There was no one else close enough to overhear but Isabel whispered it anyway. ‘Our bed is far too big without you, darling.’
The response she was counting on was not forthcoming so she added, ‘My temper flares like a rocket, so stand warned.’
‘Tell me something new,’ he said mildly.
Isabel handed him a wicker basket and drew him to a secluded corner of the bush where she quickly spread out a picnic.
Sprawled in the shade of a Bloodwood tree, Marmaduke tilted his hat to shield his eyes from the sun. Or was it to disguise his thoughts?
At last, overcome by hunger and curiosity he began to poke around in the bundles of food wrapped in fine cotton squares. He ate and drank without comment until Isabel snapped.
‘Have you taken a vow of silence?’
‘You want to tell me why you’re really here, soldier? A tour of inspection? Or a report back to Garnet from his latest informer?’
She was stung by the word used contemptuously about those who betrayed bolters.
‘That’s unfair. I wanted to find out what was taking so long to build my new home. Why you are still sulking?’
Let’s hope that draws blood...oh my God, Vesuvius is going to blow its top!
He sat bolt upright. ‘Sulking! You haven’t the remotest idea, have you? In the space of one day I discovered my whole existence is a flaming lie. Nothing is real. Not my name, my age, my birth. Everyone I loved or hated is the reverse of what I believed. My mother wasn’t exactly the perfect lady. The rapist I killed in a duel wasn’t a villain but my true father who lived and died by his own code of honour. And I’m not Garnet Gamble’s son and heir. So who am I? A cuckoo in the nest who’s forced to share Garnet’s name and the boundary line of Mingaletta with a manipulative bastard I never want to set eyes on again!’
Marmaduke had run out of steam but not of anger. ‘I thought you’d understand what it feels like to have your whole childhood gutted.’
Marmaduke lay back and jammed this hat back over his eyes. Isabel sat with her arms wrapped around her knees to disguise her trembling limbs.
Well, that certainly did the trick. The boil is lanced. What do I say now?
‘Thank you for sharing your feelings. I’m sorry I inferred you were a sulky little boy. I can imagine your shock. But now you’ve had time to think it through you must see there’s a big difference between us.’
‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘you’re the one who’s pregnant.’
I know you’re hurting but you’re not going to deflect me. I’m not leaving without saying what I came to say.
‘You hated being Garnet’s son but now you’re shocked to find he isn’t your father by blood. I’m truly sorry you had a miserable childhood and that you were caught in the middle of a family war. So was I. But there’s a big difference between us. You had four people – your mother, Queenie and two fathers – who all loved you and wanted you. I was an orphan taken in under sufferance. I’d have felt blessed to have just one person I could count on to love and protect me.’
Marmaduke took his time to answer. ‘Well, you do now, soldier.’
Her heart leapt. His words sounded tender but his rage was far from exhausted.
She tried again. ‘One positive thing came out of all this. You were afraid to become a father in case Garnet’s illness was hereditary. That’s one fear removed. But I believe Garnet will be a devoted grandfather and—’
‘Hey! Don’t think you can sweet talk me into waving an olive branch. Garnet’s years of manipulation are over. I’ll never enter his damned mansion again as long as I live!’
‘Manipulation? What a hypocrite you are! Rose Alba arrived in Port Jackson weeks ago, yet I’m the last to know! What gave you the right to keep us apart?’
Isabel was breathless with anger. Marmaduke waited for her to cool down.
‘Quarantine. The kid’s been out of bounds, that’s why. Next question?’
Isabel gasped in fright. ‘Quarantine? What’s wrong with Rose Alba, is she all right? She’s so fragile. And my aunt? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have rushed to Sydney!’
‘That’s why I didn’t tell you! Quarantine laws are strict. All you could do was wave your handkerchief from across the street. I’ve had them both under the care of Dr Bland and paid women to nurse them at the Princess Alexandrina. If you’d come within coo-ee of their sick room you’d have copped their fever and dropped your foal too early for it to survive. Then you’d have blamed me for my not wanting it!’
