Timeless Passion: 10 Historical Romances To Savor (286 page)

“There, there mum. You cry all that nasty hurt away. Whoever he was, he was jes’ a man. A stupid, cruel man. They don’ know no better. Them sort don’ think wiv their brains, they think wiv their — ” Electra heard no more as she shuddered and choked with the sobbing.

Finally, red-eyed, red-nosed, and exhausted, she hiccoughed an apology to the young girl for the outburst. She realised there was a lightness within her, not felt all these many years, from the emotional release. In sharing her own experience so matter-of-factly, Molly had inadvertently given Electra an opportunity to let go of her crippling burden.

“I bet yer feels good fer gettin’ rid o’ that ‘un, mum? I reckon Mr. Radcliffe might be happy about it too, if yer know wha’ I mean,” she said winking.

Electra laughed through her tears and grabbed the girl in a hug, making her jump in alarm, exclaiming that she didn’t have to get carried away. This only made Electra laugh harder until Molly, amused by Electra’s hysteria, joined in.

William, also nursing a headache, had returned to the house to escape the midday sun and walked in on the two women.

Electra looked up at her husband. She was finally ready to share her secret.

Chapter Eighteen

“What? The perverted bastard!” William shot off the bed, pacing the room angrily. He smashed his fist down onto the table, sending articles flying to the floor.

“The man will pay for what he’s done to you,” he growled.

“Yes, you’re right, he should pay. For all of it. Thank God, I’m finally past the anger and bitterness,” said Electra, trying to encourage him back to bed.

“Well, dammit woman, I’m not!” He pulled on his breeches, and slammed out of the room.

That had not gone exactly as she hoped. But his protective rage told her he could not stand to know she had been abused. He must care for her, more than a little, if the extent of his outburst was any indication. Should she try to find him? Perhaps not. The little she knew of William told her he would need to deal with this alone.

She waited, trying to stay awake but finally drifted off to sleep. Later in the night, Electra became aware of William climbing into bed. He reached over and roughly pulled her toward him, as if to protect her from further harm.

“Are you asleep?” he whispered.

“Not now. Are you all right?”

He grunted in response. “Electra?”

She nodded.

“I don’t want to ask you details about what that sick degenerate did but … well … did he … ?”

“I was never sure, Will. I don’t think I understood any of it at the time.”

“I’m so sorry. So very sorry.”

“I know you are. I’m all right, truly. Go to sleep.”

As sleep beckoned her once again she could hear him still muttering, “Filthy bastard.” She sighed, comforted in the knowledge that while she was with William, no man would ever have the chance to hurt her again.

• • •

Electra found William’s mood had not improved by morning and when Mary came into the breakfast room to ask him a question, the girl took one look at his face and scuttled out.

Fortunately, a messenger from the governor forced him to display a semblance of cordiality. Governor Macquarie had finally given his full attention to William’s proposal for Radcliffe Wines and expressed an eagerness to discuss the details with him. William left mid-morning to meet with the governor at his residence in Parramatta, his mood considerably improved by the possibility of the new venture.

When he returned, he enthusiastically outlined the plans, formulated that morning. The governor would grant him fifty acres of land to expand his vineyard and assist with the funding of an engineer to design and build the necessary equipment. There would be a group of farmers involved in the project, and the governor would ensure connections with government officials in England for the exportation.

“It is my proposal to the letter, Electra. He hasn’t changed a thing. With the wool, and now wine, our colony will not only be self-sufficient, it will be a thriving economy.”

She smiled, caught up in his excitement and pleased to be included. It was clear he loved this country with all its opportunities, and had no intention of returning to England to live. She pushed the implications of this knowledge away.

“The only problem as I see it,” he said looking at her thoughtfully, “will be the need for every detail of this new venture to be recorded. As a new industry, we will need to know what works and what doesn’t for future production. I’m already overloaded as it is.”

“I can always help, you know that.”

“Yes, of course. But this is going to be a lot of work. I’d rather you weren’t tied down to it.”

A thought struck her. “What about Molly?”

William frowned. “I don’t know. She’s young, inexperienced — ”

She waved his concerns away with her hand. “She’ll be perfect. I can supervise her. She’s a quick learner, and I’m confident she’ll do a wonderful job.”

