Ghost Gum Valley (30 page)

It was a wedding like no other. It began with utter silence. No music.

Maeve held Isabel's long train as the bride approached on Thomas's arm, taking small measured steps that suggested she was playing
The Wedding March
in her head.

Marmaduke was surprised to feel his throat constrict.
Jesus. Is this the same girl?

Madame Hortense's apprentices must have worked themselves ragged for days. The ivory satin gown and the veil floating in the breeze transformed Isabel from a tomboy into a delicate creature, half dryad. The gown moulded her tiny waist and enhanced the delicate curve of a bosom Marmaduke had thought non-existent. Her crown of orange blossoms and the veil framing her face gave her an ethereal quality, like a vision out of
A Midsummer Night's Dream.
Her luminous green eyes were the colour of an Irish field. He noted her long delicate hands were trembling as they held the bouquet of white roses.

Marmaduke was suddenly anxious. Had he ordered the wrong roses? He knew the Plantagenets had broken into two warring factions, their emblems the White Rose of York and the Red Rose of Lancaster.

Shit! Which side is Isabel on? Red or white? Oh hell, what does it matter? This whole marriage thing will be over in a year.

When she reached his side Marmaduke whispered without any trace of sarcasm, ‘Thanks for coming, Isabel.'

His bride's resigned expression reminded Marmaduke of a painting of Mary Queen of Scots minutes before she laid her pretty neck on the chopping block.

James Backhouse broke the silence by quoting the words of the first Quaker, George Fox. ‘The right of joining of marriage is the work of the Lord only and not the priests or magistrates, for it is God's ordinance, not man's and therefore Friends cannot consent they should join them together – for we marry none, it is the Lord's work and we are but witnesses.'

He explained how a Quaker meeting would be conducted in a spirit of worship based on silence in which anyone present who was moved to speak could feel free to do so.

The only sound to break the silence was the delicate snoring from the Irish bolter under the tree.

A few minutes later Edwin was moved to speak. ‘I am witness this day to the decision of two very special people who have joined together after difficult journeys in life. May they always find in each other their true friend.'

Marmaduke found himself casting sidelong glances at Isabel now that she had lifted the front layer of the veil to reveal her face and Maeve had taken custody of the bridal bouquet. Marmaduke knew the ropes. James Backhouse had given him a copy of the words to read but Marmaduke had learnt them by heart. He took hold of Isabel's hand and chose to be the first to make the marriage declaration.

‘Friends, in the presence of God and this assembly, I take this my friend, Isabel Alizon de Rolland, to be my life partner, trusting with divine assistance to be loving and faithful as long as we both on earth shall live.'

Those simple, beautiful words had seemed so easy on paper. Words that Isabel deserved to hear from a man who truly loved her.

I'm the last man in the world fit to say them. What would James Backhouse think if he knew that I'll be spending my wedding night in Josepha St John's bed?

It was now Isabel's turn to make the same declaration. Her profile with its little tip-tilted nose looked as delicate as a piece of porcelain. Marmaduke noticed for the first time the way her eyelashes curled as her eyes fixed intently on James Backhouse's face. The soft chin of her heart-shaped face trembled on reaching the words ‘as long as we both on earth shall live'.

Marmaduke felt like yelling out loud.
It's only for a year. I'm not an ogre!

But the next moment when she touched Mendoza's gift of the house-shaped pendant as if to draw comfort from the symbol, he wanted to reassure her.

I won't hurt you, girl. I'm not your so-called beloved cousin.

Suddenly conscious of the intensity of his stare, Isabel turned her eyes to him as if to read his thoughts. His smile died on his lips when she whispered crossly, ‘What's wrong
now
?'

He said through gritted teeth, ‘Smile. We're in love, remember?'

James Backhouse read out the details of the marriage document,
the names of their parents living and dead. Edwin was prompted to hand across the wedding rings.

Marmaduke felt Isabel's hand trembling as he placed the wedding band on her finger.

The romantic illusion was shattered when Isabel placed the man's ring on his finger and said under her breath, ‘I'm surprised you were willing to give up your ruby!'

Marmaduke felt confused. How the hell did she know?

He had forgotten to ask the minister if and when he was supposed to kiss the bride, so he took matters into his own hands by quietly asked Isabel's permission. ‘May I?'

Isabel obediently tilted her face for his kiss but closed her eyes tightly and clenched her mouth in a hard little line. That was the final straw. Enough was enough.

Well, soldier, this is a kiss you're never going to forget.

He executed the movement with a rapid flourish, pulled the veil forwards to screen them from sight and held her face between his hands. With the tip of his tongue he touched her lips and when they parted in surprise, Marmaduke kissed her, a kiss a beloved bride should receive in the privacy of her wedding chamber.

Marmaduke did not break from the kiss until he felt her body melt in his arms.

Then with a casual flourish he replaced the veil and whispered in her ear. ‘There, Mrs Gamble. I will never do that again. Until you beg me.'

From the look in her eyes he thought Isabel intended to strike him but realised she would never do that in the presence of a pacifist Quaker. She gently touched the flower in his buttonhole and smiled sweetly at him for the benefit of those present.

Only Marmaduke heard her words. ‘I'll die first!'

He hooked Isabel's hand through his arm and led her to the cave to sign the wedding certificate. Isabel's bouquet was caught by Maeve. Edwin organised a carriage to deliver James Backhouse to his lodgings. Marmaduke placed his bride inside the flower-decked bridal carriage and closed the door after her.

‘I'll join you in an hour, soldier. First I've got to get my Irish mate on board ship.'

As Isabel was driven away she peered back at him in total disbelief.

Edwin was resigned to the worst. ‘You could be convicted for aiding a bolter escape!'

