A Woman Transported by Sharon Robards

Author:Sharon Robards
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, womens fiction, historical, convicts, regency 1800s
Publisher: Sharon Robards

24

ISABEL SAT in the wooden tub, trying to wash away every moment and memory of the morning, soaping her body until the soap melted away. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t wipe away the feeling of Marcus’s touch and the memory made her ill. But you’ll have Mamma soon.

In the distance, bells rang out of the town from St Phillip’s Church, signalling the end of the work day for all convicts. The daylight faded, and with it, the sound of the harbour slapping against the shoreline increased — reminding her of the large convict ships in the harbour waiting to upload their human cargo. She thought of Mamma then, wondered how long Mamma had spent in the crowded hulks on the Thames, on water thick and grey and sluggish, before being sent here.

She dreaded facing Richard, looking into his kind eyes and lying to him. What have you done? What you had to. No. I should have found another way. There was no other way.

Mrs Clancy stepped into the room from the bedroom, carrying a towel, and Isabel turned her face away to hide her guilt. “Place it on the rack.”

“Do you need anything else, madam? I’ve put your dress for tonight on your bed.”

“I won’t be too much longer, and I’d love a cup of tea.”

Mrs Clancy stepped into the bedroom. “I’ll organise it now, but you wouldn’t believe all the advertisements in the Sydney Gazette — men wanting wives and families wanting governesses for their children.”

“Men can pick women from the factory on top of the gaol.” Isabel smiled. “Have you found employment you might prefer?”

“Of course not. Just amazed that men look for wives in such a manner.”

“Mrs Clancy,” Isabel said, unable to control the waver in her voice, “is Richard home?”

“I’m sure he isn’t too far away. If I were you, I’d get ready.” Mrs Clancy left the room and closed the door.

Isabel stepped out of the tub, rubbed hair and the rest of her dry, and stepped into the bedroom on the colourful Indian mats covering the wooden floor. She secured her satin robe by the hasp around her neck and let the robe fall into place around her. The dress on the bed was a pretty lemon. She leaned it over the chair in front of the dressing table and glanced in the mirror. Her face looked like plaster. Pull yourself together. Snap out of it. What’s done, can’t be undone. She sat on the bed trying to steady her thoughts, her emotions and the urge to run, right this minute, far away.

“No! Not now.” Richard’s booted footsteps slammed across the parlour floor toward the bedroom door.

“Sir,” Mrs Clancy said. “Mrs Barrett is bathing.”

Stay calm. It’ll be all right. He won’t come in here while he knows I’m dressing. The door swung opened. Richard swaggered in carrying a folder and closed the door. His bloodshot eyes and ashen face could’ve been on a corpse.

He pushed the curls from his forehead. “Beg my pardon for intruding, but what I have to say can’t wait.

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