Ghost Gum Valley (79 page)

Josepha St John stood a little apart from all of them, staring at Silas, her face a white mask of fury.

Marmaduke knew this was the moment he must sublimate his rage until the time he needed to let it rip.

As Silas de Rolland made a languid gesture to Josepha to enter the carriage, Marmaduke saw the hands of his enemy were finely shaped, elegant. He felt sickened to think these same hands had caressed and abused the child Isabel. That the mouth now curled in faint amusement was the mouth that had kissed the child Isabel and seduced her with adult passion and lies that had destroyed her innocence – and was now ready to corrupt Rose Alba.

Edwin hurried to Marmaduke's side ahead of Rhys Powell and Murray Robertson. Marmaduke wanted his family safe and to shield them from what was to come.

‘Queenie, take Isabel and the child upstairs. I leave them in your hands. They could be suffering from shock.'

If Isabel loses the babe I'll have Silas hanged, drawn and quartered and his head on a pike at the front gate.

With Federico at her heels Josepha moved towards him with intent. Marmaduke was not sure where her loyalties lay. Her luminous dark eyes searched his face, as if memorising it feature by feature. She said the words in a throaty stage whisper.

‘Do whatever you have to do, my darling. But handle yourself with care. They don't make men like you any more.'

Marmaduke held her eyes as he kissed her hand then beckoned to Cooper, who had turned his back on his master.

‘If you see Madame St John safely wherever she chooses to go – I'll give you a job. No questions asked.'

Cooper hesitated. ‘I believe you.'

Marmaduke pulled Silas from the carriage then helped the diva inside it with Federico and nodded when she gave the order, ‘To Sydney Town!'

Everyone had dispersed except for Edwin, Rhys and Murray. Marmaduke knew the moment had arrived.

‘Silas de Rolland, this day has been a long time coming. The man who lives to see the end of it is never going to forget it.'

The handsome face was the epitome of arrogance. But Marmaduke saw that the pupils of his eyes were strangely cloudy. There was a musty, spice-like smell about him that reminded him of an Eastern bazaar. Laudanum.

‘Silas eyed him with contempt. ‘You must be as insane as your criminal father if you think you can challenge a de Rolland. Who do you think you are?'

‘I'm the man who's going to kill you, mate.'

‘Afraid to face me in court, eh? Afraid the law would never convict me on the word of Colonial scum?'

Edwin stepped forwards, his voice cold with authority. ‘I'm the Gambles' barrister. I have enough evidence of the crimes you've
committed in this Colony to send you to Norfolk Island for the term of your natural – correction
un-
natural – life!'

Marmaduke knew the words were a bluff. Murray kept his pistol trained on Silas as Edwin drew Marmaduke aside.

‘We are all witnesses to what de Rolland did tonight. I beg you, Marmaduke, for once allow British law to deliver justice.'

Marmaduke was adamant. ‘Too many men of Quality get away with blue murder in this Colony. The crimes this bastard committed against Mendoza, Mingaletta – and
little girls
is only our word against his. If we claimed attempted abduction of a Rose Alba he'd say he was just taking his little
cousin
for a drive – no law against that. You know the mongrel would get off with a slap on the wrist!'

‘Let me shoot the bugger,' Garnet demanded. ‘I've done time before. I can survive.'

Silas de Rolland looked amused. ‘By all means try, Gamble. You're only fit for Bedlam anyway.'

Before Edwin could calm Garnet, Marmaduke saw Silas's smug expression and lost control of his pent-up rage.

‘Bugger the law! You're on my property. I make the rules here! Cop this!'

Marmaduke struck him forcibly across the mouth then delivered a backhander that drew blood.

‘I've publicly insulted you in front of three witnesses, including a barrister. I'm giving you three choices, de Rolland.

