‘So, my dear. What do you think of that then?’
‘Whatever you believe is best for me, Father,’ she managed, lowering her eyes so that he couldn’t see the anger contained within them. ‘But what about Mother when the baby arrives? Surely she will need my help?’
‘We have discussed that, and I have assured your mother that when the time comes, I will see that funds are available to hire extra help.’
In all her eighteen years at the manse, there had never been ‘funds’ to ‘hire extra help’.
‘Katherine, speak to me,’ Ralph implored her. ‘Are you unhappy about this arrangement?’
‘I . . . don’t know. It . . . has all come as a surprise.’
‘I understand.’ Ralph leant down and took her hands in his, his mesmeric eyes boring into hers. ‘Naturally you must be confused. Now, you must listen to me. When I met your mother, I was a captain with the 92nd Highlanders and our futures looked set. Then I was sent to fight in the Boer War. I saw many of my friends – and enemies – extinguished by the fire of other men’s rifles. And then I myself was shot at the Battle of Majuba Hill. In hospital afterwards, I had an epiphany. I prayed that night that if I were saved, I would dedicate my life to God, give every breath to try to halt the injustice and the bloody murder that I’d seen. The following morning, with the doctors not expecting me to last the night, I woke up. My temperature was down and my chest wound healed within days. It was then I knew and understood what my future path would be. Your mother understood too; she is full of God’s love herself, but in doing what I felt I must, she has suffered, and so have you and your sisters. Do you see, Katherine?’
‘Yes, Father,’ Kitty answered automatically, although she didn’t.
‘This journey to Australia with Mrs McCrombie is an opening to the kind of society that your mother’s family is part of. Just because I feel a need to save souls does not mean that the future of my daughters should be curtailed. I am sure that if you acquit yourself well on this trip, Mrs McCrombie would be happy to introduce you to a wider circle of young gentlemen both here and in Australia that might make a more suitable match for you than I ever could, given our humble financial status. She knows of my sacrifice to further the Lord’s work and of the aspirations of your mother’s family in Dumfriesshire. She wishes to do her best for you, Katherine. And so do I. Now then, do you understand?’
Kitty looked at her father, then at the soft hands that were clutching hers, and an unbidden memory of a moment similar to this made her withdraw them. Finally, she understood all too well the machinations of her father’s mind and his plan to rid himself of her.
‘Yes, Father, if you think it best, I will go with Mrs McCrombie to Australia.’
‘Wonderful! Of course, you will need to meet with Mrs McCrombie so that she can see for herself what a good girl you are. And you are, aren’t you, dear Katherine?’
‘Yes, Father.’ Kitty knew she must leave the room before her anger overflowed and she spat in his face. ‘May I go now?’ she asked coldly, rising from her chair.
‘Of course.’
‘Goodnight.’ Kitty dipped a curtsey, then turned tail and almost ran out of the study and upstairs to her bedroom.
Closing the door and locking it behind her, she threw herself onto her bed.
‘Hypocrite! Liar! Cheat! And my poor mother – your wife – expecting a child too!’ She spat the words into her pillow. Then she cried long, stifled sobs of despair. Eventually, she stood up, put on her nightgown and brushed her hair in front of the mirror. Her reflection glowed pale in the gaslight.
You know that I see through you, Father. And that is why you are sending me away.
7
‘Your father is such an inspiration to me, Miss McBride, and I’m sure to you too.’
‘Of course,’ lied Kitty as she sipped the Earl Grey tea from a delicate china cup. They were sitting in the large overheated drawing room of a grand house in St Andrew Square, one of the most sought-after addresses in Edinburgh. The room was stuffed with more elegant objects than she’d seen in Miss Anderson’s fancy goods emporium. A display cabinet lined one wall, cluttered with statuettes of cherubs, Chinese vases and decorative plates. A chandelier dripping with crystals bathed everything in a soft light which gleamed off the polished mahogany furniture. Mrs McCrombie was obviously not one to hide her wealth.
‘So devoted to his flock and denying both himself and his family all the advantages that your mother’s birthright could have given him.’
‘Yes,’ Kitty replied automatically. Then, looking at the glazed eyes of her soon-to-be employer, she decided that the older woman looked like a young girl in love. She also noticed the large amounts of face powder Mrs McCrombie had caked on her skin and thought about how much it must cost to cover the many lines that wriggled their way across her face. The high colour of her cheeks and her nose spoke of too many drams of whisky.
‘Miss McBride?’ Kitty realised Mrs McCrombie was still speaking to her.
‘I do beg your forgiveness. I was just looking at that rather marvellous painting,’ Kitty improvised, pointing out a drab and miserable depiction of Jesus carrying the cross on his shoulders to Calvary.
‘That was painted by Rupert, my beloved son, God rest his soul. Just before he went off to the Boer War and ended up in Jesus’s arms. Almost as if he knew . . .’ Then she beamed warmly at Kitty. ‘You obviously have an eye for art.’
‘I certainly enjoy things of beauty,’ Kitty responded, only relieved she’d managed to say the right thing.
‘Then that is to your credit, my dear, given there have been so few of them around you during your childhood, due to your dear father’s sacrifice. At least it will have prepared you for what we may find in Adelaide. Even though my sister assures me they have every modern convenience I myself enjoy here in Edinburgh, I can hardly believe that such a new country can compete with a culture of centuries.’
‘I will indeed be interested to see Adelaide.’
‘And I will not,’ Mrs McCrombie said firmly. ‘However, I feel it is my duty to visit my sister and my young nephews at least once before I die. And as they seem disinclined to come here, I must journey there.’ Mrs McCrombie gave a mournful sigh as Kitty sipped her tea. ‘The journey will take at least a month aboard the Orient, a ship which my sister Edith assures me provides every comfort. However . . .’
‘Yes, Mrs McCrombie?’
‘If you accompany me, there will be no fraternising with young men aboard ship. No carousing, or attending any of the dances in the lower-class lounges. You will share a berth with one other young lady and you will be available to me at all times. Is that understood?’
‘Completely.’