Unto Death

by Lena West

  “I doan know, Mr Fortescue. Mam wouldna let me see. I think tis the missus. Leastways it were in 'er room up ta the 'ouse after we all went orf ta bed. The shots woke us up, and Mam and Ned run ta see.”

  “It sounds like a bad situation. Your mother did right to send for me as well as the police, Lad. Will, you and Stephen come with me. Bridget, Lucy, girls,” Deirdre and Colleen were peeking round the kitchen door by then.

  “You might as well all go to bed. It'll be hours before we'll be back with news. Lock the doors in case there's a murderer on the loose.”

  In a matter of minutes the men had changed into work clothes and were striding off to the stables to saddle up, Josh trailing along behind them.

  Bridget rounded on her daughters.

  “You heard the boss. Off to bed, the pair of you. There's no point hanging about gossiping. We're not likely to hear anything more till morning.”

  She gave Lucy a steely-eyed glare, but stopped short of ordering her off as well.

  “It's a bad business, Mrs Lucy, and no two ways about it. I'll set out the makings for tea and toast for the men if they're home before daylight, but there's nothing else you or I can do, except lock up like the boss said.”

  “No, I suppose there isn't.”

  Lucy made a pot of chamomile tea to settle her nerves, and wandered back to drink it in her sitting room.

  Isabella Cummings shot?

  It seemed quite fantastical. So much so, she simply couldn't take it in. It felt awfully callous of her, and undoubtedly, she was more than a little lacking in compassion, or maybe it was simply because it was not yet real to her, but that damned menace of a woman couldn't even get herself killed without coming between Stephen and herself.

  It was grossly unfair. The timing of this dreadful interruption, just at the very moment the two of them were finally sorting out their problems so satisfactorily, was utterly frustrating.

  Even though she knew speculation was pointless without more information, she couldn't help wondering. Who had shot Isabella? The thought of doing so had crossed her own mind more than once, but only as a way of venting her spleen, never as something she would actually do. But according to Josh, someone had.

  Was it the same man who attacked me? She wondered. Maybe that attack was completely random, the work of a madman who has struck again; not Isabella's fault at all.

  The questions kept circling round and round in her head.

  Her cup empty, Lucy went to bed for lack of anything of a practical nature she could do.

  Against all her expectations, she fell into a deep sleep, holding on to the precious memory of her husband telling her he loved her. That same memory was still uppermost in her mind when she woke suddenly. Sitting up with a start, she was about to call out when she recognised a familiar silhouette framed against the moonlit window.

  “It's alright Lu. Just me.”

  “Stephen.”

  Lucy squinted at the clock on her bedside table. Its luminous hands were showing a time still a few minutes short of midnight.

  “I wasn't expecting you back so soon. Can you tell me what happened?”

  Sitting up with a pillow at her back, she made herself comfortable, then held the covers open, inviting him to join her in the bed. His voice had sounded rather shaky. When he scrambled onto the bed, gathering her into an uncomfortably tight embrace, she could feel him trembling.

  “It was horrible, Lucy. Really horrible. There was blood and brains and other stuff everywhere. In splashes up the wall, and all over the bed and the floor. I've never seen anything like it, and hope to God I never have to again.”

  Fresh tremors shook his body, and Lucy was sure she felt him gulp back a sob. She rubbed his back and pulled his head down onto her shoulder, smoothing the hair back from his forehead.

  Soon in command of his faculties once more, Stephen became more coherent.

  “Dad reckons Archibald came home earlier than expected. He must have found Isabella in bed with Jake Saunders, their overseer, both of them completely naked. Not much imagination needed to know what was going on there. But Jake? An ex-convict? Not that that necessarily means much here in Australia, I suppose, but he was a real roughneck. I wouldn't have thought he was Isabella's type at all.”

  Lucy only just managed not to shake him, hearing the outraged, unconsciously possessive tone of his voice.

