‘It were him I told, sir. He sent me straight to Mr Cornish who fetched the sergeant. Paid me thirty pounds on top of the reward money. Thirty pieces of silver, more like it, and I’ve been cursed ever since. I want you to know how sorry I am.’
Luke released Molly’s hand and tried to make sense of her words.
So . . . it was Edward Abbott who’d betrayed him. Who’d wanted him hanged for the crime of protecting Belle, the girl he’d professed to love and went on to marry. Luke’s heart hammered against his ribs so hard it hurt. Why? Not to avenge his father, surely? Edward hated Henry. Luke had done him a favour, freeing him from under the thumb. No, this was about Belle. The one way Edward could ensure Luke was out of her life forever. Or so he’d thought. Luke’s hands clenched into fists. Big mistake.
Molly stood up. ‘I should go.’
‘No.’ Luke sat her gently back down. ‘It’s my turn to apologise. I was an ungrateful young fool back then. You took me in, looked after me . . . It was unforgiveable the way I treated you. By disrespecting you, I hurt Angus as well. He didn’t deserve that.’ Luke couldn’t meet her eyes. ‘Angus loved you very much, Molly, he told me all the time. I think I was jealous of that love. Can you forgive me?’
When he looked up, her eyes were streaming with silent tears. He knew now what Angus had loved about this woman: her courage, her generosity, her strong moral compass. Molly could have gone to the papers, earned a fortune for the story of the year. The famous Colonel Lucas Buchanan, war hero and millionaire, exposed as a poor boy from Hobart, an escaped murderer, destined for the gallows. Or she could have kept quiet, accepting his patronage and hoping it continued. Instead, she’d risked everything to tell him the truth.
‘A peace above all earthly dignities,’ he murmured. ‘A still and quiet conscience.’
‘What’s that, sir?’
‘Shakespeare, Molly. You embody that quote far better than Thomas Wolsey ever did. It would be my honour if you’d remain here as my guest.’
Molly flushed with pleasure and relief. ‘I won’t be no burden. Once I’m well I’ll get a job and pay me own way.’
‘As you wish.’ He stood up, wiped his face with a napkin and kissed her. ‘From now on, you should suit yourself in all things.’
Becky glanced around and closed the classroom door behind her. ‘Luke, what on earth are you doing here?’ Her voice an angry whisper. ‘Belle is just down the corridor.’
‘I’ve rented a house.’
‘Where? You don’t mean in Hobart?’
‘Not far from here, actually.’
Becky took Luke’s arm, hurried him down the hall and out the front door. ‘You have to go.’
He took an address from his pocket and pressed it into her hand. ‘Come round tonight. I’ll cook you dinner.’
‘You will?’
Luke grinned. ‘See you at six. Housewarming.’
Becky arrived early at the thoroughly modern single-storey home of red brick. It had a rambling garden and gables carved with kangaroos and kookaburras. Becky loved it. Luke showed her through its charming rooms, which were more cosy than grand, with window seats, chimney corners and arched leadlight windows sporting wattle and waratah designs.
‘Nobody knows about this place.’ Luke stoked the fire in the front room. ‘It will be my haven, my bolthole. A chance to escape the spotlight. Do you know it’s been six weeks, and newsmen are still camped outside my hotel?’
‘Luke . . .’
‘I’ve made your favourite, Beck. At least, it used to be your favourite: corned beef and cabbage followed by apple pie. The pie’s from the hotel kitchen, but I cooked the rest myself.’
Becky frowned. ‘What are you doing?’
He poured her a large glass of wine. ‘Drink this and I’ll tell you a story.’
Becky held out her glass to be refilled. ‘It was Edward who betrayed you? I can’t believe it.’
‘Do you think Belle knows?’ Luke could barely look at his sister as he asked. The pain if Belle did . . .
‘Absolutely not. We’ve often talked about that night. Belle thinks that Edward did everything he could to protect you.’
‘By paying Molly thirty pounds to turn me in?’
Becky went pale. ‘Believe me, Belle has no idea.’
‘Perhaps it’s time she did.’
‘It would devastate her, Luke, and to what end? To make her marriage more torturous than it already is?’
