Boxed Set: Innocent Immigrant (13 page)

I shook my head. “I’m not playing a joke. The buggy’s at the top of the dunes. Let’s go.”

Griff beat me to the top of the track and was in the buggy, seat with a firm hold on the reins before I’d even hoisted myself aboard. He made a sharp turn to manoeuvre the horse out onto the road and set off at a brisk trot. His jaw was tense, and he remained silent as we navigated through the busy main road, past the warehouse and shops to finally make the turn to the road that wound its way to the upper valley township.

Once we were moving at a safe but quick pace, he turned to me. “Now, tell me what happened.”

I explained the little I knew, and he said we could go over the finer details—like why I had let Katie off the property when his express order had been that she stayed within my sight until he returned—once we had Katie safely back home. The fact that the two women had asked so nicely, and so often, wouldn’t wash with Griff so I simply said I’d made a judgment error. The truth was none of us expected trouble from the Mission.

It took a good twenty minutes to reach the gates of Pastor Fraser Mackay’s Mission of Perpetual Divinity, and when we got there, two young lads stood at the locked gates as if guarding them.

“Open the gate and let us through,” Griff demanded in a voice that would certainly have me dropping everything to obey him.

The taller one, a boy of about twelve, stepped forward. “We’re under orders to keep non-Mission members out. There is a private ceremony taking place.”

“The only private ceremony will be your funerals if you don’t open that gate—”

“I’m sorry Mr. Tucker, but I have orders not to let anyone pass.”

“If I go back down that road,” Griff said, gesturing to the dirt track, “I’ll be returning with the Constable, and you’ll be spending at least one miserable night in the cells. Neither of you look fourteen. Would you like me to explain what happens to boys your age in the cells?”

Their eyes remained wide, watching Griff. It was easy to see they were struggling to decide which fate they should choose; the fury of the Pastor from having his orders disobeyed, or the constabulary.

“We can’t allow you in,” the smaller of them said in an unreliable voice.

“So, after a night in the cells,” Griff went on, ignoring the lad, “you’ll be taken to the yard at the back of the police station. You’ve probably not seen it. The yard’s about forty-foot square and against one wall is a special frame.”

The boys were spellbound.

“You’re tied face forward to the frame, with arms and legs spread wide, so that your body makes the shape of an X. Constable McGill is very strong; have you seen the muscles on his arms?”

The boys shook their heads.

“They’re massive, and they got that way from wielding a signal whip...across the backs and buttocks of boys under the age of fourteen. He might not be allowed to send you to jail, but Constable McGill will make sure you’ll never forget the day you blocked my access to the land my parents gave to the Mission and church. Land that was intended to benefit
all
who live in, or visit Kotuku and the surrounding valleys.

Griff then started to turn the horse toward the road, holding up one finger to me as if I was to take note of what was about to happen. Sure enough, the rattle of chain links told us the boys were opening the gates for us.

“Thank you, lads, well done,” Griff called as we drove through.

“A whipping frame in the yard behind the jail? That was a bit of a gamble,” I said.

“They’ll never know. I think I’ve put the fear of pain and God into them so that they’ll be sure and behave themselves for the rest of their lives; or at least until they reach fourteen.”

I was almost too afraid to ask my next question, but I had to know Griff’s thoughts. “Where do you suppose they have Katie?”

“I don’t like to think about that. The threat Herbert Watson made about purifying Katie after her loss of virtue makes me ill. I should never have lied about taking her virtue in the first place.”

At the end of the drive, we came to a group of buildings. The first one served as an administration and greeting area for the Mission, and over to the left was the chapel and the adjoining
consummation room
.

I tied the horse to the hitching rail and followed Griff to the Pastor’s special room.

“If they’ve harmed her, so help me God, I’ll kill them all.”

Book 2, Part 7

GRIFF

I paused at the door to the Chapel’s annex to check on Ari. He looked pale and tense, and when I clapped a hand on his shoulder it was not surprising to discover how clammy he felt. “Breathe, Ari. It’s going to be okay.”

“What if...?”

He could no more finish that sentence than I could. “Katie will be fine, and so will you. Now, we need to go in and get her.”

