Beyond Innocence (11 page)

“You look beautiful Electra. Amazing what one of Shi Liang’s hot baths can do. Although the prison garb had its novelties,” he said taking her hand and turning her around.

“Too much of a novelty for Mrs. Cameron, I suspect,” she answered, smiling at the compliment.

“Yes, well that story will be around Sydney Town in no time. I think you’re going to be quite famous.”

She groaned. “Infamous would be a better description. Your own reputation will probably drop a few notches thanks to me.” Her eyes flicked to their hands and, seeing this, he let go. “Can you tell me about your proposal?” she asked.

“You don’t need to hear about my troubles, let’s just enjoy dinner.”

“I mean it, William. If I am to be part of your life at Riverside then I want to be useful and I want to understand how things work.”

“Hmm, are you sure?”

She nodded.

“Very well, but this has to work both ways.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” she said frowning.

“I have married you and made you part of my household without question of who you are or how you came to be here. You owe me something, Electra.”

She lowered her eyes, nodding slowly. “You’re right, of course. Although my sentencing is a matter of public record.”

“Yes, I could consult the governor’s records but I don’t believe that’s the truth. The truth is what I am asking for.” He had no doubt that her status as a transported convict was not a simple matter. She needed to trust him, and making comments like he had the day before would not be helpful.

She hesitated. “I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about it. Give me time, William. Perhaps you can tell me about your proposal over dinner for now.”

He agreed, knowing he would have to take it slowly, but determined to satisfy his curiosity before too long.

Shi Liang proudly served dishes of hot steaming vegetables from his garden, marinated kangaroo meat, and fragrant rice. He seemed to have forgiven Electra for breaching his domain and bobbed his head happily as she complimented each dish. William poured generous amounts of his homemade wine and saw the tension and uncertainty of the last few days slip from her shoulders.

“Shi Liang seems quite happy with me this evening. Was it something you said to him?” she asked.

William had a mouthful that he finished before answering. “Not exactly. He heard what you said to Annabel Cameron, who won’t even drink from a cup if he has touched it. I swear he laughed hysterically for half an hour in the kitchen and told me later you could do anything you want in the house from now on.”

She looked pleased and prompted him again about his proposal to the governor. He held up his glass, admiring the golden clarity of the liquid.

“How do you find the wine?”

“William, it’s very nice but I don’t know how that — ”

“Bear with me, Electra. My proposal is about the wine,” he said, settling back in his chair.

“You see, grape vines were brought to the colony on the first fleet but have never been more than a small crop, grown mostly for personal consumption. My proposal is to produce a fine grade wine, not only for the colony, but in commercial quantities to export back to England.”

“Goodness. That’s ambitious,” she said.

“Yes, but not unrealistic. I believe the more products we can produce for export, the more economically viable this country becomes. Our wool will become the finest in the world, and I think our wine production can be just as good.”

“And what did you need from the governor?”

He smiled, surprised and delighted that a woman would show an interest in such matters. “My proposal requested his assistance with access to more suitable land and market contacts in England.”

“I admit to knowing nothing about how things work here, but you say you presented your case well. How could they make a judgment on the feasibility of your proposal based on who you marry?”

“Huh! The English class system is alive and well in our little colony. Also the governor’s advisors see me as a bit of a renegade and don’t always agree with my methods. There is a lot of jealousy and resentment in a small settlement like this. If they can find a reason to refuse me, they will do so.”

“So they would jeopardize the economy of the country out of jealousy?”

“Oh no, they’re smarter than that. My ideas will be given to someone else to develop.”

“But that’s outrageous! Well, there’s nothing else for it. We’ll just have to change their minds,” she said, slapping the table with her napkin.

William laughed at her indignation and felt more than a little comforted by her declaration of solidarity. It seemed there was an astute mind behind her distractingly beautiful face. Even so, he knew there was nothing she could do to change the situation. He refilled her glass and they toasted a prosperous future for Radcliffe wines. At his suggestion, they moved from the dining table over to the fire. Electra shivered and drew a small stool in front of the hearth.

