She hadn't allowed Dougal to touch her since before Dougie's birth, and he grew more sullen as the days passed. When she'd told him she didn't wish to be saddled with a baby every year the ensuing quarrel only widened the breach between them.
"'Tis nothing to do with having a baby. You just don't want me near you," he'd tossed at her. She hadn't argued with him. How could she, when it was the truth. The thought of his hands on her body filled her with revulsion. Often now Dougal stayed away watching the sheep for days and nights on end. Although she knew it was wrong of her she was happy when he was away. They barely passed a civil word when he was home, and what little respect she'd held for him had long since gone.
Tiger's property had expanded and she suspected he was becoming very rich. Often she wondered why he never married one of the free settlers' daughters who twittered after him. It had been common knowledge that he'd courted Prudence Bacon for a few months, and Isabella fully expected an announcement of their wedding. But nothing had come of it. The girl had since become betrothed to a lieutenant in the King's Regiment. Why that should make her feel exultant she wasn't willing to admit to herself.
When she'd asked him about it on one of the rare occasions when they'd spoken to each other he'd given her a strange look, before informing her coldly, "When and who I decide to marry is of no concern of yours, madam."
"True," she'd replied nonchalantly. "'Tis just that you're dragging your feet somewhat. Don't you want to start a family before you reach your dotage? Don't you desire children to carry on your name after you've gone? A son perhaps to inherit your farm." A demon inside her drove her to taunt him.
"I have a son," he'd told her abruptly.
"Oh, whose?" She shrugged carelessly, cherishing a moment of delight when his eyes narrowed to menacing slits. "One of your mistresses'?"
"I have Tim," he answered through his teeth.
With a cynical laugh she retorted, "Tim's mine. He has no father. I shall tell him that when he's old enough to know the truth. I shall tell him his father is dead. He may as well be. His father disowned him."
She really thought Tiger was about to hit her, his face was so twisted with rage. But he hadn't, and she'd faced him with her chin held high.
"Oh no, I'll not lay a hand on you in anger, and you know it. But often I feel I could kill you, Bella," he whispered, turning on his heel and striding off, his hands clenched into fists.
"And I you," she shouted at his receding back.
"Do you think Tiger will head over the mountains, Thelma?" she asked as she put the baby into the crib at the foot of her bed and tucked the covers around him. "I know he's talked about it often enough, but is it just a dream with him, d'you think?"
"Over the hills," Tim chanted.
Isabella bent over him, smiling as she secured his arms beneath his bedcovers. He promptly set them free, reaching up to grip her about the neck.
"Tiger fills his head with stories of life over the other side of those blessed mountains," Thelma said, folding Tim's clothes. "Aye, no doubt about it, Bella, he'll head off. He's been itching to go for years."
"Often I think they're all mad to put up with the dry hot days and the floods and the lack of grazing pastures in this harsh land. We were sent here, like it or not, but so many come of their own accord now. And with so many new settlers coming in it's getting mighty crowded."
"Aye. Governor Macquarie certainly built Sydney into a fine town, but without the farmers producing the grain and animals, the townsfolk won't get far. I suppose Tiger's right in what he says, there's pasture aplenty over yon mountains, so why not give land grants to any who are willing to go off to places unknown and start afresh. Those who've been given tracts over there seem to be doing all right."
"Aye, but if Tiger goes then we'll all be forced to tag along with him, Thelma. And I don't know as I'm so keen to be going off into the wilds where there are natives and bushrangers hiding behind every tree."
"Ah, half of what you hear is a load of rubbish spouted by those who have little ambition, and aren't willing to try something new," Thelma argued. "There's been little trouble from the natives since they attacked the Macarthur's farm at Cowpastures five years or so ago."
"I suppose you're right. The colony must expand, and Tiger is bound to be up the front leading the charge inland once the grants are given. Now, Tim, go to sleep." Isabella tapped him on the end of his nose, then bent to kiss him. "Sleep tight, son."
