Ghost Gum Valley

by Johanna Nicholls

  ‘I told you my plan was far better...!’

  Isabel watched the two men in her life arguing amiably as Marmaduke steered Garnet inside the bedroom and closed the door behind them. Isabel was left holding the candle and the duelling pistol, her face wet with tears of happiness.

  Chapter 53

  That autumn had the lingering feeling of an endless summer. Marmaduke rode Dangar towards Bloodwood village to await the arrival of the Gamble carriage from Sydney Town.

  Edwin would be travelling with Rose Alba and Marmaduke hoped his friend was coming armed with her adoption papers. As far as Marmaduke knew Silas was still not aware of the existence of the child Isabel had hidden from him since her birth so he would be unlikely to lay claim to her. But Marmaduke was taking no chances. Above all Isabel must be kept calm during the remaining weeks before the birth.

  The possibility of the travellers’ encounter with bushrangers worried Marmaduke less than the escalation of Silas’s violent acts of subterfuge. Since the destruction of Mingaletta all had been quiet until Marmaduke discovered the pressed white roses that had become his weekly ritual. Marmaduke knew this was Silas’s unspoken message to Isabel that he would never cease his stalking, never relinquish the power he had held over her mind since she was a child.

  En route to Bloodwood village Marmaduke was determined to put the first stage of his plan into action.

  I refuse to stand by and have my girl living in fear of a coward who hasn’t got the guts to show his hand. Silas de Rolland is going to come face to face with me. I’m gunna put an end to his long reign of terror one way or another.

  He turned off the road that led to Bloodwood village and rode through the gates of Penkivil Park. At the sight of the mansion at the end of the avenue of Dutch elm trees he was reminded of the dramatic irony of this moment – the contrast between past and present.

  Miranda Gamble, the socially acceptable daughter of Colonel McAlpine, had attended Captain Dench’s balls and assemblies in this grand house accompanied by Garnet, her socially tolerated husband. As a boy Marmaduke had attended the Dench son’s birthday party. But following his mother’s death and Elise’s installation as mistress of Bloodwood Hall, Garnet’s name had been eliminated from the captain’s invitation list. The scandal of Marmaduke’s duel and the death of his tutor von Starbold (rumoured in the village to be a German aristocrat) had put the seal on the Gambles being socially ostracised throughout the locality.

  Marmaduke was grimly amused to think that it had taken Captain Dench’s departure for India with his battalion and the consequent leasing of his estate to Silas de Rolland (known to be an English aristocrat), for Marmaduke to be able to return to Penkivil Park albeit as an unwelcome guest.

  The Penkivil Park mansion was not architecturally as ostentatious as Bloodwood Hall but grand enough in the English Georgian tradition to be a showpiece in the county. Silas de Rolland had wasted no time in putting his own stamp on the estate and was already known for the lavish hospitality of his balls, banquets, assemblies and the kangaroo hunts that replaced traditional English fox hunts.

  The star performer of this evening’s assembly of the Quality would be Josepha St John.

  At the front portico finely dressed gentlemen and their ladies were in the process of alighting from their carriages and being ushered inside by servants in silver-trimmed livery. It was known that de Rolland had refused to allow assigned men and women under his roof. All in his service were bona fide English servants who came free – and knew their place.

  In the entrance hall Marmaduke placed his card on the silver salver to ensure Silas knew he had called. Then he handed his letter to the tall, cadaverous English butler.

  ‘I’m a friend of Madame St John’s. This letter’s dead urgent. I’m sure the lady will appreciate its safe delivery.’

  With not so much as a flicker of an eyelid at the marked contrast between the elegantly dressed guests and Marmaduke’s long hair, moleskin trousers and riding boots, the butler inclined his head and politely assured him of the letter’s immediate delivery.

  No doubt about Pommie butlers. Their manners run rings around the jumped-up gentry in this colony.

  On the point of making his exit Marmaduke’s step faltered at the sight of a lady standing apart from the crowd. She wore a low-cut black satin gown, a shawl of black ostrich feathers and the moment she caught his eye she assumed a haughty demeanour. Elise was doing her damnedest to look like a lady.