‘One. A voyage. A Greek sea captain who hates paedophiles as much as I do can dump you on a desert island for life. Two. If you're too much of a gentleman to fight me, I'll just have to shoot you down like a mad dog with rabies. Three. We can play this out on the duelling field. That gives us both an even chance to kill each other. It's your choice.'

Silas de Rolland shrugged. ‘Very well, pistols. I've nothing better to do this afternoon. But before I attend your funeral I'll give you a lesson in how a gentleman conducts himself in a duel. Spare me one of your raggle-taggle Colonial duels. Like the one you fought in vain defence of your mother's
dishonour.'

Marmaduke was thrown off guard but Garnet gave a bull-like roar as he hurled himself at Silas. It took all four of them to restrain him bodily.

‘Trust me, Father. I'll take care of this cur.' He turned to Silas. ‘You may have noble ancestors, de Rolland, but for all your pretensions you're the daggy end of the line. You're free to leave amuse yourself with laudanum. And make your Will. At ten tomorrow morning Rhys Powell will escort you to the place we'll meet.'

Marmaduke added, ‘Don't even think about bolting. If you're yellow enough to try, I'll hunt you down wherever you go. You'll be the laughing stock of the Colony.' He turned to Murray. ‘Get the man a horse,' he said and turned his back on Silas de Roland and walked away.

Inside the house Marmaduke had Edwin draw up a fresh Will that included his children and had it witnessed and signed.

Edwin gave a sigh of resignation. ‘You realise, Marmaduke, what will happen if you kill a second man in a duel, albeit under great provocation?'

‘Yeah, mate, I'll be socially ostracised. Never get invited to dine at Government House. What a crying shame that'd be, eh?'

They exchanged a grim smile. Both knew it was bravado.

Chapter 55

Isabel woke with fright, her body damp with sweat. The sound of kookaburras' laughter mocked the night terrors she had just escaped. The image was so vivid that she was still uncertain whether she had been dreaming or actually visited by the Other. The figure of a man wearing a long black hooded cloak had stood at the foot of her bed. It was the same face she had seen watching her that day on the bank of the river.
Klaus von Starbold.

Queenie woke up in the chair in which she had been guarding Isabel all night. When Isabel described her dream, she felt chilled by Queenie's calm acceptance.

‘Yes. Klaus
was
here last night. I heard his heels click together as he bowed to you. Don't worry, Isabel. He was a man of honour in life. His shade would not hurt you,' Queenie said firmly. ‘It isn't their way. Ghosts only return when they have unfinished business.'

‘Is that why Miranda comes back to you?'

Queenie sighed. ‘Perhaps I'm selfish. I don't
want
her to leave me.'

Isabel crossed to the open door and felt her throat constrict at the sight of the sleeping child. ‘Even after everything that happened to her yesterday she looks so peaceful.'

‘That child is most resilient. She was born to be happy.'

Isabel insisted on dressing, determined to go downstairs to find Marmaduke, but she made Queenie promise to remain at Rose Alba's side until the child woke.

The house appeared to be deserted but when Isabel saw Garnet stride out the front door to where Davey held the reins of a saddled horse, she hurried after him.

‘Where's Marmaduke? What's wrong, Garnet?

‘You must rest, m'dear. This is men's business. All will be well.'

Placing his boot in Davey's cupped hands, Garnet hoisted himself into the saddle and rode off at a gallop.

Isabel grabbed hold of Davey and demanded he tell her where the men had gone.

‘To the cricket ground, ma'am.'

Oh God, that means Marmaduke's going to fight a duel with Silas!

When Isabel halted the mare at the edge of the oval there was no sign of the duellists or their seconds. From the sunburnt grass around the cricket pitch little eddies of dust were caught by the breeze. The miniature grandstand was empty. There would be no spectators at this match – except for Garnet. He was standing in the shade of a RedGum, his hands flexing at his sides.

Cold with fear, Isabel rode up to him.

‘I'm not leaving,' she said defensively. ‘Garnet! We must stop this!'

