Jealous Hearts by Kaye Dobbie

Author:Kaye Dobbie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kaye Dobbie

The summer heat was oppressive, and she longed for it to break in a storm. Christmas Day was very hot, and they sweltered over plum pudding. It seemed foolish to be indulging in such a meal just because it was the done thing on the other side of the world, and yet Molly wouldn’t hear of changing it. ‘It’s tradition,’ she said stubbornly. ‘Anything else wouldn’t be Christmas.’

Afterwards, Bregetta went outside, wondering what Maurice was doing. She could see him, sitting down to a lavish, groaning table with his big red-faced father and pale invalid mother. She saw him smiling and chatting, always friendly, always kind. Perhaps he was thinking of her.

Neil’s dog had followed her out, and she bent to pat it. She found a stick to throw, and the dog fetched it, waving its tail excitedly. She laughed, knowing what Neil would say—'That dog’s for work, not play!’ as he did to Jim when he made a fuss of it.

There were clouds building in the sky now. Great dark ones, promising the storm that had so far failed to come. The sultry air made even breathing a chore, and Bregetta wiped her brow with the back of her hand, reaching down to pat the dog again. It growled suddenly, low in its throat, and the hair on its back bristled. The flesh on the back of Bregetta’s neck prickled as if in sympathy. Startled, she swung around.

The horse and rider were close behind her, near to a stump which had yet to be dug out. The red jacket showed up bright in this place of greys and greens and sullen skies, and his dark chair clung damply to his forehead. His black eyes raked over her in a way which brought blood stinging to her white cheeks.

‘Sergeant,’ she said, and for some strange reason her voice was as cool as if he had only left this morning.

‘Bregetta,’ and his voice was harsh. After a moment she managed to turn away, bending to soothe the dog, which was still growling. Once she no longer had to meet those dark eyes she found she was able to breathe again. Carefully, she began to edge her way towards the cottage, which she could see through the trees to her left.

‘You’re a long way from Sydney,’ she said, still in that cool voice.

‘I came on the ship.’ Alistair was following her, step for step, urging his horse forward. And she knew in despair that he had no intention of allowing her to escape. ‘We’re to set up a garrison in Strand, and quarters for the convicts. You’re to have a new road, Bregetta, whether you like it or not.’

‘Poor work, I should have thought, for a man of your...talents,’ she said softly, stingingly. ‘I thought you didn’t like road-gangs.’

‘I take what I’m given,’ he said. ‘Besides, the posting suited me. I had business to attend to here in Strand.’

She met his eyes again. They were darker even than she remembered, or perhaps, before, they had warmed to a lighter colour when they had looked upon her.

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