  Marmaduke was divided between ignoring her and bowing in her direction, but decided Elise would be appalled to have people notice she was acquainted with a disreputable Currency Lad. So he enjoyed her shocked expression when he openly gave her a thumbs-up sign of approval. Just then Garnet’s friend Magistrate Summerhayes crossed to Elise and offered her his arm to escort her to the assembly room. The flirtatious way she lowered her eyes and clung to Summerhayes’s arm gave Marmaduke a sense of grim satisfaction.

  Up to her old tricks again. Thank God she’s hooked another fish. That’s one problem less for Garnet to worry about.

  As Marmaduke turned to take his leave he was alerted by the sound of a man’s voice behind him. Who could forget the arrogant accent that had ordered Cooper the pugilist to burn his house down?

  Marmaduke turned around in the hope of confronting Silas de Rolland but the milling guests concealed him. Marmaduke sauntered down the steps and remounted his horse.

  That bastard’s as slippery as a Parramatta eel. He’s damaged every part of my life yet I still haven’t set eyes on the mongrel.

  Marmaduke took the horse at a gallop in the direction of Bloodwood village. A few hundred yards before the bridge at Scavengers Creek he caught sight of the Gamble carriage on the opposite bank. Beside the wooden pylons of the bridge that spanned the creek, Thomas stood in front of the carriage, waving his arms as if in warning.

  Thomas looks agitated. Shit! The bridge has gone!

  Scavengers Creek was a scene of carnage. A giant Bloodwood eucalypt had fallen, smashing the narrow single-carriage bridge into a heap of kindling.

  ‘G’day, Thomas,’ Marmaduke called out against the noise of the rushing waters.

  Thomas pulled off his tricorn hat and slapped it against his thigh in frustration.

  ‘So what the bloody hell do I do with your guests? Mr Bentleigh checked the Garnet and Rose, but that bloodhouse ain’t fit for a little kiddie.’

  Edwin emerged from the carriage carrying the sleeping child. Peering down at the rapid current he looked extremely anxious. Rural life was not Edwin’s forte.

  ‘Any bright ideas, Marmaduke? I’m here to deliver this child and sort out your father’s problems, but I absolutely must be back in court on Monday – or some inept fool will get my client hanged!’

  ‘Hold your horses, mate. I’ll get you across, just you watch.’

  Shit! I hope that sounded convincing. What the hell do I do now?’

  Marmaduke stripped off down to his trousers, removed his boots and tied them together with the cord that he used to tie back his hair. Boots in hand he backed away from the creek and then like a demon bowler at a cricket match made a flying run towards the creek. Pulling up inches from the edge, he swung his arm in an over-arm throw that sent his boots hurling across the creek to be fielded by Thomas.

  ‘Jolly good show!’ Edwin shouted in admiration. ‘I’ve always said you’d be good enough to play for the England team at Lords.’

  ‘Over my dead body,’ said Marmaduke, ‘I’d only bowl against you Pommies, mate.’

  Marmaduke evaluated the potential force of the creek, aware of the danger of rocks and the unknown degree of submerged debris. He decided he needed a good head start to be able to swim against the current. So he walked Dangar upstream about thirty yards then slipped into the water, drew the horse in and swam beside him, forced by the strong current downstream, so that they finally emerged on the opposite bank almost level with the carriage.

  ‘Nice day for a swim, Tho
mas,’ he said.

  Marmaduke went straight to Rose Alba, who was staring at him and the horse wide-eyed in awe.

  Marmaduke felt his heart turn over again at the sight of her sweet, vulnerable little face – so like a miniature Isabel it was uncanny.

  He said the words gently. ‘Remember me, Rose Alba? I’m your Uncle Marmaduke.’

  She nodded. ‘You told me the story of the little black boy and his friend the kangaroo.’

  ‘Plenty more stories where that came from, sweetheart.’

  He took her hand and showed her how Dangar liked to have his nose patted. Standing back, watching the little girl learn to trust the horse before they made the crossing together, he had a quiet exchange with Edwin.

  ‘I take it you have all the legal stuff in hand? I don’t want the traps to pick me up on a charge of kidnapping Rose Alba. And I can’t guarantee Silas won’t wake up to her real identity. The crazy bastard’s obsessed with his so-called royal Plantagenet bloodline. So I want the law on my side – for once.’

