The Landowner's Secret Page 6

  It was only when he heard hooves on the drive that Robert groaned aloud, barely resisting the urge to smash something. He had to get to town and telegram his sister before his whole bloody business plan crumbled out from under him.

  ***

  ‘She calls Albert Bertie,’ Elizabeth told him a week later.

  They finally had a moment alone after the initial chaos of Robert’s sister’s return. Elizabeth was now pottering about, settling herself back into the house and dividing and ordering her purchases, some of which would go to the new Salvation Army outpost in town.

  ‘Bertie,’ she repeated as she inspected a blank canvas, shaking her head in bemusement.

  His sister had a talent for painting, such as her opportunities were where they lived. It would be a long time—if ever—before Barracks Flat would be known for the arts, but Elizabeth persisted with her passion, producing works worthy of more than the walls of Endmoor.

  Even with materials and training in short supply where they lived, nature could not have provided better inspiration.

  Robert found himself fighting yet another smile. He was feeling oddly transformed in recent days, despite everything that was going wrong. ‘I know she does. I suspect it drives the fellow mad, but he’s far too amiable to say as much.’

  Elizabeth grinned back at him and held up her hands: what can one do?

  ‘He does not seem offended by it, only mildly … resigned to his fate.’

  It was approval Robert heard in her voice, for more than just the silly name, and he all but sagged in relief. He hadn’t truly thought Elizabeth would insist on the removal of their houseguest, but it was good to be certain all the same.

  Miss Ryan was better. She’d been improved enough she could have returned home days ago, but nobody—not even Alice—was denying there was still danger around them. She’d seemed as unconvinced about the matter of the outlaws being resolved as Robert was. Even so, he’d been mildly surprised she’d accepted his offer to stay on a little longer so readily.

  Elizabeth gestured at a vase that’d appeared in the corner not long after Miss Ryan’s first, and thankfully only, attempt to bolt from his house, filled now with late autumn blooms in a violent shade of crimson, dotted with red berries.

  ‘While I’ve no complaints about my own education, she certainly knows more about the garden than I do.’

  ‘That couldn’t be true. You’re always out and about—’

  ‘I only paint nature, Robert. I wouldn’t be surprised if Alice could tell you all the Latin names for those,’ she pointed at the vase, ‘and no doubt how to grow them to perfection. Lord only knows where she learnt so much. You’d best watch out for that one; she seems to absorb facts without even knowing she’s done it.’

  While Robert considered that and decided it was likely the truth, his sister went back to her unpacking.

  ‘You might think I’ve overspent,’ she said to him over her shoulder, perhaps in reaction to his silence. ‘However I’ve been frugal.’

  A stray curl of hair the colour of his own slipped about her shoulder, drawing his attention to her gown. Dark in colour, he realised it was one he’d seen before, not the newest Sydney fashion.

  ‘I’m not the least surprised. We’re doing well enough, Elizabeth; I’d not have worried if you’d come home with more.’

  For all of a moment a cloud passed over his sister’s face.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Nothing, truly nothing.’ But her hastily bit lower lip told him otherwise.

  Voices from elsewhere in the house had them both turning guiltily to check if they’d been overheard. After several moments’ stillness they resumed their discussion.

  ‘She’ll need things,’ Robert said, turning to practical matters and realising he was floundering. ‘I— uh, I am not sure what those things are. Things women need. Clothes and such.’

  The words earned him a sudden grin.

  ‘Oh, it’s a very good thing I’ve returned, I’d say. Clothes and such,’ Elizabeth muttered, and bit her lip again, this time—he was sure—to hold back a laugh. ‘I take it that means she’s staying on?’

  He hadn’t a clue. ‘For the time being, yes. She has an absconded brother I’m almost certain is involved in the recent crimes around here, and a rundown cottage to get through the winter in on her own. It feels wrong to send her on her way.’

  Elizabeth touched one of the berries in the floral arrangement.

  ‘And how do you think she will react to being kept?’

  ‘Being kept?’