“You know what room this is, don’t you?”

I nodded. “Of course, it’s the consummation room. She’ll be okay, they won’t have touched her.” I wanted to believe that myself. I also wanted to break the door down but even though I was certain they’d kidnapped Katie, I didn’t want to inflame the situation. If I could get her out of there calmly, it would be less traumatic for her.

I gave the door a forceful knock. “Open up, Mackay. Hand over Katie, and I’ll be on my way.” The blood pounding in my ears made it difficult to discern the sound of any movement beyond the door, and it seemed forever before a response came.

“She’s not yours, Tucker. Leave before I have you arrested for trespassing.”

I laughed. It was false and harsh, but it released some of the pressure I’d been trying to contain. “You seem to forget that your Mission is on Tucker land.”

I could hear movement within the room, and then a new voice called out. “She doesn’t want to see you. Leave immediately.”

Damn them all. The person who spoke was Herbert Watson, the cousin of the late Sid Watson, the man Katie had travelled to New Zealand to marry. If Herbert so much as touched her, I’d kill him, too.

“Last chance, Mackay, open the door, or I’ll knock it down.”

I heard the sliding of the latch, and the door was wrenched open. It was Pastor Mackay himself who stood in the entrance and beyond him was up to a dozen or so other men. Although I did my best to look past him, I couldn’t get a view of Katie and was uncertain whether she was in the room.

“You can come in,” he said to me, “but your native friend’s not welcome. He’ll have to stay outside.”

Mackay certainly knew how to fire up my anger, and while I may have managed an exterior appearance of calm, my fury boiled within giving me enough strength to take on all of his minders.

“
We
are here for Katie,” I declared, shoving past the Pastor and bringing Ari with me. There weren’t many present who would be stupid enough to take on both of us. But it wasn’t violence I was after—in fact, I wanted to avoid that at all costs. All I wanted was to get Katie away from there and never set foot on the Mission grounds again.

What I saw inside the room nearly stopped my heart. There was a reason I couldn’t see her from the doorway. In the middle of the room was a plain cot bed with a mattress and a white
proving sheet.
I knew all about this linen. If, during the act of consummation, a hapless bride failed to bleed as evidence of her virtue, she was punished by a method ordained by her new husband and any male members of his family present. This could be anything from corporal punishment to a purification process similar to that which Watson proposed when he came to my house to find Katie.

I took solace in the fact that from the state of the bed it didn’t appear any use of it had been made today.

In the corner of the room, hidden from view of the door, they’d rigged up a whipping bench. I’d seen this in use for other purposes when I came to the Mission a number of years earlier. I stole a quick glance at Ari, giving him a nod to let him know everything would be okay. Katie was strapped to it; her petite body following the serpentine curve of the bench. Her mouth was gagged. I wondered if this was to prevent anyone else at the Mission hearing her cries and coming to her aid.

Instinctively, I made a lunge for her and was promptly seized by two of the Pastor’s men.

“Release her now or I swear I will unleash hell, the like of which you’ve never known, upon your community.”

Mackay puffed himself up, but I did notice a light colour tinge his cheeks that suggested some anxiety on his part. “Such melodrama is not necessary, Tucker. You only had to ask.” He spoke to the men holding me. “Untie her but stay with her.”

I watched, sickened as they moved their hands all over her releasing the ties at her wrists and ankles. Thank goodness we had arrived in time where she was still allowed the modesty of her clothing. They assisted her to stand then turned her to face the room. She was dishevelled, her beautiful lips swollen over the gag, her chin wet where she’d drooled. She’d been crying, and seeing her in this state meant I was still prepared to cause damage to anyone who’d had a hand in this.

“Remove the gag, unless you want your tongues ripped out,” I spoke between clenched teeth.

“Do as Mr. Tucker asks, gentleman,” Mackay ordered, his voice sounding coated in syrup, sickening me.

Finally, Katie was free of their restraints, and I so desperately wanted her in my arms. Watson stood nearby opening his mouth as if about to complain, but the Pastor raised his hand to silence him.

