An Unconventional Heiress. Paula Marshall
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‘Mrs Middleton, Miss Middleton, Miss Langley,’ on one side and ‘Dr Kerr,’ on the other should have been sufficient acknowledgement, and ought to have ended their conversation, but the same devil that had plagued Sarah since she had landed in Sydney provoked her into further folly. She could not prevent herself from adding, ‘I am surprised to find you here, Dr Kerr. The occasion scarcely seems sufficiently serious to merit your presence.’
His eyes blazed at her. His head lifted. Alan Kerr had come to Hyde Park quite determined that, if he should find Sarah Langley there, he would do as Tom Dilhorne had suggested and try to be tactful, or at least to moderate his manner to her. Both these good resolutions flew away on his discovering that she was more than ready to take the haughtiest tone with him.
‘Oh,’ he said, as disdainful as she, ‘I came to note the absurdities of high life, or what passes for it here, Miss Langley. I am only too happy to see that you are adding to them.’
His speech was a red rag to a bull. Before she could stop herself Sarah shot her defiance back at him.
‘Is that so, Dr Kerr? You may imagine with what pleasure I shall record all the sophisticated delights of Sydney in my next letter home. My friends will be highly entertained with my accounts of the black and white aborigines of Botany Bay.’
He was not to be set down so easily, though, and he offered her yet another of his derisory bows before answering her as harshly as she had spoken to him.
‘Our good fortune, Miss Langley, in having you here, is beyond belief. Pray tell us, what exactly did bring you to New South Wales? What piece of good, or bad, fortune induced you to confer the honour of your presence on us? After all, you did have the opportunity of choice in the matter, unlike many of us, as I am sure that you are aware.’
To her horror, Sarah felt her eyes fill with tears. She could see Lucy’s delighted face, mouth half-open while she followed this exchange of politely expressed savage discourtesies.
And he…he…he had the wit, the impertinence and the acumen to put his finger with deadly accuracy on the one thing that she could endure to think of the least. The reason why, in an impulsive fit of wilfulness after Charles’s jilting of her, she had decided to visit this dreadful place where she was being subjected to insults among a crowd of ill-bred commoners.
She lifted her head and looked him straight in the eye, her face ashen. Damn him for his impudence and his percipience, but she would answered him as bravely as she could. He must not know how much he had distressed her.
‘We must not keep you, Dr Kerr, from all the friends who surround you. There are surely many present only too willing to be entertained by your ready wit. We must not monopolise you.’
Alan Kerr knew at once that he had hurt her, that the bright armour, which she wore so lightly, had been badly pierced. But he could not stop himself, any more than Sarah could, from continuing the verbal guerrilla warfare that had sprung up between them.
‘You are right, as usual, Miss Langley. We are, of course, certain to meet again soon so that I may enjoy the gentle charms of your conversation. I understand that you will be at the Governor’s dinner on Saturday week, where I shall be only too happy to discourse with you further on Antipodean, as opposed to European, customs.’
His final bow to her—and the two Middleton ladies—was elaborately formal.
Sarah sat in silence, her face scarlet, and so near to breaking down that she could scarcely breathe. It was fortunate that Mrs Middleton was so angry at Dr Kerr’s effrontery that she could not see Sarah’s patent distress. She said, her face working, ‘The impudence of them. They’re sent here as punishment, and when they are here they are bare-faced enough to address His Majesty’s loyal subjects as though they’re no better than themselves, no better than transported felons.’
Lucy laid her hand lightly on Sarah’s to comfort her. ‘You are not to trouble yourself about what such a creature thinks,’ she murmured softly. ‘If he were not such a good doctor, he would still be in chains.’
Sarah was too busy musing unhappily about the recent distressing scene to hear what Lucy said. The impudence of him, she thought, echoing Mrs Middleton. He needed taking down a peg or two, that was for sure. Then her common sense, sadly missing since she had arrived in Sydney, took over, and told her that a criminal who had been brought from England in irons had already been brought down by far more than two pegs.
For all that, she thought, he behaves like a Spanish Grandee, which really is the most provoking thing! The next time that we meet I shall try to keep to my early resolution and not speak like an intemperate shrew. After all, it was Charles Villiers who did me the greater injury and not this nobody of an Emancipist doctor! I must try to forget them both.
She looked around. The bright day had been dimmed for her, but just when she had begun to think that everyone was in a conspiracy to distress her, a most unlikely saviour in the person of Tom Dilhorne arrived to take her mind off herself and her troubles. Afterwards, she was to ask herself whether that had been his real intention, rather than the obvious one of his using an opportunity to persuade her to patronise his Emporium. At the time, though, it was not a question that occurred to her.
He swept off his hat in greeting. This time it was an elegant straw one, not the battered felt he had worn on the ship. His dress was rather better, too. He made nothing of Mrs Middleton’s open annoyance at his daring to approach them at all, merely saying, ‘Your servant, ladies,’ before turning his attention towards Sarah.
‘Miss Langley, the silks from Macao, of which I spoke when you first arrived here, are now unpacked and in the shop. Not only that, when I inspected the goods, which came from England, there were some fine cottons that might be to your liking.’
‘Then you must expect a visit from me—and possibly from Miss Middleton.’ Sarah smiled, determined to show both him and the Middleton ladies that she had not been overset by Dr Kerr. ‘There are some grand occasions to be attended soon, I hear, and I shall need a positive trousseau.’
Excellent. Whatever that ass, his good friend, had said and done to distress her, it had not succeeded in dampening her spirits completely. Tom thought that he knew why Sarah Langley was having such a powerful effect on Alan Kerr, but it would not do to tell either him or the lady why they were at such odds.
Instead he remarked gravely, ‘Happen I can find some new trimmings for you, too.’ In front of Mrs Middleton his Yorkshire accent had deepened and coarsened. Whenever he had been alone with Sarah, it had always been slight.
Sarah would have detained him further, but, with the dry remark that ‘I am sure that you are finding Sydney of great interest, Miss Langley, particularly since some of our natives are not exactly as civilised as those you have encountered at home,’ he took himself off, pausing to inform her that, if she found any problems in hiring servants when she finally set up house, he would be only too willing to help her.
His departure left Sarah appreciative of both his obliquity and his consideration. Oblique, because his comments on her view of Sydney and its inhabitants could only have been taken as an amused reference to her encounters with Alan Kerr. Considerate because he had seen Mrs Middleton turn as red as a turkey cock because he was speaking to Sarah at all, and had left swiftly enough to spare her reproach from the old harridan.
Mrs Middleton did snort at her, ‘I wonder, Miss Langley, at you allowing such a creature to speak to you.’