  Christ. Even his sister was making it sound like he’d a mistress. His words must have come out harsher than he intended, however, because he drew her attention back to his face.

  ‘I only meant she strikes me as extremely independent. The present danger, though …’

  ‘I shouldn’t have asked you home at this time,’ he admitted. It’d been done in a panic, in the short space of time between Tom Wright’s visit to deliver barely veiled threats and the moment he’d spoken to Alice Ryan again, the worry in her eyes convincing him the danger was far from over.

  ‘Oh, nonsense. I’m here in one piece, am I not? And I’ve had my fill of the city for the time being.’

  ‘I suspect she is a little scared to go home,’ he said pensively.

  ‘As she ought to be.’

  Robert glanced at the flowers again. ‘Perhaps I’ll employ her as my gardener if she demands a reason to be here.’

  ‘You could do worse.’

  ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Robert told his sister, ‘and see you soon for dinner.’

  ***

  ‘I feel like I shouldn’t be takin’ any steps in it in case I ruin it.’

  Alice felt like a princess all dressed up in someone else’s frock, but she knew better than to say so; Miss Farrer’d implied more than once it wasn’t anything fancy.

  ‘Clothing is made to be worn,’ Robert’s pretty sister pointed out, and tugged at something at the back of the gown, drawing excess fabric out of the way.

  At least the colour was practical, Alice supposed. It was a shade somewhere between moss green and bronze, something dark enough for her to wear without ruining it too fast. It reminded her of the colours of the bush. The fabric shone a bit, and made a swishing noise when she moved—she’d never worn anything special enough to do that before.

  Even though the mirror in the bedroom was far bigger than she was accustomed to, Alice wished it to be longer still so that she could see her reflection top to toes. She felt like the bloody Queen, and wanted to smooth her palms down the silk skirt but dared not.

  Eyeing Mr Farrer’s sister surreptitiously, she tried out the lady’s name in her mind. Elizabeth. Well, there were plenty of Elizabeths around, but Alice wasn’t sure she’d be fine with calling this one by her Christian name just yet. She’d been invited to do so, but she struggled with it.

  Elizabeth held herself in a way that stirred up one of Alice’s few memories of her mother. Sit straight and shoulders back, she’d tell her when she was a girl, but it was never a scold. They’d played princesses together even though it was ridiculous.

  ‘I doubt there’s any damage you could inflict on it that couldn’t be fixed,’ Miss Farrer said with confidence.

  Alice plucked reluctantly at a tiny corner of the fabric and grimaced.

  ‘You’d be surprised what I can do.’

  That earned her a chuckle, but then Miss Farrer immediately sobered while she studied Alice from one end to the other.

  ‘It’s a little long in the skirt, but that can be easily adjusted. The colour is lovely on you, better for you than for me. Yes,’ she nodded and moved to the pile of gowns on the edge of the bed, ‘that one will do. Let’s see what else I can find.’

  ‘But … what for? This frock won’t survive milkin’ the cow, and I’ve a dress good enough for church already. Not that I’m ungrateful, but …’

  She trailed off and dared to touch a deep blue ribbon that
lay atop a pile of others in every colour. She straightened it out, letting the silky coolness send little bumps across her forearms. In amongst the ribbons were a few scraps of lace much finer than Alice had ever had a need of.

  Mister Farrer’s sister brushed by to pick up another frock and give it a good looking at.

  ‘You ought to have more than one thing to wear if you’re to stay.’

  Alice’s head snapped up.

  ‘If I’m to …? I beg your pardon, Miss Farrer, but I’m goin’ home soon. Tomorrow,’ she decided immediately. ‘I should’ve gone back already.’

  Instead of trying on things she had no business wearing, she should be shoving her fear aside and being brave enough to head home.

  ‘Um, you might want to talk to Robert about that. I was given the impression you’d be here a little longer. It was the reason he called me home, I am certain of it.’

  ‘Because I need chaperonin’?’ Alice laughed up at the ceiling rose. The mere idea of it …

  And then she abruptly stopped when she realised she was laughing on her own. Confused, she gently touched the silk of the skirts again. Elizabeth briefly rested a hand on her forearm, drawing her attention again.

