Netty snorted. She thrust the basket of pastries she carried at Adelaide and caught Caleb’s arm with her hand. ‘I certainly have no objection to being seen on the arm of a handsome man. May give Amos cause for thought.’

Caleb laughed. ‘I have no desire to cross your beau, Miss Redley.’

Her friend’s words tore at Adelaide’s heart. Had she become an unnatural woman in the long years since Richard Barnwell had died? Did fear of gossip and innuendo colour every decision she made in life or was it just the guilt of knowing that she was not the virtuous widow she pretended to be?

The double doors of the Mechanics’ Institute had been flung open, revealing the long trestle tables, now laden with food. The brass band, drawn from miners and townspeople, that came together for such occasions had begun to play dance tunes from their shaded position on the verandah. A group of children were being organised into a three-legged race by one of the members of the Ladies’ Committee.

Will Penrose lounged against a verandah post talking to a pretty girl, not Sissy or any of the others from Lil’s Place, who would be busy on what was, for many, a public holiday. Out of deference to the occasion, even the stamper had been stilled.

‘Mr Hunt.’ Mrs Russell lunged at Caleb as soon as he entered the hall, grasping his hand firmly between both of hers. ‘So pleased you could join us.’ She turned, looking around the hall. ‘There are plenty of pretty girls who would love to make your acquaintance.’

Caleb freed his trapped hand. ‘I am right sorry I can’t oblige any of them with a dance today, Mrs Russell.’

The dame’s mouth creased in a moue of sympathy. ‘Your poor leg. Of course. But I do hope you will enjoy the company nonetheless.’

‘It all looks mighty fine,’ Caleb said. ‘You ladies have done a fine job.’

‘We had help, of course, from such as Mrs Greaves.’ Mrs Russell switched her gaze to Adelaide. ‘We have tried to persuade Mrs Greaves to join our little committee.’

‘I am pleased to help when I can but with my responsibilities at the post office, I simply don’t have time.’

‘You seem to have time to consort with the ladies of dubious virtue,’ the ever-present Mrs Jervis said.

Adelaide smiled sweetly and held up the basket of cheese pastries she carried. ‘I really must add these to the table.’

Adelaide found a space on a well-stocked table and set her basket down. Several children dressed in their Sunday best already hovered before the cornucopia, only to be shooed away by one of the Ladies’ Committee.

Caleb caught Adelaide’s arm. ‘Let me get you some refreshment.’

‘It’s only lemonade,’ Adelaide warned. No alcohol was permitted. The good ladies were also the leaders of the Temperance League.