Matilda's Freedom (22 page)

But how?

She had to explain that she had fallen in love with him and that was why she had given herself to him—not to try and trap, or ensnare him. In one greedy moment of childish selfishness, she had wanted for herself what she could not have.

‘So then I just stayed. I stayed for purely selfish reasons because I wanted to be with you, and then I …’

‘And then you what?’

Why was he making this so difficult? Couldn’t he see what she had done?

‘Then I threw myself at you. Not for you, not for us even, but for myself because in my selfishness I wanted to take something away with me. I wanted something of you that I could keep.’

‘You wanted to keep something of me, something to remind you of me?’

This was worse than having a tooth pulled. How had she managed to get herself into this situation?

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

Kit was being impossible. He would squeeze the last bit of pride from her and leave her drained. Now Matilda knew how Tiddalik must have felt, and she must end this before he turned her to stone.

‘Because I had fallen in love with you.’ She said the words very, very quietly, incapable of lying but hoping against hope he wouldn’t hear. She had finally said it, but she could still not look him in the face. She didn’t want to see the rejection in his eyes.

He stood up, walked around the fire and then squatted next to her. She lifted her palms as a warning to him to stay back. If he came too close, she would dissolve into a screaming mess of misery at his feet.

‘Matilda. Look at me.’

She turned, knuckling away her tears. ‘But I …’

Placing his warm finger against her trembling lips, he hushed her quietly.

His deep voice was calm and soothing, but she feared the worst. It was the voice people used when they were delivering bad news, and she didn’t want to hear it.

‘There is no problem. And there is nothing we cannot solve if you will just let me speak and explain.’

A tiny glimmer of hope flared in her breast. She gritted her teeth and doused it.

‘It is true that when we met I thought to offer you assistance, but I also had the desire to keep you close to me. You captivated me from the moment I first saw you and—to be honest—aroused my baser instincts. Then, as the days passed, I discovered it was not simply your looks that enthralled me. I liked you. I liked spending time in your company, and in the same way you freed the girls from their inhibitions, you freed me too. You’ve brought out something better from within me.’

Colour flooded her face. She remembered berating him and telling him that he was not the man she had thought he was. How could she have done that? She was not the woman she’d thought she was either.

‘My marriage to Eliza was conceived long before either of us were even out of the schoolroom. It was a dream of my mother’s, and the culmination of a plan forged long ago with Barclay. I thought it would lessen the guilt she felt at having conceived me out of wedlock and at not being able offer me what she saw as my birthright. But that is not the whole story.’

Matilda turned to face Kit. He stared into the fire as though in a trance, perhaps remembering back to a time when he hadn’t had the security of a home and a family. No wonder he had so easily understood her plight.

‘You were right. I am not the man you thought I was, and not even the man I thought myself be. My mother didn’t lie to me, except perhaps by omission, and had simply not told me everything. I, to be honest, had never thought to ask.’

Matilda sat as still as she could, not daring to move. She could sense a change in Kit, as though the final pieces of a puzzle were settling into place.

‘My mother and I arrived here together. She was transported here as a convict, and I accompanied her. She was to serve a seven year sentence for theft.’

A gasp slipped out from between Matilda’s lips, and she covered her mouth with her hand.

‘My mother stayed at the Female Factory at Parramatta until I was almost four and due to be sent to a school for orphans. She accepted Barclay’s offer of marriage so we could stay together, and he provided us with all of the things she couldn’t. Theirs was a marriage of convenience, but they had common goals and within that marriage they grew to love each other. When you and I met, I had been away for three years. Nothing in my mother’s mind had changed—she had no desire to go back to a life she had well and truly moved on from, and with Barclay’s death she feared that might become a very real possibility. Although it is not something I am proud of, I had grown up with the idea of marrying Eliza for so long that I had accepted it almost
un fait accompli
.’

She stared at Kit and tried frantically to make sense of his words. Was he telling her that his mother—the woman with all the airs and graces, and the arrogant attitude—was no better than her convict father? If so, what did that make Kit? Why, a currency kid, the same as she.

A small laugh escaped Matilda’s lips. Kit turned to her and slipped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer. This time she didn’t resist. Sighing, she nestled her head against him and relaxed into the comfort and security of his arms.

‘When I made that ludicrous suggestion to you and asked you to become my mistress, that was from was my selfishness, not yours. I simply could not envisage my world without you in it. That’s why I left for Sydney so quickly. I knew that if I didn’t leave then, then I never would. I hadn’t realised how far in the past I was living. By the time I reached Horseshoe Creek to stop for the night, I knew I could never go to Sydney and follow through with it. Not only had I dishonoured you, but I would also be dishonouring Eliza, who would be an innocent bystander in the whole sorry affair. She knew nothing of the circumstances that had evolved.’

Kit rested his cheek against hers, his breath warm against her face.

‘To hear you say you had fallen in love with me had filled me with the greatest happiness I have ever known. My only hope is that I haven’t killed that love with my boorish, foolish suggestion because, my darling, I love you more than life itself.’

He loved her. She wasn’t quite sure what she should do or say. If he had said those words to her three days ago, a week ago even, she would have shouted for joy from the top of the highest hilltop. Now, she could do nothing more than sit and silently revel in the peace and calmness that his declaration evoked. There was a certain rightness and symmetry to his words, but they didn’t make her heart sing and they wouldn’t solve their problems.

