Destiny's Path (37 page)

When Leo touched her Kathleen stopped screaming and instead tried to persuade him to make love to her. It was horrifying, grotesque, making Conn feel sick with disgust.

Then another cart came up to them and as Leo covered her with a blanket, she started screaming for help again. The man driving it reined in to gape at them in shock. The woman beside him clasped his arm, looking afraid, and the man sitting in the back took up his rifle, holding it in a threatening way.

‘What’s happening?’ the driver asked. ‘Why is that woman screaming?’

It was hard to say the words out loud, but Conn knew he had to get used to it. ‘She’s gone mad. She’s my wife. We’re taking her to the new lunatic asylum in Fremantle because we can’t control her.’

‘I’m not mad,’ Kathleen called. ‘And I’m not his wife. They’ve kidnapped me. Help me! Please help me!’

‘She doesn’t sound mad,’ the man with the rifle said.

‘She’s very cunning.’

Kathleen managed to kick off the blanket covering her and the woman on the other cart gave a little scream and averted her eyes.

Just as Conn was desperately trying to think how to convince them he was telling the truth, Kathleen suddenly changed her tone and began offering herself to the newcomers in a voice hoarse from screaming.

Leo picked up the blanket and tied it round her with a rope this time.

‘I’m sorry,’ the driver said. ‘She is cunning, isn’t she? She nearly had us fooled. It must be hard for you.’

‘It is. Very hard.’ Conn unclenched his fists only with an effort. ‘I’m sorry you’ve been troubled.’

‘We’ll let people know you’re coming,’ the driver said. ‘It may make it easier for you if she starts claiming you’ve kidnapped her.’

‘Thank you.’

When they’d gone Conn covered his face with his hands for a moment or two, trying to pull himself together.

What he’d do if they refused to take her at the asylum, he couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Livia hadn’t realised how much she relied on Leo to do the hard work about the place, not to mention simply being there, cheerful and willing, until she had to cope without him.

‘He’s a nice fellow, Leo, isn’t he?’ Orla said, echoing her thoughts. ‘Always smiling and works hard without needing telling. I miss him.’

‘Yes. It’s going to be difficult to look after the horses without him.’

‘I don’t know much about caring for horses.’

‘I do.’

‘Then I’ll take over inside the house, if you like? I can cook and wash and clean for you now Mrs Kathleen’s not here to stop me.’

‘That’d be a big help.’

Orla’s eyes gleamed and she added, ‘Now that she’s gone, we can put her things in the big tent and I can give that bedroom a good bottoming. She wasn’t very clean in herself.’

‘You may as well sleep there now.’

Tears came into Orla’s eyes. ‘You’d let me sleep in a room of my own?’

‘Yes, of course. You have to sleep somewhere. It can’t be pleasant sleeping out in the tent, even though the nights aren’t cold at this time of year.’

‘Summer’s very hot here, isn’t it?’ Orla said. ‘I’ve never seen such sunshine. I like it though.’

‘I’ll go down to the stables, then.’ But Livia found the work harder than she’d expected. She fed the horses and mucked out the stables as best she could, wishing there were someone to talk to. Occasionally she stopped because she imagined she could hear Francis’s voice calling to her and that upset her.

Later in the afternoon she heard the crunching of leaves and the occasional cracking of a twig being stepped on and stopped work again. It took her a few moments to realise that the footsteps were real. Suddenly nervous, she peeped out of the stable to see who it was. To her relief it was Reece striding briskly along the bush path that joined the two properties. She called out to him and he turned towards the stables.

‘Livia! Are you all right? I thought you’d like to know that we got Kathleen to Galway House safely. Conn and Leo are taking her up to Fremantle.’ He took the shovel out of her hand. ‘Let me finish this for you. It’s not suitable work for a lady. Why don’t you hire the Bronsons’ middle lad for a few days to do this sort of job till Leo gets back?’

