Free The Horse Thief by Tea Cooper

twinkling as she slipped a slice of carrot between her lips. Taking a sip of water Jim searched for something else to say. In future he’d take his meals in the kitchen with Peggy, or in his own quarters, where words meant what they said. This language of gestures and raised eyebrows was more difficult than the speech of the natives. Right at this moment he’d rather be breaking a fickle filly to the saddle than attempting to entertain the women who sat across the table from him. These squattocracy games were way out of his league.
    â€˜Miss Violet will be living at Helligen from now on.’ Peggy threw him a lifeline. He owed her.
    Giving it one last try, he said, ‘I’m sure you’re delighted.’
    The clatter of silverware hitting fine bone china resounded through the room. ‘No! I am not. I have been dragged to the back of beyond by a conspiracy between my father and my sister. They are determined to prevent me from finding a husband.’
    At a loss for words Jim cut a piece of chicken and speared it with his fork.
    â€˜I might as well be locked up in St Vincent’s asylum, or better still Bedlam.’
    â€˜That is enough.’ India pushed up from the table. ‘I will not countenance this appalling behaviour.’
    Violet’s eyes narrowed and she stumbled to her feet. The air crackled as they glared at each other, their hands flat on the damask tablecloth, their shoulders tensed and their faces flushed.
    â€˜Girls!’ Peggy’s voice cut through the charged atmosphere.
    Violet straightened up and flung back her chair. ‘If it hadn’t been for you and your misbegotten plans we would both be living in Sydney enjoying a far happier life, instead of rattling around in this mausoleum dying of boredom.’ She ran from the room, slamming the door behind her.
    Jim moved around the table and with exaggerated care lifted the upturned chair from the carpet. The cloying scent of Violet’s perfume hovered in the air at odds with the homely aroma of roast chicken.
    India sank back into her seat, eyes closed. One elbow rested on the table supporting her chin and her fork dangled loosely from the fingers of her left hand.
    Unperturbed Peggy covered a piece of chicken with gravy and popped it into her mouth.
    â€˜I apologise. I didn’t mean to cause such an upset,’ Jim offered. The fraught silence was almost worse than Violet’s outburst.
    India opened her eyes and with great care placed her fork onto her plate. ‘Please don’t apologise, Jim. It’s nothing of your making.’
    â€˜Nothing a good spanking wouldn’t cure.’ Peggy munched her chicken. ‘Coming back from Sydney full of all those highfalutin ideas of her own importance.’
    â€˜Peggy, it’s not Violet’s fault.’
    India’s wan smile twisted his gut.
    â€˜I shouldn’t have insisted she came back to Helligen. You know how difficult she finds it here.’
    â€˜That’s all well and good but who’s going to look after her in Sydney? If she wants to live there then she’d better find herself a husband.’
    Jim chased the remains of his food around the plate. The small successes of the day and the delight of spending time with India had turned cold and greasy like the chicken on his plate.
    â€˜You’ve hardly eaten anything. Big strapping bloke like you needs his food.’ Peggy pushed the platter of meat towards him.
    His stomach roiled. The blatant aggression in Violet’s display had dissolved his hunger pangs faster than the biggest meal. ‘No, thank you, Peggy.’ He concentrated on the remaining food on his plate; the congealed gravy and the cold vegetables stared back at him. Following India’s lead he placed his knife and fork together on the plate and wiped his mouth on his napkin.
    â€˜Perhaps I can tempt you both with a little bread and butter pudding.’ Not waiting for an answer Peggy