Ghost Gum Valley

by Johanna Nicholls

  Marmaduke then faced the moment he must apologise for the inability of his star entertainer to appear.

  From the stage Marmaduke paid a glowing tribute to the gifts of the American Nightingale. He was just about to fabricate an excuse for her non arrival when his eye caught a flash of scarlet moving through the garden towards him.

  ‘I am now proud to present to you an artiste whose magical voice will be remembered by all who hear her. The American Nightingale, my dear friend, Madame Josepha St John!’

  And as all faces turned in the direction in which he gestured, on perfect cue a heavenly voice broke into a thrillingly sustained high note. And there, walking through the garden towards them, her arms outstretched as if to hold them all in her embrace, was the magnificent Josepha St John, swathed in gold-striped red velvet that generously revealed enough of her pale arms and generous bosom to showcase the legendary ‘diamonds’.

  What a woman! Trust Josepha to make an unforgettable entrance.

  Isabel’s place at the pianoforte was smoothly taken by Federico and the enthralling performance held the audience spellbound.

  Isabel was now free to sit back and enjoy the performance but Marmaduke froze when he saw the expression on her face.

  Isabel was exhausted. Marmaduke’s idea for them all to entertain Rose Alba was lovely in theory but this concert needed a week’s rehearsal. What did Marmaduke expect of her as an accompanist with no one to turn the pages? I’m not Mozart or Beethoven! I’m a woman only weeks away from giving birth. And trying to pretend I don’t know that my house burnt down. Nobody tells me anything! And now I’m face to face with the gorgeous Josepha St John and I look like a dumpling!

  Her eyes filled with tears of frustration that turned to anger when Josepha drew Marmaduke on stage to sing a passionate aria to him. He looked as lithe and boyish as Romeo. When Josepha plucked the scarlet flower from her bosom and gave it to Marmaduke – he kissed the flower! It didn’t matter to Isabel that the lyrics of Josepha’s song involved two lovers whom fate had forced to part forever.

  Isabel felt white-hot with fury.

  That’s my husband you’re making love to – you female predator!

  She was just about to gather up her skirts and cross to Garnet’s side to sit with Rose Alba when she felt taken over by a sudden, inexplicable change of mood. The frightening drop in temperature she had known all her life was a warning of the appearance of the Other.

  Rose Alba was not in her place but she had seen Marmaduke lead her to the wings to watch Josepha’s act and be ready to lead the audience in singing, ‘God Save the King’ at the conclusion of the concert.

  Logic told her that Rose Alba was safe under Marmaduke’s eye, but Isabel’s instincts were stronger than logic. All the sounds around her seemed to fade. Her senses acutely attuned like a deer that smells danger. Something was terribly wrong – and it wasn’t in the little theatre. It was something out of sight. In the garden.

  Unable to cry out Isabel picked up her skirts and ran towards the rose garden.

  Garnet looked around his domain. He felt sure that if it weren’t for his curiosity to hold the coming babe in his arms, he could die a happy man at that moment. Everything I have ever wanted is within easy reach – thanks to iIabel. Even an uneasy truce with Marmaduke.

  All in his world, bond and free, were riveted by the diva’s performance on stage. Garnet returned Rose Alba’s excited wave as she hurried from the wings, headed for the house hand in hand with Black Mary.

  Garnet was not surprised. The little poppet’s been beating a track to the water closet all morning. Obedient child. Remembering not to go anywhere unaccompanied.

  Rose Alba had only taken a few days to steal his heart. Her engaging mind and sunny smile had brought love and laughter into the house he had built in the vain hope of raising a family of Miranda’s children. The house that had attracted nothing but recriminations, anger, betrayal, tragedy and years of bitter estrangement from the son he loved more than his own life. Isabel had made a man of Marmaduke.

  Garnet was startled to find himself sending up a begrudging, sideways prayer for the first time in years.

  There must be a God up there somewhere. Just when I decided He didn’t give a damn about me, He brought Isabel into my life, the babe she and Marmaduke created and that little girl I will love as my own kin. I hate to admit it after all the bad cards you’ve thrown at me, God – this day was worth waiting for.

