by Joanna Lloyd
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.
The sound of the gunshot had raised the alarm and when one of his men spotted two rifle-wielding workers heading for the house, Murphy, cursing volubly, slipped out the side door with his men. He had still taken the time, however, to leave his trademark strip of red fabric tied to the fencepost.
Murphy always left his calling card.
“I’ll never forget what that heartless, evil bastard … sorry for the language … did to my gentle sister. I want him dead. I want him dead,” said Marcus, his voice breaking with emotion.
Electra and Shelagh were speechless. The boy had told his story with a mixture of tentative bravado, raw fear, and agonising pain, and admitted both he and Annie had been suffering horrible nightmares each night since the attack. Electra placed a hand on her stomach in an effort to still the nausea provoked by his story. She could not imagine how the family would ever get past this tragedy.
They turned to leave but at the door of his bedroom, an inexplicable curiosity made her look back at the boy and ask, “Did you or Annie see any of the other men’s faces?”
He shook his head. “No, I never did. But I did see something — ”
“What?” They both asked together.
He scratched his head. “Well, when I hit that fat one with the chair, I remember his arm coming out to block it and the little finger was missing off his hand.”
Electra froze and she felt a dizzying sensation as the blood drained from her face. Perhaps it was a coincidence, she thought. He would have sailed with the Liberty and be on the other side of the world by now. Her imagination was getting the better of her.
On the journey home, each of the women wondered how they would have dealt with the horror experienced by the Holbourne family. Even Molly, who had seen far more degradation than the other two, admitted being rattled by the story.
• • •
William listened as Electra relayed the story told by Marcus.
Like Electra, he too was outraged at the level of cruelty Murphy displayed and wondered what he would do if he had a daughter who was touched by such a man. Murderous thoughts filled his mind and he decided if he ever had the chance to be part of a hunting party to track down Murphy, he would not hesitate.
William had not missed the depth of feeling exhibited by his wife as she spoke of the pain suffered by the Holbourne family. Her own horrific experiences had not hardened her to the plight of others and her eyes glinted with compassion. He assured her they would do everything possible to help the Holbourne family, omitting his thoughts of murder, and watched her gratitude soften her eyes.
Why could he not tell this beautiful, amazing woman he loved her? It did not escape him that she did not trust him enough to do the same. Little wonder after the letter from Charlotte.
There was something he had been meaning to do and perhaps now was the time to do it.
• • •
Despite three scorching hot days, a southerly wind gusted through in the late afternoon, causing both a drop in temperature and a thunderstorm. Shi Liang had deemed it damp enough to light a small fire in the bedroom hearth to dry any moisture build up. When they came up to bed, neither William nor Electra lit a candle, preferring the soft flicker of the fire throwing shadows across the room. The storm was still raging outside and Electra changed quickly into her nightgown and jumped into bed, pulling her knees up to her chin as she watched William undress.
“Have you made a decision about when you will return to England?” she asked.
William tossed his shirt over the chair and began unbuttoning his breeches. He watched the flames for a few moments before answering her.
“Let me show you something.”
William walked over to the tallboy and pulled out the top drawer. He rifled through his clothes before his hand seized on something and removed it. Returning to the bed, he reached for her hand and dropped the object into her palm.
It was a miniature of a very beautiful woman with milky-white skin and blue-black hair. Her eyes were of a colour between blue and indigo. She wore a pale lilac gown, low in the front and sitting off her creamy shoulders, tapering flatteringly to her slim waist.
Electra frowned and held it out to him. “Who is it, Will? I don’t recognise her … oh!” She clapped her hand to her mouth. “It’s her, isn’t it? It’s Charlotte.”
He nodded as she thrust the object back into his hand. She was not only astonished that he would parade the miniature before her, but hurt that he kept it all this time.
“Why would you flaunt her image at me?” Her vision of William blurred as her eyes pooled with tears.
“It’s not what you think. There’s something I must do and I want you to witness it. Please, let me explain.”
Instinctively she pulled her knees up closer and wrapped her arms around them as if to protect herself from his words.
“This image was made on the day we formalised our betrothal. It was my most precious possession until the day I came home from Spain and found her married to my father.” The pain of their betrayal was still hard on his face. “After that day it became my most detested possession. And I kept it so I could continue to hate her. To this day I cannot stand the colour lilac.”
Electra found herself mentally checking the colour of her gowns.
“The thing is, Electra, I find I don’t need to hate her anymore. You fill my life so completely, there is no room for the bitterness I have carried for so long.” His smile warmed the room and relaxed her tensed muscles.