“Are you ready to tell me your story?” asked William, settling into a deep armchair.

• • •

Electra did not respond at first, staring into the fire; her thoughts thousands of miles away, as slowly she went back. Back to the days of safety and privilege as the only child of the Viscount Gascombe. Back to the night when her world began to fall apart.

She glanced over at William and told her story.

It was a night to be indoors. A cold drizzle had discouraged even a brisk walk before supper. Her father had settled at his mahogany desk not far from the fire. The cold had become his enemy lately, seeping into his bones and contorting his face with pain. The crackling heat eased his discomfort.

As usual, Electra had dragged a chair close to her father and immersed herself in her novel.

She heard a loud thud on his desk and looked up as he opened a large red ledger. “Is that the ledger from the business, father? Doesn’t Mr. Abernathy look after that for you?”

“He does, my dear, but he had some concerns of a sensitive nature, and asked that I peruse the figures tonight.”

“Oh,” she said absently, “I won’t interrupt you then.” She turned back to her book.

There were faint mutters and mumblings until her father exclaimed, “Good lord, this can’t be right.”

She lifted her head, but not her eyes, from the book. “Hmm? What can’t be right, father?”

“These figures. They don’t make sense.”

She put down her novel and heaved herself from the depths of the soft armchair. “You’re tired, father. Let me go through them.”

Without hesitation, he moved to give her room. He had finally conceded to her superior skills in mathematics some twelve months ago, although not without considerable resistance. She watched him move painfully over to a small table and lift the brandy decanter, pouring himself a generous dollop. He held it in front of his face, watching the distorted flickering of the flames through the glass before allowing himself a warming gulp of the dark liquid. Then he lowered himself into the chair she had vacated and closed his eyes.

Electra didn’t speak again for over an hour. After checking and double checking the figures, she sighed and looked up. “I’m sorry, Father but I think you’re right. The discrepancies go back over quite a period of time. But the amounts seem to have become larger and less carefully hidden in recent weeks.” She hesitated before laying blame, not wanting her own experiences to influence her. But she had heard her father arguing some months ago with her uncle. Berating him for
borrowing
money from the company for his gambling debts. Electra thought for a moment and then blurted her suspicions. “Father, I am certain this is Uncle Carlton’s hand.”

Her heart ached as she watched her father’s face crumple. It was clear he had already suspected his brother’s deceit but hoped he was wrong.

She walked over to him and put an arm around his shoulders. “What will you do?”

“I will confront him. Then after I have heard his reasons, I will decide whether to take legal action.”

When her uncle returned to the home later that night, there ensued a violent argument during which her father collapsed. He never regained consciousness and died before morning of a fatal heart seizure.

• • •

As the tears trickled down her cheeks, she searched fruitlessly in the pockets of her gown for a handkerchief. William bent toward her and wiped them gently with his own.

“If you want to stop, Electra, I won’t push you further.” He wanted to do more than wipe her tears. An urge to protect, almost unrecognizable to him, demanded he take her in his arms and smooth away the pain. But he knew there was more and so did not move.

“No, it’s important you hear it all.”

Distraught with grief and anger, she told her uncle she was charging him with fraud and embezzlement. This was her undoing as, forewarned, her uncle tampered with the evidence and paid witnesses who accused her of the crime instead.

“The rest you know. I was sentenced to seven years transportation to New South Wales. I was four months in Newgate Prison before boarding the
Liberty
. We didn’t sail for a month and even then went no further than Portsmouth Harbor for a further month before sailing for Tenerife.”

William wasn’t a man who could settle for only pieces of a story. Perhaps it had something to do with the need for a full briefing when determining strategy on the battlefield.