She hesitated, then nodded and handed over the shovel to Reece. Short as she was of money, today’s struggles had convinced her yet again that she wasn’t cut out to be a farmer’s wife – not that she needed convincing.

As she walked slowly up the slope, she thought ruefully that she’d come here to follow her husband’s dream, not her own. Her dreams had been of a home and family, but she’d never got with child – well, Francis had never been very ardent. And he’d been a child himself, in some ways, a wilful, playful man who had brought happiness into what had been a very dull life for her, but had given her no stability.

After a few years of marriage, knowing Francis might not have more than a year or two to live, she’d agreed to follow yet another of his dreams and come to Australia. But like all the others, this one had remained a mirage and never come true.

Ah, but he’d made such beautiful dreams! And she’d loved him dearly, for all his faults.

After his death, however, reality had set in and she knew she had to do something different with her life. But what? She felt so drained and weary after nursing him for so long, she couldn’t seem to reach any decisions about her future, let alone make definite plans. All she wanted was to rest and live quietly for a while.

She’d thought having Kathleen to stay would give her a breathing space and money to live on, but her lodger had only brought more anxiety and trouble.

She realised she’d stopped walking but didn’t move yet, continuing to look at the small wooden house. At least there was one good outcome from Kathleen’s visit. Reece and the other men had built her a second bedroom on the side of the little wooden house. The new planks of its exterior were still fresh and warmly coloured, unlike the silver-grey of the old, unpainted wood. Perhaps when she tried to sell the farm, that extra room would make it more attractive to families.

She’d have to sell it, of course she would, but she was terrified of going out into the world on her own. She hadn’t advertised the farm for sale yet in the newspaper, because she knew Reece and Cassandra wanted to buy it.

‘Are you all right, Mrs Southerham?’

Orla’s voice brought her out of her reverie. ‘What? Oh, yes, I’m fine. Just thinking about something. Let’s make a cup of tea, shall we? I’m sure we could both do with a sit-down.’

As her words sank in, Xanthe stared in horror at the maid who’d opened the door of Ardgullan House. Ronan was arranging to marry someone else? He couldn’t be! Had she come too late?

For a moment she almost turned and ran back to the carriage, then something inside her stiffened her spine. If he was thinking of marriage to someone else, he must be desperate. But she wasn’t going to let him sacrifice himself – or her – just for a house, even a huge one like this.

Without consciously planning what to do, she pushed past the maid and stood in the hall. ‘Where is he?’

‘Please, miss! I daren’t—’

But the woman’s eyes had gone instinctively towards a heavy carved door to the right. Xanthe moved in that direction, feeling she was on the right track when she heard a gasp from behind her.

She opened the door quietly and found herself facing a group of people who had solemn expressions, and were all so still they looked to be carved from stone.

Ronan was standing in front of the hearth where a fire was sputtering miserably. His face had a shuttered look and his whole demeanour was grim and joyless, so unlike his usual self. Whatever he was doing, she’d guessed right: he wasn’t happy about it. Xanthe knew him too well to mistake his mood. Her spirits lifted just a little. There was hope. She was sure there was hope.

The young woman sitting on a sofa also looked stiff and unhappy, her red hair tightly pinned back but tendrils escaping as if they had a will of her own. She was dressed in a huge crinoline, which meant she had to sit on the edge of the sofa so that it could spread out in front of her. Her hands were clenched tightly in her lap and she was staring at the floor in front of her skirt, not at Ronan. That puzzled Xanthe. Surely if he was the man she was to marry, she should be looking at him, smiling even? And why weren’t the two of them alone? Why were the other people there? It seemed a strange way to arrange a marriage to her.

The older woman sitting on the sofa beside the young one was sour-faced and watchful, as if ready to pounce on any mistake in behaviour or speech.

Two older men were sitting opposite them on another sofa, one richly dressed, presumably the father, the other dressed in more sombre garments. A lawyer? Was this a marriage or a business arrangement?

