Free The Gallant by William Stuart Long Page A

Warriors from the Punjab now served in the East India Company’s armies. There were strong garrisons of British troops throughout all three presidencies, and with them native regiments, both Moslem and Hindu, of long and proven loyalty, devoted to the British officers who commanded them.
    “They fought with us in the Sutlej and Punjab campaigns, Jenny,” her husband had said. “They fought and died with us, just as so many did in Clive’s day. And whilst some of the native princes may not like yielding up their autocratic powers, they have been well compensated. And their people have every reason to be grateful, because they are spared from tyranny and misrule and now enjoy the Company’s protection.”
    William must know, Jenny told herself. All his adult life, from the age of sixteen, had been spent in India, in the Company’s service. His opinion was based on firsthand experience, and he was nobody’s fool. Her own baseless, panic fears had conjured up the nightmare, and … despite the similar dream she had had two years ago, about the Light Cavalry Brigade’s charge and
    William’s part in it-a dream that had proved so unaccountably accurate-she had never supposed that she possessed the gift of … what was it called?
    Second sight. Indeed, until tonight, she had had no other similar dreams or visions of the future, and the one she had just endured was … merciful heaven, it was too hideous, too farfetched to be worthy of serious consideration, least of all
    William’s.
    For all this reasoning, during the days that followed, Jenny was tempted to tell William of the dream; but each time she was on the point of doing so, she uneasily decided against it, fearing that he might misunderstand and attribute it to her reluctance to go with him to India. She did not suffer the nightmare again, and by the time they took leave of the Osbornes and returned to
    Sydney, the memory of it had faded, at least to the extent that she was able to dismiss it as a figment of her imagination.
    Benjamin Doakes and his wife and family arrived at Marshall Mount the day before her and William’s departure, and Jenny enjoyed the celebrations that marked their arrival and their installation in the refurbished Pumpkin Cottage, with which, clearly, they were delighted.
    They had made a very fast passage, the onetime shipping clerk announced with pride, on board the White Star clipper ship
    Spartan,
    reaching Sydney in eighty-five days.
    “She is a beautiful vessel, ma’am,” he told Jenny. “Built in Aberdeen by the Hood yard, with no expense spared. You’ll see her when you go back to Sydney. And no doubt you’ll meet the titled lady and gentleman from Ireland-Lady Kitty Cadogan and her brother, the Honorable Patrick, from Castle Kilclare in County Wexford, who took passage with us from Liverpool. A handsomer, livelier pair it’s never been my good fortune to meet, ma’am … and not a bit of swagger to either of them. I’m sure the society folk in Sydney will be eager to make them welcome.”
    The names of the two young Irish aristocrats who had incurred Benjamin Doakes’s admiration meant nothing to either William or herself, Jenny reflected, but-since titled immigrants were rare in colonial circles-she did not doubt that Sydney society would indeed be eager to make them welcome, particularly if, in addition to being titled, they were also wealthy and socially inclined.
    The long ride back to Sydney was less fatiguing than the outward journey had been, partly because William-as if he, too, were regretting their imminent departure from their homeland-set a more leisurely pace, savoring the beauty of the countryside and the miles of wide, untamed bush through which their way led them.
    Having spent much of her time at Marshall Mount on horseback, Jenny found that her initial saddle soreness had ceased to trouble her, but …
    She sighed. Apart from infrequent visits to the Tempests’ property near Bathurst, she had become a