“Can you tell me about Newgate? And what about your time on the
Liberty
? I want to understand it all, Electra. So I can understand more about you.” She flinched at his mention of Newgate and he bit his tongue at such insensitivity. But she lifted her head and looked directly into his eyes as she gave him his answer. He should have known, whatever she was, she was no coward.

“Very well, William. Let me tell you about Newgate and my journey on the
Liberty
. On one condition.” He nodded his agreement. “We never speak of this again.”

William had seen all manner of horror on the battlefield and engaged with the lowest forms of humanity at one time or another. But, by God, when he heard the stories she told, he felt the blood rise up his neck and into his face and wanted to howl his rage at what she had borne.

“I, I don’t know what to say, Electra.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “Even with what you’ve told me, I can’t begin to imagine the horrors you have endured,” he said, shaking his head. “Especially for one coming from the background you describe … ” he stopped, remembering the first time he’d seen her. “Dear God, I should have castrated that wretch on the ship. Will you ever forgive me for my shameful assumptions?”

She shrugged, lost in her memories and oblivious to his agitated state. It was obvious she had said all she intended and did not want to dwell on the painful subject. William, on the other hand, wanted to line every one of the bastards up and shoot them. No, something slower and more painful, especially for the uncle. He had to suppress the urge to push for more details and to demand they seek retribution. She had suffered enough and he needed to let her find some peace. It didn’t matter how new this information was for him, she had already spent months dealing with the trauma. A myriad of thoughts whirling through his head, he glanced over at his wife.

The flickering flames sparked the gold in her eyes and illuminated the clear porcelain of her skin. Relieved from the telling, she seemed relaxed. Her soft lips parted slightly showing the straight line of her perfect teeth. William’s anger dissipated as his eyes traced the contour of her heart-shaped face, admiring her sculpted cheekbones and long slender neck. She was breathing softly and he was aware of the rise and fall of her breasts and her small pink tongue as she licked her lips, dry from the heat of the fire. An ache spread from his belly down to his groin and he instinctively moved to her side. Kneeling in front of the small stool, he cupped her face in his hands and reinforced by the wine, he brought his lips to hers.

• • •

Although taken off guard, Electra leaned toward him, surprisingly eager for his kiss. The weight of her ordeal had lightened after sharing her story with William. Despite his earlier insensitivity, he had been attentive and compassionate. As he trailed his fingers down her arms, she pushed her body closer. The callused skin of his hands felt strangely sensual against her skin, warmed from the fire. His mouth moved from her lips, tasting the left side of her throat and nuzzling the hollow at the base of her neck. She moaned softly and threaded her fingers into the silken strands of his hair, gently urging his head downward to her breasts. As he slid the sleeves of her gown down to free her breasts, she gasped, as if struck.

She tried to free herself, pushing and clawing at his arms. But William’s confusion with her actions entangled them further as he reached for her flailing arms. In a state of blinding panic, Electra freed one arm, reached behind her and grasped an iron poker, bringing it crashing down onto his back.

“Damn it to hell!” yelped William as he threw her away from him.

They were on the floor, both stunned at her actions. Shaking with terror, she shuffled backwards as her uncle’s face blurred and became William’s again. Through a haze of shock, she watched William reach up and pull himself onto the chair, wincing from the pain of her blow.

She scrambled to her feet and ran from the room. In a blur of tears, she clattered up the stairs, burst into her room and fell onto the bed. Shocked at her own violence, she could only imagine William’s disgust.

As if from a distance, she heard his firm footsteps climb the stairs and stop outside her room. Without conscious thought, she moved to the edge of the bed and waited. There was a light knock and the door opened. But deeply immersed in her shame, she remained still with her eyes lowered.

“I apologize if I acted inappropriately. You were obviously horribly repulsed by my approaches to be moved to such violence. I will make no further move to treat you as my wife in private. I will be courteous and respectful in public and you will be provided with everything you need.”

A shiver stole over her at the chill in his words. She turned her head toward him and opened her mouth to respond. He held his hand up to stop her and left the room.