‘So her marriage is torturous?’
‘I spoke out of turn.’ Becky gulped her wine. ‘Can we eat now? I’m starving.’
After dinner, they sat before the fire, drinking hot cocoa, lost in thought. It could have been the old days. Lamplight and shadow-flames dancing on the wall. Becky’s face in the glow of the firelight, turning back the clock. Her profile like that of a young girl.
They used teaspoons to scoop up the last of the sweet, chocolatey froth.
At last Becky spoke. ‘You’ve made up your mind then – to stay?’
‘Yes.’
‘Despite the danger?’
‘Yes.’
‘You can’t have Belle.’
‘Can’t I?’
‘You’re dead, remember? And even if you weren’t . . .’ Becky came over, knelt down in front of Luke’s chair and laid her head on his knee. ‘Before Elizabeth Campbell died, she asked Belle to promise her something. “Whatever happens, stay with Edward and make the marriage work. Be the strong one, for the sake of Robbie and the girls.” Belle made that solemn promise to her mother. She won’t resile from it. Edward would have to hit rock bottom before she would abandon him.’ She yawned. ‘Let’s not talk about it any more.’
Luke stroked Becky’s hair for the longest time, digesting what she’d told him. A deathbed vow. It was almost funny, Elizabeth still managing to keep them apart.
Half an hour later, when he looked down, Becky was asleep.
‘So Edward would have to hit rock bottom,’ he murmured. ‘That could be arranged.’
CHAPTER 59
‘I’m dining with the Colonel at my club tonight.’
‘Again?’ Belle dropped a sugar lump into her tea. ‘That’s three times this week. Why not bring him here instead?’
‘I thought you couldn’t bear him? That you believed him greedy and ignorant.’
‘Perhaps I misjudged him. I’ve heard he has a clever wit.’
‘You’d be bored stupid, Belle. All that business talk.’
She did not look convinced. ‘Is anything coming of all that talk?’
‘Nothing definite, but he’s hinted at an investment opportunity in the works. I have to be patient. He’s not a man to be hurried.’ His wife’s cool gaze unsettled him. ‘In any case, there’s more to life than business. I like him. We have a great deal in common.’
Belle’s faintly raised eyebrow said it all. She didn’t believe an important and successful man like the Colonel would want to socialise with someone like him. To hell with her. ‘Think what you want. I’m going to the office.’
‘Before you go . . . Yesterday I asked Benny to harness my greys, and he said they’d gone. Have you turned them out to spell?’
‘No, I sold them.’
Belle’s mouth fell open. ‘They weren’t yours to sell. Papa gave them to me. He paid a hundred pounds for Martini and almost as much for Sultan.’
‘Then he’d be pleased to know I more than doubled his money.’
‘Who would pay double what they’re worth? We don’t need the money, Eddie. My father gave them to me . . . You must bring them back or I’ll never speak to you again.’ She shoved her chair back from the table, spilling her tea. He watched the liquid soak into the tablecloth as she slammed the door behind her.
They did need the money, actually. With timber and wool prices still in the doldrums, he’d ploughed their dividends back into the mine to pay for excavating new shafts. Things would be tight for a while. He’d already sold off a few farms and forestry coupes. If s
he reacted this badly to losing a couple of horses, what would she do when she learned Binburra was on the market? I’ll never speak to you again. An empty threat. She barely spoke to him anyway.
Edward had been lonely for a long time. Robbie at school. No real connection with Belle. And, as his fortunes had fallen, old friends dropped away. There was Fanny, of course, but their relationship had its limitations. It didn’t help that booze and laudanum had rendered him mostly useless in bed. Apart from the physical side of things, there wasn’t much companionship to be found with an ignorant eighteen-year-old girl, however beautiful.
The Colonel had come along at a time when he could really use a friend . . . and what a friend! The once-reclusive millionaire had spread his wings. He was guest of honour at business banquets, charity galas and society balls. Dazzling Hobart’s upper crust with his good looks, charm and charisma. Edward helped to arrange these functions, and it did not go unnoticed that he was often at the Colonel’s side. In the eyes of his peers, Edward’s stocks were rising fast.