  ‘The adoption papers are signed, sealed and delivered by Isabel’s aunt. She was adamant the child must be reunited with Isabel now but the lady herself is not yet fit to travel. Don’t worry. Maeve said to assure you she is taking good care of Elisabeth Ogden at our Wool-loomooloo house.’ Edwin looked discomfited. ‘You understand why your family could no longer stay in the Gamble family suite at the Princess Alexandrina Hotel?’

  ‘The Bank of New South Wales foreclosed on it. Yeah, I heard. Garnet got done like a dinner – thanks to Silas de Rolland’s recommendations to his board.’

  Edwin apologised profusely that Garnet had mortgaged his properties against his advice and without his knowledge.

  ‘Not your fault, mate. But is Bloodwood Hall safe? It would kill Garnet if he lost that. He built the place to impress Mother.’

  ‘Safe for the time being. And Mingaletta’s deeds are now in your hands so at least you and Isabel will have a roof over your heads.’

  Marmaduke gave a forced laugh. ‘Burnt to the ground, mate. Thanks again to Silas de Rolland. But don’t worry, I’ve just delivered a letter to Penkivil Park that’s likely to force a confrontation.’

  Edwin closed his eyes. ‘Oh God, not another duel?’

  ‘I would if I could, mate, but there’s no way that so-called gentleman would lower himself to accept a challenge from me. In his eyes I’m not only his social inferior. I’m the son of the convict transported on Silas’s crooked evidence. I’m beyond the pale, mate.’

  ‘I’ll advise you of the legal measures you can take, Marmaduke, limited as they are without proof of de Rolland’s crimes. But promise me you will stop short of murder.’

  Marmaduke looked at him levelly. ‘No promises, mate. I’ll do whatever needs to be done. I won’t have my wife living in fear of what he’ll do next. My problem is to find a way to remove the scoundrel from Isabel’s life without losing everything that matters to me – Isabel, my kids, my liberty. If I got killed, Silas would claim her and Rose Alba.’

  Both were aware that Rose Alba was happily talking to the horse. Edwin told him of their encounter with a bolter during the journey and Rose Alba’s plucky response.

  ‘That child seems to see everything, good or bad, as high adventure.’

  Marmaduke was suddenly serious. ‘I’ll give that little kid the best life I can afford. But the fire was a real setback. By the way, mate, Isabel doesn’t know Mingaletta was burnt to the ground. I gave her the impression we lost a couple of rooms in a blaze from a campfire that got out of control. No hint there was any connection to Silas bloody de Rolland. But it means I’ve got to go like the clappers to rebuild it – Isabel’s determined to give birth there!’

  Edwin said quietly, ‘I’ve found you a safe loan. An English settler newly arrived in the Colony is willing to put up the money on a two-year loan at rock-bottom interest rates.’

  ‘Jesus! Who is he? Santa Claus?’

  ‘You’ve always claimed the English are an eccentric race and for once I’d have to agree. I would suggest you don’t argue with good luck. Just sign your name beside The Far Horizon Agricultural Company and the loan is yours.’

  Marmaduke clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Edwin, your blood is worth bottling!’

  Suddenly light of heart Marmaduke crossed to Dangar and talked to him as he would to a mate, briefing the horse and Rose Alba about what was now expected of him. Then he turned to the men.

  ‘Righto, who’s Dangar’s first passenger?’

  Thomas quickly backed down. ‘I can’t swim. Besides there’s only one horse to ride on the other side.’

  Edwin tentatively suggested he would stay overnight at the inn and try his luck in the morning.

  ‘Pikers, both of you!’ Marmaduke said amiably. ‘I’m not letting you off the hook, Edwin. You mightn’t be too hot as a swimmer, but you can hold on to Danger and he’ll do the swimming for you.’

  Edwin nodded unhappily but Marmaduke turned to find Rose Alba had put her hand trustingly in his.

  ‘May I have a ride on Dangar, please, Uncle?’

  Marmaduke bent down on one knee and stroked her hair. ‘Rose Alba, you’re a girl after my own heart. You’re as brave as your big sister Isabel. She can’t wait to meet you. So over you go! I’ll swim beside you – we’ll be across the creek in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.’

