The Goldminer's Sister

by Alison Stuart

  ‘And why do you think Tehan is behind it?’ Maidment asked.

  Alec hesitated. ‘He is the only person I know who knew, or at least guessed, I had them.’

  Maidment huffed out a breath and pushed his hat back to scratch his head. ‘Black Jack Tehan may have come with a reputation but he’s done nothing I am aware of to put him on the wrong side of the law. Still, if you’re sure at least one of his men is involved then that gives me the excuse to speak to him and maybe do a more thorough search of their camp, but I don’t think he’ll fall at my feet, confessing all.’

  Alec tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. ‘This is confidential, Maidment, but would you consider it a possibility that a thing of value like that may lead someone to take another’s life?’

  ‘Are you saying Penrose may have been murdered for the plans?’

  Alec shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It just seems a great many coincidences are all pointing to one conclusion.’

  And the greatest coincidence of all was the possible involvement of Charles Cowper, but now was not the time to start throwing accusations at one of the town’s most prominent citizens. The way to Cowper was through Tehan.

  Maidment stared into a corner of the room for a long, long moment. ‘Strange you should say that. I’ve just had a similar conversation with Miss Penrose. As I told her, the coroner didn’t find Penrose’s death suspicious and in the absence of new evidence of foul play, there’s nothing I can do.’ He straightened. ‘I suggest both you and Miss Penrose get on with your own business and leave me to mine. Good day to you, Mr McLeod.’

  After the policeman left, Alec closed his eyes, allowing himself to drowse in front of the fire as the winter evening drew in.

  Another knock on the door jerked him awake again.

  ‘If that’s Flora, tell her to go away,’ he said to Ian, making sure his brother understood every word.

  Ian smiled. ‘You don’t fancy the tender ministrations of Miss Donald?’

  ‘No.’

  Ian answered the door and he heard a woman’s voice at the door. He shivered as the cold air crept in dissipating the warmth.

  ‘Shut the bloody door,’ Alec said.

  ‘My, my, Mr McLeod, you do sound out of sorts.’

  Alec’s heart lifted at the sound of Eliza Penrose’s voice. He waved a hand at the other chair. ‘Come and sit down, Eliza. Ian, can you offer Miss Penrose tea?’

  Ian shot his brother an amused glance. ‘The amount of tea I’m making today, I think I’ll seek employment in a tea room.’

  Eliza smiled as she shut the door behind her and came to stand beside the fire, rubbing her hands together. ‘It is perishing out there.’ She gave him a quick smile. ‘It’s a relief to see you up.’

  Alec touched the lump on his head. ‘A bit sore and sorry, but better for seeing you—’ He broke off, the heat rushing to his face as the trite words fell into the space between them.

  Eliza reached for his hand. ‘And I’m better for seeing you.’

  She curled her fingers in his, soft and slender and very, very cold. He covered her hand with both of his, trying to instil some warmth back into her.

  ‘I can’t stay.’ She pulled her hand from his grip. ‘I came to say I am leaving on the coach tomorrow.’

  A hollow feeling formed in the pit of Alec’s stomach but apart from the theft of the plans, nothing had changed. She had to make this trip to Melbourne.

  Eliza glanced out the window at the lowering sky, the gloom of a winter’s evening already spreading across the valley. ‘I don’t want to leave, but …’

  ‘You’ve only been here a short time, Eliza, and you’ll be safer in Melbourne. I think you should stay there.’

  ‘But time is immaterial. I—I feel I belong here. Will brought me to Maiden’s Creek for a reason.’

  Her grey eyes filled with tears and he realised that the brave face she put on for the world was not matched by the grief and loneliness of a life without her brother.

  He kissed her fingers, wishing he could take her in his arms. ‘It need not be forever. Put some distance between you and Cowper. He may yet make a mistake. Ian and I will watch out for your interests and if you are worried for me, don’t be. Cowper needs me.’

  She smiled. ‘You’re very sure of yourself.’

  ‘I’m very good at what I do.’

  ‘And modest too.’

  They sat in silence for a long moment, watching the crackling of the logs.