However, reflected glory wasn’t enough to keep it that way. He needed substance as well as style. It had been more than two months now since they’d met. Time to draw Lucas out, to discover what he was really doing in Hobart.
The Mountbatten Club was busy that night. Lucas insisted they sit at a separate alcove for pre-dinner drinks, beneath an outsized portrait of Tasmania’s first Lieutenant-Governor. This private seating arrangement seemed promising enough, but then the Colonel avoided all talk of business.
‘I haven’t met your good wife, Ed. We must remedy that.’
‘My wife?’
‘You do have one, don’t you? I fear we’ve raised some eyebrows along the way: me without a lady on my arm, and you without your wife at these soirées.’
Edward forced a smile. Great. First Belle and now Lucas. Theirs was an encounter he intended to put off for as long as possible. The Colonel was a man of the world. As such, he understood about the seedier side of Edward’s life: the booze, the drugs, the gambling. Fanny.
Belle, on the other hand? If she did know of his excesses, she had turned a blind eye. No doubt she’d drawn her own conclusions from his overnight absences, but so far she’d never been confronted by the bald facts. The outspoken Colonel might well let something slip.
If Edward was honest, there was another reason why he didn’t want the two of them to meet. He valued his new alliance, cherished it even. Of all the people Lucas could have befriended in Hobart, he’d chosen Edward. It was hugely flattering. Lucas was also a handsome charmer, popular with the ladies, although he never favoured anyone in particular. He was sure to be impressed by Edward’s beautiful, intelligent wife. And vice versa. Perversely, he wanted to keep Lucas to himself.
‘My wife has no heart for frivolous parties. She prefers books, philosophy and art. And a secluded life.’
‘You are ill-matched then.’
Edward flinched. Innocent remark or insult? He couldn’t tell. That lack of tact was precisely why he didn’t want Lucas anywhere near Belle.
Their venison soup arrived, interrupting the moment. By the time the roast beef came, Lucas seemed to have forgotten his campaign to meet Belle. He’d relaxed, had a few drinks. It was time to bring up the topic of investment. However, just as Edward was planning his move, the Colonel beat him to it.
‘I received my geologist’s report today, Ed. On a potential diamond field in the state’s north-west. Turns out it’s quite promising.’
‘You kept that quiet. I had no idea you had a team on the ground.’
‘Which is precisely the way I wanted it.’ Lucas returned to his meal. ‘This Yorkshire pudding is damn good.’
Edward waited on tenterhooks. How could the man drop a bombshell like that and then change the subject? It was maddening. Time ticked by.
Lucas looked up. ‘Something wrong with your meal?’
‘No. No, it’s just . . . I’d like to hear more about that report.’
Lucas put down his cutlery and wiped his chin. ‘Truth is, Ed, I’m looking for an investor. Tasmania’s a long way from South Africa. I need someone local on the ground to oversee the operation. Someone I can trust.’
Edward wet his lips and tried to stay calm. This was it. This was what he’d been waiting for.
Lucas looked him straight in the eye. ‘Would you be interested, Ed?’
‘Why yes, I might be.’
Lucas reached over and slapped him on the back. ‘Good man. I’ll send the preliminary report over tomorrow, but in the meantime . . .’ He took a small kidskin pouch from his coat pocket and poured a glittering cascade of stones onto the table. ‘Samples from the site. You’ll find a few garnets and zircons among them, which, as you’ll know, are diamond indicators. All from an unusually rich placer deposit, with the probability of underground kimberlite pipes.’ He plucked a blue-white gem from the pile. ‘That’s a two-carat stone right there.’ Lucas dropped it in the palm of Edward’s hand.
Edward stared at the rough diamond, rubbed its shining surface between his fingertips. He’d never understood gold fever, the kind that sent men into the unforgiving wilderness, prepared to risk their lives, to bear any hardship in the hope they’d one day find a golden flash in their pan. But diamonds were altogether more seductive.
It was a wrench to hand back the stone. Already he missed touching it. ‘Fragments of stars,’ said Lucas. ‘Tears of the gods.’ He trailed his finger through the gems.