"We're going over the mountains, Tiger says so," he told her as she went to the door with Thelma, after making sure Dougie was asleep.
"If Tiger says so, then it must be true." Isabella sighed as she blew him a kiss.
Thelma went straight back to the kitchen, but Isabella lingered beneath the verandah, staring out over the paddocks, watching a flock of pink and grey parrots squabble over perches in a gum tree. This was her favorite time of the year, when the days were warm and the nights cool. She doubted she would ever become accustomed to the long stifling days of summer heat where often the winds seemed to draw every last piece of moisture from your skin.
Tiger came from the stables so quietly she didn't hear him until he stood a few paces away. Turning her head she faced him and for long moments they silently regarded each other, the air about them throbbing with unspoken words. Then he came near until he was an arm's length away. As if he could do nothing to stop himself he lifted a hand and stroked two fingers down her cheek.
"Oh." She grasped his wrist. A jolt of awareness thrilled along her skin, and she longed to take the step forward that would bring her into contact with his powerful body. Instead she forced herself to sneer as she said, "Take your hands off me."
"No." He bit out the word. "I have no wish to. I wish to touch you. I want to kiss you. Undress you and make love to you. God help me, but I want you so much I'm dying of it."
"Then die." With a sudden jerk she managed to push his hand away, but he was too strong and too quick for her. In a flash he had both his arms about her and was pulling her against his hard body.
"I may just do that," he whispered hoarsely, his mouth hovering above hers.
"Kiss me and I'll—"
"What? Bite me as you did once before? Do it and you'll pay the consequences, Bella my love."
"It would be worth being punished, just for the satisfaction of hurting you."
"Oh, don't fear, I'm already hurting." His tone softened and the sultry throb in his voice sent small thrills along her spine.
"Don't be daft. Only people with hearts can hurt. You have a chunk of stone where your heart should be." She struggled, knowing it was useless, and knowing deep down she had no real desire to fight him. "Let me go, please," she pleaded. "I don't know what you think you can do by forcing me to stay in your arms this way."
"Don't you? I think you lie. We both know what I could do given the fancy, Bella. And it's no use lying to me and saying I don't make you shake with wanting me, because I can feel every tremor that's going through you right now." To prove it he ran his hands up and down her arms, then pressed a finger to the pulse point in her throat where her blood pumped erratically through her veins.
"That's fear. You frighten me." She shook her head.
He had the gall to laugh, his throat arching as he threw his head back, showing his strong arched neck. "I've never scared you, little Bella. You're stronger than me in your way. No, we both know it's desire making you shake as much as me at this moment. Feel me." He grabbed her hand and despite her struggles to release it pressed it on his chest so she could feel the heavy thump of his heart beneath her palm.
"Why are you doing this? You're not right in the head. I can't work out what you want. Now let me go."
"Why won't you let Dougal into your bed? Have you been ill since the baby was born?" She gave a small shake of the head, and he grinned devilishly. "Not sick, eh? The poor sod spends too much time with his sheep lately. He's getting as dopey as them."
"You have a cruel streak in you
I find hateful, Tiger Carstairs. Now, let me go, and go off to your new mistress." Her lip curled as she glared up into his gold- flecked eyes.
"Mistress?" He let out a soft laugh, staring intently at her. "You've been listening to false gossip again, my love."
"Your love? You make me mad with rage when you talk so. You're the one who is false. Go away Tiger, and leave me be, for heaven's sake."
"I'm never going away, don't you see? I'll always be here, and you'll always be mine, no matter what. Every part of you is mine; your beautiful hair, your silken limbs, your slim and graceful body." With a soft grunt he pulled her up against him until she could feel every part of his body from his knee to his chest. "See what you do to me. Feel my wanting." He groaned as he rotated her hips against his.
Isabella stifled a sob of anguish. She thumped at his chest in frustration. "I'll be free of you one day, Tiger. Soon I'll be getting my ticket of leave, then Dougal will get his own land from the Governor. You'll have no hold over me then."
