Savage Possession

by Margaret Tanner

  He held a chipped cup to her lips, and she gulped the tepid liquid. “Thank you, could I have some more?”

  “All right.” He came back and squatted down beside her.

  “Could you loosen the ropes a little please?”

  “No, no, they’ll kill me if you got away. I’ll be in big trouble if they find out I’ve even given you a drink. Treat her harsh, but don’t kill her were our orders. I’ve been cold and hungry so I know what it’s like.”

  Who was this black widow? She sounded even worse than Butch did. A woman doing this to another woman was diabolical. “My husband would pay you a lot of money if you helped me escape,” she promised, clamping down on her terror.

  “No, I c…can’t.”

  “He would pay off all your debts.”

  “I can’t, I can’t, Butch will kill me. It won’t be quick either. I saw him beat a man to death once, flogged him until he died. Bits of flesh flew off everywhere.” He shuddered. “Terrible to watch, even if he was a savage.”

  “How could she have forgotten such a horrible voice? Butch was the mounted policeman who had ill-treated his aboriginal prisoners. Oh, God, she was imprisoned by a sadist.

  * * *

  Butch returned the next day with his companion, a tall woman dressed from head to toe in black, with a heavy veil covering her face. Beth recognized her as the woman who accosted Martin on the Seymour railway station in what seemed like another lifetime.

  “So, we meet again, Mrs. Mulvaney.”

  “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “I want to make Mulvaney pay.” The woman cackled like a demented witch.

  “I haven’t done anything to you. Please, I’m with child. I don’t want anything to happen to my baby. Don’t you have any pity?”

  “No, not when it comes to Mulvaney. He owes me and by God, he’ll pay. He showed me no mercy and you’ll get the same treatment. Pity he doesn’t know it’s me who’s got you.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Shut your mouth, slut,” Butch snarled, stepping over to her. “Time she learnt who’s boss around here.” He fumbled with the buttons on his pants.

  “She’ll be yours when I say so.” The black widow stopped him with an imperious wave of one hand. “Things have changed. I want what’s in her belly now.”

  “That’s bloody months away,” Butch blustered. “You said…”

  “Shut up or you won’t be paid. I want Mulvaney’s child. Thanks to him, I’ll never have one of my own. Poetic justice I call it.” She gave a high-pitched laugh. “Losing the fruit of his loins will hurt him even more than finding out his wife is a harlot in one of my dockside brothels.”

  “Who are you?” Beth asked frantically. Death would be preferable to what this evil creature planned. “I’d kill myself before I let some pock-ridden sailor touch me.”

  “You’ll be so desperate for opium by the time I finish with you, you’ll spread your legs for the foulest beast on earth, like I did.”

  “Who are you? Why do you hate Martin so much?”

  “Get out,” the black widow ordered. “You two wait outside.”

  When the men left, the woman moved in closer, poised like a viper ready to strike. She lifted up her veil and Beth could not stop a scream of horror at the grotesque sight. Half the woman’s face was missing. The flesh had been burned away, leaving only scar tissue to cover the bone. One eye was gone, the empty socket sunken and withered.

  “This is what the Mulvaneys did to me.” She pushed her face up so close the mangled flesh almost touched her own and Beth began to retch. Had there been any food in her stomach she would have vomited.

  “Wh…What happened?” she managed to gasp when the woman dropped the veil back into place and stepped away.

  “Black Jack Mulvaney did this to me. I hadn’t even turned sixteen when he raped me for days on end, then took me to Melbourne to a dockside brothel and gave me to them. They forced me to service the filthiest, vilest of men. One of the customers tipped lime over my face and breasts.”

  Beth shuddered. “Martin would only have been a child at the time.”

  “Yes. I begged him to help me escape and he refused. Too cowardly to risk his miserable hide to save me. I vowed one day to get even with the Mulvaneys, to make them suffer. Before I could afford to punish Jack he died, but Martin...” She laughed, a harsh, cold sound, devoid of mirth. “I’ve toyed with him for quite a while.”

