Distant Mountains, page 2
She carried her youth and beauty with a proud bearing missing in so many of the young women in the colony; these women brooded and sulked, despairing of their lot in life after being dragged to this awful continent by their fathers against their will. Most had pasty faces they kept well hidden beneath large-brimmed bonnets to shield them from the sun they saw as an enemy to their complexions.
Rem thanked God it was a Sunday, and they allowed him to join the small gathering. The thought he might have missed meeting this goddess made him shudder. Tiger made a habit of inviting all newcomers to the district to his and Bella’s home soon after their arrival. The Greenwoods had recently settled here after living in Sydney for five years. Bella met them briefly on a trip into town, and Rem knew by her remarks she wasn’t particularly enamored of Edmund Greenwood or his timid wife Eleanor. Rem couldn’t give a damn about them, but was already half in love with their daughter.
“So charmed to meet you,” Sara was saying to Bella and Tiger, who were decked out in the finery kept solely for such occasions.
Extending her long, slender fingers, Sara took their welcoming outstretched hands one after the other. Turning to Rem, she offered the same delicate hand, and he bowed over it reverently. Her scent filled his nostrils, battered at his senses. Like a garden in full bloom, or a bowl of roses. Not very poetic, he knew, but she would forever remind him of a spring day; an English one, where rosebuds sent out their fragrance to entice the bees, and butterflies were entranced by the colors.
Rem realized his breathing was as uneven as his heartbeat. As he straightened, their eyes met, and for one infinitesimal moment Rem felt sure a message passed between them. Could she be as smitten as he?
“We are delighted to meet you at last,” Bella said, and for a moment, Rem wondered what she was talking about. So entranced was he, everything had gone out of his head, except this vision of loveliness.
“How do you find it here in Bathurst?” Bella asked graciously as they all took seats on the porch.
Sara spread the skirt of her blue dress about her knees, her dainty feet clad in black pumps peeped beneath the hem. Those bewitching eyes, filled with a sort of devilment met Rem’s as Bella continued, “I’m so glad the weather has seen fit to hold.” She looked to the sky, where a weak winter sun tried its damnedest to shine through the gray clouds.
“As I’m mighty glad it’s decided not to rain before we’ve had a chance to settle in our house,” Sara’s burly father said, as he settled his large frame on a chair, and huffed. “I must say I’m also glad we brought plenty of help with us to this godforsaken neck of the woods.” He had a perpetual air of grievance about him, as if the world should have tried harder to do better by him.
“'Tis a good life, once you grow used to it, and if you’re prepared to work hard for what you wish to attain, it’s very rewarding,” Tiger said, looking out over his land. It was obvious to Rem his brother-in-law was no more enamored of this man than he was. Edmund Greenwood was brusque to the point of rudeness and loud-mouthed. How did an ugly brutish man manage to sire an angel like Sara? And how did her meek and homely mother ever produce such a beauty? Perhaps she had been adopted. The thought made him smile, and he glanced over at his angel in time to see her watching him, her delicate brows raised.
Turning to Sara’s mother, Bella offered, “You must call on me for any help you need. We lean on each other out here where months can go by without us seeing anyone from the other side of the mountains.”
The pallid, insignificant woman looked to be about sixty in age, but was more than likely only in her forties. Rem suspected years of living with a boor had etched those deep lines on her face. Her pinched mouth looked forever on the verge of protest. Though, Rem doubted she would ever dare to come forth with a complaint.
“Thank you.” The words came out on a thready whisper. Glancing up like a scared hare, Mrs. Greenwood added, “I didn’t want to come,” earning a wrathful glare from her husband.
“Balderdash!” Edmund waved an arm, his brows beetling, and she seemed to shrivel even more. “You’ll soon get used to it. And with kindly ladies like Mrs. Carstairs here” —he gave Bella a sickly, condescending glance—“you’ll soon acclimatize.”