  “Anyway, Lu, Archibald shot Jake in the back of the head first, then he fired two shots through Isabella's heart. He must have pulled a chair over to the bed and sat there a couple of minutes. Mrs Watson said there was a gap after the first three shots which were close together. They'd almost reached the back door when they heard the last shot. Archibald was sitting there holding Isabella's hand and he put the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger.”

  Stephen was shaking again by the time he finished. Lucy held him close, rocking him till he was calm once more.

  “Dad got everyone back out and locked the door till the police arrive. There was nothing anyone could do, so he sent Will and me home. He said he didn't want me anywhere around, in case the police heard that old gossip connecting me to Isabella and made more of it than there was.”

  Face pressed into Lucy's shoulder, his next words were so muffled, she almost missed them.

  “All I could think of was how it could have been me. Just when I've seen the future I want, with you, I almost had no future at all. I've been such a fool, Lu.”

  They sat in silence, a silence in which Stephen's words seemed to reverberate in Lucy's brain. She felt frozen; helpless; unable to think or speak, let alone act. The old anger flooded over her then ebbed, leaving her empty. Stephen sat beside Lucy, his arms no longer holding her.

  She had known, she reminded herself. She had known for ages, so why did it come as such a shock to hear it from Stephen's own lips? Lucy shivered, missing the warmth of his arms.

  “It was so nearly me, instead of Jake Saunders. It would have been if not for you, Lucy. I was about to tell you when Josh came to get us. Can you bear to hear it all now? I know it's selfish of me, but I don't think I can sleep with everything going around and around in my head.”

  Lucy didn’t think she could bear to sleep either. Not till she got to the bottom of the sorry tale. For just a moment, she forgot he’d claimed to love her now.

  “If you can bear to tell it, I can surely bear to listen, Stephen. Can I get you anything before you start?”

  “No. No thank you Lu. Mrs Watson gave us all tea and a shot of brandy. I just want to get it off my chest. Before we left I told you how I've grown to love you. It's the truth, Lu. Please don't forget it, or ever doubt it. Now for the rest.”

  Stephen gulped in a great lungful of air, steeling himself to expose his folly.

  “I fell, and fell hard, for Isabella the first time I saw her. I believed then what I felt was love. It was a kind of madness which took control of me; body, mind and soul. She only had to command and I'd be running to do her bidding. She initiated our affair, and I was hers completely, even though I knew what we were doing was wrong. When people began talking, Dad tried to get me to see sense.”

  Lucy tentatively lay her hand upon his.

  “That was when he started talking about how much better off I'd be if I gave Isabella up and married you. Foolishly, I told Isabella what he'd said.”

  Stephen paused. Head in his hands, he gathered his strength to continue. Lucy sat frozen at his side, her hands twisting together, the knuckles white with tension. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came to her tongue.

  “Isabella thought it a splendid idea to confound the gossip and hide our affair. I resisted as long as I could, but I was too weak. Eventually she wore me down. I knew it was wrong; completely immoral. I did it anyway. I salved my conscience by telling myself I was doing it for love. I also swore to myself I'd do my utmost not to let you suffer for what I'd done. Somehow, I managed to divide my life into two separate parts, making your needs my first prio
rity. Only, that meant I never had enough time to devote to her to make her happy. You weren't the nonentity she'd expected you to be, Lucy, and she became insanely jealous of you. So jealous she bribed Jake Saunders to attack you, so your reputation would be ruined.”

  He turned to face Lucy, clasping her hands within his.

  “We know it was Jake. He fit the description, and Dad saw your bite marks on his hand. You needn't be afraid any more, Lu.”

  A shudder shook Lucy's whole body. She hadn't realised until that moment how fear of her attacker striking again had been haunting her, sapping her courage and destroying her freedom to enjoy Eden Vale as she had been till then. She threw herself into Stephen's arms and sobbed out her relief against his broad chest, his arms encircling her protectively.

  The bout of weeping was quickly over. When Lucy was quiet again, Stephen wiped her eyes with a corner of the sheet.

