Cry of the Curlew: The Frontier Series 1 (43 page)

‘Granville was not even there,’ Fiona countered. ‘How could he have planned to have the natives kill David? How could you say something like that about your own brother?’

Penelope smiled as her fingers stroked Fiona’s neck and she spoke softly with an edge of bitterness. ‘Because I know my brother and he is capable of great evil. He is very good at destroying anything, and everyone. Granville loves only one thing in life and that is power. He sees all men as competitors . . . and women as a means of satisfying his rather unusual pleasures. But I think you know what I mean by that, Fiona. After all, you share his bed.’

Fiona could feel her cousin’s fingers caress her throat with lingering strokes and her moist, sweet breath on her cheek. There was a strange almost glazed expression on her face that disturbed Fiona in a way that she found compelling enough to let Penny continue to do whatever she wanted with her.

Penelope leant forward and her lips brushed Fiona’s throat while her tongue traced a thin and sensuous line up to her lips. The kiss was soft but strong. The pain Fiona was feeling dissolved and she was vaguely aware that her cousin’s kiss was causing her confused and wonderfully forbidden feelings.

No words passed between them as Fiona let her hand be lifted by Penelope to touch her breasts under the chemise.

‘Forget everything,’ Penelope whispered hoarsely. ‘Forget everything that is hurting you, my darling, and I will show you what you have always wanted. I will give you the pleasure that my brother cannot give you. I will give you the love we both crave.’

Penelope’s words were soft and seductive and Fiona knew that she did not want to resist as her beautiful cousin guided her hand down between her thighs. With her free hand, Penelope lifted the hem of her short silk chemise and Fiona felt her hand guided between her cousin’s legs.

Penelope closed her eyes and smiled with a soft sigh as she slid Fiona’s fingers into her. Fiona caught her breath as the wet swelling yielded and opened as an invitation for her to probe her sensuality. Penelope shuddered as she felt her cousin’s fingers willingly enter her.

‘Let everything out of your mind,’ she whispered in a husky voice as she gently led Fiona to the big double bed. ‘Except that you and I are together alone in this room. Let your heart rule your head. And let that passion that I know you have had for me take you to my bed. What is between us can only be between women. The softness and sensitivity of true love that does not desire to dominate. Share the ecstasy of body and soul as one.’

Fiona was both frightened and fascinated at what was happening between them. Penelope was seducing her! And yet it felt so natural between them, she thought as her face and throat flushed hot and she felt her own desire rising as an irresistible force.

‘Don’t resist what you truly feel,’ Penelope whispered hoarsely in her ear as she drew her down onto the bed and with practised hands began to strip away the clothes that separated their mutual desire. They knelt naked on the bed facing each other. ‘I will show you things you never imagined could cause the exquisite pleasures of the body,’ Penelope said as she leant forward to suckle one of her cousin’s desire-swollen nipples and Fiona did not resist.

Daniel Duffy had stared at the letter many times. Was it a trick? The letter was real enough and the ornate letterhead confirmed the identity of the sender.

‘No more appointments for today,’ he called to the front office as he took his coat from a wooden peg at the back of his office door. ‘I will be out for a while.’

It was chilly on the street outside his office as the first winds of autumn brought the cold heralding the coming winter. Daniel hailed a hansom cab and directed the driver to take him to the Botanic Gardens. He strolled around the gardens without taking in the collection of carefully selected trees and shrubs. His thoughts were on the meeting with the woman who had sent him the letter. Then he saw her.

She was alone as she had said she would be and she wore a black taffeta dress. She was bending slightly to examine a rosebush and she had the imperious air of one born to authority. She also had the delicate beauty of a woman who had never known physical labour. So this was Lady Enid Macintosh!

Daniel walked slowly towards her and tipped his hat out of habit.

‘Lady Macintosh?’

‘Mister Duffy?’

Enid’s hands were enclosed in a fur muff and she appraised Daniel. So this was the enemy, he thought. But she was not as he would have imagined her. He had expected to see a stern straight-backed woman with a set jaw. Instead, she looked very frail. Daniel was not fooled by appearances, as Lady Enid Macintosh had a fearsome reputation in the world of high finance. It was said that she was the true ruler of the Macintosh companies and not her husband in faraway Queensland.

