Amorous Redemption

by Faye Hall

  The bartender eyed him cautiously before reaching under the bar and ringing the bell. In barely a minute a beautifully dressed woman walked around the corner, her face covered in layers of make-up.

  “Did you ask to see me, darlin?” she asked.

  Duncan nodded. “Gordon MacAllester owes you money, madam. Quite a substantial sum I am to understand.”

  The heavily made up woman nodded.

  “I need you to call his debts in. I need you to request he pays in full what he owes to you immediately.”

  The madam laughed heartedly. “And who the hell do you think you are asking me to do such a thing?”

  “My name is Duncan MacAllester. Gordon is my brother, and again, madam, I ask you to please call in his debts.”

  The woman shook her head. “No.”

  “What?” he asked. “Why not?”

  The woman shrugged. “Your brother is a good customer. Why would I call in his debts?”

  “A good customer?” David asked. “How can he be a good customer if he never pays his bills?”

  Duncan studied this woman before him, suddenly understanding her reluctance. “Gordon gives you free alcohol, doesn’t he?”

  “What business is it of yours?” the woman asked.

  “I’m the chief executive of The Lester Company, the company that alcohol comes from. Your supply will be cut off immediately unless you call in my brother’s debts.”

  “We’ll see what Gordon has to say about that!” the woman spat at him angrily.

  Duncan smiled. “Gordon was fired from the company last night so I suggest you learn to do business with me, or I will have men in here within the hour ensuring you will never again operate for business.”

  Having the signed note requesting Gordon’s debts be called in safely in his pocket, Duncan led David out of the Inn.

  “What’s the next address?” he asked turning to David.

  “The bank, or so it seems,” David answered him. “Maybe we should—”

  “We go now, David, and you follow my lead.”

  “I thought you said you no longer had the stomach for persuasions, Duncan. You’ve done pretty well so far though.”

  He smiled. “I can bat words with the best of them, David, but that is all. And I fear it will take more than words at the bank.”

  The signed request for payment to be made in full by the bank now in the pocket of his jeans along with the first one from the Inn, Duncan walked down the street toward the waiting horses.

  “You seem to hold much power in this town, Duncan,” David remarked as he followed him down the street. “These men and women this money is owed to, they seem to fear you.”

  He nodded. “They fear the man I once was, David. They remember the people I have killed for far less than the amounts of money we’ve gone seeking today. They remember the businesses I have destroyed and the families I have run out of town.”

  “Why would you leave such a life, Duncan?” David asked. “Why would you give up a life that gave you so much power and so many privileges?”

  Before he could answer, Duncan noticed the beautiful image of a woman leaving the shop just up ahead of them, her black hair tied in to a loose bun, her pale white skin standing out against the darkness of her high necked day gown.

  Duncan stopped dead in his tracks, his every sense captivated by the beauty before him. Never had he seen Phoebe look more beautiful.

  Stopping beside him, David followed his unfaltering gaze.

  “I think I understand why you’ve given it all up, Duncan,” David remarked. “I shall meet you at the horses. There is someone I have to see while we are in town.”

  Nodding but not really listening to his hired hand, Duncan walked hesitantly toward where Phoebe stood at the jeweller’s window admiring the shop window.

  “All the gems in the world could never compare to your beauty, Phoebe,” Duncan remarked, his fingers gently and subtly stroking the back of her hand.

  She blushed slightly. “Why are you in town, Duncan?”

  “Business,” was his short reply.

  She nodded. “I haven’t seen you in a while. I assume now that my husband has been relieved from the family company you are being kept well busy running the company?”

  He couldn’t answer her, thinking instead of all he feared she had suffered because of such an action.

  “Did Gordon beat you?” he finally asked.

  She shook her head. “No, Duncan he didn’t. A carriage driver came to my rescue the night he was fired. I asked him who sent him. He said you did, Duncan.”

  He nodded, his hand falling away from hers and back to his side. “I had to make sure you were safe. My father wouldn’t let me leave the hall so I sent my driver to your aide instead.”

  “Must you always obey your father?” she asked.

  He nodded. “For a little while longer I fear I must.”

  “Thank you for sending someone to help me, Duncan,” She smiled as she glanced at him.

  He returned her smile, his hand going back to hers, his fingers entwining with hers. “I had to be certain you were safe, Phoebe.”

  It pleased him when she didn’t pull away from him.

  “Why was Gordon fired from the company?” she finally asked.

  He didn’t want to hurt her, but nor could he lie to her. She deserved the truth.

  “He was found in a suggestive position with the wife of one of father’s business partners, even after he was warned away from her.”

  She nodded at what he said. “Gordon has been caught in the bed of many of your father’s business associates. He has even run up accounts at every gambling house in the area, and been banned from several whorehouses too.”

  “Why do you stay, Phoebe?” He asked her. “No one would fault you for leaving.”

  She pulled her hand away from him then. “You need to visit a man called Morris Kilmore. I can arrange the meeting for you. I think you will find what he has to say quite interesting, Duncan.”

  With that she turned away before he could question her further, and walked away down the street.