  Dropping a kiss on her forehead, he asked, “Alright Lu? Shall I go on, or do you want to leave the rest till tomorrow?”

  “Now please. I'm fine now Stephen. I'd rather get it all done with and not have it hanging over me.”

  “There's not much more. Isabella thought I'd be pleased to have an unassailable excuse to repudiate you. She over-reached herself. I know now, my growing love for you awakened my conscience and gave me the strength to resist her hold over me, which had been weakening for some time. The attack on you was the last straw. I was appalled at her lack of conscience; her selfishness. I thought my heart would break, but I told her it was over between us. I was so angry on your behalf, Lucy. Because I'd been such a fool, you'd had to suffer something no woman should ever have to endure.”

  Lucy buried her face against Stephen’s chest, and he held her tight in his arms.

  “That night at McGowan's,” he continued, “all I felt was disgust. It came as such a shock to discover not a trace of love for her remained. That was why I was so upset that night. I didn't know who I was any longer. I was a stupid boy when I fell for Isabella, but somewhere along the way I truly believe I've grown up. Now all that is in the past, I hope one day I will be able to look at myself in the mirror without shame. I hope one day I'll have recovered my honour enough to finally be worthy of you.”

  Self-disgust shuddered through him, but his eyes, brimming with earnest promise, remained fixed on Lucy's, his mouth firming to an uncompromising line.

  Lucy's heart ached for his pain, and her hand stole up to cup his cheek in a comforting touch.

  “That's about it, Lu. I've recovered from my madness to learn how truly lucky I am to be married to you, and not only because I love you. You're a very special woman, Lucy. Do you think you can ever forgive me?”

  Lucy stirred, sitting up straight to face her husband.

  She was bitterly angry at Isabella. Angry at Stephen too, for betraying her trust so terribly.

  But she had loved Stephen Fortescue when he was just a boy. She had loved him when he was floundering, honour lost, caught between the innocence of adolescence and nascent manhood.

  She loved him still, now he was emerging, honour dented and tarnished but regained, as the man he was always meant to be.

  She loved him, plain and simple.

  In spite of the pain he'd brought her.

  She knew she would love him for the rest of her life, but before they could move on, there had to be a clean slate between them.

  “Before we talk about forgiveness Stephen, I have my own confessions to make.”

  She leaned forward to press her lips to his in tender promise.

  “I'm not the paragon you've made me into, Stephen. I can be mean and selfish. Devious too. I was a silly little girl who knew nothing of real life when we married. I'd heard about Isabella, and discounted the story. I didn't believe it possible you could marry me while still being involved with another. Not until I saw you with her in Sydney, going into her room.”

  Stephen gasped, reddening under her gaze. When he would have rushed into speech, Lucy lay her fingers across his lips, silencing him.

  “Enough said, Darling. Let me finish. I nearly ran away, only I was too scared. Too much of a coward. Later, we were getting on so well, I thought I'd mistaken the meaning of what I saw. When I discovered you were still seeing her, I got angry. Furious. And decided to fight her for you. I learnt about her notes, and, as often as I could, made sure you were otherwise occupied when she sent for you. I even managed to intercept one in which she threatened to give you up. No wonder she was so angry. I hoped she'd do as she threatened and give you your marching orders and leave you alone.”

  “She almost did.”

  “Well, then. Through all this, I grew up too, Stephen. One thing I learned is that I don't own you. You will stay with me or not of your own free will; because it's the right choice for you. I hope you choose to stay, since my romantic dream of love has grown into real love. I love you too, Stephen. As a woman loves her man and stands by him through all life's tribulations. Loving you means accepting you as you are. Warts and all, as Grandmama puts it. Forgiveness, and putting your needs ahead of my own, are part of my kind of loving.”

  “Oh, Lucy. I said you are special. This just goes to prove it. Do you think we can start all over again? As if our true marriage begins today?”

  “Darling, I want your new start more than anything.”

