Ghost Gum Valley (75 page)

Read Ghost Gum Valley Online

Authors: Johanna Nicholls

BOOK: Ghost Gum Valley
11.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘My prized Princess Alexandrina Hotel is lost. I'm no threat to Samuel Terry now. I'm not stone, motherless broke but all I've got left is Bloodwood Hall and even this place has a mortgage over it.'

Isabel wanted to comfort him but she was afraid to make a sudden move. She felt sure he would never hurt her but was equally certain suicide was in his mind.

She smiled and gave a shrug of acceptance. ‘So what? You faced far greater odds when you arrived in the Colony. You'll re-build your empire with Marmaduke by your side – and me too. And a child to begin the Gamble dynasty. Isn't that worth living for?'

It was then that Isabel felt her heart would break. Garnet was staring past her at the door, his mouth half open, unaware that tears were rolling down his cheeks.

‘You came back to me!' he said softly.

Isabel shivered, too scared to turn and face Miranda's ghost. Until a voice said softly, ‘Did you ever doubt I would, Garnet?'

Marmaduke was standing in the doorway. She had no idea how long he had witnessed the scene. She was shocked by his transformation, his clothing torn and filthy, his shirt stained with blood, his eyes and mouth bruised and swollen.

She jumped to her feet without thinking. ‘My God, what happened to you?'

‘Nothing I couldn't handle,' Marmaduke said casually. ‘Some runaway lout from Penkivil Park tried to best me. I sent him packing.'

Isabel watched in admiration the way he swaggered across the room. She knew every inch of his body so intimately she was aware that despite his cavalier attitude he was in acute pain. He knelt on one knee and put his arm around Garnet's shoulders.

‘Now what's all this crap about losing the Gamble empire? Isn't that what Australia's all about? We make a fortune, lose a fortune, pick ourselves up and start again. You've already proved The System can't keep a Gamble down. Now there's
two
of us. You and I are gunna take on the whole Colony together, Garnet.'

Isabel saw what Garnet had failed to notice while he hung on his son's words. Marmaduke had surreptitiously removed the pistol and placed it out of sight. Gently he drew Garnet to his feet, slung his
arm around his shoulder and steered him to the door, then nodded for Isabel to dispose of the pistol.

Her eyes filled with tears of admiration. She followed behind them as Marmaduke walked the broken man down the gallery towards his chambers, the cockatoo flying haphazardly to guide them.

Amaru flew up to perch on the frame of Miranda's portrait chanting, ‘Love is blind, love is blind!'

Father and son paused in front of the portrait. Marmaduke looked thoughtful.

‘Mother looks proud of you. You finally succeeded in making a man of me, Father.'

Garnet flashed Marmaduke a suspicious look. ‘Are you sick or something? That's the first time ever – you called me Father.'

‘Behave yourself or it might be the last,' Marmaduke said gently. ‘Now, let's get you tucked up in bed. We've got a heap of plans to discuss tomorrow. Rose Alba is coming to live with us. And the new babe is on its way. Isabel and I plan on raising a heap of kids. So I want your advice about the blueprint for Mingaletta. I reckon I've gone off on the wrong track. It might be better to build it
your
way – with a double storey. What do you reckon, Father?'

‘I
told
you my plan was far better...!'

Isabel watched the two men in her life arguing amiably as Marmaduke steered Garnet inside the bedroom and closed the door behind them. Isabel was left holding the candle and the duelling pistol, her face wet with tears of happiness.

Chapter 53

That autumn had the lingering feeling of an endless summer. Marmaduke rode Dangar towards Bloodwood village to await the arrival of the Gamble carriage from Sydney Town.

Edwin would be travelling with Rose Alba and Marmaduke hoped his friend was coming armed with her adoption papers. As far as Marmaduke knew Silas was still not aware of the existence of the child Isabel had hidden from him since her birth so he would be unlikely to lay claim to her. But Marmaduke was taking no chances. Above all Isabel must be kept calm during the remaining weeks before the birth.

The possibility of the travellers' encounter with bushrangers worried Marmaduke less than the escalation of Silas's violent acts of subterfuge. Since the destruction of Mingaletta all had been quiet until Marmaduke discovered the pressed white roses that had become his weekly ritual. Marmaduke knew this was Silas's unspoken message to Isabel that he would never cease his stalking, never relinquish the power he had held over her mind since she was a child.

