Ironbark (51 page)

Both of them stood stock-still until Jenny resumed her role as Contessa.

‘Good of you to come, Jakey. I wondered if you ever received my invitation.'

His tone was cool. ‘Helps to enclose your address. Took me time to track you down. How
was
New Zealand?'

Jenny laughed like a little girl. ‘How naughty of me to forget, but I'm glad to be home. Those New Zealanders are too dour and tight with their money for my taste – they don't know how to enjoy the finer things of life.' She gestured for him to be seated.

Jake's choice lay between fancy gilded chairs that looked like the thrones in a child's book of fairytales. He settled on one and mastered
the cramped space by folding one leg so his boot rested on his other knee.

‘I'd be more comfortable sitting on a horse,' he said. ‘No insult intended.'

Jenny laughed in delight. ‘None taken. You haven't changed, Jakey.'

‘Oh yes I have, Jenny!' he assured her. ‘So you've gone back to your natural hair colour.' He made no attempt to conceal his sarcasm. ‘Decided not to hide from me anymore?'

Jenny blushed and Jake felt a jab to his heart. Even knowing everything she had done to him, she could still play the innocent and almost get away with it. He was determined to keep the upper hand.

‘If Pearl is taking a nap or something, I'll wait as long as it takes!'

Before Jenny had time to respond, a maidservant timidly made her way to her side. She was dark-eyed and swarthy. Her face was heavily pock-pitted and she was no longer young, but Jake could see she must have been pretty once.

At a nod from Jenny she placed a tray on a silly little table. Champagne in a silver ice bucket and two glasses left no room for a fly to walk.

Jenny gave the woman a dismissive wave. ‘Take the evening off, Emilia.'

The maid hesitated. ‘
Scusi
, Contessa, but is Saunders night off.' Jenny's tone was sharp. ‘Now.
I insist.
'

‘The contessa is most kind.' The door closed behind her unwilling exit.

Jenny's face resumed its teasing expression. ‘The conte, Franco, was called away on urgent business to Williams Town. I don't expect him back before Friday. So I'm here all alone.' She watched Jake intently. ‘You seem disappointed to have missed him.'

‘I've waited a long time for that pleasure. It can keep a bit longer,' he said evenly. ‘Pearl is all that interests me. It's been years, maybe she won't even recognise me.'

‘You always were a devoted father.' Jenny's smile was more wistful
than seductive. ‘I want to explain everything. Will you join me in a glass of French champagne?'

‘French, eh? To celebrate Bastille Day?' he asked wryly.

‘
Non.
I do not celebrate aristocrats losing their heads to
Madame La Guillotine
. Let's drink to the reunion of old friends.'

‘Friends? Right. For Pearl's sake –
if
we can come to an agreement about my role in Pearl's life. I reckon that would be better for her than us going to court.'

Jake downed his champagne with the same speed he'd sink an Albion Ale on a hot day.
What the hell is she playing at?
He took the lead.

‘Right, so you've impressed me with your society stuff. How about we stop beating around the bush. When do I see Pearl?'

Jenny hesitated. ‘Pearl doesn't live here.'

‘Why not for God's sake? You've got enough room here to house a dozen little kids.'

‘Franco is restless by nature, easily bored. No house is fine enough compared to his father's palazzo in Venice. We're always moving, always travelling. That's no life for a small child.'

Jake barely controlled his anger. ‘I get the picture. Pearl is shoved out of sight while you two gallivant around in the lap of luxury.'

‘Franco is giving her a fine education,' she added sweetly, ‘that
we
never could.'

The barb struck home.
She means it's my fault.
‘So where the hell is she?'

‘Just waiting to see you.' Jenny gracefully crossed the room to seat herself at a small desk. She quickly penned a letter. In the act of offering him the envelope her cool fingers pressed his hand for a moment longer than was necessary. The letter carried the remembered perfume of her body. It was addressed to the sister of a convent in a remote village far west of Ironbark.

Jenny said airily, ‘This is your
carte
of introduction, unsealed for you to read. Forgive me if I don't shock the sisters by revealing the exact
details of our little
ménage
. Pearl wants to meet her real father. This gives you my consent to visit her whenever you wish.'