He eyed the curve of her belly. ‘Well, you’re half right. I didn’t want it to begin with, but I’m not taking any chances of losing you. It’s taken me a whole flaming year to break you in as a wife. I wouldn’t be caught dead marrying you again for all the diamonds in King Solomon’s mines!’
That said, Marmaduke lay back and jerked the brim of his hat back over his eyes.
Isabel digested his words. ‘I suspect there was a Currency compliment buried in there somewhere. You still haven’t told me how soon I can go to Sydney to see them.’
‘You can’t!’ he said firmly. ‘When I tried to take you to Sydney to put you under Doc Bland’s care until the birth, you went off like a firecracker! Wanted Queenie to deliver the goods here at Mingaletta. Now you’ve gone and put paid to the surprise I’d planned for you.’
‘What surprise?’
‘I’ve been breaking my neck to finish this place so Thomas can drive them down here with Edwin. If you behave yourself you’ll see Rose Alba and your Aunty by sundown Friday.’
‘In a week? Oh, darling, I’m truly sorry I misjudged you.’ Isabel raised his hand to her lips and covered it with kisses.
Marmaduke gave a half-cocked smile. ‘Hey, fair crack of the whip. Most of these blokes haven’t had their paws on a woman in years. Don’t want to get them too excited.’
Isabel looked at him with love, his image shimmering through the film of her tears.
Marmaduke shook his head. ‘There are times I really regret teaching you how to cry.’
‘Don’t. That was the most wonderful night of my life.’
‘Yeah?’ Marmaduke ruefully rubbed the stubble on his chin and his voice was as soft and dark as if they were in bed. ‘Lady, that was just for starters. I’ve got a lot more tricks up my sleeve.’
He pulled her to her feet. ‘Come on. Seeing as you’re here I’d better give you a quick look at the place. It’s bigger than the original plans.’
Isabel followed him through the skeleton of the house, exclaiming with admiration over those rooms which had four walls, and the remaining shells that only had windows anchored in place between the beams. She responded to his plans with eager questions, feeling moved by his offhand pride and his anxiety to please her.
‘Of course, it’s as rough as hell at the moment, but you won’t know the place in a couple of weeks. Once it’s painted and papered. There’ll be plenty of room for your aunt,’ he added casually, ‘and both the kiddies.’
‘It’s a wonderful house, Marmaduke. I’m so proud of you. Didn’t I tell you that you could do anything you set your mind to? At last you really will be the master of Mingaletta – doesn’t that have a grand ring to it?’
‘Yeah. Not half bad.’
‘You know why I want to give birth to our babe in this house? To replace all the sad, bad memories of things that happened here. I want to bring joy into your home.’
Marmaduke drew her into the crook of his arm and Isabel had no doubt that their truce was signed in his hungry kiss. She also knew her other mission had failed. There was no chance of his making peace with Garnet Gamble.
Chapter 51
Marmaduke climbed back onto the roof of the house and watched Isabel ride away. She turned in the saddle and waved to him like a child. Marmaduke felt a longing to call her back to his side and never let her out of his sight again.
Working all afternoon, unmindful of the sun, he hardly felt the hot wind burning his face. His mind replayed the words o
f Isabel’s arguments. His pride rejected some of them his love retained others to warm him. ‘Our bed is far too big without you, darling.’
Despite his ironclad refusal to return to Bloodwood Hall and see Garnet, Marmaduke began to feel a reluctant touch of pity for any man whose beloved wife made him the cuckold in a triangle.
As he began to see himself in a new light, a child caught at the heart of three passionate adults Hell-bent on messing up their lives, he was reminded of one of the key tenets in the wisdom of Freemasonry.
A Mason must keep his passions and prejudices within due bounds. I reckon for me that’s gunna be a lifelong occupation!
He gave a wry smile at the thought that since Isabel had crept into his heart and taken up residence there, the unthinkable had happened. He now had no trouble focusing all his sexual drive on one woman. He was afraid to touch her now she was with child, but tried to content himself with fantasies of making love to her.