En route to Bloodwood village Marmaduke was determined to put the first stage of his plan into action.

I refuse to stand by and have my girl living in fear of a coward who hasn't got the guts to show his hand.
Silas de Rolland is going to come face to face with me. I'm gunna put an end to his long reign of terror one way or another.

He turned off the road that led to Bloodwood village and rode through the gates of Penkivil Park. At the sight of the mansion at the end of the avenue of Dutch elm trees he was reminded of the dramatic irony of this moment – the contrast between past and present.

Miranda Gamble, the socially acceptable daughter of Colonel McAlpine, had attended Captain Dench's balls and assemblies in this grand house accompanied by Garnet, her socially tolerated husband. As a boy Marmaduke had attended the Dench son's birthday party. But following his mother's death and Elise's installation as mistress of Bloodwood Hall, Garnet's name had been eliminated from the
captain's invitation list. The scandal of Marmaduke's duel and the death of his tutor von Starbold (rumoured in the village to be a German aristocrat) had put the seal on the Gambles being socially ostracised throughout the locality.

Marmaduke was grimly amused to think that it had taken Captain Dench's departure for India with his battalion and the consequent leasing of his estate to Silas de Rolland (known to be an English aristocrat), for Marmaduke to be able to return to Penkivil Park albeit as an unwelcome guest.

The Penkivil Park mansion was not architecturally as ostentatious as Bloodwood Hall but grand enough in the English Georgian tradition to be a showpiece in the county. Silas de Rolland had wasted no time in putting his own stamp on the estate and was already known for the lavish hospitality of his balls, banquets, assemblies and the kangaroo hunts that replaced traditional English fox hunts.

The star performer of this evening's assembly of the Quality would be Josepha St John.

At the front portico finely dressed gentlemen and their ladies were in the process of alighting from their carriages and being ushered inside by servants in silver-trimmed livery. It was known that de Rolland had refused to allow assigned men and women under his roof. All in his service were bona fide English servants who came free – and knew their place.

In the entrance hall Marmaduke placed his card on the silver salver to ensure Silas knew he had called. Then he handed his letter to the tall, cadaverous English butler.

‘I'm a friend of Madame St John's. This letter's dead urgent. I'm sure the lady will appreciate its safe delivery.'

With not so much as a flicker of an eyelid at the marked contrast between the elegantly dressed guests and Marmaduke's long hair, moleskin trousers and riding boots, the butler inclined his head and politely assured him of the letter's immediate delivery.

No doubt about Pommie butlers. Their manners run rings around the jumped-up gentry in this colony.

On the point of making his exit Marmaduke's step faltered at the sight of a lady standing apart from the crowd. She wore a low-cut black satin gown, a shawl of black ostrich feathers and the moment
she caught his eye she assumed a haughty demeanour. Elise was doing her damnedest to look like a lady.

Marmaduke was divided between ignoring her and bowing in her direction, but decided Elise would be appalled to have people notice she was acquainted with a disreputable Currency Lad. So he enjoyed her shocked expression when he openly gave her a thumbs-up sign of approval. Just then Garnet's friend Magistrate Summerhayes crossed to Elise and offered her his arm to escort her to the assembly room. The flirtatious way she lowered her eyes and clung to Summerhayes's arm gave Marmaduke a sense of grim satisfaction.

Up to her old tricks again. Thank God she's hooked another fish. That's one problem less for Garnet to worry about.

As Marmaduke turned to take his leave he was alerted by the sound of a man's voice behind him. Who could forget the arrogant accent that had ordered Cooper the pugilist to burn his house down?

Marmaduke turned around in the hope of confronting Silas de Rolland but the milling guests concealed him. Marmaduke sauntered down the steps and remounted his horse.

That bastard's as slippery as a Parramatta eel. He's damaged every part of my life yet I still haven't set eyes on the mongrel.

Marmaduke took the horse at a gallop in the direction of Bloodwood village. A few hundred yards before the bridge at Scavengers Creek he caught sight of the Gamble carriage on the opposite bank. Beside the wooden pylons of the bridge that spanned the creek, Thomas stood in front of the carriage, waving his arms as if in warning.

Thomas looks agitated. Shit! The bridge has gone!

Scavengers Creek was a scene of carnage. A giant Bloodwood eucalypt had fallen, smashing the narrow single-carriage bridge into a heap of kindling.

‘G'day, Thomas,' Marmaduke called out against the noise of the rushing waters.

