a lieutenant.’
He didn’t reply immediately, but sipped on a brandy. ‘I’ll think about it,’ he said eventually. ‘Isuppose the old girl might look on you more favourably if you did visit her.’
‘That wasn’t my intention,’ she murmured. ‘Blood ties are strong, and she has never seen Phoebe.’
‘Phoebe! You’d take Phoebe?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Well, I suppose that would be a good idea. Maybe some finesse might rub off on her if she was in England. She wouldn’t be consorting with convicts’ offspring if she was over there!’ He snorted. ‘Currency bastards!’
He saw the distaste on her face. ‘Well, it’s true. The whole country is overrun with them.’ He put down his glass. ‘I’m going up to change, then I’m off to my club.’
‘But you’ve only just come home – and what about supper?’
‘Supper?’ He turned from the door which he was about to open. ‘I’ll eat out. Don’t wait up for me.’
Though she was hurt that her husband should prefer the company of the gentlemen in his club to her own, she felt a sense of relief wash over her. The same relief that she felt whenever he announced that he was going on a voyage. She rang the bell. ‘Hetty,’ she said to the maid who answered her summons. ‘Tell Cook that only Miss Phoebe and I will be in for supper.’
Captain Boyle slept in his own room that night; at least, his wife thought that he had, and he didn’t appear for breakfast but came in for luncheon looking heavy-eyed and haggard. Heglowered at her from across the table and then glanced at Phoebe. ‘So what are you looking at, miss? Why are you looking so smug?’
‘I hadn’t realized that I was, Father,’ Phoebe answered coolly. ‘I certainly don’t have anything to be smug about.’ She turned to her mother. ‘Mama, did I tell you that some people I know are going to England?’
Her mother hesitated, then shook her head. ‘Really? How exciting!’
‘It will cost them a fortune.’ Phoebe sighed. ‘It must be nice to be able to afford the journey.’
Her father frowned. ‘Who’s going?’
‘Well, Ralph Hawkins for one,’ she said calmly. ‘I’m told he’s booked a berth already. He’ll be in England for their spring.’
Captain Boyle pushed his chair from the table, scraping the legs noisily on the polished floor. ‘Damned convicts,’ he muttered, rising from the table.
‘He’s not a convict, dear,’ his wife chided nervously. ‘His parents might have been but he is not.’
He shook a finger at her. ‘Don’t tell me what he is or isn’t! I know more about that family than you think. His mother is a liar and a whore and his father is a thief.’
‘Was, Father!’ Phoebe interceded as she saw her mother stiffen at the coarse language. ‘Not any more. They are the richest farmers this side of Sydney.’ She gave him a derisive smile as she taunted, ‘You don’t have to feel bad about it justbecause they can afford to send their son to England.’
Captain Boyle flushed. ‘I don’t feel bad about it,’ he bellowed. ‘But they were sent here to be punished, not to make a fortune!’ He picked up a handbell and rang it furiously. ‘Fetch me my brandy,’ he demanded of the young mulatto maid who answered. ‘And be quick about it. And you, young woman,’ he said, pointing a finger at Phoebe. ‘Get out, I want to talk to your mother.’
Phoebe looked down at her half-eaten meal, but dared not protest. I’ve gone too far this time, she considered and felt remorse as she glanced at her mother’s ashen face. ‘I beg your pardon, Papa,’ she ventured. ‘I didn’t intend to be rude.’
He didn’t answer but flourished his hand that she should leave immediately. She closed the door quietly behind her and leaned against it, pressing her ear to it in an attempt to hear the conversation within.
The maid came back with the brandy decanter and looked at Phoebe in a frightened manner. ‘He’s not angry with you,’ Phoebe
He didn’t reply immediately, but sipped on a brandy. ‘I’ll think about it,’ he said eventually. ‘Isuppose the old girl might look on you more favourably if you did visit her.’
‘That wasn’t my intention,’ she murmured. ‘Blood ties are strong, and she has never seen Phoebe.’
‘Phoebe! You’d take Phoebe?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Well, I suppose that would be a good idea. Maybe some finesse might rub off on her if she was in England. She wouldn’t be consorting with convicts’ offspring if she was over there!’ He snorted. ‘Currency bastards!’
He saw the distaste on her face. ‘Well, it’s true. The whole country is overrun with them.’ He put down his glass. ‘I’m going up to change, then I’m off to my club.’
‘But you’ve only just come home – and what about supper?’
‘Supper?’ He turned from the door which he was about to open. ‘I’ll eat out. Don’t wait up for me.’
Though she was hurt that her husband should prefer the company of the gentlemen in his club to her own, she felt a sense of relief wash over her. The same relief that she felt whenever he announced that he was going on a voyage. She rang the bell. ‘Hetty,’ she said to the maid who answered her summons. ‘Tell Cook that only Miss Phoebe and I will be in for supper.’
Captain Boyle slept in his own room that night; at least, his wife thought that he had, and he didn’t appear for breakfast but came in for luncheon looking heavy-eyed and haggard. Heglowered at her from across the table and then glanced at Phoebe. ‘So what are you looking at, miss? Why are you looking so smug?’
‘I hadn’t realized that I was, Father,’ Phoebe answered coolly. ‘I certainly don’t have anything to be smug about.’ She turned to her mother. ‘Mama, did I tell you that some people I know are going to England?’
Her mother hesitated, then shook her head. ‘Really? How exciting!’
‘It will cost them a fortune.’ Phoebe sighed. ‘It must be nice to be able to afford the journey.’
Her father frowned. ‘Who’s going?’
‘Well, Ralph Hawkins for one,’ she said calmly. ‘I’m told he’s booked a berth already. He’ll be in England for their spring.’
Captain Boyle pushed his chair from the table, scraping the legs noisily on the polished floor. ‘Damned convicts,’ he muttered, rising from the table.
‘He’s not a convict, dear,’ his wife chided nervously. ‘His parents might have been but he is not.’
He shook a finger at her. ‘Don’t tell me what he is or isn’t! I know more about that family than you think. His mother is a liar and a whore and his father is a thief.’
‘Was, Father!’ Phoebe interceded as she saw her mother stiffen at the coarse language. ‘Not any more. They are the richest farmers this side of Sydney.’ She gave him a derisive smile as she taunted, ‘You don’t have to feel bad about it justbecause they can afford to send their son to England.’
Captain Boyle flushed. ‘I don’t feel bad about it,’ he bellowed. ‘But they were sent here to be punished, not to make a fortune!’ He picked up a handbell and rang it furiously. ‘Fetch me my brandy,’ he demanded of the young mulatto maid who answered. ‘And be quick about it. And you, young woman,’ he said, pointing a finger at Phoebe. ‘Get out, I want to talk to your mother.’
Phoebe looked down at her half-eaten meal, but dared not protest. I’ve gone too far this time, she considered and felt remorse as she glanced at her mother’s ashen face. ‘I beg your pardon, Papa,’ she ventured. ‘I didn’t intend to be rude.’
He didn’t answer but flourished his hand that she should leave immediately. She closed the door quietly behind her and leaned against it, pressing her ear to it in an attempt to hear the conversation within.
The maid came back with the brandy decanter and looked at Phoebe in a frightened manner. ‘He’s not angry with you,’ Phoebe
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