After a few moments, Matilda slid her hand into the pocket of her breeches and felt the unwelcome bulk of Richard Bainbridge’s letter.

They had one more bridge to cross, and as ridiculous as she knew she was being, she had to cross it. As much as she loved this man, she had no intention of the situation going further with any half-truths or dishonesty in her heart. There had been enough of that to last them both a lifetime.

Would it make a difference? Once he knew that she was no longer the pauper she had claimed to be, would his feelings change? She wanted him to love her and want her for herself, not for her connections and money. She didn’t want to be another Eliza Ramsbottom.

Matilda cleared her throat, but her voice sounded hushed—almost timid—when she finally spoke. ‘Thank you, Kit. You have no idea how much it means to me to hear those words, but they still don’t solve our problems. Even if your mother accepts me, your family still has a standing in the Wollombi and Sydney communities. Any relationship you had with me would be frowned upon. You would be ostracized by their society, and any chance of a political career would instantly vanish.’

‘But, darling, I don’t want a political career. I’d happily throw it all away to be with you. What I want is to settle in Wollombi, and grow our grapes, and live peacefully together.’

‘You might say that now but would that really be enough for you? Wouldn’t you wake up one day, maybe five or ten years down the track, and regret that decision?’

Kit shook his head gently, but she was determined to finally have the security she craved. ‘And what about your mother—she would forever hold me responsible for shattering her dreams and your chances.’

‘I think you should stop there for a moment. Let me tell you something—when I returned to The Gate, I had hardly had the opportunity to tell my mother about my feelings for you before she interrupted, asking me why it had taken so long to come to my senses. She knew all along that I was in love with you. It was then that she told me her story, my story.’

It was easy for him to say that now, but that didn’t sound like the Mrs Barclay she had come to know. ‘Then why did she continue with her encouragement and arrange for Eliza to come and stay?’

‘I asked Mother that, too, and she said it was because she wanted me to be sure this was what I wanted. She and I both realise my decision will have an impact on our lives at The Gate. Barclay was a kind-hearted man and a good provider, but I will really have to make a go of my farming enterprise. Hopefully, Hannah and Beth will secure good marriages. You and I will be comfortable but not well off, my love. But we will get by. With you by my side, I know we can do it. Our love is a gift from God and we should not throw it away for the sake of a few extra pennies.’

Matilda pulled away from him and sat up. What was he saying? That he would not marry Eliza and they could live happily together at The Gate? Happily, but under what arrangement? Had nothing changed? She stared into the flickering flames, searching, searching for an answer to her question. She heard the scuffling of his boots as he moved away and almost jumped with surprise when she turned to find him kneeling next to her, his hand outstretched.

‘Matilda, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

His words echoed in the cave, and in the background she thought she heard the gentle murmur of voices, past and present, from those whose handprints lined the walls.

‘Kit, I can’t.’

The hands stirred gently in the fading light, and an errant breeze kissed her cheek. She turned to him.

His gaze followed her hand as she reached into her pocket and brought out the crushed envelope. ‘Circumstances have changed since I left The Gate.’

A look of disappointment and confusion flashed across his handsome face. Matilda regretted her cruelty, but she had to know. Did he love her for herself? ‘The picture you paint of our life is delightful, but it turns out the situation is not quite as either of us imagined.’

She handed him the envelope. He ran his fingers over the smudged writing and stared at her.

‘It is from Richard Bainbridge.’

‘Yes, it is,’ she said, trying for a little smile, so she could soothe the blow she feared she would have to deliver. ‘As happy as I would be to see you prove the colonial snobs of the squattocracy wrong, I don’t come empty-handed. Open it.’

Kit pulled the paper from the envelope and twisted it towards the flames. The writing would be difficult to decipher. The dampness of her riding breeches had smudged the neat, copperplate hand, but as a look of incredulity crossed his face, she knew that he had managed to make sense of the watery words.

‘Richard is talking about your family property, near Bathurst.’

She nodded. ‘It would seem I have some decisions to make, for there is a large possibility I am sitting on a fortune.’

He folded the paper and put it carefully back in the envelope and handed it back to her. Her heart dared to lift as the shadow of uncertainty receded. Still, she had to hear it from his lips.

‘Matilda, I asked you for your hand in marriage. I don’t need a piece of paper, a promise of a dowry, or anything else to sweeten the deal. I just want you.’

His searching, black eyes seeming to stare into her very soul. For a long moment, he paused and then softly said, ‘I cannot envisage a life without you in it, Matilda. Wealth, heritage, connections, society—all are inconsequential. When I turned my back on Sydney and returned to Wollombi, I did it knowing I could not live out my life without you by my side. The rest means nothing.’

Kit pulled her closer into the security of his embrace and cupped her face in his hand. He gently kissed away the single tear that had spilt down her cheek. ‘You will be my wife. We will be together. We love each other. Nothing else is important.’

He captured her lips in a tender kiss and then smiled. This was not a half-hearted tug at the corner of his lips but a real smile, one that lifted her spirits and made her heart sing.

‘We love each other,’ Matilda murmured, the truth of her words wrapping itself around her heart. ‘Yes, I will honour you by becoming your wife.’

A few hours ago, she had believed her dreams shattered—now the future beckoned. It was a future filled with promise and, most of all, with love.

Kit’s large warm hand enfolded hers and he said, ‘I think it is time we went home.’

THE END

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