William walked over to the fire. Without hesitation he tossed the miniature into the blaze. He watched as the flames engulfed it, blistering the glass and finally turning the image to ashes.
“There,” he said, his sigh of relief audible. “I am done with loving and hating her. When I return to England it will be as a duty, with you, my wife, by my side.” He returned to the bed and took her hands.
“But Will, you know I can’t leave the country until I am either fully pardoned or my name is cleared.”
“So now you have the answer as to when I will return to England,” he said with a small grin, one eyebrow cocked.
She fell into his arms, amazed yet again at the strength and sensitivity of the man she loved.
As William began to feather his hand down her body, she relaxed in the knowledge Charlotte was no longer a threat.
Chapter Nineteen
Sean Sullivan kicked the bottom step. He moved back and looked into the depths of the house, twisting his hat nervously in his hands. Mary fidgeted at his side, then impatient, poked him in the ribs.
“Go on then, ask him. He ain’t gonna bite yer.”
“Go on away with ye, girl. I’ll be after doin’ it right or not at all,” he answered, pushing her hand away. She exhaled loudly and deposited herself on a stool near the kitchen to watch him gather his courage.
“You looking for me, Sean?” asked William, appearing behind him.
Sean jumped in fright, dropping his hat, and Mary dissolved into giggles.
“Er, that I am sir. Would ye be after givin’ me a minute of your time for a real important question?”
William frowned at the boy. “I’m a bit busy at the moment, perhaps another time.”
Sean looked crestfallen and started to turn away. Electra had been following William and had heard the conversation between Mary and Sean. She had a fairly good idea of what was afoot.
“Will, stop torturing the boy and let him speak.”
William laughed loudly, slapping Sean’s back.
When the boy had got his breath back he grinned sheepishly. “Could it be that ye’re foolin’ with me, sir?”
“Could be, Sean. Come on then what’s this about?”
With Electra, Mary, and Shi Liang, who had come out of the kitchen, as an audience, Sean asked for William’s permission to marry Mary Buckley. As he finished stuttering his request, Mary whooped with joy and jumped up to stand beside him, waiting for William’s response.
“I knew it! I’ve seen you together and, Sean, you are so wonderful with Freddy. Will?” prodded Electra.
“I don’t know, Sean. I just don’t think you’ll be as dedicated to your work with a family,” said William, with a straight face.
“Oh sir, mum, you can’t say no,” wailed Mary, “I loves him, I do.”
“He’s joking!” said Electra, glaring at Will.
William grinned. “It’s wonderful news and I give you my permission and my blessing.” He shook Sean’s hand in congratulations while Electra hugged Mary.
Shi Liang mumbled something about “ … marry on’y bring trouble to boy,” but seemed to enjoy the excited hug Mary gave him.
“When will you marry, Mary?” asked Electra.
Mary looked shyly at Sean. “We thought as how we might do it Christmas Eve. Would that be orright then?”
Electra clapped her hands. “Wonderful, a Christmas wedding.” She frowned as she counted the weeks. “Goodness that’s only a few weeks away. We shall have to get busy.”
“We don’t want no fuss, mum. Jus’ sumfing small like, as part of our Christmas celebrations,” said Mary quickly.
The men had already wandered away as the women chatted about gowns, flowers, and food. Electra decided they would give Mary a wedding worthy of the occasion and of Riverside.
• • •
“Oh!” squealed Electra as one of the kookaburras snatched the meat from her hand. She watched, unmoving, as he beat the meat against a branch and then, satisfied it was dead, threw his head back, and swallowed it. The bird then turned his masked eyes back to his benefactor, ready to snatch the next offering.
“I never realised how tame they could be,” said William, as they enjoyed the cool, evening breeze on the veranda. The day had been hot and dry and his eyes roamed lazily up her figure, coolly clad in pale blue and white muslin. The pleasure in his face as he watched her feed the beautiful birds, sent a delicious rush of warmth through her. His shirtsleeves were rolled back above his elbows, revealing his strong, brown arms. He had loosened the top buttons, exposing his neck to the balmy air, and she admitted to also enjoying the sight of his attire. He was about to speak again when Annie came through from the house with a message.
Curtsying, she presented a tray, which held a letter. “Sir, I am sorry but I clean forgot this letter what come earlier. What wiv all Mary’s news an’ all … .”
This time both William and Electra recognised the writing. Neither spoke. Electra’s heart thumped in dread as William, with shaking hands, broke the seal.
