Mystic Mountains

her fingers together to stop their trembling she looked straight ahead, ignoring the ribald shouts from a group of marines ambling by. They were obviously on their way to a tavern she could see on a corner of one of the streets nearby, a din emanating from inside its smoky depths.
    A lot of time seemed to pass. Others from the prison ship came up the hill and were driven away by their new owners. Some gave her strange looks when they saw she still sat there, alone. Gracie wasn't among them and she worried over her friend.
    When one of the other members of their mess came along with a stern-looking man wearing a reverend 's collar Isabella called, "Did you see what happened to Gracie, Ethel?"
    "The old devil walked away with her new master. I think he 's a nob," Ethel shouted back before being hustled onto a cart.
    Eventually just the one wagon remained.
    Isabella rested an arm on the iron rail at the back of the seat and put her head on it. Despite all the hustle and bustle going on around her, her eyelids began to droop.

 
     
     
    Chapter Three
     
    "Bella!"
    Isabella opened her eyes with a jerk . She'd slumped down onto the wooden bench of the wagon. Sitting upright, she felt dizzy with relief when she saw Dougal.
    The Scot, one of the few people in this world she trusted, walked at the side of her new owner, waving his brawny arms above his head and grinning from ear to ear.
    The contrast between the two men was striking—one so dark and plain, the other so fair and handsome. Waving, Isabella stood up unsteadily.
    "Oh Dougal—i s it really you?" It was too good to be true. The Englishman had actually kept his word.
    "Yes, it 's really me."  As he reached the side of the wagon Dougal beamed up at her, his face red. "Isn't it grand, Bella? Mr. Carstairs here persuaded the Captain to let me go. I'm gonna work for him too. So the pair of us can be together." His eyes were filled with innocent awe as he turned to the taller man.
    "Yes, Dougal, just grand." Isabella cast a quick glance at the Englishman. His even white teeth were showing in a mocking smile.
    "Don't you think you owe me a word of gratitude . . . what is it? Isabella, or shall I call you Bella?"
    "Seeing as I 'm your property I'd say you can call me what you like." Isabella folded her arms across her chest. All right, so he'd brought her friend for her, but she wasn't about to bow and scrape to him. Besides, there must be a selfish reason for his seemingly generous act; no Englishman would put himself out for another's benefit, certainly not for an Irish convict. But she muttered, "Thank you."
    Her new owner made a noncommittal sound in his throat.
    Tiger had met with a little trouble securing the Scot. The master of the 'Friendship' had put up a short fight, but in the end had lost the battle. The lad had earned his passage over, and was a free man. He only hoped his right-hand man Gillie appreciated a shepherd to help around the place. The boy looked to be well able to handle heavy work, and there was always plenty to do about the farm.
    "How old are you, Dougal?" he asked, deciding to ignore the little chit. She would come round or he would send her packing. Once she heard tales of the women 's factory at Parramatta she would treat him with more respect. It was Thelma who would decide in the long run whether she stayed or went. His housekeeper needed a helpmate, not a belligerent shirker.
    "Nineteen, sir." The lad touched his forelock and Tiger shook his head when the wench scowled at him, obviously thinking Dougal shouldn 't show subservience to an Englishman. "Same as Bella here." He gave the little tartar a fond smile. Good God, the boy was besotted.
    "Is that so? I wouldn 't have thought her to be older than twelve or thirteen by her actions. Perhaps she'll look more of a woman when she's got a bit more flesh on her bones." Tiger grinned at the scowl on her face, resisting an urge to test her plumpness, or lack of it, by pinching her bottom. He was enjoying himself. She brought out the devil in him. "Up you get, Dougal. Let's get home. Can you drive a rig, lad?"
    "Oh yes, sir, I can do anything I set me mind to." Dougal was grinning like a boy who 'd just been handed a gift as he climbed onto the front of the wagon, releasing the reins from where they'd been tied around the brake handle.
    "Get over the back, girl," Tiger ordered, climbing up beside Isabella. "You 'll be more comfortable back there instead of rattling away up the front here."