  “Are you ready to return back to the station now, Duncan?” David asked coming to a stop beside him.

  He shook his head. “Not yet. I need you to find out who a Morris Kilmore is, David.”

  “No need to find anything out, sir,” David replied. “I know who he is already. He supplies bounty hunters and assassins, prostitutes and mistresses, and is the biggest loan shark in the district.”

  “Does Gordon owe him money?” He asked.

  David shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. I know someone who can set up a meeting for you though if you want to ask him yourself, Duncan. I’ll send a message before we leave town.”

  Duncan nodded. “It’s time we were going home.”

  Just as they went to walk toward the Burdekin Inn, a young boy came running up and handed a note to Duncan before quickly running back into the streets. Unfolding the piece of paper, Duncan read the delicate script.

  “You won’t need to send that note after all, David. It appears a meeting has already been set up for me with Mr Kilmore.”

  Folding the note, Duncan placed it in his jeans pocket. “I meet with him the day after tomorrow.”

  Stopping at their horses at the Burdekin Inn, Duncan swung up into his saddle.

  “Where did you disappear to before, David?” he asked.

  David swung up into his saddle too, grabbing the horses reins tightly in his hands. “Your father killed Andrew Ross’s sister many years ago back in England. She went by her mother’s maiden name so your father never made the connection. That’s why Ross is here in Australia, Duncan. He plans to set your father up and have him take the fall for all the crimes of the Ross family.”

  “But why after all these years?” he asked. “The murder was years ago.”

  David nodded. “Think if the crime was done against Phoebe. Would you not hold a grudge even so many years later?”


  Duncan nodded, knowing what David said was true. Grudges in his own family had been held for years, and it seemed Andrew Ross was no different.

  “Just how bad is this Ross family?” Duncan finally asked.

  David smiled. “Let’s just say they could almost put the MacAllester’s to shame.”

  Several days passed before Duncan returned to Holme Hill to keep his appointment with Morris Kilmore.

  Following the butler into the study his eyes instantly settled on a grey haired old gentleman sitting in his smoking chair, pulling a cigar from his smoking jacket ready to light it.

  “Duncan MacAllester is here to see you, sir,” the butler announced, stepping into the study.

  Morris Kilmore puffed on his cigar until it was lit before throwing his match into the ashtray resting on the table before him and turning to his butler.

  “Leave us,” Morris ordered, waving his hand at the butler, dismissing him.

  Bowing obediently, the butler quickly left the room. Watching the door close behind the servant, Duncan turned to the older gent before him. Had he not been told any differently, he’d have thought him a harmless old man, certainly nothing scandalous about him.

  “You seem bewildered, Duncan,” Morris commented.

  Walking toward the empty smoking chair opposite Morris, he took a seat. “I was told you supplied bounty hunters and hit men, sir?”

  Morris nodded. “Do I not look the part?” he asked.

  Duncan shook his head. “Frankly, sir, no you do not.”

  Morris laughed at his honesty. “That was what Miss Porter said too.”

  “Phoebe suggested I should speak to you,” he explained. “She hinted I would find some information you had very interesting.”

  Morris puffed on his cigar. “Gordon MacAllester came to me some months back. He wanted to hire a man to kill Phoebe but I turned him away. I knew full well of your brother’s cruel reputation and of the excessive money he owed around the district and I wasn’t prepared to do business with such a man. He tried explaining to me that for him to clear his debts he needed the money from Inkerman Downs Station...he said he needed Phoebe dead to get this money.”

  “So you supplied him with the hitman?” Duncan asked.

  Morris shook his head. “I gave him a timetable in which the money he owed had to be paid or I would be sending debt collectors after him.”

  Duncan sat forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees, his fingers clasped.

  “And that is why he came looking for me? But I was hired to find Phoebe and return her to her family,” Duncan explained. “I was never hired to kill her.”

  “It was me who gave your name to Gordon,” Morris confessed. “I knew you were his brother, but I also knew you were the best tracker in the district. I also knew you didn’t have it in you to kill a woman no matter how much your brother may try to persuade you.”

  “You set me up?” he asked.

  Morris shrugged. “You were a good business deal, Duncan, nothing more.”

  “I don’t understand,” he persisted. “What do you care if Gordon wanted his fiancée dead? Surely you’ve sent men to kill women before?”

  Morris tapped the arm of his chair with his fingertips. “Phoebe Porter owns the other half of this company, Duncan. I wasn’t going to let some bastard go off and kill her, now was I?”

  “What?” he exclaimed, completely baffled by what he was hearing.

  “I fell on hard times about ten years ago. The lady who offered to buy the other half of my company and get me out of financial ruin was Phoebe’s aunt. Upon her death her share in the company, along with Inkerman Downs Station and a wad of money, went to Phoebe.”

  “Does Phoebe have any knowledge what your company does; I mean what it really does?” Duncan asked.

  Morris nodded. “She’s why Gordon is so far in debt. She ordered me to make it such.”

  “But why?”

  Morris laughed. “You of all people shouldn’t have to ask what happens to a man who can never repay his debts, Duncan. From what I heard you have been called to take care of a few yourself over the years.”