Before reading it, William reached over for her hand, his gesture meant as a comfort. It only increased her nervousness. “It will be all right, my darling, she cannot affect us. It will be some legal issue.”
He unfolded the sheet of cream paper and read the short letter quickly. With a shake of his head, he read it again. His hand holding the letter dropped to his lap.
“Why do I continue to underestimate her?” he whispered.
Electra found she could not ask the question. She was too frightened of the answer.
William looked up at her. “She’s coming. Here. To Riverside. Dear God, how could she do this?” He raked his fingers through his hair in agitation.
“But — does she know you are married?”
“She knows nothing of my life. I told you, I have had no contact since the day I left my father’s home, more than nine years ago.”
Electra clutched the sides of her skirt to stop her hands from shaking. “When — when is she coming?”
Silence from William. She waited for his answer.
“She says she and the child had passage on the Lady Jane leaving three weeks from the date of writing this letter. That would mean she is only three weeks behind the letter.”
Electra gasped. “Good Lord! She will be here for Christmas.” She looked up at William, her stomach churning with fear. “What will we do?”
“I don’t know. But whatever it is, we will do it together. You are my wife, Electra and she is my father’s widow, nothing else.”
She wanted to believe it was true. But the image of a smiling, dark haired beauty tested the belief.
There was much to be done for the coming festivities. Electra threw herself into every activity available. There was to be an evening wedding with a feast on Christmas Eve for Mary and Sean, with all the workers at Riverside invited. And on Christmas Day they would have a luncheon, beginning at midday, for their close neighbours and friends.
Electra’s wedding gift to Mary was a wedding gown made by Mrs. Grenville. The girl told her she could not sleep at night for excitement at wearing such finery. Mary had chosen a pale lemon muslin with long, sheer sleeves, white ribbon under the bust line, tied in a bow at the back and a small lemon and white bonnet.
William also filled his days with endless activity. The wheat fields had been turned ready for the next planting, the last crop of potatoes had been harvested and the next lot would not be put in until February. He had supervised the pruning of the young shoots on his existing vine stock, and the weeds between the rows of vines had been ploughed. With Callum’s help, he had laid out plans for extending the vineyards and selected the vines that would carry the new harvest. The lambs were now fending for themselves, and the sheep would not need shearing again until the beginning of autumn.
“What are you doing today, Will?” asked Electra.
“Plenty to do. Plenty to do,” he said, standing up from his breakfast, brushing crumbs from his hands.
She sighed. “Admit it, Will, like me you are running out of ways to take your mind off the Lady Jane’s imminent arrival.”
He walked over to Electra, crouched down, and, with his hands on her shoulders, turned her to face him. “God, Electra. I admire that about you.” She lifted her head, raised her eyebrows in question. “The fact that you always face things head-on. You’re quite right of course, it’s not knowing what she’s up to that’s driving me crazy.”
She reached for his hand, the warm strength of it making her want him. Her desire was mirrored in his eyes as his hand slipped down from her shoulder onto her breast. Her nipple hardened at his touch and she sensed, rather than saw, his devilish smile. She breathed in h
is fresh man smell as he bent down to her lips, running his tongue along the line of her mouth. Her lips parted willingly and on his breath was the delicious aroma of milky coffee and marmalade jam.
“Oh, beg pardon, mum, sir,” said Annie, backing out of the room. Electra jumped back from William and called for Annie to come back and clear the table. William chuckled as the maid clattered plates together and scuttled out of the room.
Electra pushed her chair back and standing up, took William’s hand and led him out of the room. “I have an idea. Let’s go for a picnic. Just you and I. Callum took me to a lovely spot at the back of the orchards, near the river, and I have wanted to go back there.”
William frowned, already shaking his head. Then he looked at Electra, raised his eyebrows, and smiled. “All right, let’s do it. Give me half an hour to speak to Callum while you get ready, and I’ll meet you out the back with the horses.”
• • •
They arrived at the picnic spot as the sun reached its zenith; the heat forcing them to seek the shade of the river trees. William removed his boots and hat, wiped his sweat-soaked brow with a scarf, and stretched out on his back, with arms behind his head and ankles crossed.
Electra also kicked off her shoes and removed the straw hat from her head. As she fanned her face with it, she absorbed the image of her husband. He seemed so completely relaxed and at peace. His agitation at Charlotte’s imminent arrival seemed to have left him for the moment. She ran her eyes over his strong, lean body, still unable to believe he was hers.
“I can feel your eyes and hear your thoughts, Mrs. Radcliffe. I would wager they aren’t the proper thoughts of a genteel lady,” he said, opening one eye.