In the time it had taken her to assess the situation, Ronan had turned towards the door, saying, ‘Ah, here’s the tea now. Shall we—’ He broke off to stare at Xanthe, his expression changing to one of incredulity. For a moment he hesitated, then he took a step towards her, mouthing her name, his love showing on his face.

She didn’t wait for him to have second thoughts, but ran across the room and threw herself into his arms. Before he could speak, she said, ‘I won’t let you do it, Ronan! You’ll be miserable for the rest of your life, just like Conn.’

He pulled her close with an inarticulate murmur, cradling her closely, ignoring the muttering of the other occupants of the room. ‘Xanthe! I can’t believe it’s you.’ He dropped a light kiss on her cheek, saying with a shaky laugh, ‘I think the sun has just come out.’

Pushing her to arm’s length, he smoothed her hair back from her forehead. ‘How did you happen to come here at just this moment?’

‘I knew you needed me. I didn’t know why, but I just knew it, so I came as quickly as I could.’

‘Maguire!’ It was an angry roar that echoed round the room.

Ronan jerked as if he’d forgotten they weren’t alone and let go of her. They both turned towards the voice.

The richly clad older gentleman had stood up and was glaring at them. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, Maguire?’

‘Coming to my senses.’ He turned back to Xanthe. ‘Don’t go. I must sort this out before we do anything.’

She patted his cheek with one hand and went across to stand by the window, joy filling her heart. He did love her. That was all that mattered. Somehow they’d work everything else out.

Ronan went across first to the younger woman. ‘Miss Johnson, I owe you my deepest apologies, but it would be unfair to marry you when I love someone else.’

She looked up at him and said simply, ‘I love someone else too. But Papa wanted me to marry into the gentry so he wouldn’t let me marry Paul.’

‘Don’t marry for money. It won’t make you happy.’

She smiled, suddenly looking pretty. ‘You’re right.’

‘Georgina, hold your tongue!’ the older woman snapped.

‘I’ve held it for too long, let you both bully me and make me unhappy.’ She stood up, moving away from the sofa and shaking her skirt a little so that her crinoline spread out evenly around her. Then she looked at Ronan again. ‘I think if things were different I’d have liked you, Ronan Maguire.’ She turned to Xanthe. ‘I wish you happy, whoever you are. I can see how much he loves you.’

‘I wish you happy too.’

Georgina shook her head and her smile faded. ‘Father won’t let me marry Paul. He’s threatened to ruin him if I do. But from now on I shan’t let him force me into marriage with someone else. On that at least I can stand firm.’

‘Georgina, I said, hold your tongue!’

She turned to her father. ‘I’ve enough of your stubbornness in me, Father, now that I’ve seen a young woman with the courage to come to the man she loves. It’s Paul or no one for me.’

‘We’ll see about that.’ Her father turned to Ronan. ‘You’ll lose this house. I’ll make sure of that.’

‘But I won’t lose the woman I love. That’s much more important.’ He walked across to put one arm protectively round Xanthe’s shoulders.

She smiled at him. ‘Maybe we can manage to keep the house. You’d be surprised at how economically I can live.’

The lawyer came forward. ‘You’re making a serious mistake, Maguire.’

‘No, I’m not. I’ve seen what can happen in a forced marriage. I don’t know why I ever let you push me so far.’ His voice grew gentler. ‘Bear with me, Hatton. I intend to have a very good try at keeping my family estate. But whatever happens, I’ll keep the woman I love.’

‘Come, Georgina,’ the older woman said.

The father followed them, tossing over his shoulder again, ‘I’ll make sure you regret this, Maguire.’

‘Then you’ll make yourself and your daughter look like spiteful fools,’ Xanthe snapped. She didn’t intend to let him have all his own way, the bully!

He stopped to gape at her. ‘Young woman, mind your own business.’

‘Ronan is my business. Your conscience is yours.’

He looked at her as if he couldn’t believe how pertly she was answering him back, then grunted and turned away.

In silence Ronan walked with his visitors to the door, waited to see them drive away, then came back into the house.