Virtue of a Governess - By Anne Brear Page 0,28

Mr West tapped on the side of the carriage and the driver halted the horses at the top of a steep bank. A small jetty poked into the water and tied up at the end of it was a wooden boat. They’d travelled away from the city, keeping the harbour on their right, but around them the bush grew wild with only a few wooden shacks showing evidence of human occupation.

“Where are we, Nat?” Frances asked as he helped them down from the carriage.

“At an inlet. The river goes up to Parramatta, but we shan’t go that far. Come along.” He handed them down the rough stone steps cutting into the bank and soon they were seated in the wooden boat and being introduced to a man, Bill Coates, who’d pull the oars.

“Now, Nat.” Frances frowned. “We’re too heavy for one man to row. Help him out.”

“Frances.” Nat laughed. “I don’t think-”

“You rowed at Cambridge, you can row us.” She settled into the boat and handed him one of the spare set of oars. “Show us your strength, or is it beneath you to row two females to a picnic?”

“Is this some kind of test?” He fumed, sitting at the other end of the boat.

“I’m sure I can manage, sir,” Bill Coates mumbled through his full beard. “The tide is with us.”

“Nay, Mr Coates, my sister, as is her habit, has set me a challenge, one I cannot ignore.” Shrugging off his fine grey jacket, he glared at Frances and set the oars into the water.

“Are you comfortable, Nicola?” Frances grinned, having won the battle.

“Yes, thank you.” Nicola adjusted her brown skirts, and aware that Mr West would be looking at her back the entire way, she straightened her shoulders and held her chin up. He’d never be able to accuse her of having bad posture.

The September sun warmed them and soon Nicola relaxed a little as the slap of the oars became a soothing rhythm. This was her first chance to be away from the city, and she took the opportunity to study their surroundings. The water was a dark brackenish-green but clean and flowing. Along the sandy banks going past, she spotted spindly pale wildflowers and plants she’d never seen before. Sometimes, a dwelling would appear, complete with a fenced vegetable garden, but generally the bush remained virgin. With the city behind them, the smell in the air changed too. Gone was the sourness of people’s refuse and instead the sharp scents of eucalyptus and the softer tea tree retained their rightful place. Nevertheless, other softer scents vied for supremacy and it frustrated Nicola that she didn’t know what they were or where they came from. She hated to be ignorant and vowed to find books at the library to redeem this flaw. This country was her new home, she would find out about it all.

“Select a spot to stop, Frances,” her brother ordered from the rear of the boat.

Frances craned her neck, scanning both sides of the river. “Over to the right, Mr Coates. We’ll beach on that sandy area between those two large gum trees.”

“As you wish, Miss West.” Coates strained on the oars and he and Mr West guided the boat to the shallow edge of the river, thrusting the bottom onto the sandy soil.

After Mr Coates helped Frances and Nicola out onto the grass bank, he reached in for the wicker hamper and the red blanket sitting on top of it.

“Where shall we spread the picnic, Nicola? Frances asked, marching further into the bush.

Following, Nicola listened to the call of the native birds, one sounding like a whip cracking. Sunlight streamed through the gangling gum trees and she ducked under a thicker tree with small, thin green leaves.

“Under this tea-tree?” Mr West came up behind her and she spun around to gaze shyly at him.

Frances took the blanket and spread it out, covering the sparse dry grass. “This is as good a place as any.”

Nicola knelt on the blanket and helped Frances unpack the variety of food while Mr Coates took out his own meal and wandered down to the water to sit under another tree to eat.

“I hope you are hungry, Miss Douglas.” Mr West smiled, sitting down opposite her. “I asked my cook to include a good selection.”

“I’m sure we will be most spoilt.” Nicola kept her head down and concentrated on the handling of the food. Indeed, it seemed as though his cook had packed for an army. She laid out

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