Isabel had not mentioned Silas de Rolland but Marmaduke’s anxiety was aggravated by Davey’s sighting of his carriage and the ever present knowledge that Penkivil Park was only a few miles away. The man’s lack of contact didn’t align with what Marmaduke knew of the nature of the beast.
His mind kept revolving around his desire for revenge, to meet Silas de Rolland face to face and challenge him. Legally he had no recourse by which to bring Silas to justice for his abuse of Isabel as a child. Marmaduke knew that the acts which in his eyes were clearly sexual abuse of a minor were not covered by British law. The age of consent was twelve and it was not uncommon for rape cases in the Colony involving adult men and girls of eight or nine to be dropped because females, even children, were considered guilty of enticing men to have intercourse.
Was a second murder disguised as a duel the only way to stop Silas stalking Isabel? Fate had tricked him into killing Klaus von Starbold, an act he must live with for the rest of his life. He was ready to kill Silas but what would happen to Isabel and his babe if he should be the one to die? Silas would claim them!
‘Never!’ he cried out aloud.
I refuse to die. Silas doesn’t deserve to live, but does that give me the right to play God? Shit, I’m beginning to feel like Hamlet! Life was a Hell of a lot easier when I was young and stupid and didn’t stop to weigh the consequences.
At sundown Marmaduke watched Garnet’s assigned men troop back to their cabins at Bloodwood Hall. As usual he cooked a meal over the campfire but his eye was repeatedly drawn to the section of the ruined house beneath the foundations of the new building. For the first time Marmaduke saw the scene vividly in his mind as if from the other side of the mirror. His mother lying naked in the arms of her lover – his true father.
Marmaduke crossed to the door where the padlock hung open on the sprocket. The cellar was in darkness. In the doorway he struck a match and lit the stub of a candle, causing a fragile web of shadows to bounce off the walls.
The open door allowed a cool draft of air inside as Marmaduke re-entered the past, seeking to free himself as a man from a boy’s memories.
He now knew this was not the scene of his mother’s rape but her final desperate act of love with her lover – their farewell.
Marmaduke lost all sense of time but finally he knew he had found it – a sense of peace with the past.
They were young, consumed by passion. No matter how badly it all went wrong, I should be grateful to them. They gave me my life.
With a sense of shock he realised the dual significance of Klaus von Starbold’s dying words, ‘You do not take my life – I give you yours.’
Marmaduke wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and was about to leave when he heard the sound of an approaching horse. Heavy footsteps were followed by something that caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stiffen – the unmistakeable pungent smell of kerosene.
He charged towards the door ready to hurl himself at the man and foil his plan. He glimpsed a thick-set torso. A battered face. The flash of moonlight on a metal triangle shielding the nose. Silas de Rolland’s henchman!
The man lit a match that threw his face into sharp relief, scowling to find he was not alone. Seconds before Marmaduke reached the door a beefy arm slammed the door shut. Marmaduke let out a bellow of rage at the metallic sound of the padlock being locked in place.
Marmaduke threw his full body weight against the door in a series of violent blows that rattled the door and would eventually break it down, but there wasn’t time enough. He heard the man’s laboured grunts and the crackling of flames.
Now there were two men’s voices. The rough Cockney voice called out, ‘We got company, sir, in there!’
From a distance came the languid, mildly amused accent of an English gentleman. ‘How very convenient. You take care of things, Cooper. Must return to my guests...’
The voice faded as a horse rode away.
Just like that mongrel to leave his henchman to do his dirty work for him.
Only minutes remained to act. Flames would leap hungrily from room to room and burn the house to the ground. A thin trail of smoke filtered through the slit beneath the door. His lungs would soon fill with acrid smoke and choke the life out of him.
The plan was so bizarre he almost laughed. Death by suffocation. Jesus, I came to this cellar to lay the family ghosts. Instead it’s gunna be my tomb!
Wracked by a fit of coughing, Marmaduke tried to control his panic. In a desperate attempt to drag air into his lungs, he sank to his knees, every instinct of survival fighting against the knowledge he was done for. It was then he saw it – or did he?