  ‘I’m sorry I lost the plans,’ she said at last.

  Alec looked up at her and smiled. ‘You haven’t.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I made a copy.’

  She stared at him.

  ‘Hidden in my bedroom. There’s a floorboard under the bed. You’ll find the plans and the ledger entries there.’

  She stood up, thumping him lightly on the arm. ‘Why didn’t you say?’

  ‘I felt it would have been irresponsible to send the only copy out of my custody without some insurance.’

  She and Ian went to Alec’s room and returned with the copy of the plans. She spread the pages out on the table, running her finger over the design and the calculations. She straightened and stood for a long time, chewing her bottom lip. When she looked up at him he saw an unfamiliar gleam in her eye.

  ‘Do you have something stronger than tea?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes. In that cupboard. Pour me one too,’ Alec replied.

  Eliza pulled out the whisky bottle, found two glasses and poured them both a couple of fingers.

  ‘Not with a head wound,’ Ian protested but Alec held up his hand.

  ‘I take full responsibility for my own negligence.’

  Eliza paced the floor several times, taking sips of the whisky before she stopped in front of him, a small, defiant figure in a dark green gown. ‘I think I know where the error lies,’ she said. ‘The design is predicated on cast iron. Cast iron won’t take the pressure of the extra heat and energy in the firebox. It will cause a catastrophic explosion.’

  Heedless of his sore head, Alec rose and joined her at the table. He reached for pencil and paper and together they redid the calculations for the Carnot cycle.

  ‘You are wasted teaching children,’ Alec said. ‘Why did you see that and neither Penrose nor I did?’

  ‘Because you were too close to it. With the right material like a wrought iron—’

  ‘Or a steel alloy.’

  She looked at him with shining eyes. ‘I will redo the calculations and instruct the lawyer to lodge it with the Patents Office. Perhaps Ian can leave it with Amos Burrell for safekeeping tonight? I dare not take it away with me, although …’ A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. ‘If my uncle did go to the trouble of arranging the theft of the original, then all he has is a worthless piece of paper.’ She threw her arms around him. ‘Alec, if we can build a prototype we’ll make a fortune.’

  For a fleeting moment he stiffened but her excitement was contagious and he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into him.

  ‘You,’ he whispered into her hair, ‘you will make a fortune. It’s your design, not mine.’

  ‘No. It has to be both of us. Partners.’

  Distantly Alec heard the click of the back door as Ian made a tactful exit. Eliza fitted in his embrace as if she had always belonged there and her shining eyes and parted lips drew him like a magnet. He kissed her and found her lips soft and sweet and yielding. The world beyond the two of them vanished. He closed his eyes and she gave a soft sigh, returning his kiss with a passion of her own. It had been so long, so very long. She wasn’t Catriona and he didn’t want her to be Catriona. She was Eliza … his Eliza.

  They drew apart and she cupped his face in her hands, looking at him with wonder. ‘No one has ever kissed me like you do.’

  He meshed his fingers in her hair, marvelling at the silkiness of it. ‘So much to teach you then.’

  He tightened his arms, never wanting to let her go. S
he looked at him and he saw tears in her eyes. Appalled at the thought he could be the cause of distress, he released her. A tear sparkled on her lower lash and, in the light from the fire, blazed a golden trail down her cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb.

  ‘Eliza, I’m so sorry. It’s been a long time and I’m a clumsy fool.’

  She laughed and caught his hand. ‘You darling man, if there are tears, they are tears of happiness. I don’t know what it is to love or be loved, but if this is what it feels like, I don’t ever want to leave you.’ She paused and the smile slipped. ‘But I must go to Melbourne.’

  The thought of parting from her tore at his heart. How could he protect her when she was a hundred miles away?

  She smiled and touched his face, sending sparks of fire through his body. ‘From the moment you knocked me into the mud, I thought you were different. Can we—dare we—’

  He caught her hand, closing his eyes as he brought the palm to his lips. A hundred inadequate words jostled in his head but when it came to speaking, all he could manage was an inarticulate grunt.