  “But Phoebe would lose everything if her husband went to jail.”

  Morris nodded, his face very serious. “She would...but she would gain her freedom, Duncan.”

  Duncan thought for quite a while before finally he knew what had to be done.

  “Morris, I have an offer for you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Phoebe walked into the dance hall at Morris Kilmore’s estate on her husband’s arm, mildly uncomfortable. When entering upon her partnership with Morris, they had agreed not to meet socially, so when the invitation had arrived for this evening’s function, she was slightly taken aback and concerned.

  Following her husband, the pair approached their host to do the required greetings.

  “Mr MacAllester,” Morris addressed them first, his hand coming out to shake the other man’s. “So glad you could make it.”

  She waited until Morris turned to her, and taking her hand in his kissed the back of it politely.

  “This must be your lovely wife,” Morris remarked. “She truly is a beauty, sir.”

  Phoebe curtsied as she knew was required. “You are much too kind, sir.”

  Morris smiled at her slightly. “Will you excuse us, dear? I’m afraid I must speak to your husband about some business.”

  Watching while the two men walked off together, she couldn’t help but wonder what trick Morris was up to.

  “Do not worry, my love,” Phoebe heard Duncan’s voice say softly from close behind her. “Morris shan’t tell Gordon your secret. He invited you because he needed to sort your husband’s debts out.”

  She glanced over her shoulder to where he had come to a stop beside her, looking so very handsome in his black suit.

  “I need to leave this place,” she blurted out, her emotions in turmoil, her hand going to rest on her stomach as she felt the slight nausea return.

  “Are you ill?” Duncan asked, his hand going to her forearm. “Maybe some cool night air may help.”

  Phoebe rested her hand on his, smiling slightly at the kindness of his concern. She had suspected for several weeks that she may have been with child, but it wasn’t until this morning when the infernal nausea wouldn’t depart that she was certain.

  “Have things become worse with Gordon?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Has he continued to beat you?”

  She shook her head, feeling the queasiness in her stomach slightly ease. “Gordon’s temper has worsened since he was fired from the company. Mostly he takes his aggressions out on the servants or the whores he brings home. So far I am safe in my sitting room, but I fear not for long.”

  “I need a couple more days at least, Phoebe,” he begged her. “I am having a place readied to take you to while I finish with The Lester Company. You will be safe there until I can come for you.”

  She reached out to him, her hand gripping his desperately. “I need your help, Duncan. I fear what will happen should I stay with Gordon for any more time. I can’t wait any longer. I need to leave now.”

  “What has happened?” he asked, his stare studying her. “Why are you suddenly more afraid than you were a few weeks ago?”

  She looked at him, her teary gaze begging him to understand and not push her away.

  “I’m with child, Duncan,” she slowly muttered in barely more than a whisper. “I am with your child.”

  He didn’t speak. He just stood staring at her as if trying to comprehend what she had just confessed.

  Watching the shock and confusion in his expression, Phoebe felt her heart sink. She had thought…

  Pulling her hand away from him, she knew she had been a fool to think anything good would come of this night. Tears pouring down her cheeks, she turned and ran into the house and as far away from Duncan as she could be.

  After refreshing herself in the ladies powder room, Phoebe took a deep breath, knowing sh
e owed Duncan another chance. After all, he didn’t actually say he didn’t want the child. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all.

  Leaving the room and walking back out toward the dance hall, she knew her news must have been a shock to him, but now that he’d had time to think about it…

  Stopping just inside the door that entered the dance hall, she scanned the crowd looking for Duncan. A few feet from her she noticed him standing with his fiancée, his arm around her affectionately, his lips lowering to hers.

  Turning away from the heart breaking sight before her, Phoebe ran back into the house knowing she could watch no more.

  * * * * *

  Morris Kilmore watched Phoebe run from his dancehall a second time for the evening and he knew whatever was happening needed to be sorted and soon. He didn’t need people looking into her life, and in turn discovering his connection to her and their joint business. He’d also agreed to help Duncan out until he managed to see his plan through by keeping an eye on Phoebe and protecting her from anything that might cause her harm, including herself.

  Walking through the empty hallways of his rather large house, Morris noticed Phoebe’s crumbled figure sitting on the floor barely a few feet from his study. Going to her, he helped her to her feet and escorted her into the comfort of his office. Sitting her in one of his smoking chairs, he offered her a glass.

  “What has happened, my dear?” Morris asked, genuinely curious. “Maybe a brandy would help.”

  “No, Morris,” Phoebe answered instantly. “A class of water please will suffice.”

  Handing her a glass of water, Morris sat opposite her. “Now, my dear, will you tell me what has happened?”

  “I am a fool, Morris,” she muttered, her head bowed in shame. “I am a fool to think I could survive this—Duncan, Gordon, my partnership with you. It is too much!”

  Watching as tears began to consume her, Morris studied her, wondering what else could be triggering this usually strong woman to crumble before him. Watching her slowly sipping the water, as if struggling to keep the liquid down, her handkerchief in her hand fanning at her face as if suddenly hotter than usual, Morris started to make sense of the predicament before him.