Thomas pulled off his tricorn hat and slapped it against his thigh in frustration.

‘So what the bloody hell do I do with your guests? Mr Bentleigh checked the Garnet and Rose, but that bloodhouse ain't fit for a little kiddie.'

Edwin emerged from the carriage carrying the sleeping child.
Peering down at the rapid current he looked extremely anxious. Rural life was not Edwin's forte.

‘Any bright ideas, Marmaduke? I'm here to deliver this child and sort out your father's
problems
, but I absolutely must be back in court on Monday – or some inept fool will get my client hanged!'

‘Hold your horses, mate. I'll get you across, just you watch.'

Shit! I hope that sounded convincing. What the hell do I do now?'

Marmaduke stripped off down to his trousers, removed his boots and tied them together with the cord that he used to tie back his hair. Boots in hand he backed away from the creek and then like a demon bowler at a cricket match made a flying run towards the creek. Pulling up inches from the edge, he swung his arm in an over-arm throw that sent his boots hurling across the creek to be fielded by Thomas.

‘Jolly good show!' Edwin shouted in admiration. ‘I've always said you'd be good enough to play for the England team at Lords.'

‘Over my dead body,' said Marmaduke, ‘I'd only bowl
against
you Pommies, mate.'

Marmaduke evaluated the potential force of the creek, aware of the danger of rocks and the unknown degree of submerged debris. He decided he needed a good head start to be able to swim against the current. So he walked Dangar upstream about thirty yards then slipped into the water, drew the horse in and swam beside him, forced by the strong current downstream, so that they finally emerged on the opposite bank almost level with the carriage.

‘Nice day for a swim, Thomas,' he said.

Marmaduke went straight to Rose Alba, who was staring at him and the horse wide-eyed in awe.

Marmaduke felt his heart turn over again at the sight of her sweet, vulnerable little face – so like a miniature Isabel it was uncanny.

He said the words gently. ‘Remember me, Rose Alba? I'm your Uncle Marmaduke.'

She nodded. ‘You told me the story of the little black boy and his friend the kangaroo.'

‘Plenty more stories where that came from, sweetheart.'

He took her hand and showed her how Dangar liked to have his nose patted. Standing back, watching the little girl learn to trust the
horse before they made the crossing together, he had a quiet exchange with Edwin.

‘I take it you have all the legal stuff in hand? I don't want the traps to pick me up on a charge of kidnapping Rose Alba. And I can't guarantee Silas won't wake up to her real identity. The crazy bastard's obsessed with his so-called royal Plantagenet bloodline. So I want the law on my side – for once.'

‘The adoption papers are signed, sealed and delivered by Isabel's aunt. She was adamant the child must be reunited with Isabel now but the lady herself is not yet fit to travel. Don't worry. Maeve said to assure you she is taking good care of Elisabeth Ogden at our Wool-loomooloo house.' Edwin looked discomfited. ‘You understand why your family could no longer stay in the Gamble family suite at the Princess Alexandrina Hotel?'

‘The Bank of New South Wales foreclosed on it. Yeah, I heard. Garnet got done like a dinner – thanks to Silas de Rolland's
recommendations
to his board.'

Edwin apologised profusely that Garnet had mortgaged his properties against his advice and without his knowledge.

‘Not your fault, mate. But is Bloodwood Hall safe? It would kill Garnet if he lost that. He built the place to impress Mother.'

‘Safe for the time being. And Mingaletta's deeds are now in your hands so at least you and Isabel will have a roof over your heads.'

Marmaduke gave a forced laugh. ‘Burnt to the ground, mate. Thanks again to Silas de Rolland. But don't worry, I've just delivered a letter to Penkivil Park that's likely to force a confrontation.'

Edwin closed his eyes. ‘Oh God, not another duel?'

‘I would if I could, mate, but there's no way that so-called gentleman would lower himself to accept a challenge from
me
. In his eyes I'm not only his social inferior. I'm the son of the convict transported on Silas's crooked evidence. I'm beyond the pale, mate.'

Other books

The Haunting of Torre Abbey by Carole Elizabeth Buggé
Bridgehead by David Drake
Encounters by Felkel, Stewart
Button Holed by Kylie Logan
Jesus Saves by Darcey Steinke
The Rock Season by R.L. Merrill
Talking to the Dead by Harry Bingham
Staying Dirty by Cheryl McIntyre