  ‘My brother is not happy about you being on your own yet, not considering the crimes that have happened in the region. And we all need clothing, and I’ve more than enough to share. Luckily we are close enough in size.’

  In fact Alice looked weedy and rather short next to Miss Farrer, but she wasn’t mentioning it if the lady wasn’t.

  ‘I can’t just sit here in this house, doin’ nothin’—nothing. It’s more than charity; it’s ridiculous.’

  ‘Well, funny you should mention it. If you’re willing, our garden has been awfully neglected. It wouldn’t be charity to have you work on it during the day, in exchange for a place to sleep at night. At least until we know you’ll be safe in your home,’ she coaxed, perhaps sensing Alice weakening at the thought.

  All the things she could do with the Endmoor land … It wouldn’t be work. It’d be a gift.

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t dare. And I doubt your brother’d agree,’ Alice said, even though she was already taken by the idea. What she might do with the better soil—not rocky and dry like over at the cottage—it was so tempting.

  ‘Yes,’ Miss Farrer replied after a moment’s smiling consideration, ‘I believe he would.’

  She returned her attention to Alice’s dress, speaking in a deliberately casual voice as she did something with the overlong hem.

  ‘Do you have any other family around? Other than your brother? Or perhaps a friend who is like family?’

  ‘I know people.’ Alice knew everyone, really, which was how things went when a girl lived in a small community. Too many of her childhood playmates had married or moved on to other towns for employment, and in the past two years her life had become one of isolated hard work.

  ‘I help Mrs Hobson down at the shop sometimes.’ As Miss Farrer would know, being an occasional customer.

  They both dropped the conversation then because a figure—a tall and dark-haired and well-dressed figure—had stirred from the doorway.

  Robert Farrer took in her improved appearance, and she was not going to imagine it was approval in his eyes, no matter that she wanted it to be. His dark eyes met hers then, and his face relaxed into something that was almost a smile.

  ‘Come for a walk with me,’ he said.

  Silence reverberated around the room, and it took Alice a long few seconds to realise he was asking her, not his sister—or not even her and his sister.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  He offered an elbow in invitation, like they might stroll down the corridor arm in arm.

  ‘A walk. You assure me you’ve recovered, and it’s a beautiful afternoon.’

  She stared uncomprehendingly. ‘Why?’

  He smiled outright. ‘Why not?’

  ‘I can’t walk in this frock yet. It’s too long.’ She lifted the skirts a little to demonstrate, saw his attention drawn to the ankles he’d already once had a bloody good look at up close, and quickly dropped the fabric back into place.

  ‘Then wear your other. Will you come?’

  Painfully aware of the rapt attention of Miss Farrer, and also of her idiotic belly that was doing flips of girlish excitement, she forced herself to stand straight and sound normal.

  ‘All right. But first I need to change.’

  Chapter 6

  They went in a gig most of the way, which hardly classified as a walk, but Robert was uneasy with Miss Ryan—Alice, if you can manage it, as she’d told him more than once—on foot.

  His travelling companion said little on the trip out, which was not the usual way of things with her, but Robert did not try to force conversation.

  The road was a rather rocky, uneven one, still only used by locals out of necessity. They bounced along in the little vehicle, with Alice dutifully snapping her leg back whenever a rut bumped it his way. It was a sunny day, warm, even. His companion resorted to covering her eyes with her hand when her tiny, fashionable borrowed bonnet proved to be too small to do the job. It effectively shielded her from him, too.

  They passed an older couple Robert knew by sight and Alice knew by name heading the other way in a sturdy wagon. After a brief exchange of greetings before both pairs moved on, she became even quieter, if such a thing was possible. Bracing his legs, and wishing for better suspension to go with a better road, Robert fell into thoughts of his own.

  He really ought to not constantly be seen with her alone if stemming rumours was the plan of action, but he kept allowing it to happen all the same. He could also not keep her locked inside the house for ever, and there were things that should be done and discussed without the audience of a chaperone—even one as forgiving as Elizabeth.

