A Ring Through Time (16 page)

‘As does mine.’ She hesitates. ‘I know at firsthand just how wretched is their lot for my own father spent time in prison in Van Diemen’s Land.’

Open-mouthed, I stare at my friend. I knew there was a scandal attached to the Robertson name, but not what it was. Her father in prison! This is not at all what I expected.

‘Shortly after our family arrived in Van Diemen’s Land, our farm failed,’ Elizabeth explains. ‘My father was unable to pay his debts and so spent some time in the debtors’ prison. He tried several other things after that, and eventually turned to journalism.
He published his own news sheet, called the
True Colonist
. Unfortunately, my father is ever one to speak his mind and on one occasion he went too far. He was charged with libel and imprisoned. These experiences gave him, he says, an insight into the hellish lives of the prisoners. As a consequence, life is very different for the convicts here at Longridge, but, as you know, his methods have put him at odds with your father, Alice. And I fear the consequences if your father should interfere more than he has already with the way things are run here.’

I am silent as I reflect on how greatly my father is loathed, both by the convicts and also by men under his charge.

‘I have tried to talk to my father about his cruel treatment of the prisoners,’ I say at last. ‘But he will not listen. Nor, I am sure, will he heed what I have said on your father’s behalf. He seems convinced that he knows what is best for everyone.’

I hesitate, wondering if I should take Elizabeth into my confidence.

‘And you are right about Cormac,’ I confess. ‘We have managed to talk privately on a few occasions.’ I feel the blush creeping over my cheeks as I recall the passionate kiss we shared. ‘But I see him as a musician, not a convict, Elizabeth. When he plays the violin, it is as if his music is singing directly to my soul.’

‘You have fallen under his spell, I see.’ Elizabeth’s expression is grave.

‘My mother has asked my father if Cormac might give me lessons.’ I clasp my hands together. ‘I used to play the violin in Van Diemen’s Land, and I miss making music so much.’

‘And, of course, it is the perfect opportunity to see more of Cormac.’

‘Of course. I have added my pleas to my mother’s. My father says it would be unseemly, but I shall change his mind. I must!’ I clench my hands into fists to emphasise my intention.

‘I am sorry we were unable to bring him to Longridge to play for us tonight. But perhaps it is just as well.’ Elizabeth puts her hand on my arm. ‘Alice, please be careful. Your father will become suspicious if you continue to pester him for music lessons. Please, for his sake if not for your own, do not pursue your relationship with Cormac. It can only lead to trouble. Forget about him. Forget about all the convicts, in fact, for you can do nothing to change their lot. Just enjoy the picnics and the dinner parties and the dancing and try to make the best of your time here.’

‘As you do, you mean?’

Elizabeth pulls a face. ‘It is different for you,’ she says.

I suspect she is thinking of her disease, and I feel great pity for her.

‘You should find yourself a safe young man to marry,’ Elizabeth continues, her tone wistful. ‘Leave this place. Raise children. Have a happy life.’

This time it is my turn to touch Elizabeth’s hand in the hope of bringing comfort. ‘Will you not stay for at least some time after dinner?’ I ask, wanting to ease her melancholy. ‘We don’t have to socialise with the gentlemen, or play cards. Let us sit here and talk instead.’

Elizabeth shakes her head with a rueful smile. ‘You do not know Mama,’ she says. ‘She wants me wed, and my sisters too. She will
not rest until she sees us making cow eyes at a prospective husband.’ She draws a deep and laboured breath. ‘No, I am afraid you will have to manage without me, Alice.’

Is Elizabeth alluding to this evening after dinner, or is she warning me that she will not always be here? I marvel at my friend’s courage, and wonder if I could live under sentence of death, never knowing whether my next breath might be my last. I summon up a smile, knowing there is nothing I can say. Briefly, desperately, I hope that the cure is working, but Elizabeth’s sadness tells me that she considers her condition hopeless.

‘To return to your question, Alice: who would I choose?’ Elizabeth thinks for a moment. ‘I know Jack Cartwright is keen. He most particularly asked if you would be here when Mama invited him.’

My heart sinks. ‘My parents seem to think I should encourage him.’

‘You could do a lot worse. I should think there is a far greater prospect of a happy future with Jack Cartwright than with your convict.’