“I found it very strange when I first arrived in the colony.” Bella smiled at Mrs. Greenwood, and Rem thought, for the umpteenth time, what a lovely woman his sister was. “And please call me Bella,” she invited. “Everyone does. We don’t stand on ceremony here. Being so isolated we have to become friends.”
Rem wondered if these people knew his sister and her husband had both been convicts, sent to the colony by the British Government, same as he had. No doubt they did, for news traveled fast despite the great distances. Gossip was rife among the Exclusives and the Emancipists.
“‘Course you did. We all have to learn to change.” Edmund gave his wife a look that said she would have to change, or accept his wrath. Her hands trembled, and she twined them together on her lap.
“And how do you like living so far from the town?” Rem turned to ask the beauty seated beside him.
She shrugged. Her pouting lips were as soft, full, and pink as the rosebuds she smelt of. His insides ached with the desire to see if they tasted half as sweet as they looked. Jesus, he wanted to ravish her, to strip her and taste every part of the delectable body he knew the wool of her garment hid.
Her eyes slid from his dark red curls to the boots he was glad he’d polished for the occasion. Something deep inside him began to shake with his response.
Barely past her seventeenth birthday, so Bella had told him, and already she wore the look of a woman in control of her life and her responses. How he would like to help her lose her cool control. He made up his mind that would be his driving purpose in life from now on; sure in his conceit he would win her no matter what.
“I would have liked to stay in Sydney Town. I have my governess and companion still, who accompanied us over here, so I will have to bear it. For a while.” She sounded utterly bored, and Rem wanted to stand up and shout that he would take her wherever she yearned to go.
Her father gave her another of his wrathful glares and boomed, “Bear it, will you? 'Tis my belief there’s too many wrong 'uns in the town now. Wanted to stay over there, they did.” He jerked his head toward his long-suffering wife and his beautiful daughter and snorted. “You talk some sense into them, madam.” His smile reminded Rem of a conniving crook.
“I wasn’t too happy about leaving the town myself,” Bella said, giving Tiger the special smile she kept for her husband; one that left everyone else out of the loving and intimate world the two shared.
Rem now knew the full story of how Bella lost her first husband, Dougal, and her second-born son Dougie, on the dreadful journey across the mountains to settle over here. She battled Tiger every step of the way in those days, fighting her love for him. Rem knew that now she wouldn’t consider going back to town, even if Tiger was to give her the option, which Rem knew he wouldn’t. His life was here now, with his family, expanding his empire. Oh, they argued often still, but their fights were the quarrels of lovers; and any onlooker, including himself, always knew the rows were made up as only lovers’ tiffs could be reconciled.
“As with all things, it becomes better once you grow used to the isolation,” Bella continued. “We have quite a few families settled here now. Our small community manages to get along despite the differences in our backgrounds.”
“‘Course they do,” Edmund bellowed, as if no one would dare to argue the case with him.
“I hear you left a manager in charge of your business in town,” Tiger said, successfully managing to conceal the disdain Rem knew Tiger felt for this brash man. Rem guessed this was likely now multiplied after seeing the way Edmund treated his wife and daughter.
“That’s right.” Greenwood preened as he smiled condescendingly. Tiger had told Rem and Bella of how Greenwood arrived in Sydney five years ago as a free man and opened a store stocked with merchandise purchased cheaply at ports of call on the voyage over.
“My emporium is one of the largest and most successful now,” he boasted. Grimacing, he shook his head. “If only we didn’t have to put up with so much riff-raff in the people I’m forced to employ.”
Tiger looked toward the mutton, roasting above a fire next to the garden, Bella’s pride and joy. One of the hands signaled it was ready. “It looks as if the meat is about done.”
They strolled to a table laid with cloth and cutlery, where Rem ensured he sat beside his beautiful enchantress. He saw Bella’s raised eyebrows, but chose to take no notice of his sister’s silent warning.
Gracie began to serve, aided by one of the new women brought from Sydney recently to help with the household chores. They served steaming dishes of turnips, carrots, and potatoes.
