Late into the night, Caleb sat under the shelter of the verandah of the doctor’s cottage watching the town below him go about its business. The air was too heavy and still to make for easy sleep. From somewhere in the dark mountain ranges came the smell of burning; the lightning strikes had set off a bushfire to the north of Maiden’s Creek. Nothing to worry about, the locals assured him, but he found the smell disconcerting.

He makes Mama laugh …

The words twisted in his heart and, not for the first time, he cursed the day Richard Barnwell had come to town but there was nothing he could do except brood on the inequities of life.

Soft female voices drifted up to him and the shadowy figures of two women laboured up the hill. One seemed to be supporting the other. They made slow progress, and Caleb hurried down the path to meet them, recognising Nell and Sissy as he came closer. Nell had her arm around Sissy. She looked up at him, her face a pale oval in the dark.

‘Sissy’s hurt. Lil said to take her to you.’

Caleb took Sissy’s weight and the girl leaned against him with a soft moan.

Inside the cottage, Caleb lowered her into the armchair while he fumbled to light the paraffin lamp. After the absolute darkness, the sudden light seemed too bright and as he held up the lamp, Sissy turned away, wrapping her thin shawl tightly around herself.

The gesture alerted Caleb and he bent over her, tilting her chin to the light. He drew a sharp breath. Dried blood crusted the girl’s nostrils and lower lip and even in the inadequate light, a darkening bruise disfigured her jaw. They were injuries that needed no explanation. Someone had taken to her with their fists.

Struggling to control his anger, he asked, ‘Who did this to you? Not Penrose?’

Sissy’s eyes widened. ‘No! Will’s a gentleman. He’d never lift a finger to me.’

Nell snorted. ‘It was that other so-called gentleman, the one what’s been paying court to Mrs Greaves.’

Caleb looked at Nell. ‘You mean Richard Barnwell?’

Nell nodded.

Sissy’s lip curled and she spat into the fireplace. ‘Gentleman!’

‘Let’s clean you up,’ Caleb said and asked Nell to fetch a bowl of water and cloths.

Caleb examined Sissy thoroughly. Her nose wasn’t broken but she had a cracked rib and some colourful bruises that would take some explanation, particularly to Will Penrose.

‘No really serious damage,’ Caleb said, straightening. ‘You should report him to the police.’

Sissy began a laugh which ended in a groan as her cracked rib caught. ‘You think the police care when a whore gets the back of a customer’s hand?’ she said.

‘Maidment would,’ Caleb said.

‘But Maidment’s not here and those two useless lumps he’s left in charge wouldn’t cross a man like Richard Barnwell.’