Jenny's swift capitulation took him by surprise. The Yankee's report was in his breast pocket ready to be enforced if Jenny blocked him, but here she was giving him exactly what he wanted. It was almost too easy. He reminded himself to be on guard against her tricks.

Jenny's eyes held him with a look of appealing frankness. ‘Is there anything else you want, Jakey? If only I could make it all up to you for the silly dance I led you.'

He kept his anger internalised. ‘
Silly dance' she calls it. She cut out my heart and my balls. And it took me years to feel like a man again. Some bloody dance!

‘Forget it.' His tone was neutral. ‘This address is all I want. I'd best make tracks. You sure stashed her away at the back of beyond.'

Jenny leaned forward as if to detain him. ‘You are welcome to stay here the night, Jakey. We have seven guest bedrooms – and mine. You could choose any one you want.'

For a moment Jake wasn't sure if he had mistaken her invitation, but when she blushed at his lack of response, he knew.
Does she want to prove she can still make me sit up and beg?

He smiled politely. ‘And just what would the count think of your hospitality?'

Jenny shrugged. ‘Franco is nothing if not generous. He pays Pearl's expenses and keeps Mother in comfort. He gives me
everything
I want, but I'm totally dependent on him. He says a goddess never carries money.' Her nervous, endearing laugh cut Jake to the heart.

Suddenly all Jenny's pretence melted away. ‘I confess I haven't been entirely honest with you, Jakey. I know I don't deserve your help but I'm throwing myself on your mercy.'

He tensed, alert to manipulation.
‘And?'

‘The colony is said to be sinking into a Depression. They say more banks will fold—'

‘No need to spell it out, Jenny. How much money do you need to tide you over?'

Jenny led him by the hand to a dimly lit room. Jake could not fail to notice the way her robe clung to her body, accentuating every feline movement. She gestured to a table piled with bills and legal-looking documents bound with red sealing wax.

‘You see the mess we're in? Franco's lost everything. Even the ship he named after me, the
Contessa Giovanna
.'

Jake kept a poker face as he listened to her melodramatic version of the facts of the fraud he had already learned from Rogers.

‘If things are that tough, how come you're both slumming it here in the Palazzo?'

‘Loaned to us by a friend who's doing
La Grande Tour
.' She added helpfully, ‘Europe.'

‘I didn't think you meant Van Diemen's Land.'

Jenny looked like a lost child as she explained that Franco was facing gaol for fraud. ‘He's innocent of course, but barristers cost money. Jakey, you're my only hope. I'll be on the streets unless you—'

‘What about Pearl? I'm ready to take full responsibility for her.'

She sank down onto a French Empire chaise longue and placed her hand over her heart. ‘And what about me, Jakey? Don't you feel anything for me? The truth is the moment I saw you again in that prize fight, so strong, so handsome, I knew I'd made a ghastly mistake leaving you!'

Right at that moment Jenny had never looked more helpless – and beautiful. Jake tried to keep his tone light, in denial of how much he had longed to hear her say those words.

‘Your Franco's given you the high life I could never afford. Best stick with him, eh? Blokes like him always bounce back again.'

Jenny drew closer. ‘It's all over with Franco. I just want to keep him out of prison so he can return to Venice.
Without me.
Then I'll be free of him, my darling!'

Jenny was in his arms as naturally as if she had never left him. It was only then Jake realised that the dimly lit room contained a four-poster bed. Jenny led him to it and drew him down on her. She guided his hands inside her robe. Her mouth made hungry demands on his. Nothing had changed. Jake still wanted her so badly his body ached.

When she begged him to make love to her, Jake withdrew from his wallet his latest promissory note and tossed it on the bed.

This was his long-awaited moment. He could buy Jenny as his ‘wife for the night', just like any other whore, then leave her in the morning to claim his little princess.

‘This is all the money I've got until I win another fight. You're welcome to it.'

When Jenny read the value of the promissory note Jake saw a look of pleasure he had never been able to arouse during their marriage. Despite himself Jake's throat constricted when her flaxen hair tumbled in irresistible disarray and her eyes filled with tears.

