An Unconventional Heiress. Paula Marshall

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 another time.’

      ‘Certainly,’ Sarah replied, sorry to lose such an easy and pleasant companion, especially since she was doomed to sit beside Mrs Middleton again. Her conversation was scarcely lively and boredom was sure to be on the menu once more.

      Well, that was not quite true, Sarah thought ruefully, far from it, for no sooner had she settled herself in the Middletons’ carriage again than Dr Kerr on his large grey and Tom Dilhorne on a handsome chestnut rode up. Their daring to approach them was sure to cause even more gossip to run round Sydney.

      Tom, after bowing to them all, departed to greet Will French—yet another Emancipist who had made good. Mrs Middleton glared after him, but she could not dismiss Dr Kerr so easily. He was their family physician, for there was no one else as competent as he was, and she was therefore compelled to acknowledge him.

      Her manner to him was icy, to say the least, but at least she spoke to him. Doctor Kerr’s bow to them was equally cool after he had swept off his hat. Sarah thought furiously how odious it was that such a hateful man should be so attractive, much more so than most of the 73rd’s officers.

      ‘Mrs Middleton, Miss Middleton, Miss Langley,’ on one side and ‘Dr Kerr,’ on the other should have been sufficient acknowledgement, and ought to have ended their conversation, but the same devil that had plagued Sarah since she had landed in Sydney provoked her into further folly. She could not prevent herself from adding, ‘I am surprised to find you here, Dr Kerr. The occasion scarcely seems sufficiently serious to merit your presence.’

      His eyes blazed at her. His head lifted. Alan Kerr had come to Hyde Park quite determined that, if he should find Sarah Langley there, he would do as Tom Dilhorne had suggested and try to be tactful, or at least to moderate his manner to her. Both these good resolutions flew away on his discovering that she was more than ready to take the haughtiest tone with him.

      ‘Oh,’ he said, as disdainful as she, ‘I came to note the absurdities of high life, or what passes for it here, Miss Langley. I am only too happy to see that you are adding to them.’

      His speech was a red rag to a bull. Before she could stop herself Sarah shot her defiance back at him.

      ‘Is that so, Dr Kerr? You may imagine with what pleasure I shall record all the sophisticated delights of Sydney in my next letter home. My friends will be highly entertained with my accounts of the black and white aborigines of Botany Bay.’

      He was not to be set down so easily, though, and he offered her yet another of his derisory bows before answering her as harshly as she had spoken to him.

      ‘Our good fortune, Miss Langley, in having you here, is beyond belief. Pray tell us, what exactly did bring you to New South Wales? What piece of good, or bad, fortune induced you to confer the honour of your presence on us? After all, you did have the opportunity of choice in the matter, unlike many of us, as I am sure that you are aware.’

      To her horror, Sarah felt her eyes fill with tears. She could see Lucy’s delighted face, mouth half-open while she followed this exchange of politely expressed savage discourtesies.

      And he…he…he had the wit, the impertinence and the acumen to put his finger with deadly accuracy on the one thing that she could endure to think of the least. The reason why, in an impulsive fit of wilfulness after Charles’s jilting of her, she had decided to visit this dreadful place where she was being subjected to insults among a crowd of ill-bred commoners.

      She lifted her head and looked him straight in the eye, her face ashen. Damn him for his impudence and his percipience, but she would answered him as bravely as she could. He must not know how much he had distressed her.

      ‘We must not keep you, Dr Kerr, from all the friends who surround you. There are surely many present only too willing to be entertained by your ready wit. We must not monopolise you.’

      Alan Kerr knew at once that he had hurt her, that the bright armour, which she wore so lightly, had been badly pierced. But he could not stop himself, any more than Sarah could, from continuing the verbal guerrilla warfare that had sprung up between them.

      ‘You are right, as usual, Miss Langley. We are, of course, certain