Ghost Gum Valley by Johanna Nicholls Read Free Book Online

figure was his mother’s ghost. Then he realised it was no wraith. It was Elise. Who else had that arsenic-white flesh, that flowing mane of auburn hair? When she covered her mouth Marmaduke realised she had also recognised him.
    So my father’s whore is still in residence. Usurping Mother’s role, sleeping in her bed. No doubt wearing Mother’s jewellery.
    The front door was opened by a sassy young servant with wild curly hair and an Irish accent. Her bold glance clearly placed her as being assigned. No English servant would have dared look him over from head to foot.
    â€˜I am Bridget. To be sure ye are being the Prodigal Son.’
    Marmaduke brushed past her. ‘No need to announce me to your master.’
    Outside Garnet’s library, he squared his shoulders and muttered, ‘Here goes, Mother.’
    Garnet Gamble was seated at his desk. His mane of white hair, unblinking stare and bared teeth gave him an uncanny resemblance to the lion’s head trophy mounted on the wall.
    Marmaduke stood poised in the doorway and gave his father a deep, theatrical bow.
    Garnet’s voice was as strong and scathing as ever. ‘Ah-ha! The Prodigal Son returns at long last, his tail between his legs.’
    That was enough. Marmaduke’s cool resolve instantly vanished.
    â€˜The rotten apple never falls far from the tree, Garnet.’

Chapter 4
    For the first time in more than four years Marmaduke was face to face with his father. A swift glance around Garnet Gamble’s domain reminded him how curious it was for an illiterate man to surround himself with books in three languages.
    The firearms and duelling pistols in the glass cabinet were placed side by side with an Aboriginal bark shield, a lethal-looking woomera and a hunting boomerang that had belonged to the tribal elders he remembered as a child. Marmaduke felt the bitter irony.
    Symbols of the unequal struggle between us and the tribes we dispossessed.
    But the two trophies most prized by Garnet hung framed on the wall. The certificate of conditional pardon signed by Governor Macquarie in 1810 was the proof of his freedom. The document that proclaimed his initiation as a Freemason into the Australian Social Lodge No 260 on 3 March 1823 was the proof of his social acceptance.
    Marmaduke flung himself into the winged leather chair facing Garnet’s mahogany desk. To Marmaduke this chair was a witness box for the accused. From the time his legs were too short to reach the ground, he had endured paternal tirades of abuse about his behaviour.
    Today he felt a sense of grim satisfaction. Against all odds his father had failed to break him. Today the tables would be turned. He promised himself that no matter how much his father raged, he would control his temper and refuse to be sidetracked.
    At first glance Garnet appeared to be undiminished by time. The aura of power and his sheer vitality were written in every line of his face and body. The arched bridge of his eyebrows was still black in contrast to the premature white of his hair.
    Marmaduke was reminded that although they were violently opposed in temperament, they were separated by only twenty years.
    The old bastard’s forty-five but he’s aged visibly since we last crossed swords.
    Garnet’s voice had lost none of its vitriol. ‘Damned well took yourtime in coming. No doubt Edwin Bentleigh informed you that you remain my sole heir?’
    Marmaduke toyed with his Indian ruby ring, a ploy to mask his odd sense of relief.
    So the mistress has not succeeded in breeding. Garnet’s not fool enough to wed her until she’s great with child.
    â€˜Marry again by all means, Garnet, breed a parcel of sons. I have no desire to inherit a penny from your estate. I’ve only returned to claim what belongs to me. Edwin tells me the Will is legally invalid but I promised Mother on her deathbed I’d never sell Mingaletta or let the banks claim it. Perhaps you