“Well, if you’re sure. It would certainly help. And there will be money to pay her,” he assured Electra.

“Shall I tell her now?” she asked, rising from the chair.

William shook his head. “I still have something more to tell you.”

She sat down and waited.

“The matter we spoke of last night — ”

“Leave it, Will. There is nothing you can do.”

William’s fists clenched. “If the piece of scum lived here, he would no longer be breathing.”

It was true, she knew this. The man would have stood no chance against her husband bent on revenge.

“However, he doesn’t. So other tactics are called for.” William paused. “I visited Lord Percy on my way home to offer any assistance I can to gather the evidence needed to have him charged.”

“And?”

“Not surprisingly, Gascombe’s greed has caused him to cheat the ship’s captain, who has now put a price on his head. The coward is in hiding but won’t be for long. The net is closing, Electra.”

“But if the captain has him killed, he can never give evidence that will clear my name,” she said, clearing her throat to remove the anxious note that entered her voice.

William moved over to where she sat, reached down and tilted her chin to look into her eyes. “That is why Percy and I will see he is protected until the evidence is given. After that — well accidents happen, don’t they?”

She shivered. “I’m not sure I want to hear more.”

“Then that is all you will hear, my sweet. Now go and tell Molly the good news.”

• • •

“They said it was Mick Murphy and four others. Did you hear anything else?”

“Aye, they raped the fifteen-year-old lass and shot the laddie. The parents werena’ at home.”

Shelagh and Electra had rounded the corner of the kitchen and overheard the two men speaking. Shelagh clapped her hand to her mouth, gasping in horror. The discussion over Sean Sullivan’s affection for Freddy Buckley forgotten. She grabbed Electra’s skirt, pulling her to a stop. They turned toward the two men. Callum shook his head at William as they approached. Shelagh slapped him hard on the arm.

“Ye’re no gettin’ away with no’ tellin’ me, Callum MacDonald. We all deserve to know if we’re in danger.”

Callum scowled at her as Electra joined in, asking what was going on.

Shelagh spoke up. “It’s that mongrel, Mick Murphy, raisin’ bluidy hell again.”

“Who is Mick Murphy?” asked Electra.

“Do ye ken who else is runnin’ with Murphy?” asked Callum, not answering her question.

“There were three who escaped with him who have not been apprehended and it’s almost certain they are part of his gang. As for the fifth,” William shook his head, mystified, “we’ve no idea. And of course they all cover their faces, except for Murphy. The arrogant bastard wants the notoriety.”

Electra’s head swivelled back and forth as they spoke, her frustration building. “Who is Mick Murphy? I have no idea what you are talking about.” She looked from one to the other, waiting for an answer.

William narrowed his eyes at Shelagh and turned to his wife. “He is an escaped convict turned bushranger, mean as they come. It seems he’s gathered a group of other lowlife and they have been robbing the more isolated settlers.” At her look of concern, he added quickly, “We will be safe here though.”

“You said something about rape and a boy being shot. That’s not just robbing, Will,” she said frowning.

He sighed. “No it’s not. I’m going to take some of the men out of the fields and have them watch the house and the cottages. I think it would be sensible if none of the women or young girls at Riverside go anywhere on their own until the man has been apprehended.” He looked pointedly at Electra. “That applies especially to you.”

She pursed her lips and snorted. “What do you think I’m going to do? Run off on my own waving a banner inviting them to come for me?”

He raised an eyebrow and grinned. “No, but prancing off into the bush to visit Yaraay at the Pretty Creek Camp will be too dangerous. You are not to go there, understand?”

Her first instinct was to refuse his order but the look on his face made her close her mouth and nod. He was genuinely concerned for her safety and considered it his responsibility to protect her. She decided to let him.

Lost in thought, Electra missed part of the conversation, until a nudge from Shelagh made her look up. “I’m sorry, Shelagh. What did you say?”

“I was asking if ye want to come with me out to the Holbourne place.”

Electra looked at her questioningly.

“It was Annie Holbourne who was raped and her brother Marcus shot by Murphy’s gang. I want to visit the parents and see if there is anything we can do for them.”

