Opening the door timidly, she looked around at the club lounge. It was handsomely furnished with ivory walls, deep red covers on the furniture and matching curtains. It looked luxurious, something that Phyllis Baxter had never experienced. She couldn't quite believe she was here. Not so long ago, British convicts had been thrown on a boat to be sent here but she was arriving of her own free will. She wasn't sure she could get used to it but she was willing to try. She felt hopeful for her future and sighed encouragingly at the empty room.


Almost empty room. Sitting in her comfy chair, Mac felt the rustle of arrival but the person didn't speak. She ignored her. She wanted to read in silence with her feet up but a happy exhalation broke her concentration. She flickered her eyelashes in irritation. It was a silly habit that made her feel excessively feminine but she couldn't help it. There was still no response but she knew that the woman was still there. Peering out from around the chair arm, she fixed the intruder with a snakelike stare.