“Send her over to me, and we’ll go quietly. You’ll hear no more from us about the kidnapping—”

“Mr. Tucker, you don’t seem to understand that there has been no kidnapping. Miss Masefield came of her own free will to this country,
after
she signed a marriage contract with the Mission. Her passage was paid, and I believe an extra sum of money was forwarded to her to ease her way, so to speak. She can’t expect to simply arrive here and decide that fulfilling her contract no longer interests her. She has obligations, and there are consequences if she doesn’t meet them. It’s all here; the same document she signed.” He’d picked up some papers from a shelf alongside where he stood, waving them at me as if they amounted to some sort of legal proof.

I unclenched my fists. “By the time her ship arrived, the man she came to marry had passed away. That means he was not here to fill his side of the contract, Pastor, so I think we can say it has been nullified.”

“The man’s relation, however, as the heir apparent is able to do so. The contract, I believe, remains valid.”

“I don’t want to marry Mr Watson,” Katie’s voice rose strong from the other end of the room.

“Do not speak young woman, unless you are directly addressed,” the Pastor snapped, the slip of his composure conveying for the first time that he was not as confident of the validity of his contract as he wanted me to believe.

I wished to speak out in Katie’s defence but my common sense, which struggled right now to win the battle over my rage, assured me the best thing would be to try and talk our way out of this situation.

“Quiet, sweetheart,” I said gently, hoping she would get enough from my tone and words to calm herself. We shared a long look, and I knew in that moment that she was mine, willing and ready to give herself over to me. Then Mackay stepped towards her, his possessive manner taking the tension up a level. I had to do something to prevent him moving any nearer. “Pastor Mackay, I’m more than happy to cover Mr Watson’s costs if you’ll let me know the sum they tally up to.”

“Mr. Tucker.” The pastor exaggerated a sigh. “If you as a wholesaler have a load of apples shipped to your warehouse for the Carrington’s store, I am quite certain you wouldn’t sell them to Mr Barrowclough instead, simply because he decided he liked the look of them. You would honour your contract and sell them to the Carringtons, the people who placed the order for the goods in the first place. I am a man of God, Mr. Tucker, and I will honour the agreement I have with the Watson men with regard to providing them with a wife.”

“There isn’t a magistrate in the land who would rule your contract legal and binding.”

“Once the marriage has taken place in a few hours, the contract is no longer necessary. But first, I will conduct the purification ceremony. You are welcome to stay and witness, Mr. Tucker; after all, it is your misdeeds that have made the ceremony necessary. Not him, though.” He pointed to Ari. “He must leave.”

For the moment, I ignored the slur against Ari. We both knew the history that drove it, and it had nothing to do with Ari’s Māori blood. However, it was our immediate task to retrieve Katie and get her home safely. “I have a marriage license, Pastor. One that says Miss Masefield and I are registered to wed. That is all I need to bring the constabulary up here and have Miss Masefield removed to my home.”

I was sure I had him. As a celebrant, he would be fully aware of the legality of a licence over the sham wedding ceremonies he performed.

“You’re bluffing,” Pastor Mackay said, his voice raising an octave with his temper.

I withdrew the papers from my coat pocket. “I am most certainly not; now hand her over.”

A sly smile crept across the Pastor’s face as he shook his head. “I wouldn’t be too hasty about calling in the constabulary given the immoral acts that take place in your household, Mr. Tucker. I think you will discover the police to be more interested in the unnatural behaviour in which you and your Māori friend indulge rather than a small discrepancy over paperwork.”

“I would be very careful before I made a threat like that, Mackay.”

Ari had spoken his voice dangerously low, and I recognised his stillness to be that of him close to losing control. I had to settle him for he would endanger his own freedom should he be driven to assaulting the Pastor or any of his men. The courts would look poorly upon a Māori attack on a clergyman under any circumstances.

“It’s okay, Ari.” I placed a warning hand on his arm, but he wrenched it away.

“Nothing is okay when Katie’s safety is at stake,” he hissed.

I took hold of his shirtsleeve. “Let me deal—”

Ari pushed me aside. “You, Pastor Mackay, have yourself committed immoral acts and are guilty of the crime of carnal knowledge.”