Matilda's Freedom (2 page)

Whatever did he have in mind? The way his eyes had been following her all evening made Matilda wonder if he was going to proposition her right in the middle of the Bainbridge’s’ sitting room.

‘It seems to me that we both have something to offer each other.’

Oh, good heavens! Surely he hadn’t noticed the way she had been watching him or the strange bumps and slides of her insides.

‘I am in need of someone of your age, patience and good humour.’ Was he going to suggest that she dance for him, perhaps kick his hat off his head? It would have to be an extremely high kick. He towered over her, making her feel small and strangely feminine—or maybe that was just due to the dress she had borrowed. Whatever the reason for his words, her face grew hot.

‘I require a lady to act as companion and governess to my stepsisters Hannah and Beth. Since their father’s death, my mother …’

Matilda swallowed excitedly, and the sound seemed to echo around the room. She glanced at her aunt’s smiling face and couldn’t shake the distinct feeling she had been set-up.

‘Pray continue,’ Mrs Bainbridge said. Matilda turned her gaze to the nonchalant figure now draped across the overstuffed armchair opposite her. His long legs stretched out in front of him. He was a picture of masculine contentment.

How could he be so relaxed? A curl of excitement was brewing like a summer storm in her chest. The temperature in the room became almost unbearable. She wanted to fling the windows open and snatch any stray breath of air.

He was offering her a job, and a position in his household. She’d be able to support herself and keep her family property—it was simply too good to be true.

Kit cleared his throat. ‘It may be inappropriate, and you might not be prepared to travel unaccompanied, but I am leaving tomorrow evening on the steamer for Morpeth. From there, I will travel onwards to Wollombi. It is imperative I return home immediately to ensure the well-being of my mother and stepsisters. If you would be prepared to accompany me, I could offer you the position when we arrive.’ He paused.

Terrified her mouth was gaping open from excitement, Matilda bit her lip. Was he expecting her to throw a fit of the vapours at the thought of travelling with a man? Certainly not. She had every intention of making the most of the situation—any situation.

‘Of course, if you feel it is inappropriate or I have been too forward …’

Matilda turned to her uncle and smiled. She hardly had a reputation to consider, and women of her background were more concerned with practicalities than station. Ever since her mother’s death, she had been surrounded by male company and had been living on the farm with her father and the property farmhands. But now her father was gone.

The ever-present tears threatened to well up again.

Closing her eyes, she pushed the memory of the blazing inferno to the back of her mind. She would not dwell on it; the pain was still too raw.

Travelling unaccompanied was hardly an issue, for she’d recently made the journey alone from Bathurst to Sydney by coach. She needed advice. ‘Uncle Richard, what do you think?’

‘I can vouch for Kit. This sounds like the perfect solution to me, Matilda—at least for the time being. I can arrange the lease on the farm for you from here, so there is nothing keeping you in Sydney.’

The swirl of excitement continued to build in her stomach. ‘Aunt Emily?’

‘It’s a wonderful opportunity, and you will enjoy Wollombi. It is hardly Sydney but has become a thriving township in recent years, and this will give you the opportunity to meet new people.’

‘I don’t know how to thank you all.’ Matilda leaned across and grasped her aunt’s hand.

‘And I can put you in touch with Richard’s niece, Lily, and her husband, Tom. They live only a few hours’ ride from Wollombi. I believe Bonnie is also in Wollombi now, isn’t she, Richard?’

‘Indeed.’

‘Forgive my interruption,’ Kit broke in, ‘but I believe Bonnie is the name of my mother’s current housekeeper. At the moment, she has the privilege of keeping an eye on my two stepsisters, for my mother has been most unwell since Barclay’s death. Could this be the Bonnie you mentioned?’

‘Oh, I have no doubt she is one and the same. She acted as companion to Lily at Wordsworth and accompanied her to Sydney afterwards. There was also all that business with horse thieves, but you would have missed all of that while you were in Paris. It was the talk of the colony.’ Emily’s twinkling smile seemed to light up the room as she looked around at her guests. ‘But that’s a story for another day. So since we are all well-acquainted, I can see no reason why Matilda shouldn’t accompany Kit to Wollombi. I have no doubt his mother and stepsisters will be thrilled by the notion.’

Matilda caught the conspiratorial wink her uncle aimed at his wife.