  She pulled her hand away. ‘I have to go, Alec. Poor Ian is probably freezing outside.’

  ‘Eliza, I …’

  She looked at him expectantly. He wondered if he could say the words he’d said to only one other person in his life.

  ‘I … will be waiting for you.’

  She nodded. ‘I will be back, Alec.’

  By the time he had summoned a coherent sentence, she had gone.

  I love you …

  Twenty-Two

  23 July 1873

  Melbourne, Victoria

  It had only been a matter of weeks since Eliza had left Melbourne with hope in her heart, bound for Maiden’s Creek and reunion with her brother. Now she had returned, her journey uneventful but tiring. She had no compunction in accepting her uncle’s offer of accommodation at the Menzies Hotel in Bourke Street, a magnificent modern hotel and reputedly the best in Melbourne.

  Installed in relative luxury with fresh linen sheets, a thick rug on the floor and a fire burning in the hearth, she should have been content, but her mind kept returning to Maiden’s Creek and the people she had left behind. People she had grown fond of. People she might have even grown to love.

  The bleak weather and the cold wind blowing down Collins Street reflected her mood. The shops with their bright merchandise held no interest as she trudged the crowded footpath, the paper on which she had written the address of Will’s solicitor clutched tightly in her gloved hand.

  Will Penrose’s lawyers were to be found up a flight of stairs in a solid, respectable red brick building at the top end of Collins Street. Eliza, used to the steep paths of Maiden’s Creek, took the stairs without pausing for breath and pushed open the solid cedar door to step into the plush offices of Messrs Kennedy, Bolton and Briscoe.

  ‘Miss Penrose.’ Mr Kennedy himself came out to greet her, a man in late middle age with sparse grey hair and a pallid complexion. He took her gloved hands in a firm grip and with a suitably sorrowful expression, said, ‘Please accept my condolences on the death of your brother.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘It was my great pleasure to conduct the legal work for your brother and of course his partners in the Shenandoah Mine. Have you had the pleasure of meeting Mr and Mrs Hunt?’

  ‘No, they are still abroad.’

  Kennedy ushered her into the office, pausing only to order ‘tea for our guest’.

  As the clerk set down the tray and poured, Kennedy said, ‘Now, what can I do for you?’

  Eliza laid the envelope with the copy of Will’s plans on the desk. ‘My brother drew up these plans for a new design of an industrial boiler,’ she said. ‘I would like you to lodge it with the Patents Office as soon as possible.’

  Kennedy drew out the plans, frowning as he studied the calculations. ‘There is a great deal of crossing out. I’m not sure the Patents Office will accept it in this form.’

  ‘The important thing is to lodge it,’ Eliza said. ‘It’s a copy of the original design which was recently stolen and I do not wish the stolen copy to be lodged before this one.’ She paused. ‘Apart from anything else, the calculations on the original are wrong. Those are the amendments you can see.’

  ‘What does it do?’ Kennedy asked.

  ‘The improved firebox will ensure better combustion which in turn will produce hotter steam. It will be a boiler so much more efficient that it will reduce the size needed, use less fuel and have a higher energy output.’

  Kennedy stared at her. ‘You sound like you understand these plans. Hardly a matter for a lady such as yourself. Your brother’s work, I presume?’

  Eliza bit back the sharp retort. ‘I do understand these matters and a friend and I have reworked the calculations to ensure the correct Carnot cycle.’

  Kennedy shook his head and laughed. ‘I have no idea what you are talking about, Miss Penrose, but I see the urgency and will ensure this is properly lodged this afternoon.’

  Relief flooded Eliza and she thanked the lawyer.

  ‘Is there anything else I can assist you with?’ He looked at her expectantly.

  ‘Yes, I have a concern about my brother’s will. Did you handle the probate?’

  ‘No, alas. Your uncle saw fit to use his own firm of lawyers, Prendergast and Pratt, for that.’

  ‘But you drew up the will for him?’

  ‘I did draw up a will for Mr Penrose at the time he entered into the business arrangements for the Shenandoah Mine.’ Kennedy gave the impression he was choosing his words carefully.