"You think so?" He grunted when she struck him again. "We'll always have a hold over each other, you and me. Something binds us together and no matter how much you deny it we'll always have this between us. I've had the sense to admit it, why don't you?"
His head bent swiftly, his mouth covering hers with a savagery that would have frightened her if it hadn't excited her so much.
Isabella moaned as he deepened the kiss, possessing her, binding them as surely as he'd stated. His hands held her fast while he feasted on her mouth.
Every word he said was true, but she would not yield to him. Could not willingly give what he'd tossed aside with careless abandon. Could not forget he'd treated her like the whore he'd accused her of being.
Bringing up one of the hands trapped between their bodies she struck him across the head. He reeled back in shock, his breathing uneven.
"I hate you. I mean it, Tiger, leave me be. I'll carry a knife in future and if you set a finger on me I'll kill you." Wiping her swollen lips she stepped back. He let her go.
"No need. I just wanted to see if you still tasted as sweet. You wouldn't kill me and we both know it. You've had plenty of opportunity to get rid of me and would have done it long afore now if you'd really had a mind to." She flinched as he ran a finger across her lower lip. "And another thing, Tim's my son, and nobody can dispute it. Try to tell him I'm dead and I'll tell him the truth."
She sneered. "Strange that a man who didn't want to admit he had a son suddenly finds he covets the boy. You can't change your mind, Tiger. You didn't want him . . . or me."
"A man can change his mind."
He pushed his hair back and she noted with satisfaction his fingers were shaking. "I suppose a man like you can do just what he pleases." Her eyes narrowed with scorn.
"That's it, Bella. Glad you're finally learning. Oh, by the by, the Honorable Cecil Houghton sailed back to Merry England, I thought you'd be pleased to hear."
Isabella stared at him. "He did? Last I heard he was setting up in business, drawing together a group of like-minded Exclusives."
"He was, but had no head for it, so I heard. Anyways, he loved gambling too much, and had not the wit for that either. Blessed if he didn't lose all his wealth at the gaming tables. Far be it from me to boast, but a fair portion of it ended up in my bank account. So, you're free of that scoundrel at least." He touched a finger to her chin and Isabella shrank back.
"If only I were as free of you!"
"Ah, Bella, love, the only way we'll ever be free of each other is when one or the other is dead, don't you see?" Turning on his heel he walked off, whistling.
"Go to the devil. You belong with him," she shouted after him, not caring who heard.
Chapter Twenty Five
1822
Tiger dropped Satan's reins and rubbed his palms together. As he stroked the stallion's sleek neck he stared at the grazing flock, whose bleating filled the morning air.
"I was sorry to see Governor Macquarie go, Gillie, but I have to own to being more than satisfied with the new Governor's ideas. With his land reforms we'll be on our way over the mountains soon, you mark my words." He looked into the hazy distance, where the mountains with their constant lure beckoned him irresistibly.
"Aye, he's got things moving along nicely, Tiger, I'll say that for him. Some of the squatters are a bone idle lot, setting themselves anywhere they wanted and then letting their boundaries get all mixed together. And they've just let too many sheep on their land without thought of it being over grazed. 'Tis getting worse than after the great caterpillar plague."
"Governor Brisbane's new tickets of occupation are just what we needed. Now we can apply for land before it's surveyed, then once we get over the mountains we can legally claim it and a grant will be issued. At least we now have a sure idea when we can start to think about moving. I'll put the farm up for sale straight away. With all the free folk coming over from England these days I doubt I'll have trouble selling it."
"'Twill be good to head to new pastures, but I admit I'll be sad to leave the old place." Gillie turned in the saddle, a hand up to shield his eyes as he watched one of his dogs herd a stray lamb back towards the flock.
"Aye." Tiger took the band of cloth from his neck and wiped his brow. "But think on it. Land as far as the eye can see, all lush and green. None of this over- grazed scrub. We'll be far better off."
"Aye, but I've my doubts about the new Governor's idea—why should each landowner be forced to take on convicts?"