The thing outlined by the flickering light of the candle was a dark shadow on the wall, the outline of a man’s outstretched hand pointing to the floor in the corner – a small patch of grey. He crawled towards the light and felt a draught of air through a hole at ground level, perhaps just big enough to force his body through...
Mustering a final burst of energy Marmaduke dragged himself towards it. As he hunched his shoulders and began to thrust his body through the opening, he was almost sure he heard it. A familiar, oddly comforting sound he remembered – the sharp click of heeled boots, von Starbold’s mark of approval when he bowed to his young student in tribute to his success.
The face of the moon was clouded by smoke. Flames leapt and crackled like spears pointed at the night sky, showering the air with burning fragments like pollen blowing on the wind. Fire devoured the timber, raging in control, no longer in need of the arsonist’s fuel.
Marmaduke knew it was all over. Mingaletta was lost. By dawn it would be a smouldering black ruin. Two dreams were dead: his mother’s and his own. He had wanted to create a safe refuge for Isabel. Failure tasted as bitter as gall.
Torn and bruised, struggling from the cellar, Marmaduke shielded his eyes from the flames as he ran to the gunyah to arm himself. His weapon was gone.
The click of a cocked pistol caused him to spin around, face to face with the man with the tin nose. Cooper pointed his gun at him. The irony wasn’t wasted on Marmaduke – he realised he was the target of his own pistol. His was conscious how cold his hands were. The same icy chill he had felt minutes before the duel.
He looked Cooper in the eye. Unarmed and faced with death Marmaduke had little choice. He took a gamble on wounding the older man’s ego.
‘I’d rather fight the puppeteer who pulls your strings, Cooper, but seeing as you’re the bloke who struck the match for the bonfire – you’ll do!’
Cooper hesitated before jerking his head towards the burning house.
‘That’s me master’s business. I ain’t got no personal grudge against you. No call to kill you unless you force me hand.’
‘I’m not armed.’ Marmaduke raised his hands to confirm it. ‘If you’re a real man and not just the organ grinder’s monkey, you’ll give me satisfaction. Chance it! Fight me man to man. Or have you turned coward in your old age?’
Cooper grunted. ‘Want to be a dead hero, do you?’
/> ‘Let’s find out!’
Marmaduke seized the moment. He lunged at lightning speed, dislodged the pistol from Cooper’s fist and sent it flying sky-high to land somewhere in the bush.
‘Now we’re even, mate. Come and get me!’ Marmaduke beckoned him with both hands, shifting his weight from foot to foot, shaping up to fight him.
Cooper was furious but confident. ‘You want to put money on that?’
The Cockney grunted and began to feint and spring on the balls of his feet. Surprise registered in his eyes when Marmaduke’s first blow caught him off guard, dislodging the metal nose guard from his face and sending it flying with a metallic ring onto the ground.
Marmaduke gave an involuntary flinch at the gaping hole where the nose had been eaten away by disease. The wound was repugnant but sympathy was misplaced. This brute had savaged Josiah Mendoza, an elderly man so gentle he even said a Hebrew prayer before he killed a Redback spider.
Marmaduke sized up his opponent’s fighting style while careful to dance out of range of the first jabs that came his way.
Shit! He’s no spring chicken but he’s built as tough as a British man-o’-war.
Marmaduke taunted him. ‘You sure picked a rum boss cocky. Didn’t Silas de Rolland warn you? In this Colony arson’s a crime on a par with murder. Burn a bloke’s house down, you end up dancing on the scaffold.’
Marmaduke’s next telling punch was to Cooper’s belly and drew a barrage of blows that signalled to Marmaduke exactly what he was up against – a trained pugilist.
Knowing he was outclassed, Marmaduke fought on, driven by rage and frustration. He imagined the faceless de Rolland kinsman who had stolen Isabel’s childhood and now, piece by piece, was demolishing every facet of Marmaduke’s world.
Cheated of fighting the true villain, Marmaduke slugged it out with his henchman.
Ghost Gum Valley Page 52