  Kisses and loving murmurs led into sweet loving, and Lucy forgot her exciting news with so much else to occupy her mind. And her body. She didn't remember till morning. Yawning and stretching when she felt Stephen trying to slide out of bed without waking her. She sat up too quickly, receiving an instant reminder. When her stomach stopped churning, she patted the edge of the mattress.

  “Good morning Darling. Sit down a moment.”

  “You're awake. I did try to be quiet, Love.”

  He gathered her into his arms for a thoroughly satisfactory good morning kiss.

  “I need to go. Will is already up, having breakfast.”

  “Will can wait, or head out without you. I have something important to share. I was going to tell you last night, only other stuff got in the way.”

  Blushing, she dropped her eyes. She took his hand and placed it on her still-flat stomach and smiled up at him.

  “Let me introduce you to your son, Stephen darling.”

  “Son? Do you mean …? Are you having a baby?”

  The amazement on his face made Lucy laugh.

  “We are having a baby. I didn't do it alone, you know.”

  “That's the most wonderful news, Lu. You said son? What if it's a daughter?”

  “Then our son will have a big sister to welcome him when he arrives in another couple of years. I really don't mind, do you?”

  “Not a bit. All I care about is whether our child is healthy. Though a boy first would be nice. What should we call him?”

  A soft tap sounded on the door.

  “Let Bridget in, Darling. I've discovered it's disastrous to get up till after I've had tea and toast to settle my stomach.”

  EPILOGUE

  All the principal families living on The Ridge were represented at the inquest into the deaths of Isabella and Archibald Cummings, and Jacob Saunders; but apart from the police, only Thomas Fortescue and Mrs Agnes Watson, the Far Horizons housekeeper, were required to give evidence in what proved to be an open and shut case.

  On considering Isabella and Jake, the magistrate returned a finding of two counts of murder in the first degree while in a state of diminished responsibility against Archibald Cummings. He followed this up with a finding of suicide in Archibald's death. All of which were to be expected since the evidence was quite unambiguous.

  After the funerals, Thomas had a long talk with Archibald's solicitor, as a result of which, he took over the management of Far Horizons as a temporary measure.

  The heirs, already in possession of a handsome property in Victoria, decided to sell Far Horizons.

  Thomas, thrilled with the news he was about to bec
ome a grandfather, gave up the Queensland idea and elected to expand his holdings closer to home.

  He made a successful bid for Far Horizons, moving there permanently to manage the property himself, with the aid of Ned Watson, Josh's older brother, whom he promoted to overseer.

  Stephen and Lucy were left in possession of Eden Vale where they lived for the rest of their lives.

  Shortly after the drama of the murder/suicide at Far Horizons, Lucy wrote to Sister Mary Magdalene, belatedly expressing her thanks for the nun's kindness to her, and to inform her of the happy outcome to her personal story. The two continued to be faithful correspondents until the nun's death early in the new century.

  Gordon Thomas Fortescue, named for both of his grandfathers, was born strong and healthy on the nineteenth of October, 1861. Adam Merton and Lucy's favourite cousin, Amelia Rochdale, were appointed his godparents, and he was followed into the world over the next several years by a brother and two sisters.

  Lucy and Stephen lived long and happy lives, loving each other deeply and faithfully until death finally parted them when Stephen, an old man of eighty-three suffered a fatal heart attack. Lucy passed away in her sleep two years later.

  Stories of Isabella Cummings, much embellished, became part of the local folklore. Parents cited her as an example to their children of the moral and physical dangers inherent in adultery.

  THE END

  I hope you enjoyed reading Unto Death.

  Please turn the page for a preview of Lena West’s new Australian Historical Romance, Emily’s Baby.

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  Emily’s Baby

  An Australian Historical Romance

  1

  He sat on the park bench, an erect, spare figure of an older country man in his Sunday-best navy suit, neatly pressed white shirt and conservative striped tie, the whole topped by a. broad-brimmed felt hat. Unseen, his right hand was wrapped around the bottle of pills in his pocket. A thermos flask of hot, sweet tea to wash them down stood on the park bench beside him.