‘I think we should walk and look at the gardens,’ Enid said and Daniel knew that she had issued a command and not a request. ‘Sadly, they are not at their best this time of year,’ she sighed and continued, ‘I suppose you are very curious as to why I should so urgently want to see you.’

‘That I am, Lady Macintosh,’ Daniel replied politely, despite his ingrained hatred for the Macintosh family. ‘Your letter mentioned the matter was of vital concern to both your family and mine.’

‘I think, Mister Duffy,’ she said as they walked slowly, feigning to examine the plants in the gardens, ‘that when you have heard me out you will agree. I believe our meeting will prove to be fruitful for us both or, should I say, for both our families.’

Although he towered over the woman as they strolled, Daniel felt awkward beside her. She had a regal manner about her that both annoyed and impressed him.

‘The damage your family has done mine is a poor start to any joint venture,’ he said belligerently, ‘if that is what you are proposing in some way. I think you must realise yourself that too much blood has been spilled between us.’ Enid nodded her head and he could see that the woman was agreeing with him. How could she dare go any further with whatever she was going to propose or say, he wondered.

‘I know what you are saying,’ she answered calmly. ‘But you must realise that my family has had its suffering. Even very recently with the death of my son, David.’

‘Please accept my sympathies for your son’s death, Lady Macintosh,’ Daniel replied with genuine sympathy. ‘From what I have heard of your son, and to my knowledge, I don’t think I could say my family had any argument with David. Only you, your husband and your son-in-law.’

‘You are frank,’ Enid replied without rancour. ‘And you may have reason to believe what you are saying, Mister Duffy. I doubt anything I say will alter that. But believe me when I say I also damn my son-in-law to burn in hell and you might begin to see that we have enemies in common.’

Daniel tended to believe her when she said she condemned Granville White. Under the regal veneer, she appeared to be a woman who was very tired, almost beaten, and she was prepared to seek help anywhere. ‘I believe what you say, Lady Macintosh,’ he replied sympathetically. ‘I think we should move on to why you wish to see me.’

Enid stopped walking and examined a pink rose before she turned and looked directly into Daniel’s face. ‘I arranged for us to meet to talk about Patrick Duffy,’ she said quietly. ‘I believe that is what Molly called Fiona’s son.’

Daniel was aghast at the woman’s mention of Patrick. How could she suddenly recognise Patrick, when she had done all within her power to dispose of him – even have him murdered! It was as if she were discussing a bank account and not the boy she had sent away five years earlier.

‘You mean Michael’s son, don’t you?’ he growled, but Enid disregarded his hostile retort.

‘Michael is dead,’ she replied calmly. ‘That is the only reason I referred to Patrick as Fiona’s son.’

‘Michael would still be here and alive,’ Daniel reminded her, ‘if your son-in-law had not set out to have him murdered by Jack Horton who I believe works for your company.’

Enid nodded. ‘I know the facts, Mister Duffy,’ she replied. ‘But you as a practitioner of the law must be aware that knowing and proving are two totally different matters. In all the circumstances, nothing will bring Michael back. Oh, if I could go back in time, I would change everything. So many mistakes have occurred in the years past. I know I have caused my daughter to hate me. And in some way I have been instrumental in the death of my youngest son. You must believe that I would change things if I could, Mister Duffy.’

Daniel did not know whether to believe her or not. But as a lawyer, he did understand facts. And the facts were as they stood. They were the matters of the present.

‘So how does this meeting concern Patrick?’ he asked and she looked him directly in the face. She did not want him to be in any doubt as to what she was about to propose.

‘I want Patrick to inherit the Macintosh companies when he is twenty-one.’

A bomb could have exploded between them and it would have had less effect on Daniel than the woman’s statement. He felt his head spin.

‘Inherit the Macintosh wealth . . .!’ he echoed. The bastard son of an Irish Catholic becoming part of the powerful and respectable Protestant empire of the Macintoshes. There was insanity in the woman.

‘I am not surprised at your reaction, Mister Duffy,’ Enid said, noting the utter shock in his expression. ‘But I have very good reasons for Patrick to inherit the estates when Sir Donald and I have passed on. You see, he has Macintosh blood in him,’ she uttered as simply as she could.