‘What a generous man you are. Can you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?' She rubbed her face into his thigh. ‘Oh Jakey, you can make me happy now, I know you can!'

It was an uncanny insight into his long-burning quest for revenge. Could he resist her in the end?
There's only one way to find out. If I can walk away from her after tonight I'll be free of her. Forever. As Gem Smith said, ‘Free of her lips, free of her hips.'

He kissed Jenny's face and body with random passion that proved what Lily Pompadour said about that bloke Casanova. Four-fifths of a man's pleasure can come from
giving
pleasure.

Jenny's eyes widened. ‘My God, Jakey, you are a very different lover!'

She whimpered in ardent response to his every caress. Jake kept his head and took control of her. This was his revenge. Her pleading directions, her begging him not to stop, his making her wait – all tasted incredibly sweet. He knew his ultimate performance would be
technically flawless. Yet somehow he could not feel the excitement he craved.

Her eyes narrowed like a cat as she emptied a phial into a glass of wine and drank from it.

‘A gift from Venus the goddess of love. You can't imagine how it heightens our pleasure.'

Jake took the glass from her. ‘You don't need that stuff, Jenny. I'm going to give you more god-damned pleasure than you ever knew existed.'

Her gown slipped away like melting snow as she beckoned him. With one hand she swept her hair to one side – the same seductive gesture Keziah had made that night in the barn when she danced to Romani music. But there was a difference. Keziah's gesture was joyous like a spontaneous child. Jenny just looked like a seasoned ‘wife for the night'.

At the moment she began to arch in ecstasy, Jake was aware that the choice was his. He could so easily enjoy Jenny one last time. She
was
his wife and he figured he had earned that right, but unbidden came the vivid memory of a girl with wild black hair saying,
‘Jake, before it's too late. Please make love to me.
Now.'

There was only one woman in the world he wanted.
Keziah.
He suddenly saw Jenny as she really was. He felt nothing but the emotion he had steeled himself against.
Pity.
Jenny was a weak little creature, desperate enough to be a rich man's plaything. Jake wasn't sure if he felt more like the victor or the vanquished, but he chose a gallant lie.

‘Forgive me, Jenny. You're incredibly beautiful but I just can't go through with this. I'm sorry to be blunt. I only want my daughter. I don't want you anymore.'

Jenny gasped at the truth of Jake's words. Her eyes darted to a wall mask of Venus. The light from the oil lamp cast strange shadows across its gilt face. Jewelled cat's eyes gleamed in the sockets.

Jenny seemed transformed, like a cat about to spring. ‘You haven't woken up to my secret, have you, Jakey? I really
am
a goddess.'

Jake tried to marshal his thoughts, conscious of the strange expression in her eyes. Gently he turned her face towards the light of the oil lamp. The pupils of her eyes did not diminish in size. Was it true some drugs had that affect?

‘Poor Jakey,' she mocked. ‘You were always pathetic as a lover. Are you still a failure? I know what you want. Come and take your revenge on me!'

The time had come to play his trump card. ‘I'm sorry to ruin your day, Jenny. It's time to pack your bags and find another meal ticket. You've been living a lie. Your Conte Francesco della Lorenzo is as noble as my Aunt Fanny. His real name is Frankie Hotchkiss. Nothing but a Cockney from London's East End. The closest he ever came to an aristocrat was some Venetian count visiting London. Frankie was his valet. He stole the old bloke's money, family jewels, papers and his family tree!'

‘A
valet
?' she shrieked in horror. ‘You're a lying bastard!'

‘Can't you see the funny side?' He waved the Yankee's report. ‘I hired a detective to find Pearl. If you'd let me see her at the start, I would never have discovered that Frankie's a total fraud!'

Jenny was wailing as if her heart was broken. Jake began to enjoy himself.

‘Right now the only people who know the truth are you, me and The American Investigations Agency. Oh yeah and another thing. Your maid Emilia Hotchkiss is Frankie's wife. She's a genuine Italian, taught him every bloody thing he knows.'