‘Until tomorrow, then.’ Kit rose from his chair and stood looking down at Matilda, a pleased smile on his handsome face. ‘I will call for you at seven in the evening. The steamer we’ll be taking leaves at nine o’clock.’ His gaze remained firmly on her face as he spoke, and when she smiled, he nodded. ‘Excellent. Goodnight, Richard, and thank you Emily for a delightful evening.’

Then Kit bowed, taking Matilda’s hand and touching his lips to it. Her skin ached as a rush of warm anticipation circled in her stomach. ‘Goodnight, Kit.’

Not only were Matilda’s immediate problems solved, but she rather thought she might enjoy spending more time with the delightful Mr Matcham.

Foul black smoke billowed from the contraption’s chimneystack. As Matilda covered her ears in a vain attempt to blot out the crashing of the engines, a ferocious gust of wind whipped across the foreshore and threatened to steal her bonnet away. With her coat over one arm, she snatched at the bonnet’s ribbons and only managed to hold on to it by clasping it close to her chest. The ragamuffin holding her bag hopped from foot-to-foot and appeared as overcome by all the commotion as she was.

Matilda turned slowly and gazed across the quay. Warehouses loomed like sentinels on the other side of the busy, dusty road running parallel to the waterfront. Turning her back on them, she gazed in awe—high, impressive buildings overlooked smaller dwellings that were nestled higgledy-piggledy across the rocky cliff face.

The last time Matilda had seen Kit he had been conversing with a gnarled, old man. He’d told her to stay right where she was until he returned. She had no intention of going anywhere but the thought of skipping the steamer and travelling the Great North Road on horseback appealed. Still, they were apparently in a great hurry, and this steam contraption—
Fenella,
the nameplate proclaimed—promised to cut at least three days off the usual trip.

The combination of sails, a chimneystack, and the two, huge paddle wheels clamped on either side of her made the steamboat wallowing before her look ungainly, like an overfed turkey. The square-riggers, with their perfectly furled sails and sparkling brass work, danced like debutantes in the harbour around her. Yet
Fenella
was apparently so fast they would be in Newcastle in six hours and up the river to Morpeth in only two more. Matilda found that hard to believe.

The sea-smell of the harbour and the odour of dead fish had caught in her throat, making her eyes water. She longed for the fresh scent of the bush and of home. The ports were noisy and busy—sailors and passengers were disembarking and embarking, cargo was being loaded or carted away, and there were even policeman stationed here and there. They idly watched the hustle and the bustle around them as the locals went about their business.

Last night, she had been excited about the prospect of her new position, but now it was becoming a reality, she felt less sure. The intimacy of the candlelight and her almost visceral response to Mr Matcham had lulled her into a false sense of security. Now she wondered if she had done the right thing.

Matilda flinched, grasping her belongings tighter as a hand touched the small of her back. Warm breath tickled her ear. She shivered.

‘Good news and bad, I’m afraid.’‘Kit leaned in close and spoke above the din. ‘There aren’t any private cabins, but there is a small forecabin for ladies. Personally, I’d rather be above decks in the air. It’s very warm down there, and there’s a vile smell of oil and smoke from the engine. Which would you prefer?’ he asked.

‘I have no idea. This is a new experience for me. It all seems so very noisy and busy, so I think I’d rather be in the fresh air as long as it’s not too cold.’

Kit nodded and turned away. There was a loose elegance about him, and he looked comfortable amongst the hustle and bustle of the quayside. For a man who was used to mixing with all manner of people—from princes to dancing girls—the excitement of the quay must have appeared commonplace. Today, Matilda felt every inch the country cousin, and she ruefully supposed that she was. This was only her second visit to Sydney, and she wasn’t keen to return.

‘Let’s go aboard. It’s getting late.’

Slipping a coin into the boy’s grubby hand, Kit smiled kindly down at him and took up her bags. The kid doffed his cap and ran off into the seething mass of humanity lining the foreshore. Since speech was virtually impossible, he nodded in the direction of the gangplank and, with Matilda at his side, made his way through the throng to the quayside.

Accessible to the quay by a steeply sloped plank,
Fenella
ducked and bobbed with every wave that passed. Rope handles, which were looped and attached at intervals to uprights on the gangplank, waved in the wind. Her breath caught as she realised she would be expected to walk up the narrow space to go aboard.