  Eliza took a steadying sip of the tea. ‘And what were the terms of that will?’

  ‘He left a bequest to a friend and everything else to you, his sister. It could not have been clearer.’

  The cup rattled in its saucer as she set it back down on the table. ‘Everything?’

  ‘That’s correct. In fact, I recall him saying quite clearly that he was pleased to be in a position to see you established for life should anything happen to him.’ Kennedy shook his head. ‘Sadly prophetic in the circumstances. Which is why it surprised me to hear of a second will.’

  She picked up the hesitancy in the lawyer’s manner and asked, ‘Do you have a concern about the second will?’

  ‘It’s not uncommon for people to change their wills and he was at liberty to make another with, say, Prendergast and Pratt, or simply draw it up himself. Although that often leads to difficulties with the legality of such a document. The stories I could tell you—’

  Eliza leaned forward. ‘I have been told that under the terms of his last will, the one I presume was approved in court, his interest in the Shenandoah Mine passed to my uncle. All William left me was cash in hand and his personal possessions, and there was little of either.’

  The man’s eyebrows lifted. ‘That is certainly not the document I settled with him.’

  ‘I don’t wish to sound ungrateful, Mr Kennedy. My uncle tells me that the mine has not lived up to its early promise and is worthless, that my brother did not wish to saddle me with the possible debts its failure would entail.’

  Kennedy sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers. ‘Really? That does surprise me. I helped your brother and Mr Hunt draw up the prospectus and there was nothing to indicate that the early promise would not be realised.’

  ‘That is what I suspected. It seems I need your help if I am to dispute the will, Mr Kennedy.’ She swallowed. ‘But you should know that in my present circumstances I do not have the money to pay you immediately.’

  He spread his hands. ‘We are at your service, Miss Penrose. I liked your brother and if there is something I can do to alleviate your situation, then I hope I can be of help.’

  ‘I suspect that my brother’s second will may be a forgery. Is it possible to see the will that was presented for probate?’

  Kennedy nodded. ‘It is a matter of public record at the Supreme Court.’ He studied her. ‘Is there something else trou
bling you?”

  She nodded. ‘It is related to the issue with the will. I believe gold from Shenandoah is being used to bolster the returns of the Maiden’s Creek Mine. I have seen the ledgers for both mines and there is a definite lift in the returns from Maiden’s Creek at the same time Shenandoah is diminishing.’

  She took out the papers Ian had copied and walked the lawyer through them.

  He nodded. ‘It certainly looks like you may be right. Are you suggesting your uncle may be stealing the gold?’

  Eliza took a breath. ‘Yes, and I suspect him of forging my brother’s will. Thanks to the terms of my brother’s second will, my uncle now has unfettered access to the mine and the gold.’

  Kennedy tutted. ‘Dear oh dear. This is unfortunate.’ He pulled a magnificent gold watch from his waistcoat. ‘I have an hour to spare. If you don’t mind a short walk, we can pay a visit to the court and inspect this will. You may be able to tell me if your suspicion is correct.’

  The man seemed to take an age fiddling with his coat and hat and a silver-topped ebony walking stick before he was ready to go. They traversed several blocks from Kennedy’s office to the Supreme Court building on the corner of Russell and Latrobe Streets. To Eliza’s irritation, Kennedy took his time, pointing out the sights of Melbourne as he went, as if they were on a guided tour not an urgent mission.

  ‘We are getting a grand new court,’ he said, gesturing with his stick down Lonsdale Street where the skeleton of an enormous building could be seen rising on a hill. ‘Until then, our judiciary are somewhat pressed for accommodation. Ah, here we are.’

  The present court buildings looked like they had been cobbled together with bits added when extra space was required. The interior was a rabbit warren of corridors and doors but her guide knew the building well and the staff in the registrar’s office greeted him by name. Kennedy requested to see the recent probate of one William Josiah Penrose and a folder was handed to him with strict orders about not removing documents. Kennedy waved the concerns away and led Eliza to a tall bench where he opened the file and began turning over the heavy court papers with a frustrating slowness.