“Before you came to this place—what occupation had you?”
“I be a breakman, sir, in my last year as apprentice. Then I was done by the constable. I don’t know what for, but none would speak up for me. Probably Jem done it, for he was envious I could lay a better course and earn a shilling more for the work.”
“A breakman? There’s much employment laying bricks here in the colony.
“I wished to be more, so I took the thirty acres when I was emancipated. And Martha was given a cow when we married.” He sighed dejectedly, tears filling his eyes. “But I ain’t a farmer. Lived all me life in London—ne’er once walked to the country. And what to do with Martha and the babe? We live off the charity of Mrs. Joyce an’ the Commissary in Parramatta.”
Darcy came to a quick decision—so often the case when he pronounced sentence in court. “Thomas, gather your belongings and those of Martha. You’ll come with us. We journey to Green Hills, and if there’s no employment for you there, you’ll come to Sydney.”
Elizabeth dressed, and Darcy told her of the plan. She entered the hut to enquire as to how Martha fared during the night. The child, though small, was surprisingly healthy, sucking strongly at the breast. Harshita had already supplied a breakfast of porridge, toast, and sweet tea.
“Mrs. Darcy, my Jenny—for she’s named after Mother, God rest her soul—owes her life to you an’ Miss Ann. How can Thomas an’ I repay you?” She burst into tears. “We’ve no money; all’s been sold an’ the cow ran off.”
“Martha,” replied Elizabeth, sitting beside the young girl, nowdistraught as was often the case with mothers after the trauma of the birthing. “Mr. Darcy has spoken to Thomas. You and he will accompany us to Green Hills, where Thomas will work in his trade—there’s much demand for good bricklayers, and his apprenticeship was near complete. He’s no farmer, and there’s little for you here. Seated in the cart, you and little Jenny are strong enough for the journey. Gather what you will, and leave the rest—this life you must leave behind.”
Darcy rode back to the inn. “Mrs. Joyce, ‘tis good news. Martha has birthed a girl; though small, she’s strong and healthy.”
“Saints be praised! Is it true, sir, that Mrs. Darcy is a midwife? She’s such a fine lady, and you a gentleman.”
“You’ve the right of it. Mrs. Darcy is both midwife and matron of the orphanage. You may not know, but I am judge-advocate for the colony.”
“Pardon, sir, please forgive any discourtesy. Judge-advocate! Where’s William? He must know of your visiting here.”
Darcy smiled. Seldom did people greet him so jovially. Most times, they would rather not know him. “I’ll tell those of my acquaintance to stop here, but I pray your ale is as good as you say, else you’ll do great damage to my reputation.”
He laughed. “Have no fear, Mrs. Joyce. I understand yours is a charitable disposition and that Martha and Thomas have much to thank you for. But it’s obvious he’s no farmer, and should never have taken up the allotment.
“It shall be put up for sale, so pass the word in the neighbourhood to any who would have an interest in the purchase. If so, they can approach me in Sydney, in person or by letter, and we can agree on a price. Thomas, by trade, is a bricklayer. There’s much need of his skills in Green Hills and also Sydney—he and his wife will travel with Mrs. Darcy andme.”
Darcy tipped his hat. “Good day to you, and pass on my appreciation to your husband. You’ve a fine establishment.”
Chapter 25
Green Hills, October 10, 1810
They arrived at the Red House at three o’clock in the afternoon. The building was truly red, having been built of some thirty thousand bricks fired from the local clay. Thomas was much impressed by the workmanship, though not as good as his own. The notion of bettering himself by farming, for which he possessed no aptitude, was foolish. They were welcomed into the house by Mr. Thompson’s housekeeper, who immediately took Martha to the kitchen to allow her to suckle the babe with some privacy. They were shown into the parlour, where Mr. Thompson lay upon a divan. He endeavoured to stand, but Elizabeth had none of it.
“Mr. Thompson, ’tis we who impose on you. Please remain where you are most comfortable.”
“Mrs. Darcy, Mr. Darcy, you’re mighty welcome. But could ye introduce me to this young man?”
“I be Thomas, sir. My wife, Martha, now gone to your kitchen, was delivered of a girl by Mrs. Darcy just yesterday. An’ I, a breakman, was told by Mr. Darcy to give up farming, of which I’ve no skill, an’ come here for work.”
Mr. Thompson smiled. “Aye, there’s work to be had. Head down t’yard and ask for Mr. Warbutt. He’s doin’ a bit o’ buildin’ for me, and only yesterday he were grumblin’ about not havin’ enough proper hands. If you’re straight and not afraid of graft, he’ll likely give you a go. But I can’t vouch for you, seein’ as I don’t know you—show him what you’re made of. Now off with you. I’ve business with Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, and I’ve been lookin’ forward to their company a fair while.”
Thomas, after thanking Mr. Thompson profusely, left theroom in search of Mr. Warbutt. “I can see clear as owt, Darcy,” said Thompson, “his plot must’ve been in a right state for thee to fetch him here.”
“He had no stock and the barest of cultivated land. But he has ambition, for he wishes to better himself. If he does have skill as a bricklayer, he could do well in the colony. Introducing him to Mr. Warbutt was exceedingly kind of you.”
“Nowt t’do wi’ kindness, just plain sense,” Thompson answered. “Warbutt’s fair short o’ lads, an’ I’m behind wi’ buildin’. There’s a brick gang nearby knocks out two thousand bricks a day—your Thomas’ll have his work cut out just keepin’ pace wi’ ’em.”
He turned to Elizabeth, who sat next to Darcy on a small couch. “Mrs. Darcy, it’s grand to see you at the Red House. Yer room’s all set; if you fancy, you can freshen up a bit.”
Elizabeth departed to change from her riding habit. That evening, at dinner in a small private dining-room, she found only herself, Darcy, and Mr. Thompson present.
“Did ye take to St. Andrews, Mrs. Darcy? If it weren’t for me work here in Green Hills, I’d fancy living there meself.”
“It’s delightful, and you have created such a lovely farm. The scenery and situation is much to be admired. Mr. Darcy and I enjoyed our stay immensely.”