  “You sent all those threatening letters Martin told me about.”

  “Yes, I wanted him to suffer. To wonder when something might happen to him, only he didn’t care, not until you came along and he put the child in your belly. Then he cared. Took notice of Emily Parsons after that, damn him to hell.”

  Up and down she paced, her black dress making a swishing sound as the skirt brushed the floor. The woman appeared deranged, which made her even more dangerous. No telling what she might be capable of doing. No chance to reason with her or beg for mercy.

  Somehow, I’ve got to escape. I couldn’t survive months of incarceration with a fiend like Butch raping and mistreating me. Would not want to survive. If only she still carried the little gun Alistair had given her. As a last resort if things got too bad, she would have killed herself and her baby. God alone knew what evil Emily Parsons planned for Martin’s child.

  Terrified, she didn’t know how she stopped the screams of fear from spewing out of her mouth. Instinct told her it would prove fatal to show any weakness in front of these monsters.

  “Take me back to town,” Emily yelled out. “I’ve got plans to make.”

  Butch and the young man re-entered the hut together. “Make sure you keep your cock out of her until I say.” Emily stabbed the air with her finger.

  Butch gave a growl of laughter.

  “Goodbye, Mrs. Mulvaney, I’ll meet up with you again soon,” Emily said, sounding like a departing guest from an afternoon tea party. She sailed out of the hut like a fully rigged pirate ship, leaving Beth alone with the nervous, agitated young man.

  * * *

  Another day passed, still Butch did not return, and the young man’s behavior became even more erratic. Every now and again he would laugh, making Beth wonder about his sanity.

  The door burst open, Butch staggered in with a spear protruding from his stomach.

  “Bloody savages got us.” He slumped to the ground.

  Beth screamed as several aboriginals charged into the hut. Their faces were painted with white stripes, and they brandished spears. Her screams grew even louder when one of them came up close. She was going to die, and Martin’s baby would be destroyed before it had a chance to live. Better an aboriginal spear than what Emily Parsons planned for them.

  “Please, don’t hurt me. My husband will pay, plenty money.”

  “No hurt missus.” One of the natives put his hands around his neck. He must be one of the aboriginal prisoners she had saved from Butch’s mistreatment all those weeks ago. “Plenty bad spirit woman dead.”

  As the aborigine bent to untie her, the young man gave a blood-curdling scream. Another native had speared him in the chest. He slumped to the ground, with a pistol still held in his lifeless hand.

  “You go this way.” The aborigine pointed, showing her the way home.

  They had arrived silently, and departed the same way. Beth staggered on to the porch. The sky looked dull and heavy with cloud in the twilight. Too risky to travel very far at night, although she had to escape the carnage in the hut or lose her mind.

  She struggled off the porch and spied Butch’s horse grazing nearby. With all the strength she could muster Beth staggered over to it. Unfortunate that the young man had died, but Butch and Emily deserved what they got. Strange how the hand of fate dealt the cards, her good turn to the aborigines had been repaid a hundred fold.

  Rounding up the horse, she scrambled on to its back, astonished at how well she could complete the task. The desire for self-preservation proved strong, nowhere near as s
trong as the desire to save Martin’s baby.

  Without a backward glance, she rode off. They plodded on for a time. As darkness fell, the risk of getting lost became greater. Safer to wait until daylight. This would be her third night away from the castle. Martin would be conducting a frantic search, who would he be most concerned for, her or the baby?

  Huddled in a forked branch of a tree, the long night hours crawled by. Still, nothing could be worse than being in Butch’s clutches. Her eyes watered and felt gritty from lack of sleep. She dared not close them in case she toppled from the tree and landed at the feet of some prowling animal, of the two-legged variety.

  A wild dog sent up a mournful howl, the night animals scurried about their business as she clung to her perch, shivering in the darkness.

