Chapters (53)
- Cover
- About Alison Stuart
- Also by Alison Stuart
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgements
- Preview of The Goldminer's Sister
‘Much improved, thank you. Mercifully his leg is just cut and bruised. Nothing broken.’
Mrs Russell’s hand went to one of her many chins. ‘Such an awful thing to happen. Young Daniel was fortunate that Mr Hunt was on hand to save him.’
The bell above the door jangled again and two young women entered. On seeing the respectable matrons, Sissy and Jess, the youngest of Lil’s girls, froze.
The two older women turned as one, disapproval written in the set of their tightly corseted backs.
‘You are not welcome in places of respectable business,’ Mrs Russell said.
Sissy straightened, then thrust a hip in the direction of the outraged matron. ‘We’ve every right to be here.’ She brandished an envelope. ‘Jess has a letter to send and Mrs Greaves has promised to help her with her words.’
Mrs Russell rounded on Adelaide. ‘It has come to our attention …’
‘That you have been consorting with …’ Mrs Jervis continued but, seeming lost for words, turned to her friend.
Mrs Russell waved a gloved hand at Jess and Sissy. ‘… these unfortunate women from Mrs White’s hostelry.’
Adelaide had been expecting this. ‘They have every right to enter this post office, and who I choose to consort with is none of your business.’
Mrs Russell plumped herself up like one of Adelaide’s chickens. ‘As a respectable Christian woman, Mrs Greaves, it appals us that you should allow your son to be in the company of these hoydens. There is no place for fallen women in our respectable society.’
‘On the contrary, the good Lord himself made a point of consorting with men and women from all walks of society,’ Adelaide said.
Mrs Russell drew herself up to her full height, preparing to deliver a sermon.
‘Excuse me, ladies.’ As if he had been summoned by the good Lord himself, the neat, cassock-clad figure of the Reverend Johnson, vicar of St Thomas on the Hill, as the Church of England had been named, loomed up behind the two girls in the doorway. He doffed his hat to the room in general.
Mrs Russell sniffed and gathered up her packages. ‘Reverend, your timing is excellent. We were just expressing our views to Mrs Greaves that women of this kind—’ she waved at Sissy and Jess again, ‘—are not welcome in Maiden’s Creek. As chair of the Temperance Society, I exhort you to rid the town of … of such evil temptations.’
The vicar blinked behind his glasses. ‘And how precisely do you propose I do that, Mrs Russell?’
‘Drive them from the town!’ The colour in Mrs Jervis’s face had risen considerably and Adelaide wondered if the poor woman was about to have an attack of apoplexy.
‘My dear ladies, pitchforks and firebrands seem somewhat extreme. Personally, I believe in live and let live.’ The soft American drawl came from the doorway behind Adelaide.