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Carolan went out, wondering where she had heard that voice before. But that seemed a trivial matter. The main thing was where was the master, and what was he going to do about a rebellious and disrespectful convict servant who had behaved shamefully in his toilet-room? Had he forgotten? Was that possible? Wild hope soared up. A very busy man, was he not, with so much to attend to? Could it be that he had forgotten?
Something was happening in the kitchen. She heard Esther laugh. She had never noticed before that Esther had such joyous laughter. It came floating through the open door. Perhaps people’s voices were different when you dissociated them from their faces. If Newgate had left its stamp on Esther’s face, it had not been able to touch her voice. Margery spoke, excited, giggly. And then … another voice, a voice that made the blood rush into her head and beat like the tattooing of a jungle drum in her ears. The voice of Marcus.
She almost fell down the last steps to the kitchen. There he was, jaunty as ever, debonair, wearing riding breeches and leggings of leather, leaning in at the kitchen window.
She stood on the threshold of the room; he looked up and saw her, and she forgot the awful fear of punishment that was hanging over her, because the look in Marcus’s eyes dispelled all that.
He said: “Carolan!” and his voice was husky with emotion.
“Marcus!”
He held out his arms and she ran to him. He kissed her, first on one cheek, then on the other, then on the lips.
“My sweet, sweet Carolan.”
“Marcus … all this time … what has happened? Where have you been? You are free … Surely you are free? Oh, what happened? What happened, Marcus? Have you come to take me away?”
He laughed and held her from him.
“So much you want to know,” he said.
“So much I want to know. Why, your eyes are wet, my darling. Does the return of the wanderer mean so much to you then?”
Margery was laughing, holding her sides, while the tears ran out of her eyes.
“Come in! Come in! Mr. Masterman would be the first person in the world to want to show hospitality to the servant of his lady’s friend. Come in!”
“Servant… Marcus, you?”
He leaped over the window-sill. And Carolan was laughing now; they were all laughing.
“And you too, my haughty Carolan.”
“Poll!” cried Margery.
“Don’t stand there gaping, girl! Bring out glasses. A little drop of ale would go down well here, I’m thinking.”
Marcus put his arm lightly round Margery’s shoulder, and planted a light kiss on her hair.
“What angels have you fallen amongst, my darlings?”
“Go on with you!” Margery pushed him away.
“You keep your kisses for them as asks for them, young man!”
And she was laughing as she had not laughed for a long time. That was the charm of Marcus. His warm eyes embraced them all; Carolan first, Carolan his woman, then Esther, nice sweet Esther, and amorous old Margery, sullen Jin and even Poll standing there plucking her dress. Every one of them could feel the charm of Marcus.
The glasses were on the table. They sat round it. Esther was on one side of him, Carolan on the other. He put an arm round them both.
“Marcus,” said Carolan, ‘you must have been very lucky. Why … you seem not like a convict at all. You seem…”
“… A thorough gentleman! My luck held, my dears. I was taken into the service of a Miss Clementine Smith. She discovered I could manage a horse, so I drive her buggy; it is now standing in your yard.”
“You knew we were here, Marcus ?”
“Do you imagine I would not make it my business to find out where you were?”
“Marcus! I am so happy. If only I could go away with you! If only Esther and I. “If only! Do not forget we earn our rewards by good conduct.
One day …” She said: “I can wait now. I can bear anything. Esther, can you?”
“Yes,” said Esther, eyes shining.
“Yes, I can bear anything.”
“You are a pair of angels!”
“Drink up,” said Margery.
“It ain’t often I has guests in my kitchen, it ain’t!”
“That’s a pity, Ma’am, for it is right welcome you make them.”
Margery simpered and wriggled in her chair. Her eyes glistened. What a man! And he loved the girl. How he loved the girl! He was right for her. What had brought them out together? Imagine them … imagine them loving … And bless him, he had more smiles to give to Margery than to the dark-ski
Marcus told them what had happened to him.
“I went into the service of Miss Clementine Smith almost immediately. She had only just arrived in Sydney, and wanted a manservant. She said I was just the man for the job. I was lucky. I have been treated well.”
“Like a human being, I trust,” said Carolan, thinking of a pair of bleak, grey-green eyes.
like a human being exactly.”
“You are living near us?”
“In Sydney.”
“Oh, Marcus, it is over a month since we came here.”
“I know, I know. Do not forget I am not a man of leisure. I must wait on the pleasure of her who has taken me into her service. So when she arranges a visit to Mrs. Masterman, I can scarcely contain myself.”
“Oh, Marcus! Marcus! This is wonderful.”
“How much more wonderful it is to me! You look better Carolan, than when I last saw you.”
Old Margery said: “She had luck to be brought into this house. Mr. Masterman’s is the best house in Sydney, though I say it myself.”
“I am glad, Carolan,” said Marcus.
“I am glad, Esther. I don’t know how to thank the gods for placing my dear friends in such excellent hands, Ma’am.”
“What a caution!” giggled Margery.
“I don’t know what the Old Country’s coming to, when it starts transporting the gentry.”
“Your, smiles warm the cockles of my heart, Ma’am. May I come often to your kitchen?”
“What do you think this is, might I ask, a convicts’ club?”
“Just now it seems something like paradise to me!” Margery twirled the drink in her glass. The voice of him! The words of him! Never, in the course of a man-haunted life, had she known anyone like him. And the girl loved him too, and if she was not mistaken, so did Miss mealy-mouthed Esther! But what chance would she have, beside Carolan, bless the girl! That white skin, that red hair, those lashes tipped with reddish-brown. Margery shivered with ecstasy, which the mere thought of love between them could give her. If ever two was made for one another, she mused, it’s them! Come to her kitchen? He should come whenever he could; and they should have the basement bedroom to themselves any time of the day. And she herself would prepare a bit of something to eat and drink for them, for there was no denying that lovemaking could be hungry business… thirsty too! She chuckled, musing on memories that seemed suddenly touched with more romance, more beauty, in the presence of Marcus.
Now he was whispering to the two of them. He had an arm round each of them.
“I’ll whisper a secret. I shall not stay with Miss Clementine Smith much longer. There is someone else after my services; his name is Tom Blake, and he comes from Seven Dials. He was a friend of mine in dear old London Town. Carolan, Esther, did I not tell you that I should know how to make my bed soft, even here! I am going to do it, my children. Tom is here; he has just arrived. He is what is called a warm man; money, has my friend Tom. He is going to set up in business here, and I believe there is money to be made in this country by those who are prepared to work for it. Tom will become a squatter; he will buy land and a flock of breeding ewes. He will start business in a big way. But he will want a man to help him, a man who is prepared to work hard, to be partner to him. You understand; it will be his old friend Marcus. He will take me away from the household of Miss Clementine Smith. According to the records, I am William Henry Jedborough, convict for the term of my natural life; but I shall, . as servant to my good friend Tom Blake, to all intents and purposes be a free man. And do you know that after eight years of exemplary conduct a man can get a ticket of leave … even if he has been sentenced for life?”