“You might be wishing you'd stayed in Sydney, but I can’t tell you how happy I am you're here.” Rem gave Sara his most beguiling smile, one nurtured in the past year. Agnes, usually the recipient of such smiles, tended the children at a smaller table set aside for them. Her antipathy toward the beauty at Rem’s side was blatant. If looks were daggers, Sara would have been dead within five minutes of Agnes setting sight on her. Poor insignificant Agnes.
“I don’t know which is worse, to be candid. I wished we’d never come out to this country of savages, but my father was convinced a fortune was waiting to be made.” She flicked a glance at her father, now boring Tiger with a discourse on trading practices. Tiger’s expression clearly showed his indifference to her father’s monologue.
“And has he made his fortune yet?” Rem didn’t take his eyes from her face. Every move she made entranced him more and more. He couldn’t give a brass farthing for her father’s possessions, but anything that got her talking was worth the effort.
“He’s wealthy, if that’s what you mean. My mother and I are allowed to purchase whatever we need to make us presentable in society.”
“Society?” Rem laughed, glancing about. “Hardly that out here.”
She picked sparingly at the food set before her. “You’re right. We could all walk around in plain clothes and not give a fig for our appearance, and who would know or care? It really is a land of savages.” The poignancy of her quiet statement struck him in the heart.
“I would care.” Rem stared at her hard, and thought, such a hothouse plant should be pampered and spoiled, brought up amongst the society in London, not dragged to a godforsaken place like this. “Never change, sweet Sara. Always stay as beautiful and elegantly attired as you are now, no matter the cost or effort. Promise me.”
“All right. I will promise you that.” Her small laugh made his gut wrench. “Will you show me around the property?” she asked, glancing down the table.
The meal was almost at an end, and the others were still engrossed in a debate on the merits of sheep farming versus trading; Tiger enthusing about the price of fleece on the English market.
She had a way of fluttering her eyelashes that sent Rem’s heart into a spin. Trying not to show his eagerness, and thus appearing like a smitten schoolboy, Rem rose slowly, bowing over her hand. “I would be honored.” He pressed a kiss on her knuckle and was pleased to see her soft cheeks turn delightfully pink.
“Where are you off to?” Edmund bellowed, interrupting their discussion, as she settled her skirts about her with a pat of the hand.
Rem held his breath, expecting her father’s annoyance to deter her, but then she said sweetly, “Rem is going to show me around, Papa,” and gave Edmund a peck on his florid cheek. She smiled demurely at Bella. “And I need to walk after such a splendid meal. Thank you, Mrs. Carstairs. It was most enjoyable. But I shouldn’t have eaten so much.”
“Please call me Bella,” Bella insisted, waving them on their way. “Go on with you, and enjoy your stroll.” Rem grinned at Bella’s meaningful look. A look that clearly stated he was to watch his step with this beauty, or bear the wrath of her father.
Rem knew Greenwood wouldn’t make a scene in front of Bella and Tiger and smiled to himself. “Come, I’ll show you the orchard Tiger planted soon after they arrived here.” Offering his arm, he inhaled her fragrance as she hooked her hand in his elbow.
When they were out of earshot of the others, he said softly, “You smell as sweet as a garden full of blooms.”
She tapped him on the chest with her fan and smiled, showing dear little dimples in her cheeks. “Hmm.” With a chuckle, she wrinkled her nose pertly. “I’m surprised I don’t stink like one of the horses, considering our mode of transport.”
“There’s no decent lanes or carriage ways yet. It’s difficult for you to be jolted over the stubble in your wagon. Tiger’s working hard at improving that. Soon there’ll be a passable road connecting the properties on this side of the river. You should have seen it last year when I arrived.”
“Is that how long you’ve been here?”
“Eighteen months to be precise. The house was half-built, and we lived in sod huts.” He grimaced.
“Don’t you get bored out here in the middle of nowhere?” she asked as he led her around the almond trees toward where the stone-fruit trees grew. They were well away from the house now, and he looked over his shoulder to see if they could be watched from the table.
