of Mr O’Keefe.’
Lachlan recognised her cultured tones and English accent; they marked her as a lady well born.
‘Do you know Mr O’Keefe?’ Lachlan asked, curious at her knowledge of the man reputed to be one of the best fighters in Sydney.
‘My brother, Captain Charles Lightfoot, is an avidfollower of the pugilistic scene in the colony,’ Amanda replied. ‘He once took me to witness a bout between Mr O’Keefe and a brute of a man from a visiting merchant ship. Mr O’Keefe soundly thrashed the man.’
Lachlan did not want to hear that and mumbled, ‘I am contracted to fight Kevin O’Keefe.’
‘You are going to fight Kevin O’Keefe!’ Amanda exclaimed ‘Do you think that wise when you do not know of his reputation?’
‘I was talked into the match,’ Lachlan said. ‘Jimmy thinks it is a quick way to earn some money.’
A worried expression creased Amanda’s pretty face. ‘You seem to me on first impressions to be a nice young man,’ she said. ‘You could be seriously hurt in a fight with Mr O’Keefe.’
‘It is a risk every fighter is aware of when they step into the ring with another fighter,’ Lachlan replied. ‘We will not know the outcome until the match is ended.’
‘What profession do you practise, Mr MacDonald?’ Amanda asked.
‘Profession? I do not have a profession,’ Lachlan said. ‘I am a working man who labours on building sites.’
‘I am surprised at that,’ Amanda said with a note of genuine surprise. ‘From the manner of your speech I would have thought you a man of letters, albeit a very young one.’
‘Now it is you who are being complimentary,’ Lachlan replied with a slow smile. ‘It is just that I love reading and was fortunate enough in my growing years to have a teacher who fiercely believed the way from one station in life to another was in learning from books – and speaking like a toff.’
‘You had a good teacher,’ Amanda said. ‘You could pass as a gentleman in Sydney were it not for the manner of your dress.’
‘Well, another compliment to you, Miss Lightfoot,’ Lachlan said warmly. ‘From your manner of speech and bearing I would have taken you for a lady of good breeding.’
Amanda burst into a short, soft laugh. ‘My father was a merchant from the north of England. But he was much wealthier than our neighbours with their ancestral titles. My pedigree has been bought – not inherited. Until my parents passed away I was considered a rebel by my family because I had a desire for learning not necessary for a woman from a privileged home. I have read many books on a great diversity of subjects and I also have a love for colonial literature and poetry. Have you read Mr Kendall and Mr Harpur’s poetry?’
‘I am afraid that I have not heard of them,’ Lachlan replied honestly.
‘If you have a love for poetry,’ Amanda said, ‘then I do recommend both men’s works. They have a beautiful way of putting into poetry the very nature of the Australian colonies. I think Mr Kendall’s book Poems and Songs is extraordinary and believe that one day he may be nominated as our first poet laureate to the Queen.’
‘Then, I shall endeavour to read Mr Kendall,’ Lachlan said. Without knowing it, he had been drawn into a world far away from the gruelling labour of the construction site and his loneliness in this new, crowded place.
‘Would it be forward of me to invite you to take a walk through the park?’ Lachlan asked, at the same time holding his breath and expecting rejection.
‘I would be delighted, Mr MacDonald,’ Amanda said, offering her gloved hand for him to assist her down from the carriage.
They strolled together through the crowds in the park, engrossed in each other’s company, talking on so manysubjects. Time flew so fast and it was obvious that Amanda found him interesting company.
‘You do not talk on sport as so many other young men do,’ she commented. ‘It is so refreshing to engage in conversation on the
Lachlan recognised her cultured tones and English accent; they marked her as a lady well born.
‘Do you know Mr O’Keefe?’ Lachlan asked, curious at her knowledge of the man reputed to be one of the best fighters in Sydney.
‘My brother, Captain Charles Lightfoot, is an avidfollower of the pugilistic scene in the colony,’ Amanda replied. ‘He once took me to witness a bout between Mr O’Keefe and a brute of a man from a visiting merchant ship. Mr O’Keefe soundly thrashed the man.’
Lachlan did not want to hear that and mumbled, ‘I am contracted to fight Kevin O’Keefe.’
‘You are going to fight Kevin O’Keefe!’ Amanda exclaimed ‘Do you think that wise when you do not know of his reputation?’
‘I was talked into the match,’ Lachlan said. ‘Jimmy thinks it is a quick way to earn some money.’
A worried expression creased Amanda’s pretty face. ‘You seem to me on first impressions to be a nice young man,’ she said. ‘You could be seriously hurt in a fight with Mr O’Keefe.’
‘It is a risk every fighter is aware of when they step into the ring with another fighter,’ Lachlan replied. ‘We will not know the outcome until the match is ended.’
‘What profession do you practise, Mr MacDonald?’ Amanda asked.
‘Profession? I do not have a profession,’ Lachlan said. ‘I am a working man who labours on building sites.’
‘I am surprised at that,’ Amanda said with a note of genuine surprise. ‘From the manner of your speech I would have thought you a man of letters, albeit a very young one.’
‘Now it is you who are being complimentary,’ Lachlan replied with a slow smile. ‘It is just that I love reading and was fortunate enough in my growing years to have a teacher who fiercely believed the way from one station in life to another was in learning from books – and speaking like a toff.’
‘You had a good teacher,’ Amanda said. ‘You could pass as a gentleman in Sydney were it not for the manner of your dress.’
‘Well, another compliment to you, Miss Lightfoot,’ Lachlan said warmly. ‘From your manner of speech and bearing I would have taken you for a lady of good breeding.’
Amanda burst into a short, soft laugh. ‘My father was a merchant from the north of England. But he was much wealthier than our neighbours with their ancestral titles. My pedigree has been bought – not inherited. Until my parents passed away I was considered a rebel by my family because I had a desire for learning not necessary for a woman from a privileged home. I have read many books on a great diversity of subjects and I also have a love for colonial literature and poetry. Have you read Mr Kendall and Mr Harpur’s poetry?’
‘I am afraid that I have not heard of them,’ Lachlan replied honestly.
‘If you have a love for poetry,’ Amanda said, ‘then I do recommend both men’s works. They have a beautiful way of putting into poetry the very nature of the Australian colonies. I think Mr Kendall’s book Poems and Songs is extraordinary and believe that one day he may be nominated as our first poet laureate to the Queen.’
‘Then, I shall endeavour to read Mr Kendall,’ Lachlan said. Without knowing it, he had been drawn into a world far away from the gruelling labour of the construction site and his loneliness in this new, crowded place.
‘Would it be forward of me to invite you to take a walk through the park?’ Lachlan asked, at the same time holding his breath and expecting rejection.
‘I would be delighted, Mr MacDonald,’ Amanda said, offering her gloved hand for him to assist her down from the carriage.
They strolled together through the crowds in the park, engrossed in each other’s company, talking on so manysubjects. Time flew so fast and it was obvious that Amanda found him interesting company.
‘You do not talk on sport as so many other young men do,’ she commented. ‘It is so refreshing to engage in conversation on the
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