of flowers, in the other a child’s miniature Punch and Judy puppet theatre. He passed her in the doorway, placed his hat and gifts on the table then stripped off his kidskin gloves. With a faint smile of condescension he surveyed the room and the rustic furniture that Daniel had made her.
Keziah’s first impulse was to order him out the door but something stopped her. Fashionable tailoring could not disguise his emaciated body. His hair, bleached in streaks by the desert sun, had grown longer in imitation of the careless Currency mode. His face was haggard. Crow’s-feet were etched into the outer corners of his eyes and a tracery of lines ran from nose to mouth.
The discovery of the mythical Inland Sea would have secured his place in Australian history. Instead all his men had died from thirst, except for the one speared to death. Not even a packhorse had survived. Yet in that strangely contrary colonial response to failure, Caleb had become a hero.
Had the experience of facing death changed him? She was reminded of Jake’s firm belief about his country. ‘For better or worse, Australia changes everyone.’
Caleb made a self-deprecating gesture. ‘Yes, Keziah. I went off on my grand adventure to fulfil your prophecy and make my name famous. I have succeeded in becoming something of a public figure, lionised in society. But not, alas, due to any merit of mine.’ He gave a curt laugh to make light of his confession but the laugh brought on a fit of coughing.
‘My bones would be bleaching in the desert right now if it were not for the courage and loyalty of Jacky Jacko, a black tracker.’
‘I always knew you’d survive,’ she said coolly, trying to sustain the hated image of the Morgan clan.
‘The fact that the rest of my party did not survive rests on my conscience. My ignorance and supreme arrogance led them to their deaths.’
Despite being startled by his honesty, Keziah was determined not to give in to pity.
Caleb appeared to be too large for her cottage. No taller than Jake or Daniel, he had the innate authority of one born to the ruling class. He crossed to the bookcase that Daniel had built from pine butter boxes and opened the natural history book of flora and fauna he had given her.
He smiled. ‘I see you have not forgotten our reading lessons?’
‘The past is dead to me,’ she said.
‘Keziah,’ he said. ‘I cannot undo the past but I come to ask your forgiveness.’
She was on guard. What, no threats? No talk of his legal and moral rights to Gabriel? Her Puri Dai had warned her. Never trust gaujo charm.
‘How did you find me?’
Keziah knew he had not been fooled by her tombstone in Bolthole cemetery; his lawyer’s letter to Joseph Bloom had made that clear. Caleb explained that Julian Jonstone had invited him to be his house guest at Gideon Park.
‘I used the opportunity to continue my search for you. I admired his family portraits and learned of his enthusiastic patronage of a convict artist, Daniel Browne. It struck me there was something oddly reminiscent about the sound of the ‘dark beauty’ Browne had married. A schoolteacher who hated laudanum and gave Charlotte Jonstone herbs to aid childbirth? Just like my Romani girl who had tried to help my stepmother. I made discreet enquiries about the woman known as Saranna Browne, and learned her adopted son was of an age that could fit with the date of his conception at Morgan Park.’
Keziah knew subterfuge was useless. ‘I’ll find some way to pay back your father’s money but I admit nothing else.’
Before Caleb could answer, the sound of children’s laughter drew him to the window. Gabriel and Murphy were chasing each other around a bush until they collided and collapsed laughing in a heap in Nerida’s lap. Keziah could not fail to notice how Caleb’s expression softened as he watched Gabriel’s every move. She was conscious that this was the first time Caleb had ever seen her son. His son.
‘So this is Gabriel Stanley,’ he said softly. ‘My son and heir. The child that Trooper Kenwood’s report assured me never existed. What a fine little chap. You’ve done well, Keziah. No mistaking the Morgan features.’
Seeing Caleb so openly moved at the sight of the boy caused Keziah to feel a flash of empathy.
Caleb suddenly faltered and leaned on the back of the carver’s chair for support.
‘It’s nothing. The heat,’ he lied. Making an effort to regain his composure, he mopped his brow with a silk handkerchief. Keziah flinched at the sight of the hated Morgan family crest, the symbol of their power, embroidered on the corner.
She placed a jug of water on the table beside her crystal glasses. ‘You are unwell. Sit down. I will make you some herbal tea.’
Caleb nodded in gratitude. He sank down, exhausted, and curled one leg over the arm of the chair in that familiar boyish habit she remembered from the Morgan library. Keziah took down a sealed jar containing the prized wood betony she had grown in her herb garden for the use of convalescing patients. She brewed an infusion of the dark pink flowers and green leaves and placed it before him.
Caleb looked at it curiously. ‘I say, is this tea?’
‘Trust me. Drink it down. Our herbs have magical healing properties known to my people before the Roman Empire, when we were in Egypt. It will heal you in body and mind.’
She reminded herself she must never be seen to weaken. Caleb had once used his charm to break down her defences. His attempt to milk her sympathy this time was no less dangerous.
‘I am sorry for your suffering,’ she said firmly. ‘But it changes nothing. I would die before I allowed you to take Gabriel away from me and return him to your so-called Morgan heritage. I am more than capable of supporting my child. Gabriel and I want no part of your fame and fortune. Now or ever.’
She placed Joseph Bloom’s legal document on the table. ‘And if you want to fight it out in court this proves Gabriel was a foundling I adopted.’
Caleb appeared to be overcome with frustration. ‘That’s a ruse! Does it mean nothing to you that I travelled more than eighteen thousand miles to search for you? When I offered you my protection in England – I meant it. I made our lawyer release my inheritance from my mother. I planned to take you to North America. I returned home triumphant to find you had left without a trace.’