‘It's already too late,' he said quietly.

Dear God I'll promise you anything if you'll just keep Marmaduke alive! Silas tried to destroy Rose Alba's innocence as he did mine. But better he should go free than risk Marmaduke's life. What price revenge if Marmaduke dies?

Isabel screamed silently with frustration when she saw all five men ride up, tethering their horses at the far end of the oval in the shade of giant eucalypts.

They sauntered on to the field almost as if they were preparing for a game of cricket. Marmaduke bent his head to listen to Edwin's directions. He was dressed in a plain white shirt open at the throat and moleskin trousers and bare-headed, his hair tied back against the breeze. He looked serious and strained as if he had slept little that night.

Isabel kept saying his name like a prayer, hoping God was listening.

She forced herself to look at Silas. Flanked by Murray Robertson and Rhys Powell, he looked as nonchalant as if a duel were an everyday occurrence. He was dressed in an immaculate morning suit and casually draped his jacket across a bench, balancing his top hat beside them.

Isabel saw his hand linger on the gold knob of the ebony cane, the source of his laudanum.

The four men assembled around Edwin to discuss details of the duel and check the pistols to everyone's satisfaction.

Isabel wanted to charge her horse into the middle of the pitch
and force them to put an end to the manly posturing that could end in tragedy just as had happened nine years earlier on this same ground. But she knew that any distraction could be dangerous to Marmaduke's concentration.

Refusing to obey Garnet by leaving, she dismounted and only agreed to conceal herself from sight in the bush.

Seen from this distance Silas looked as handsome as her first childhood memory of him, ‘the brave soldier returned from the wars'. Now the wind ruffled his hair, the same colour as hers. Her de Rolland ‘double cousin' appeared so youthful she found it difficult to accept that he was close in age to Garnet.

The illusion of gallantry was shattered by Silas's outburst of hostility.

‘For God's sake, Bentleigh, what do you think you're playing at? Do hurry along. I've better things to do than give you lessons...No no, that's not how it's done! Don't you Colonials even know how to conduct a proper duel...? Never heard of the Code Duello?'

Edwin's reply was quiet but in no way intimidated. ‘If you're such a stickler for the duelling code, de Rolland, why did you fail to appoint your own second?'

‘What?' Silas gave a contemptuous laugh. ‘And allow another gentleman to witness this farce? A duel must only be fought between men of equal rank.' He flicked his wrist in Marmaduke's direction. ‘There's no man more inferior than a convict's spawn.'

Isabel was outraged. She felt the babe kicking in her womb in empathy.

I'm
cursed in being your equal, Silas! If only I were a man I'd kill you.

Her eyes hungrily followed Marmaduke's every movement, the line of his head, his limbs, the gestures of his fine hands. This man was the centre of her world. He had taught her how to love and created within her body the gift of life. Sunlight highlighted the coil of long dark hair hanging down his back as he walked away from her. He was so virile, so wonderfully alive. Yet seconds from now he could be dead. His name was her prayer.

Marmaduke and Silas stood back to back. She held her breath as they began the measured walk away from each other.

Time was stretched to breaking point as Edwin counted the twenty paces...eighteen, nineteen...

Then it happened. Silas whirled around, aimed his pistol at Marmaduke's back – and fired. Marmaduke staggered. Voices shouted in outrage. Isabel tried to run to him, but Garnet, white in the face, held her back.

‘It's not over, lass!'

Edwin and Rhys ran to Marmaduke's side as he rose unsteadily to his feet. His right arm had been hit. Blood stained his sleeve. He tried to steady his pistol with both hands.

Garnet held Isabel against his chest but his eyes never left his son's face and his voice was unnaturally calm.

‘Marmaduke has the right to return fire.' He added under his breath, ‘Shoot him down like a dog, son!'

Silas stood transfixed, his face contorted with an expression Isabel had never seen before – a look of sheer terror.