‘And your daughter is not a Macintosh?’ he asked, still reeling from Enid’s simple but explosive statement.

‘She has disowned her heritage,’ Enid said bitterly. ‘And, as you are probably aware, there are no male heirs left alive – except Patrick. I doubt that my daughter will have any more children if she can help it. If the estate does not go to Patrick, then it will go to the man who, I believe in my heart, was responsible for the death of David. As I said, we have mutual enemies,’ she replied with a frank and revealing explanation of the situation.

‘You have proof that Granville White was responsible for the death of your son, Lady Macintosh?’ Daniel asked and he felt a strange and fleeting empathy with the woman who was his sworn enemy.

‘No. But do not underestimate a mother’s intuition about such things,’ she replied. ‘I just know that Granville let my son die a horrible and lonely death.’

Daniel understood. Women’s intuition was a strong trait in his own mother and particularly in his cousin Kate.

‘You must realise, Lady Macintosh,’ Daniel said in a flat voice, ‘that Patrick has been baptised a Catholic and will die a Catholic and I doubt if this will be acceptable to your beliefs.’

Enid looked away, as the horrific thought of a Papist inheriting the Macintosh name was beyond even her. It was an abomination in the eyes of God!

‘Do you believe that your Romanism is strong enough to stand up to the teachings of my faith, Mister Duffy?’ she asked when she finally looked back. ‘Or do you think your religion could flounder when compared to mine?’

‘Once a Catholic, always a Catholic, Lady Macintosh,’ Daniel answered with quiet assuredness.

‘I would ask that you give me the chance to teach Patrick my faith,’ Enid said. ‘And in time he could make up his own mind as to what path he should follow.’

‘In what time are you talking?’ Daniel asked.

‘When Patrick has turned eleven years and one day,’ she replied. ‘Then you would release him to me and he will be given the opportunity for the best education the Macintosh wealth can buy. A chance to attend Oxford when he is ready and, when he is twenty-one, then let him choose between my faith and yours.’

‘What if he should choose to remain a member of the True Church?’ Daniel asked belligerently. ‘Would he still inherit the Macintosh estate?’

Enid sighed. She had faith in the fact that Patrick would see the light and come over to her religion. It was worth the risk.

‘Should he choose to remain a Roman Catholic, then I will accept his choice,’ she answered.

‘And his name? Would he be a Duffy or a Macintosh?’

‘On this issue there is no debate. Patrick may keep his Irish name but his children must assume the Macintosh name as theirs,’ she replied firmly. No, on this point there was no negotiation.

Daniel thought about the issue of name and conceded pragmatically that it was no great matter. What Lady Enid was offering were opportunities far beyond those he and Colleen could offer Patrick in the years to come.

As if sensing Daniel’s thoughts, Enid said, ‘At least with my offer, Patrick would know who he truly is and would never have to wonder at his place in this world. Surely you must see that, Mister Duffy?’

‘That is why I am considering what you are proposing.’

But it was not the only reason he knew he would accept the woman’s offer. Here was a chance to take revenge on the family that had caused his so much grief. Patrick would always remain a Catholic, he was sure of that. And Patrick would control the estate over Granville White. Oh, it was so fitting. That a Duffy, the son of Michael and grandson of the first Patrick, should some day stand above the descendants of the Macintoshes.

‘Patrick will be under your care,’ Enid said. ‘Until the day he turns eleven years and one day. We will draw up suitable documents concerning the matters we have discussed.’

Daniel pondered on all that she had said and finally replied, ‘I think you should understand that Patrick’s future welfare is of the greatest concern to myself and my family.’

‘I understand your caution,’ Enid said sympathetically. ‘And I will arrange to have matters drawn up to protect us both, be assured of that. As it is, we need certain proof of Patrick’s birth, and I have means of arranging that also, as it will be vital when the time comes.’ Enid did not explain when this was, but already she was looking down the corridors of time. In September 1874, Patrick would turn eleven years of age.

As the matter between them required no further discussion, it would be passed into the hands of solicitors. Daniel walked with Enid towards the main entrance to the gardens.