  ‘Oh,’ she said when he brought them to a stop, arranged the reins, and hopped down, reaching a hand up to assist her.

  Robert waited until she was on the ground.

  ‘Oh, what?’

  She smiled, tried to cover it, and her smile became bigger as a result.

  ‘I was wonderin’ if we were goin’—going—to walk at all. Or if the gig was how fancy ladies did it.’

  ‘Did what? Walked?’ he asked while he went about the business of offering his arm, and then tucking her hand through it himself when she stared at it like she’d never seen such a gesture before.

  ‘Yes, walked. I thought, with those nice frocks ’n all, maybe ladies couldn’t go for walks. Why are we headin’ to my house?’ she continued before he could inform her about the finer points of walking with a gentleman.

  He’d tell her later about Elizabeth and her preference for long walks across Farrer land, because, yes, they were indeed moving down the dirt track that lead to the Ryan cottage, and an edge of unease settled around them.

  Robert surreptitiously patted at the weapon concealed in his coat, and then guided the girl beside him over a large, dead eucalypt branch that had fallen since either he or Alice had been out that way. Once they were clear, he answered her in low tones.

  ‘My sister walks all over the station on a near daily basis. And as for your question, we are here for two reasons. Firstly, because I thought you might like to see the cottage again. Secondly, because it might give me a chance to convince you to stay on with us.’

  ‘Because I’ll get a look at this place and remember how bad it is?’

  ‘No, goodness. Don’t think that.’

  He looked sideways at her, appalled by the obvious—accidental—implication, only to find her smiling again. It wasn’t forced, either. She truly was teasing him, and she continued in a conversational tone.

  ‘It’s probably true though. Lord, look what happens to this place when I’m gone a few days. Branches everywhere, which probably means there’s a dead tree or two about to topple and fall right through me—my roof. And I reckon the grass has grown ten feet since I last saw it.’

  ‘Wel
l, maybe only eight or nine feet,’ he suggested. It was more like a single foot, thanks to a rare dose of rain the other morning, but the exaggeration seemed to fit the situation. The bush was swiftly taking over the place, leaving a feel of a ghost house up ahead.

  ‘I’ve been wonderin’ if the thieves came back after that night. There’s not much worth thievin’ but some criminal sorts like to make a mess before they move on. Not,’ she added hastily, ‘that I’m an expert on the matter.’

  ‘Thieves, hooligans, pirates. Always making a mess. They ought to be outlawed,’ he said, trying, and succeeding, to make her smile.

  ‘Pirates?’ She scoffed at the suggestion even as her tone hinted she was taken with the notion. ‘Here, inland in Australia?’

  Their boots crunched old leaves and skidded over the occasional knobbly gumnut. The cottage was in plain sight now, looking every bit the abandoned ghost house Robert had thought it to be.

  ‘The pirates might have come by ship up the Murrumbidgee,’ he suggested.

  ‘Must’ve been a skinny boat.’

  ‘Perhaps it was a tiny ship. Or perhaps they changed vessels along the way. At some point the river connects to the sea.’

  Alice gave that a moment’s thought. ‘I reckon they couldn’t’ve come any further than from New Zealand in something so small. Absolutely not from somewhere like Penzance.’

  Penzance? The mention of a place at least ten thousand miles away drew him up short, their connected arms causing her to stop, too. He searched her light eyes with genuine curiosity.

  ‘What do you know of Penzance?’

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Nothin’, I guess. It’s just a name I’ve heard.’

  Their silly trail of conversation was broken as she darted sideways a couple of steps to kick aside some debris that’d either fallen from yet another towering eucalypt or been dislodged by a bored bird, muttering to herself as she did, clearly unhappy with the state of her home. When she joined him on the path again, his thoughts had returned to the serious.

  ‘You know that we’d like you to stay on at Endmoor. I know Elizabeth would appreciate the company. And, even if you were determined to be back here at your family home, I think we can both agree it needs clearing up,’ and more security, ‘before you could do that.’