He waved his hands in exasperation. ‘Can’t you see? Everything I have done in this godforsaken country has been to win your respect. Prove to you I’m no idle remittance man. I always knew I’d find you again! There’s nothing to stop me now. Your Gypsy de facto is dead and forgotten.’
Gem forgotten! Keziah flinched. Private grief was not to be shared with this gaujo.
Caleb continued. ‘I also know that your convict husband deserted you to live in Sydney Town and study art. So you’re free now. You loved me once – you still do and you know it! Why play games with me and reject my love and my protection?’
‘Play games with you!’ Keziah’s rage exploded. ‘How dare you say that after the diabolical trap you and your father set me!’
Caleb looked bewildered. ‘What trap? What on earth are you talking about? Why did you break your promise and run away from me?’
‘What did you expect?’ she screamed. ‘Did you think you could bribe a Romani woman with silver to breed a child with you? That I’d sign over Gabriel to your father to be Sophie’s little plaything in between her draughts of laudanum?’
Keziah tried to read his face. From the look of him any fool would think this comes as a revelation. ‘Don’t pretend you didn’t know!’
‘This is monstrous. I loved you. You cannot think I’d be party to such infamy.’ He threw up his hands in despair. ‘My God, that’s why you ran off and hid Gabriel from me.’
‘What better reason is there?’
For minutes they continued to stare at each other. A silence only broken by the ticking of the clock, the children’s distant laughter, the high-pitched squawking of cockatoos.
The realisation that she might have misjudged Caleb confused Keziah. If she was no longer consumed by her hatred of Caleb would it leave a strange, gaping hole in her life? No! I will never forgive John Morgan’s evil plan as long as I live!
Finally Caleb capitulated. He sprang to his feet and faced her resolutely. ‘You’ve done nothing wrong. I believe you. Gypsy or not, you are no liar.’
Keziah stiffened at this familiar forked gaujo compliment that praised her while at the same time it insulted her people.
To her great surprise Caleb knelt on bended knee like a romantic actor in a play.
‘Keziah Stanley, will you do me the great honour to be the wife of my heart? To live with me and be my love and raise our son together?’
‘Stop mocking me!’
Caleb rose and touched her face, a gesture of contrition rather than seduction.
‘My offer stands. I will give you and Gabriel everything you want. A fine house of your own, a respected place in society. If you’ll only allow me to love you!’
He brought her hand to his lips. She caught a note in his voice she had never heard before.
‘I promise you my father will never lay his hands on our son! I intend to stay here and carve out a great future. This country offers more adventure than a man can pack into a single lifetime. Here I’m free of Father’s expectations.’
His eyes gleamed with excitement. ‘Why should I return home to gamble on cards or horses, when there’s a whole continent to gamble with my life! Thousands of acres going begging in all these colonies. Vast tracts of land up north beyond Moreton Bay and in Australia Felix and right across to the west coast, just waiting for a man of vision to claim. And tame it!’
‘You a farmer?’ she asked. The idea was ludicrous, but he did not detect her sarcasm.
‘Trust me, Keziah. I know how to make you happy. Our son will have the best English education. We’ll live in two worlds. With my name you’ll be a fine lady. No one will dare look down on my wife.’ He added carelessly, ‘No need to know you’re half Gypsy.’
Keziah bristled at this backhanded comment but Caleb did not notice.
‘What better life can any man offer you?’
His smile looked confident, but Keziah thought that perhaps it also came from his heart.
Caleb’s eyes narrowed. ‘Unless – is there someone else you love?’
When she could not answer, he nodded. ‘So there is. Will he marry you?’
‘No. It’s not like that.’
She saw the jealousy in his eyes, but he controlled it and pressed on.
‘Be honest. Do you have the right to deny our son the life I can give you? We owe it to Gabriel to put things right for him.’
‘Stop it, Caleb. I can’t think straight.’
‘Yes, m’dear. Nothing is quite what it seemed to be one hour ago.’
The truth of these words stung her as her thoughts raced through the recent revelations. If indeed Caleb had played no role in John Morgan’s plan, did she still have the right to deny Gabriel the chance to know his own father? She had been witness to how a similar denial had almost destroyed Jake Andersen. Was she no better than Jenny?
Gem was lost to her forever. Daniel had chosen art as his mistress. Jake’s heart was in thrall to Jenny. Keziah tried to salvage remnants of her independence and pride. She assured herself she had no need of any man in her life, but what of little Gabriel’s needs? Not yet four years old and he had already attached himself to two father figures, Jake and Daniel, and lost them both.
Caleb was watching her like a gambler weighing the odds.
‘Tomorrow I would like to escort you and Gabriel to the German Brass Band concert in Goulburn. It would give Gabriel the opportunity to meet me.’
She hesitated, confused and exhausted. ‘You may meet Gabriel but for now only as a friend. His life has already been full of confused loyalties.’
Caleb bent to kiss her cheek. ‘Till tomorrow.’
Keziah closed the door behind him, emotionally drained. Through the window she saw Nerida instructing the boys how to be warriors, turning them sideways to diminish their small bodies’ target size behind their bark shields as they aimed reed ‘spears’ at each other.
At the hour of Gabriel’s birth she had vowed By Her Father’s Hand to give him the best possible life, but to do this must she forever abandon her Romani heritage?
Her head ached as Caleb’s words echoed in her mind. ‘We owe it to Gabriel to put things right for him.’
Mi-duvel! Am I meant to take the fork in the road that leads to Caleb Morgan?