  But the thought was no sooner in his head than he had a premonition that everything was about to change. Why? Everyone seemed to be in place. Isabel was intently watching Marmaduke on stage – revelling in his role as the focus of the diva’s love song. Damn it all, I suppose it’s not unreasonable that he has inherited a theatrical gene or two from that damned Klaus von Starbold.

  Garnet told himself that the Hessian who had stolen Miranda’s heart was dead. And he was alive.

  He was just about to join the audience’s wild applause when his eye was caught by the distant figure in the garden. He froze. That face. He strained his eyes to focus on it. And then with slow certainty he knew that the past had come back to haunt him.

  Garnet was outraged that God had created a man who was so handsome, so noble in bearing that it gave no hint to the evil of his mind. The man who had given false evidence at his trial.

  Blinded by fury and gasping for breath, Garnet rose and broke into a run. Silas de Rolland was in his rose garden! Bold as you please. Not a moment to lose. The villain was walking away from him, smiling down into the eyes of a little girl he held by the hand...Rose Alba Gamble.

  Isabel was confused to find the rose garden deserted. She stumbled along the path towards the house. At the sight of Black Mary returning with a platter of food for the guests, Isabel grabbed hold of her with shaking hands.

  ‘Where is she, where’s Rose Alba? I saw her leave with you.’

  The Aboriginal girl was wide-eyed with fear at Isabel’s unexplained rage. She mumbled something inaudible about ‘the gentleman’.

  ‘What gentleman? What did he look like?”

  ‘Like you, ma’am. He asked the child to show him the white rose garden. The gentleman told the child you wouldn’t mind – he was her cousin.’

  Silas! Isabel ran towards the white rose garden feeling she was trapped in one of her own nightmares. If she concentrated hard enough she could make herself wake up. Until she saw the carriage in the turning circle in front of the house and knew the truth. Nothing could ever wake her.

  The man waiting in the driver’s seat. The same man who had driven her to the London docks and made sure she boarded the Susan. Cooper, Silas’s henchman. The pugilist forced to work for him because Silas held the evidence he was wanted for murder. He now wore a metal shield over his nose.

  Isabel screamed out to him. ‘Cooper, for pity’s sake, tell me what Silas has done with my daughter!’

  Cooper frowned but turned his head away.

  It was then she saw a movement inside the carriage. Silas sat with Rose Alba beside him, his gloved hand covered the child’s whole face except for her terrified eyes.

  Silas’s voice was silky, gentle. Were his words an echo of the past inside her head? Or were they alive and happening right now?

  Silas looked at Isabel then stroked the child’s hair. ‘What a pretty little girl you are, sweetheart.’

  Isabel’s mind went blank with horror. She froze, locked in a space between her childhood memories and the present. For a moment she stood transfixed, sick in the stomach as Silas gently tilted Rose Alba’s face to make her look into his eyes.

  ‘When you grow up, I will ask you to marry me.’

  Isabel saw her fear reflected in Rose Alba’s eyes and knew exactly what the child was thinking, feeling.

  Rose Alba broke the spell. She twisted her face away from his hands.

  ‘Let me go!’

  A wave of cold rage drove Isabel. She hurled herself at the carriage, her foot on the step, her hands
gripping the open windowframe of the door, unable to open it.

  ‘Let go of her! I won’t let you ruin her life as you did mine.’

  Silas smiled at her through the window and gave her a look of appraisal.

  ‘I don’t need you any more, Isabel,’ he said softly, ‘you have grown too old.’

  He wrapped his cane against the side of the carriage. ‘Drive on, Cooper!’

  Isabel screamed out Marmaduke’s name then yelled at Rose Alba.

  ‘I won’t ever leave you!’

  They all turned at the roar of a man’s voice. Garnet Gamble was racing towards them brandishing a duelling pistol. He stopped short, saw the whole situation so aimed his pistol at Cooper.

  ‘One move and you’re a dead man!’

  Rose Alba’s clear voice screamed Marmaduke’s name in a high-pitched chant of desperation. Isabel clung to the door, one foot still on the step as the horses pawed the ground in agitation. She didn’t know how long she could manage to cling to the carriage but when Cooper pulled the horses to a sharp halt despite Silas’s orders, she seized the moment and managed to climb inside. She clawed Silas’s face with both hands.

  ‘Run, little one, run home!’