  He hoisted Rose Alba onto the horse’s back and walked with them some yards upstream where it was possible to enter the water.

  ‘Can you sing me a song, Rose Alba? Dangar loves music. Right. Now hang on tight, I’ll be beside you all the way.’

  They entered the water and, although buffeted by the current, they swam across the creek with Rose Alba singing ‘God Save the King’.

  Safe on the opposite bank, Rose Alba called to Edwin who was standing nervously awaiting his cue.

  ‘It’s easy, Mr Edwin.’

  Thomas released one of the carriage horses from the harness and walked him upstream to the safest place to cross with Edwin on his back. Marmaduke was amused to see his friend’s eyes were closed all the way.

  He’s a tiger in the courtroom, but as nervy as a kitten in the bush.

  When Edwin was safely deposited at their side, his suit dripping and his face blanched, Rose Alba clapped her hands in delight.

  ‘Isn’t this fun, Uncle Marmaduke? Can we do this again?’

  Marmaduke rocked with laughter. ‘Rose Alba, you were born to be a Currency Lass! And sweetheart, there’s no higher compliment than that in my book.’

  Edwin, shivering with cold, changed into Marmaduke’s dry shirt and Rose Alba’s wet dress was covered by Marmaduke’s jacket as she rode pillion behind him. Marmaduke enjoyed the feeling of being her shield from the wind, her little hands clasped around his waist.

  Rose Alba kept up a string of curious questions about everything they passed. When a kangaroo hopped to the side of the track and cocked its head to one side as they rode past, the child was enchanted.

  ‘I saw a drawing of a kangaroo in a book. I didn’t know they were real!’

  Despite his pleasure in her company Marmaduke grew tense as they rode past the gates of Penkivil Park. Every window in the mansion was alight and the sound of chatter was suddenly hushed, followed by the beautiful strains of a woman singing. There was no mistaking the quality of Josepha St John’s voice and Marmaduke’s seductive memories of her lush body came unbidden.

  Rose Alba’s piping tones jerked him back to the present. ‘What a lovely house. Who lives there, Uncle?’

  ‘Nice enough house, but the man who lives there isn’t nice at all. Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of parties of our own now you’re here, sweetheart.’

  Edwin tried to sound casual. ‘That sounded like Josepha St John’s voice.’

  ‘It was. I’ve invited her to come over and sing for us at Bloodwood Hall in between her concerts at Penkivil Park.’

  Edwin blinked. ‘Good God, that’s opening the door to tr
ouble!’

  ‘There’s no saying she’ll come, but I told her I’d invite her. Don’t worry, Silas de Rolland’s too much of a coward to front up at Bloodwood. He only gets pleasure from manipulating others to carry out his dirty work.’

  Edwin was clearly not convinced and remained silent for the remaining few miles.

  On their arrival Rose Alba was in awe of the size and grandeur of Bloodwood Hall and Marmaduke was reminded it must seem like a palace to her in contrast with the only house she had ever known, a two-room tumbledown cottage in a rural English hamlet.

  When he lifted her down from the horse, Rose Alba looked anxious.

  ‘Oh dear, look at my dress. The red has run from my petticoat!’

  ‘Don’t worry, you look just perfect! Come on, Isabel’s dying to meet you.’

  Marmaduke left Bridget to show Edwin to his room. He carried Rose Alba up to the nursery were Isabel was preparing Queenie’s old bedroom.

  The moment Isabel saw them Marmaduke recognised the flash of panic in her eyes. He knew this long-awaited moment of reunion was something his wife must handle alone. He should withdraw as soon as possible.

  Isabel stared at them. She only managed to stammer out, ‘You’re both wet. Is it raining?’

  ‘It’s a long story, it’ll keep for later,’ he said quickly.

  Bedraggled as she was, Rose Alba made Isabel a deep curtsey. Her polite speech sounded as if it had been drilled into her as carefully as a catechism.

  ‘I am so very pleased to meet you. Aunt Elisabeth sends you her fondest wishes. I will be no trouble at all. I’m four years old but tall for my age. And I’m very quiet – well most of the time.’

  Isabel nodded and smiled but she was nervously fingering her throat as if trying to free the words trapped inside her. Marmaduke decided he must break the ice.