Edward glanced around the room, jealous someone might see. He angled his chair between the diamonds and the rest of the room. ‘When can I have the report?’
‘First thing in the morning.’
‘I’ll need to send my own engineers to evaluate the site.’
‘Of course.’
Now for the big question. ‘How much are we talking?’
Lucas returned the diamonds to their pouch. ‘Ninety thousand pounds for a third share.’
Edward turned the figure over in his mind. Difficult to come up with that sort of money, especially now, but not impossible. He could sell some more properties, his shares in the shipyard . . . borrow the rest. A craving hit him hard, whether for the future diamond mine or the silver flask in his pocket, he couldn’t tell.
‘I’ll throw these in to sweeten the deal.’ Lucas tossed him the pouch.
‘It could take a while to raise the capital.’
‘You have until the end of the month.’ Lucas lit a cigarette as a waiter cleared the table. ‘In the meantime, I’m in the market for a country retreat, a place where I can escape the press. Cost is no object.’
Edward thought of the extravagant price Lucas had paid for Belle’s pair in hand. This was too good an opportunity to miss. ‘I can help you there. A lovely estate of mine at Hills End is for sale. Elegant homestead, magnificent scenery. Out of the way. It belonged to my late father-in-law.’
‘Excellent. I’ll take it.’
‘Surely you want to see the property . . .’
Lucas held up his hand. ‘I trust your recommendation.’
Edward couldn’t believe his good fortune. ‘Some champagne to celebrate?’
‘I’m afraid not, Ed.’ Lucas stood up. ‘Have the contract of sale ready for me by tomorrow afternoon, with a fourteen-day settlement period. I’m anxious to get out of town.’ He stubbed his cigarette. ‘And keep our deal under your hat.’ With that he marched from the club.
Edward ordered the champagne anyway, his mind a whirl. In the space of one evening his life had entirely changed. A shiny new investment opportunity. A means to climb out of the financial hole he’d dug for himself.
He’d never had the business acumen or ruthlessness of his father, no matter how hard he worked at it. Yet now? A partnership with one of the wealthiest men in the world. Edward longed to shout it from the rooftops, longed to watch his former friends come crawling back.
This change in fortune, wonderful as it was, seemed hollow without someone to share it wit
h. It might be weeks before he could make any public announcement. He wished Robbie were home from school. His son would be thrilled with the news, proud of his father. They shared a bond that meant the world to Edward. In Robbie’s eyes he could do no wrong.
What about Belle? Would this stunning coup be enough to make her think well of him again? Possibly, if it wasn’t for the small matter of him selling Binburra. She still didn’t know about that, and he couldn’t put off telling her for much longer. He’d have to give her some time to get over it, but then, who knew? This could be the beginning of a new chapter in their lives, a resurrection of their love. They were both well rid of the place. Too many memories. One day she’d understand, but he didn’t have the fortitude to face her tonight. He resisted the urge to reach for his hipflask. Time to clean up his act, become a man his wife could be proud of again.
The Premier came across to his table. ‘You look like the cat that ate the cream, Ed.’ He nodded at the bottle of French champagne. ‘What’s this in honour of? You dined with the Colonel tonight. Anything you want to tell me?’
‘All in good time, Neil. All in good time.’
The Premier gave him a shrewd look. ‘I’m having a pheasant shoot at my Glenorchy estate next week. Just a few close friends. Why not join us? Bring the Colonel if you like.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
Edward watched the Premier leave the dining room with immense satisfaction. It was happening already. By the time this deal became public, he’d be the talk of the town.
To hell with celebrating alone. He’d spend the night with Fanny, the one person he could rely on for a warm reception, if only because he paid her bills. Then tomorrow he would go home and tackle Belle.
It was near midnight when a cab dropped him off at the Lillie Street terrace. Edward used his key to get in, then went upstairs to Fanny’s rooms, trying to decide how much to tell her. He was bursting to share at least some part of his news.
He knocked on her door. ‘Fanny?’ Knocking louder this time.
The door on the opposite side of the landing swung open, and a hard-faced young woman in a dressing-gown stepped out. ‘That won’t do you no good, sir. Fanny’s gone.’
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