  Dawn at last. She did not feel hungry, but desperately needed a drink; her mouth felt dry as sawdust. Watch the birds, grandfather always said. At sunset and sunrise, they would lead you straight to water.

  She followed a flock of birds and found a water hole not far from where she had spent the night. At the water edge, she knelt and cupped her hands. What bliss. Like an angel’s touch, the cool liquid caressed her parched throat. After the horse drank his fill, they set off again.

  Beth felt bruised and battered and her whole body ached and throbbed. Butch would have raped and tortured her. Emily Parsons planned to turn her into an opium-addicted whore, a fate worse than death. What of Martin’s baby? She didn’t dare try to imagine what Emily intended to do with it, or she would collapse in a screaming heap.

  The horse plodded westward, the direction the aborigine had pointed out. She could have cried with relief when they stumbled on to a rough track that led to civilization.

  Pain seared through her head, so excruciating she closed her eyes to blot out the light. Wrapping the reins around her hands, she slumped over, incapable of sitting upright.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Elizabeth, Elizabeth.” She opened her eyes a fraction in answer to Martin’s frantic voice, although her lids felt so heavy, they kept falling down over her eyes.

  From a million miles away, a woman’s voice said. “Let her sleep, Martin.”

  “No, wake up, wake up. I have to know what happened.”

  “Martin?” Beth forced her eyes open.

  “Yes, I’m here, you’re safe now. You’re back at the castle.” His fingers caressed her cheek. “One of the search parties found you yesterday, babbling and out of your mind.”

  A shudder racked through her at the memory of the horror, fear, and absolute hopelessness of her predicament. How close she had come to death or worse.

  “What happened to you?”

  Slowly at first, the words came in an anguished whisper, then faster and faster, until they tumbled out on top of each other.

  “Those sonsofbitches. I’m glad the natives speared them,” he said viciously. “You’ve had a little taste of hell, haven’t you, my sweet?”

  “I thought they meant to kill me. Emily Parsons was insane.”

  “Who?” Martin’s whole body became rigid.

  “Emily Parsons.”

  “My God. I thought she was dead.” He cradled Beth in his arms and rocked her. “No one will ever hurt you again, I promise.”

  Emily Parsons had not died in the cellar. Once more Black Jack’s legacy had touched him with its evil. He had worried about Emily’s fate for years, tortured himself for not trying to save her, while she had spent half a lifetime plotting to harm him.

  How good it felt being held against Martin’s hard chest, inhaling his special musky aroma.

  “I’ve made you some broth.”

  Beth raised her head, and Dolly stood there, a smile on her red painted lips.

  “Dolly’s been a wonderful help,” Martin said. “She got you out of those filthy clothes then bathed you. I don’t know what I would have done without her.” He gave the other woman one of his rare smiles.

  “The least I could do for such a dear friend.”

  Dolly fed Beth the broth, and in her weakened state, she had to accept the ministrations of this woman who had once been Martin’s mistress.

  “No more, thank you.” After a few mouthfuls, she turned her head away.

  “Eat a little more. Dolly made it especially for you.”

  That’s why I don’t want it. “You said Dolly had left the castle.”

  “She did, but while waiting in town she heard what happened and dashed back to help out, so thoughtful of her.”

  “What about grandfather?” Beth asked frantically.

  “I caught up with Alistair after they found you. They hadn’t left the property, so didn’t even know you were missing.”

  “Come downstairs, Martin. I’ll make you a cup of tea,” Dolly murmured. “Elizabeth needs to rest.”

  “Did you find the stallion?” Beth asked.

  “Yes, none the worse for wear, thank goodness.”

  “They let him out on purpose to lure you away from the castle.”

  “I know. You need to rest now, my sweet.”

  Beth slept. She woke up when Martin slid into bed beside her.

  “I’ll ask nothing of you tonight.” He pulled her into his arms and turned her face into the warm comfort of his chest.

  “Where’s Dolly?”

  “In the pink room.”

  “I don’t want her here.”

  “Elizabeth!”

  “I don’t trust her.”

