Captain Ramsey, that you are the first person to whom I have spoken who has not spent a great deal of time warning me about Dr Kerr, after commiserating with me for his having been the first of Sydney’s inhabitants whom I chanced to meet.’
‘Oh, Kerr,’ laughed Pat Ramsey cheerfully. ‘What the 73rd resents the most about him is his having been sent here for committing treason. To make matters worse, when he and that outsider Dilhorne visited the Chevalier Ince—the fencing master sent here for fraud—to take fencing lessons, they turned out to be better with the foils than any of our officers. They’re both crack shots, too. Don’t seem fair, does it?’
‘But you don’t feel particularly resentful about them, Captain Ramsey?’
‘No, not I. I can’t feel resentful about poor devils sent here in chains. I shall be leaving shortly, while Kerr and Dilhorne are doomed to stay in this Godforsaken hole. Kerr’s a good doctor, but one thing worth remembering about Dilhorne is that he’s dangerous.’
All this merely served to push Sarah more and more towards meeting again these strange characters who were remarkable enough to set everyone talking. The perversity that ruled her these days drove her towards the dangerous and the forbidden, the permitted and the allowed having let her down so much. Truth to tell, Dr Kerr fascinated her, particularly now that she knew that he had arrived here in chains. Never before had she met such high-nosed insolence—and from an ex-convict, too.
In future, of course, she must not let herself be tempted to lose her temper with him. No, dignified reproof must be the order of the day. He must be left in no doubt of her displeasure should he offend again, but, in future, she must not give him any opportunity to attack her verbally again. By no means.
She really must stop thinking about the wretch.
Fortunately for Sarah, her new life in Sydney was busier than she might have expected. Lucy Middleton arrived on the following afternoon to fulfil the promise which she had made on the previous night to show Sarah all of Sydney’s main sights as soon as possible.
Lucy, charming in a young girl’s straw hat and a simple muslin dress embroidered with flowers, came to the point as soon as possible.
‘I persuaded Mama to let me visit you alone—much more fun for both of us. I do hope that you are not finding Sydney too hot. I know that Mama was very overset by it when she first came here, but one soon gets used to it. She thought that you might be feeling lonely today so she told me to ask you to come to dinner this afternoon. Papa has promised to take us all out to Hyde Park for an airing afterwards. Do say yes. Mr Langley is included in the invitation, of course.’
‘I shall be delighted to come, but I fear that John will not be home in time. He has borrowed a horse from Lieutenant Wright and gone to find kangaroos to draw. Goodness knows when he will return!’
‘Then you must come on your own. I’m longing to talk to you. It’s such a bore having no one but Mama and the children to go out with. There are so few presentable young ladies in the colony, you see.’
Sarah needed no persuasion. A drive to Hyde Park—named after the one in London, presumably—might not represent the height of sophistication and excitement, but it would certainly be better than sitting around waiting for John. Particularly when it would be likely that he would end his day in the Officers’ Mess and not arrive home until the small hours.
‘One thing, Lucy. What ought I to wear? Formal dress or something more comfortable? A muslin, perhaps—it would certainly be cooler than the toilette I am wearing.’
Lucy gave a jolly laugh. ‘Goodness, Sarah, I’m sure you would look well in anything. Mama said after she met you last night that she hoped that I would take a leaf out of your book, you looked so perfectly composed. Yes, a muslin would be splendid. Papa will send the carriage round for you after nuncheon. We can spend the afternoon together before dinner.’
Later, after dinner, sitting by Lucy and opposite to Mrs Middleton, Sarah was to wonder whether her gown was appropriate after all. Alongside the simple dresses of the Sydney ladies it seemed somewhat over-elaborate. Of course, the many curious eyes that roved over her, both male and female, were, she told herself, solely the result of her being a newcomer. Soon she would no longer be a subject of uncommon interest but would be simply one of the crowd; she could hardly wait for that day to come.
The drive to the Park through streets lined with houses, whose gardens were blazing with flowers, was faintly reminiscent of home, but the stalls of fruit on each corner, and the gaily coloured parrots that hung in cages on every verandah, were not.
Hyde Park, when they reached it, proved to be set among trees and was pleasantly cool. The Regimental Band was already there, stationed beneath the pines, playing popular songs and marches. Men, mostly Army officers, walked, rode and drove about. The ladies sat in their carriages and waited to be spoken to or invited to promenade. Sarah was surprised to find that it really was a miniature version of the Hyde Park she knew in London—and it was none the less pleasing for that.
Major Middleton accompanied them on horseback, and, once their carriage was drawn up, facing the view inland, but near to the band, he left them to visit the Menzies’s carriage. The Middletons’ was immediately besieged by all those young officers who had not yet seen Sarah, but who had already heard that a rare beauty had come among them and were eager to meet her.
As Lucy and Sarah descended from the carriage, bold eyes roved over Sarah’s elegant face and figure, mustachios were twirled at her, as each young fellow jostled for her attention until Pat Ramsey, with Frank Wright in tow, arrived to disperse them all with a word and a look.
‘Have a heart,’ he exclaimed. ‘Besides, you have not been so much as introduced to Miss Langley while Frank and I have.’
‘Then you could introduce us,’ said one bold young ensign, to be quelled by Pat with:
‘Another day, perhaps. Now, Miss Langley, what do you think of our little imitation of London?’
‘That it has its own charms, Captain Ramsey.’
‘Bravely said. If you look around, you may note how democratic we are here—more so than in London, I think. There are several Emancipists present, and most of them are on good horses, too.’
For the first time since she had arrived in Sydney, Sarah engaged in light-hearted banter with a man as they strolled across the grass. ‘Pray tell me, Captain Ramsey, how I am to distinguish them if they are mounted as well as the 73rd’s officers?’
Pat laughed, showing his splendid teeth. ‘Well, in at least two cases you will find no difficulty at all in detecting them, for both Dilhorne and his friend Dr Kerr are taking the air here this evening.’
‘I see that most of the visitors are speaking to one another—will anyone speak to them?’
‘Bowing at a distance by the men is as far as most are willing to go. The ladies, of course, ignore them.’
‘Of course.’
Pat was about to continue their tête-à-tête when a harassed young ensign ran up to him and saluted. ‘Sir, Colonel O’Connell has sent me to ask you to return to Barracks immediately. The matter is urgent.’
Pat gave a great sigh. ‘The matter is always urgent. I wonder what bee buzzes in his bonnet this time. Forgive me, Miss Langley, for leaving you. I will escort you to your carriage and perhaps we may continue our conversation