"And at our own expense." Tiger chuckled. "One convict for every hundred acres of land. I find it a good idea. All the fools who are too lazy or not ambitious enough to seek greener pastures will be stuck with more convicts than they can afford to keep."
Gillie nodded. "Aye, true. But I have a feeling the women aren't too pleased at the idea of upping and moving."
"I dare say our Bella will give me a piece of her mind as usual, but Thelma's all for going. She knows she'll have a house of her own over there."
"Aye, Thelma's dreamed of that for a long time."
Tiger threaded his fingers through Satan's mane and the stallion tossed his head. Isabella barely spoke to him any more. Often he had an urge to drag her off somewhere so they could be alone. He ought to kiss her senseless, until neither of them would be able to draw enough breath to speak.
But she was Dougal's wife, not his to do with as he liked. God, but there were times when he was so filled with regrets thinking about it threatened his sanity.
"Best get started on stripping these beasts of their fleece, if we're a'gonna be taking them over them mountains soon, then," Gillie said, and Tiger brought himself back to the business at hand. Lord, there were times of late when he caught himself drifting off like a lovesick young fool panting after his first sweetheart.
"Aye, and the cows will have to be visited by the bull, so they carry calves with them. I'll be going into town tomorrow. I'll put the farm in the land agent's hands."
* * *
"Will we ever come back, Mama?" Tim asked. "It's a long way over the mountains, Tiger told me. He said it will take this many days to get there." He held both his tiny hands aloft, fingers spread.
"Aye, 'tis a long way for sure, but we'll be back, have no fear, Tim. You and Dougie are going to attend the fine school of Doctor Halloran, I've made up my mind." Isabella smoothed his fine hair back from his brow, then ran a finger over his small frown. "His establishment is for the education of young gentlemen."
"But we're not gentlemen, Mama," Tim scoffed.
"Ha. You two are going to be the finest gents in the colony. I've made up my mind." She smiled as she hugged Dougie to her breast. Dougal didn't know it yet, nor did Tiger Carstairs, but her sons would rise higher in life than being sheep farmers. "You might even be a doctor, like Doc Neale. Would you like that Tim?"
"No, Mama." He shook his head. "I'm going to be a great land owner, just like Tiger."
Isabella hid a grimace. Tiger was his i
dol, someone to be followed and copied in all things, good or bad.
"Will we be attacked by wild dogs or kangaroos on the way over, Mama, do you think?"
"Of course not. Not while we have Tiger to protect us," Isabella assured him, knowing her scorn was lost on the child.
Tim grinned and ran off, content in the knowledge his precious Tiger would take care of him, no matter what ill befell them. Isabella often thought how strange it was that he never presumed Dougal would be their protector. Although she'd never once shown the children by act or speech how she despised Dougal, Tim somehow sensed the man he called father played only a small insignificant part in their lives. It was Tiger he turned to for guidance, information and encouragement.
What Tiger thought of this state of affairs she had no idea. But she knew Dougal's resentment had festered until he'd become a man filled with hate.
Chapter Twenty Six
September 1823
So much had happened in this house, good and bad. Isabella felt a melancholy tug deep inside as she gave it one long last look. She had to think of the future now. Nothing was ever gained by looking back. Lord, she had plenty of regrets, but what was the point in dwelling on them.
She'd gained her ticket of leave. It was safely packed in her trunk. Dougal had a small grant of land alongside Tiger's over near Bathurst, so once over the other side they could set out on their own at last. The prospect brought no excitement along with it. Strangely, her ticket, which she'd earned before her sentence had run its full course, brought little cause for celebration either. After all, she'd hardly lived the life of a convict.
Thelma coughed, a ragged sound that seemed to tear at her throat. Isabella glanced over at her dear friend. If not for her she would probably have argued for Dougal to take land down Emu Plains or somewhere nearer the town, anywhere he could run a few sheep and cattle and they could plant some crops, make a future for the boys and to hell with Tiger Carstairs.
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