  “She’s been good to you, to both of us in fact.”

  Yes, especially good to Martin, exactly how good was the burning question.

  Next morning when Beth came down to the kitchen, Dolly and Martin sat at the table deep in discussion. They stopped when she entered, and Dolly jumped up looking guilty.

  “You shouldn’t be up, Elizabeth, you need to rest. You’ve suffered a nasty shock,” he said.

  “I’m all right now.”

  Dolly handed her a cup of tea with a seemingly innocent smile. “I’m glad you feel better, Martin and I have been so worried about you.”

  Liar, Beth knew the other woman couldn’t care less about her welfare. She wanted Martin. Could she have been conspiring with Emily Parsons? The thought popped into her head. With her out of the way, Dolly would be free to sink her hooks into him. On the other hand, maybe the woman did come back to help an old friend out. Whatever the case, Dolly was a dangerous rival for Martin’s attention and she had to go.

  “You’ve been kind, Dolly, but I’m recovered now.”

  “I’ll stay another couple of days to make sure you don’t have a relapse before I head back to Melbourne.”

  Martin waited. Beth guessed he wanted her to tell Dolly to stay longer if she wanted to, but the words would not come out.

  “You’re welcome to stay longer,” he said, shooting Beth a hard look. “I’m glad you’re here with Elizabeth. I can go to the Blackmore horse sales now and not worry about her being alone. There are a couple of mares I’m interested in. They’re imported from England, impeccable bloodlines,” he enthused.

  “Don’t go,” Beth pleaded.

  “I have to, my sweet, a chance like this mightn’t come up again for years. Dolly can keep you company.”

  “I need you.”

  “When I get back, if you feel well enough, we’ll go into town for dinner.”

  “Oh, yes.” Dolly clapped her hands. “There’s a new place opened up, with entertainment too. I hear it’s very good.”

  “Well, ladies.” He bowed. “I’m off.”

  Once Martin left, Dolly’s veneer of concern vanished.

  “Martin would have paid two thousand pounds for your return. Poor man nearly went out of his mind with worry over the child. He’s obsessed with having an heir now.”

  “Martin loves me.”

  Dolly gave a gloating smile. “Don’t be such a little fool. Do you think he would have married you if you were not with child? I can’t have children, you see.”

  Be
th’s heart froze over.

  “He doesn’t love you.” Dolly’s lips twisted. “Isn’t capable of such an emotion now, but once, a few years ago, he loved me.”

  “Liar, he loves me, he…”

  “Takes you to bed at every opportunity? My dear.” Dolly’s laugh held no mirth. “Martin is a lusty devil who’ll take as many women as he can get, any time, any place.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Grow up, my dear. Do you think he slept alone while you were gone?”

  “You’re a liar. He wouldn’t do such a foul thing.”

  “Ask him. I’m going to the library to read for a while.”

  Dolly turned away, glided out of the room and left Beth in turmoil. Would he? Of course not. No decent man would even contemplate such a filthy act.

  Her head pounded now and she felt suddenly weak and ill. She dragged herself up the stairs. Obviously, she had got out of bed far too soon.

  The door to the pink room stood ajar, and a team of wild horses could not have stopped her from entering. It appeared surprisingly tidy, the bed made up, no clothes left lying around.

  An open carpetbag stood in the corner and she peeped inside. Feeling despicable, she went through the contents. Frothy, almost see through nightgowns, and a couple of day gowns. Nothing incriminating there.

  “Are these what you’re searching for?” Dolly entered the room, waving a bundle of letters tied with pink ribbon.

  Beth’s cheeks burned. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be, I’d have done the same thing in your position. I told you Martin and I have been close for years.” She peeled a letter off. “Care to read this?”

  Beth shook her head and backed away, but Dolly shoved it into her hand.

  After opening up the letter, Beth wished with all her heart that she hadn’t.

  “They’re in order, the first written about ten years ago, the last, not so long ago.” Dolly gave a smug smile.