  When Rose Alba jumped free from the carriage Isabel smiled despite the pain when Silas’s cane struck her face.

  Rose Alba ran past Garnet screaming Marmaduke’s name.

  Marmaduke leapt down from the stage the moment he saw Isabel leave and realised that Garnet was running in the same direction. Then he heard Rose Alba calling his name. He ran to the carriage where Garnet was yelling blue murder and waving a pistol in frustration, afraid to fire at Silas in case he hit Isabel.

  Marmaduke lifted Isabel free from the carriage and held her in his arms but his eyes were fixed on the face of the man inside the carriage, who was banging his cane on the roof and ordering Cooper to drive on.

  Cooper sat with folded arms, refusing to budge.

  ‘Changed sides have you?’ Marmaduke asked.

  Cooper looked at Marmaduke fearlessly and jerked his head at his master. ‘I’m armed. He’s not. I’ve done all his dirty work. I can kill a man and sleep nights. But I don’t hurt no little girls.’

  ‘I believe you.’ Marmaduke said. Thank Christ for Newgate “thieves’ honour”’.

  People were running around like a disturbed hornet’s nest but keeping a healthy distance from the carriage. Only Edwin, Murray and Rhys drew closer.

  Marmaduke glanced back at Rose Alba, who was the calm in the eye of the storm beside Queenie. Garnet waved a pistol, almost incoherent with rage but threatening to fight Silas de Rolland. Bridget shouted at him not to be a fool and Amaru screeched his head off.

  Josepha St John stood a little apart from all of them, staring at Silas, her face a white mask of fury.

  Marmaduke knew this was the moment he must sublimate his rage until the time he needed to let it rip.

  As Silas de Rolland made a languid gesture to Josepha to enter the carriage, Marmaduke saw the hands of his enemy were finely shaped, elegant. He felt sickened to think these same hands had caressed and abused the child Isabel. That the mouth now curled in faint amusement was the mouth that had kissed the child Isabel and seduced her with adult passion and lies that had destroyed her innocence – and was now ready to corrupt Rose Alba.

  Edwin hurried to Marmaduke’s side ahead of Rhys Powell and Murray Robertson. Marmaduke wanted his family safe and to shield them from what was to come.

  ‘Queenie, take Isabel and the child upstairs. I leave them in your hands. They could be suffering from shock.’

  If Isabel loses the babe I’ll have Silas hanged, drawn and quartered and his head on a pike at the front gate.

  With Federico at her heels Josepha moved towards him with intent. Marmaduke was not sure where her loyalties lay. Her luminous dark eyes searched his face, as if memorising it feature by feature. She said the words in a throaty stage whisper.

  ‘Do whatever you have to do, my darling. But handle yourself with care. They don’t make men like you any more.’

  Marmaduke held her eyes as he kissed her hand then beckoned to Cooper, who had turned his back on his master.

  ‘If you see Madame St John safely wherever she chooses to go – I’ll give you a job. No questions asked.’

  Cooper hesitated. ‘I believe you.’

  Marmaduke pulled Silas from the carriage then helped the diva inside it with Federico and nodded when she gave the order, ‘To Sydney Town!’

  Everyone had dispersed except for Edwin, Rhys and Murray. Marmaduke knew the moment had arrived.

  ‘Silas de Rolland, this day has been a long time coming. The man who lives to see the end of it is never going to forget it.’

  The handsome face was the epitome of arrogance. But Marmaduke saw that the pupils of his eyes were strangely cloudy. There was a musty, spice-like smell about him that reminded him of an Eastern bazaar. Laudanum.

  ‘Silas eyed him with contempt. ‘You must be as insane as your criminal father if you think you can challenge a de Rolland. Who do you think you are?’

  ‘I’m the man who’s going to kill you, mate.’

  ‘Afraid to face me in court, eh? Afraid the law would never convict me on the word of Colonial scum?’

  Edwin stepped forwards, his voice cold with authority. ‘I’m the Gambles’ barrister. I have enough evidence of the crimes you’ve committed in this Colony to send you to Norfolk Island for the term of your natural – correction un-natural – life!’

  Marmaduke knew the words were a bluff. Murray kept his pistol trained on Silas as Edwin drew Marmaduke aside.