She slipped her coat over her shoulders and tucked her reticule firmly under her arm so her hands would be free. The wind buffeted against them, whipping her hair across her face. Grasping the ribbons of her bonnet tightly in her fingers, Matilda stepped on to the gangplank. The walkway bounced and swayed, and then dipped as Kit followed her, but after a few steps she found it no more difficult than crossing the fallen tree that spanned the creek at home. As she reached the top, she jumped down easily onto the deck.

It was crowded, but Kit managed to find them somewhere to sit and then disappeared below to stow their luggage. Matilda gazed around at the seething mass of activity.

With twilight quickly descending, the strange outlines of the huge paddle wheels cast an almost cage-like shadow across the deck and filled her mind with her father’s stories of his tortuous trip to Australia. No, she would stay up here; nothing this side of hell would get her below decks. She shuddered, rubbing her wrists as she imagined the cold pull of manacles against her tender skin.

‘Are you certain you wouldn’t rather be below decks? You might be able to get some sleep.’ Kit appeared beside her, looking so in control, so tall. His black hair provided a contrast to the pale skin of his face. From his time in Europe, she presumed.

‘No, I’m certain, but thank you, Kit. I’m sure it’s very crowded. I’ll be quite happy up here.’ Smiling, she accepted the blanket he had shaken out and placed on her knees.

‘This might help a little when it gets darker.’

‘Again, thank you.’ Matilda glanced over the deck. ‘I’ve never seen a ship like this before.’

‘She’s an iron paddle steamer. Sticking to a timetable is easier when you have the option of steam or sail, so they’re used quite a bit now for travel up and down the coast and on the inland rivers. She was built in Liverpool about ten years ago and has only just started doing this run. Before that she did a number of voyages from Melbourne to Hobart but she wasn’t really suited for that distance. This is much more her mark.’

‘I suppose it is important for a ship to have reliability and speed, but this steamer seems nowhere near as romantic as the schooners I’ve seen or those tea traders flying across the ocean, skimming and swooping like a bird.’

‘But you have to be impressed with the power of her engines. Two cylinders, one hundred and ten horsepower—not as good as some of the machines we saw in Paris but exciting nonetheless.’ Kit’s words brought a sparkle to his eye, and she couldn’t help but share his enthusiasm.

‘Had you not mentioned that you’d brought back some machinery from Paris for your farm?’

‘Yes, I did, and I’m thrilled with it. It’s an ingenious device—an American mowing machine. It has cutting blades that move from left to right in a rapid motion and can cut grass or lucerne, or any other crop.’ With his long fingers splayed out in front of him, he imitated the action of the blades. ‘I can’t wait to get it home. The device will be a huge saving of labour and will help in the preparation of the area in which I intend to plant to my vines. I’m planning to eventually extend the vineyards out to twenty-five acres and will take continual cuttings until I can build them up.’

‘Your mother must be thrilled with your plans for the property.’ A rather long pause followed. Matilda watched the gulls shrieking and circling overhead and wondered if perhaps he had lost interest in their conversation. Then Kit turned to her, frowning.

‘My mother?’

‘Yes.’ Why did he sound so surprised? Surely his mother had an interest in the development of the property.

‘My mother has never been overly interested in that part of our family affairs. The development of the property was the one particular interest my stepfather Barclay and I shared. To the best of my knowledge and from the communications I have received, my mother has taken my stepfather’s death quite heavily. She has been confined to her sick bed ever since. Our housekeeper, Bonnie, has stepped in and has been staying at The Gate to look after Mother and the girls, so the agricultural management of the property has been left in abeyance. At least we have our Aboriginal stockman keeping an eye on the cattle.’

‘I don’t expect it has been easy for any of them.’

‘No, I’m sure it hasn’t, and the girls will no doubt have missed their relationship with their mother. She attends to their education, and the house is very much her domain.’

As they passed through the harbour, Matilda gazed around. She tried to imagine the way her parents must have felt about arriving in a land so different from England after their many months at sea. Her mother had always lamented the lack of rolling green hills. As they passed orange-brown sandstone cliffs with scrubby trees that clung to them above the dusty coves and bays, Matilda could easily understand her parents’ fear of the unknown.