“Of course I want to come, er — if that’s all right with you?” She looked at Will.

His eyes widened and he burst out laughing. “Yes, you can. Take Tom O’Reilly with you.” He turned to Callum. “I can’t believe she asked my permission.”

“Well enjoy it, because it probably won’t happen too often,” she said over her shoulder as she walked off with Shelagh.

“Oh, I’m very well aware of that,” he muttered.

• • •

Mrs. Holbourne was deeply grateful for the visit from the women. Electra had thought to bring Molly Preston with her to speak with the young girl, Annie. The difference in the girl after an hour in private with Molly was astounding. They did not divulge the details of their conversation, but Molly agreed to visit again and Electra could see the beginnings of a friendship.

By some miracle, the twelve-year-old boy, Marcus, had not been fatally wounded. The shot had gone into his thigh and the bullet had been successfully removed by the doctor. The boy was now well enough to enjoy the attention he was receiving. While Mrs. Holbourne fussed with tea downstairs, Electra went up to Marcus with herbs to poultice the wound to avoid infection. From his bed, Marcus insisted on giving her a full description of the attack and his heroic attempt to protect his sister. He lowered his voice and swore Electra to secrecy, as he knew his mother would be mortified at the story being repeated.

As Marcus began his story, Shelagh slipped into the room, her eyes raised in question. Marcus nodded his permission for her to stay and continued.

• • •

On the day of the attack, Mr. and Mrs. Holbourne had gone visiting, but the children begged to stay at home. Marcus was training a new pony and Annie, preferring to bury her nose in a book, had remained in her room. The bushrangers must have watched the Holbournes leave the farm and waited until midday. At this time the fields were empty for the dinner break, and they were less likely to be seen crossing to the house.

Marcus had tired of training his pony and was tracing shapes with a stick in the dirt outside the back door. Suddenly a hard, sweating hand covered his mouth and another held his body in a firm grip. He turned and twisted until a backward jerk of his arm brought a muffled cry of pain, and he slumped against the wall of the house, sobbing in terror.

“Shut yer stupid mouth boyo or I’ll be after snappin’ ye like a twig.” His assailant spun him round and he looked into the cruel face of the infamous Mick Murphy. The bushranger was a big man with wide, sloping shoulders and eyes like gemstones: hard, cold, and lifeless. A jagged scar ran down the side of his face and through his lips giving him a permanent sneer. Marcus had seen Murphy’s face plastered on posters around town and most inhabitants of the colony had heard of Mick Murphy. That was how the man liked it. Murphy boasted of the rush he felt when his victims recognised his face and shook with terror.

The bushranger sent three of his companions into the house to search for money and valuables and could be heard smashing furniture and ransacking the Holbourne’s belongings. Bored with the boy’s snivelling, Murphy threw him like a rag at the short bandy-legged man beside him. The man flicked his thatch of red hair out of his eyes and cackled gleefully when he saw Marcus had wet himself.

A shrill scream from the front room told him Annie, on hearing the noise, had come down from her bedroom.

Murphy’s face appeared at the door, beckoning his cohort. “By the Christ, ye’ll be after relievin’ yer frustration today, boyo. There be bounty of every kind for the takin’. Bring the boy in; he’ll be getting’ some education this day.”

When Marcus’ captor dragged him into the front room, he was sick with fear and dread. He was forced to watch as the men stripped his sister of her skirt and undergarments. Two of the men held her struggling legs apart while Murphy took his pleasure. They had not gagged her, as it seemed her screams of pain added to his excitement and arousal.

“Leave her! You depraved bastard, leave her alone!” screamed Marcus as he twisted free and barrelled headfirst into Murphy.

The man, absorbed in his activity, lost his balance and toppled to the floor, knocking the man to his right over with him. With one leg free, Annie swung her boot into the face of the man holding her other leg, breaking his nose. He screamed in pain and lurched at the girl with his fist, but Marcus picked up a chair and swung it into the man’s head.

“Run, Marcus! Run!” sobbed Annie.

Murphy disentangled himself and, enraged at Marcus’ tenacity, pulled out his gun and shot the boy. Annie fainted and Murphy, determined not to be thwarted from his prize, turned to complete his violation of the inert girl.