  ‘We are all witnesses to what de Rolland did tonight. I beg you, Marmaduke, for once allow British law to deliver justice.’

  Marmaduke was adamant. ‘Too many men of Quality get away with blue murder in this Colony. The crimes this bastard committed against Mendoza, Mingaletta – and little girls is only our word against his. If we claimed attempted abduction of a Rose Alba he’d say he was just taking his little cousin for a drive – no law against that. You know the mongrel would get off with a slap on the wrist!’

  ‘Let me shoot the bugger,’ Garnet demanded. ‘I’ve done time before. I can survive.’

  Silas de Rolland looked amused. ‘By all means try, Gamble. You’re only fit for Bedlam anyway.’

  Before Edwin could calm Garnet, Marmaduke saw Silas’s smug expression and lost control of his pent-up rage.

  ‘Bugger the law! You’re on my property. I make the rules here! Cop this!’

  Marmaduke struck him forcibly across the mouth then delivered a backhander that drew blood.

  ‘I’ve publicly insulted you in front of three witnesses, including a barrister. I’m giving you three choices, de Rolland.

  ‘One. A voyage. A Greek sea captain who hates paedophiles as much as I do can dump you on a desert island for life. Two. If you’re too much of a gentleman to fight me, I’ll just have to shoot you down like a mad dog with rabies. Three. We can play this out on the duelling field. That gives us both an even chance to kill each other. It’s your choice.’

  Silas de Rolland shrugged. ‘Very well, pistols. I’ve nothing better to do this afternoon. But before I attend your funeral I’ll give you a lesson in how a gentleman conducts himself in a duel. Spare me one of your raggle-taggle Colonial duels. Like the one you fought in vain defence of your mother’s dishonour.’

  Marmaduke was thrown off guard but Garnet gave a bull-like roar as he hurled himself at Silas. It took all four of them to restrain him bodily.

  ‘Trust me, Father. I’ll take care of this cur.’ He turned to Silas. ‘You may have noble ancestors, de Rolland, but for all your pretensions you’re the daggy end of the line. You’re free to leave amuse yourself with laudanum. And make your Will. At ten tomorrow morning Rhys Powell will escort you to the place we’ll meet.’

  Marmaduke added, ‘Don’t even think about bolting. If you’re yellow enough to try, I’ll hunt you down
wherever you go. You’ll be the laughing stock of the Colony.’ He turned to Murray. ‘Get the man a horse,’ he said and turned his back on Silas de Roland and walked away.

  Inside the house Marmaduke had Edwin draw up a fresh Will that included his children and had it witnessed and signed.

  Edwin gave a sigh of resignation. ‘You realise, Marmaduke, what will happen if you kill a second man in a duel, albeit under great provocation?’

  ‘Yeah, mate, I’ll be socially ostracised. Never get invited to dine at Government House. What a crying shame that’d be, eh?’

  They exchanged a grim smile. Both knew it was bravado.

  Chapter 55

  Isabel woke with fright, her body damp with sweat. The sound of kookaburras’ laughter mocked the night terrors she had just escaped. The image was so vivid that she was still uncertain whether she had been dreaming or actually visited by the Other. The figure of a man wearing a long black hooded cloak had stood at the foot of her bed. It was the same face she had seen watching her that day on the bank of the river. Klaus von Starbold.

  Queenie woke up in the chair in which she had been guarding Isabel all night. When Isabel described her dream, she felt chilled by Queenie’s calm acceptance.

  ‘Yes. Klaus was here last night. I heard his heels click together as he bowed to you. Don’t worry, Isabel. He was a man of honour in life. His shade would not hurt you,’ Queenie said firmly. ‘It isn’t their way. Ghosts only return when they have unfinished business.’

  ‘Is that why Miranda comes back to you?’

  Queenie sighed. ‘Perhaps I’m selfish. I don’t want her to leave me.’

  Isabel crossed to the open door and felt her throat constrict at the sight of the sleeping child. ‘Even after everything that happened to her yesterday she looks so peaceful.’

  ‘That child is most resilient. She was born to be happy.’

  Isabel insisted on dressing, determined to go downstairs to find Marmaduke, but she made Queenie promise to remain at Rose Alba’s side until the child woke.