‘Sshh!’ Alarmed, I look around the table. But everyone is busy eating; no-one is paying any attention to us. I cut into the slice of lamb on my plate, my mouth watering at the rich scent of the roasted meat.

‘Why are Cormac and Padraic O’Brien shut up in this hellhole anyway?’ Elizabeth asks. ‘What have they done?’

‘They are political prisoners.’

‘Is Padraic the man they call Paddy? I have heard the convict labourers in the fields talking about him. He is a true patriot of
Ireland apparently, forever going on about Ireland’s rights while complaining about the injustice of his sentence.’

‘It was unjust,’ I say. ‘They were mistaken for Irish rebels and shipped out here. Cormac admits to feeling sympathy with the Irish cause but he denies any wrongdoing.’

‘Well, he would, wouldn’t he?’ Elizabeth surveys me with some amusement. ‘Don’t you get taken in by that Irish blarney,’ she warns.

I bow my head, feeling miserable.

‘Cheer up,’ she says. ‘A living, breathing officer in your arms is worth far more than a convict in chains condemned to a dreadful existence on Norfolk. I doubt your father will give Cormac parole, or anyone else for that matter. It is not his way. Don’t waste your life waiting for someone you cannot have, Alice.’ She picks up her knife, cuts into the meat on her plate and takes a small, dainty bite.

‘Perhaps we shall leave and someone kinder will take my father’s place. Perhaps Cormac may yet walk free.’

It is the only hope of happiness I have, other than stealing further moments alone with him.

‘I wouldn’t count on it. Really, Alice, you should rather show some interest in an officer or a civilian. Who knows, someone else might well capture your heart even when you least expect it.’

‘Perhaps.’

I don’t believe it for a moment, and am anxious to change the subject. As I cast about for something to say, I notice that Elizabeth has hardly touched her food. Instead, she is pushing it around her plate, surreptitiously covering the smaller bits over with a slice of meat.

‘You should eat more,’ I say.

‘What is the point?’

It is the closest my friend has come to showing her despair. I feel annoyed with myself for indulging my own misery when she has by far the greater burden to bear.

‘The point is that you need to keep your strength up,’ I say briskly. I take a breath, wondering if I dare go on. ‘It will help you fight this terrible disease. You must get well. I need a companion here or I shan’t be able to bear it.’

I look at Elizabeth, willing her to understand. She gives me a rueful smile, then picks up her knife and fork and begins to eat the meal in front of her.

A toast is drunk to Mr and Mrs Robertson, and dessert is served. We are waited on by convicts, and once again I note the difference between their demeanour and that of the convicts down at the Settlement. How can my father be so blind as to believe that he is in the right and that Mr Robertson is so wrong as to warrant dismissal?

True to her word, Elizabeth murmurs her apologies and disappears once we rise from the dining table. I try to follow her, but Mrs Robertson puts her hand on my arm to stop me.

‘Elizabeth needs to rest in the evenings,’ she says, drawing me out of the room. ‘Besides, the gentlemen have arrived. They await us in the parlour. Some of us enjoy a game of whist. Do you play cards, Alice? Would you like to join us?’

She looks relieved when I say no. I suspect she and my mother have been matchmaking together. I follow my hostess into the parlour, where several tables have been set up and cards laid out. At
our appearance, the gentlemen rise. Some are in uniform; others, the civilians, wear suits. All wear an eager expression as we walk in. I notice that my mother steers my father to another card table once she sees where the Robertsons are to sit.

I join Susannah and the Robertson girls at the far end of the room. I am about to sit in one of the comfortable chairs when I notice Jack Cartwright bearing down on me with a determined expression on his face.

‘May I have a private word,’ he says. ‘I have something in particular that I wish to discuss with you.’

At once I fear the worst, but I can hardly refuse. We withdraw only a few steps; I am determined to make sure we stay in full sight of everyone. I do not want anyone to misconstrue our conversation. Susannah is about to follow us but Jack puts up a hand and shakes his head. Her face clouds over in disappointment. I feel sorry on her behalf for she has taken great trouble with her appearance tonight. I am pleased when a young officer hastens to her side and, I think, compliments her, for she shakes her head and laughs, and seems to blush.

‘I am a great admirer of yours, Miss Alice,’ Jack says, reclaiming my attention. ‘Perhaps you have misunderstood my high regard for you?’