“Truth is, bored out of my head, Sara.” With a hand on her back he propelled her to a seat Tiger had positioned for Bella in the shade of what would eventually be a flourishing apple tree. She shivered, and he asked, “Are you warm enough?”
“It is cooler here.” She hugged her arms across her chest.
“Would you like to go back?” he asked, praying she would say no.
“No, would you?” Slanting him a provocative look, she flashed him a wicked smile, her dimples more pronounced.
“I want nothing more than to be here with you.” Rem took off his jacket and draped it across her shoulders. “Is that better?”
“Much.” She shrugged into its warmth. “Now you’ll be cold.”
“Me? Not while I’m this close to you. You set my blood afire, did you know that?” Rem longed to plant a kiss on one of those indentations on her cheek, to explore it with his tongue. He held her gaze and reached for one of her dainty hands.
Her chuckle was charming as she tapped him again with the fan. “Gentlemen aren’t supposed to say things like that to ladies,” she admonished, but he got the distinct impression she wasn’t the least affronted by his bluntness.
“I ain’t a gentleman, Sara. I’m a convict, plain and simple. Does that bother you?” Sitting beside her, he pressed his thigh to her skirts. She didn’t move away, although her look said she was slightly shocked.
“No, it doesn’t bother me. Unless, of course, you intend to act like one and be brutish. What did you do to get transported?” she asked.
Rem shrugged. “Same as most. Not a lot. Pinched food to help my family. Most convicts are just like me, ordinary men and women charged with transportation for petty crimes.” The memories, dulled in the past year, resurfaced. “Papa died in prison, our mum died the year I was sent out here, and one of our sisters died of starvation and the cold.” Rem grimaced as he remembered the awful winters they had to endure; winters with no food, no heat, and the threat of disease a part of their everyday existence.
“How sad.” She seemed genuinely appalled by his plight. “So is Bella all the family you have left?”
“No. We have another two sisters and two brothers still in Stepney, although Carlos, the eldest, will more than likely end up here soon. Likely the others will too eventually. It’s the way of things. A fact of life.”
“Carlos? What a foreign-sounding name. Why would your brother be named such?” Her limpid eyes turned on him inquisitively.
“Our papa was Spanish.” Her eyes widened, and Rem quickly asked, “Does that bother you?”
“Bother me? Why no.” With a careless flick of the hand, she said, “But it does surprise me. Although it shouldn’t really, for your sister’s name, Isabella, is Spanish, is it not?”
“Right.”
“And now that I look at you closely I can see you do have the appearance about you unlike most of the English men here in the colony.” Her gaze roved over his face. He sincerely hoped she liked what she saw.
“And is my different look distasteful to you?” Rem knew he was seeking compliments from her, but couldn’t help himself. How he yearned for her to be as entranced as he was by everything about her.
“Distasteful? Why of course not.” Leaning closer, she said in a husky tone that set his pulses to racing and his heart pounding at a fierce rate, “You're extremely handsome of face. But I expect you’ve been told so by countless women.” With a sniff, she looked swiftly away.
Rem chuckled, feeling ten feet tall. “A few have assured me I’m not ugly. In truth, you’re the first to tell me I’m handsome,” he lied. “And I can’t say how much it pleases me to know you admire my looks, for I must tell you that I find you the most entrancing woman on earth. You’re beautiful, clever, witty…”
“Stop.” With a laugh, she held up both hands then tapped him on his knee. “You’ll turn my head with your compliments.”
“I only speak the truth.” Rem bent his head to whisper near her shell-shaped ear, “I love you with all my heart. And when I’m out of my term and a free man; then I’ll ask your father for your sweet hand.” He placed a kiss on her knuckle, and a tremor raced over her skin. He hoped it wasn’t just the cool air causing it. He hoped she was as enamored of him as he was of her. “Will you wait for me?”
Her eyes widened at his impudence, but he knew without being told that his words captured her interest. “What nonsense. How can you speak of love, Remy? You’ve only just met me. How can you possibly have such strong feelings for me on such a short acquaintance?”