‘I reckon everyone deserves a second chance. You gave me mine when you got me off a murder charge scott-free. I'm just passing on my good luck to this poor lad.'

Thomas whipped the horses in the direction of Cockle Bay. Marmaduke propped the bolter upright beside him, trying to sort out his feelings about the girl who had turned into a chameleon in front of his eyes. He knew Isabel had only married him for his money. But now that she was bought and paid for, she was his responsibility. He assured himself that tonight he would enjoy committing passionate adultery with Josepha. So why this confusion?

Discreet adultery is fine. Isabel expects it. But I'll be damned if I'll allow my bride to be publicly humiliated. She's copped enough of that from her cousin Silas.

By the time Marmaduke boarded the
Kythera,
the Irish bolter had passed out cold so he lumbered him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes down to the cabin and let his inert body slide to the floor. Captain Michaelis tilted his cap back on his head and gave a cursory glance at the bolter's Bond Street tailcoat, frayed trousers, bare feet and iron shackles.

‘
Yasou
, my friend. I see you've brought me another human cargo for New Zealand.'

‘Yeah, mate. Tote up his fare on my account. I'll have a grog with you next time you're in port. Must fly. Got to be in two places at once tonight – it's my wedding night.'

Chapter 21

The French chef had surpassed Marmaduke's instructions by creating a small but superb wedding banquet fit for a royal princess. Set up in Marmaduke's chambers it was an intimate affair shared with their witnesses, Edwin and Maeve.

Marmaduke had also invited his sometime dinner companion, Rupert Grantham, to join them but his friend had sent an apologetic note by courier to explain his absence. He had another libel suit pending,
that could blow one of the most respected men in the Colony out of the water!

Accompanying his letter was a gift wrapped in Indian silk: a coromandel box inlaid with mother-of-pearl containing a beautiful pair of silver loving cups. The card was inscribed,
To the new Mrs Gamble. May your bridegroom, my friend, bring you to dine at Waratah Waters one Sunday very soon. I look forward to riding with you to show you over my Petersham estate – my oasis.
It was signed
Rupert Grantham, Esquire.

Throughout the banquet Marmaduke was an attentive host. Having dispensed with servants in order to create an informal mood, he paid chivalrous attention to Isabel and Maeve. He tempted them all to try the various exotic dishes and kept both the champagne and the conversation flowing, amusing them with anecdotes about the Colony's most colourful rogues. He took care to present Edwin in an heroic light as the legal champion of the underdog and was rewarded by seeing his mate so uncharacteristically relaxed that he placed his arm around Maeve's shoulders.

Isabel looked pale and fragile. Marmaduke caught her gazing at him from time to time with a look of feigned adoration. In response to his romantic, intimate gesture when he hand-fed her chocolate-coated strawberries she coloured prettily. He hoped he was the only one to notice the flash of anger in those green eyes and the way she almost bit his finger.

To his surprise Isabel seemed to have genuinely warmed to Maeve, who in Irish Republican style acknowledged no social barriers and
treated Isabel like a little sister who needed her advice about the wicked ways of the Colony.

Reminded of his need to depart for the Theatre Royal, Marmaduke tried to avoid looking at the clock but he was inwardly relieved when Maeve suggested to Edwin none too subtly, ‘It's time to leave the bride and groom to entertain themselves.'

Edwin jumped to his feet, full of apologies. They all exchanged warm hugs then Marmaduke escorted them downstairs for Thomas to drive them home to Woolloomooloo.

On his return Marmaduke felt unaccountably awkward alone with Isabel.

‘I've arranged for a housemaid to help you undress. I hope you're not afraid of electrical thunderstorms. There's a real beauty about to burst. We do things on a grand scale down here.'

‘Thank you for your concern. I'm not a child afraid of the dark,' she said firmly but Marmaduke did not believe her.

Isabel added hastily. ‘I prefer to undress myself but that's not a complaint. It is the most beautiful gown I've ever seen. I thank you.'

‘Glad you like it.' He backed towards the door. ‘It's late. I must hurry.'

‘Yes, it's bad manners to be late for the theatre. Don't let me detain you.' She added with quiet dignity, ‘I trust the audience will be kind to Mr Levey's new Portia. She looked so nervous.'

Marmaduke was thrown off guard. ‘How did you know that?'

‘The wedding shoes you chose were lovely but a size too small. When I slipped out to exchange them I couldn't resist having a look at the new theatre from the back of the stalls.' She added politely, ‘Your sweet lady is very beautiful.'

Marmaduke was shocked by her cool acceptance of his adultery. She must have heard everything. Seen him kiss Josepha. Feeling defensive he floundered for the right words.

Isabel cut him short. ‘No need to explain. You are free to do as you please as per our contract. Now if you'll excuse me I must get some sleep. What time do you want us to depart tomorrow for Bloodwood Hall?'

‘You look tired. Sleep late. Later this week will do.'

Isabel nodded. ‘Fine. I forgot to thank you for remembering my family's emblem. The white roses were beautiful. You went to a great deal of trouble to make the day perfect. Just like a real wedding.'

Marmaduke felt wary. Was this polite English sarcasm? ‘You didn't mind missing out on the traditional big social affair in church?'

‘It was the most idyllic place I've ever seen. The Quaker ceremony was so beautiful. Imagine what those words would mean to two people who really did love each other.'

Marmaduke was annoyed to feel a touch of guilt. He wanted to keep the mood light.

‘Did you see those wallabies hop out of the bush and watch the ceremony? It took me weeks to train them to stand to attention.'

Isabel gave a sidelong smile. ‘Is that what you call an Australian tall story?'

Marmaduke assumed a look of mock outrage. ‘Really, Isabel. Would I lie to you?'