Speechless, I stare at him. My mother’s words come into my mind:
He does not strike me as a man who gives up easily
.

‘I would greatly appreciate the opportunity to spend more time with you, in the hope that you may come to value my company as I value yours,’ he continues. ‘May I speak to your father? May I ask his permission to call on you?’

‘No!’ The word comes without thought, although I regret my lack of tact when I see how I have wounded him. His expression reminds me of a whipped cur. ‘I mean …’ I stop and draw a breath to give myself time to think.

Should I encourage Jack’s attention? Should I use him as a cover for where my real affection lies? Perhaps it would allay suspicion if anyone else has noticed me looking at Cormac. It is unfair on Jack, but if I cannot have Cormac, perhaps he would be my next choice. The idea of making a life with anyone but Cormac revolts me, but Elizabeth has given me sensible advice and I know I should pay heed to it.

‘I mean,’ I continue, ‘this is all very sudden. We hardly know each other.’

‘That is why I wish to spend more time with you. There is so much I would like to know about you.’ Jack hesitates. ‘Your love of music, for example. I saw how much playing the violin meant to you when you braved your father’s wrath to join the convict band. And I think he was wrong to drag you away. I would have liked to hear you play for a lot longer.’

‘Thank you.’

I appreciate Jack’s compliment. More, I appreciate the fact that he has the courage to mention the incident when everyone else apparently considers it best forgotten. But more than anything, I give him credit for supporting me over my father. It shows an independence of mind that differentiates him from the other officers, and I value this in him.

‘I do indeed love to play the violin,’ I say. ‘And I hope there may
be other opportunities for me to play — with my father’s permission, of course.’

‘Then I hope I may be among your audience when you do.’

I doubt it, not if I have my own way. But I will not share my plans with Jack.

‘If I play in public, I am sure you will be present,’ I say instead.

‘And if I were to call — would you play for me alone?’

I look at Jack’s anxious expression and wish with all my heart that it were Cormac asking me the question, for I would have no hesitation in answering. As it is, I am mindful of Elizabeth’s advice. Besides, I do not want to appear uncivil.

‘I am badly out of practice, but yes, I shall play for you if you wish.’

‘Are you saying that there is hope for me to pursue my suit?’ Jack’s face radiates happiness.

Hating my duplicity, I nod. I console myself with the thought that, even if there is no future for Cormac and me, at least I can give someone else the gift of hope. And I set myself to show an interest as Jack draws up a couple of chairs and begins to question me about our time in Van Diemen’s Land, and to tell me about his own family and his early life. It is a welcome change from the self-absorption and fawning flattery of the other officers, and the evening passes pleasantly in his company.

My parents interrogate me on our way home. I am glad to be able to answer truthfully that yes, Lieutenant Cartwright has expressed an interest in me, and agree that yes, we spent quite some time conversing.

‘I hope it will come to something,’ Mother says. ‘Because you will cause talk otherwise, Alice.’

‘I have said only that I would like more time to come to know him,’ I say. ‘You would not expect me to make a hasty decision to spend my life with a stranger, Mother!’

‘I wish he wanted to court me.’ Susannah is cuddling a sleeping William in her arms as she speaks. ‘He’s so handsome. You are lucky, Alice. I think you should say yes.’

I know how much it costs her to say this, and I feel a rush of affection for my sister. I give her arm a quick pat to let her know that I understand. ‘We shall see. I need more time.’

It is true that Jack Cartwright has an agreeable appearance. What I have also discovered is that he is modest and unassuming, especially when it comes to talking about himself. And yet he has a keen sense of fun, for he kept me entertained with stories of hunting goats, rabbits and wild pigs on Phillip Island; and an adventurous fishing expedition out beyond the reef, where one of the officers, instead of hooking the kingfish he was after, snared and tried to land a large shark, almost upsetting their boat in the process. He made me laugh, and also made me forget for a little while that I am trapped here and that my real love is hopeless.

I feel guilty again at the thought of deceiving Jack, yet console myself with the thought that he might yet win my hand if my parents insist on the match. Elizabeth is right. If my fate is inevitable, I could do a lot worse than Jack Cartwright. But I know also that any ring Jack might give me will be a poor substitute for the ring I have already received.