The girls stood by the bannister. Clara, hollow-eyed and blank. Anne’s lips trembling, as if she were fighting back tears.
‘Take the children upstairs, Mrs Blair.’
‘No, please, Eddie. Let me spend some time with them.’
He shook his head. ‘Mrs Blair?’
The governess started to shepherd the girls upstairs.
Belle forced a smile and waved. ‘Goodbye, my darlings. Mama loves you.’ Her voice cracked with emotion. ‘Be good and I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Edward crossed his arms and stepped in front of Belle, blocking her view of the staircase. ‘Don’t tell them that. It’s not happening.’
Today was the first time he’d spoken to his wife since the disastrous picnic. Becky had called by later that same afternoon to say that Belle was staying at Coomalong, the Campbell’s old home next door to the school. When he’d gone round there, she wouldn’t talk to him. However, she did have the nerve to send him a letter demanding he send her the girls. She should never have thought leaving him would be so simple.
The two faced each other across the empty entrance hall. In the space of ten days his wife looked smaller, thinner, older, with her lovely hair pulled back tightly and secured in a low bun. A few stray strands escaped and clung to her face, which was red and puffy from crying. Even her spine seemed bowed. He almost felt sorry for her, for the desperation in her eyes.
Then he thought of how she’d humiliated him publicly at the very time he wanted to avoid a scandal. It was no secret that Belle had left him. Edward’s friendship with the Colonel had raised his profile, but it could not protect him from gossip. Perhaps it made things worse. Separation was unheard of among Hobart’s polite society. Now, all knew Edward Abbott as the man who could not hold on to his wife.
‘Look at you. You’re a wreck, Belle. It’s clear you can’t look after yourself.’ He managed a faint smile. ‘Come home, and we’ll try to put this behind us.’
‘Apologise for your deceit, Eddie. Return Binburra to my rightful hands, and I might consider it.’ The silence yawned between them. ‘Where’s Robbie?’
‘Upstairs.’
‘I want to see him.’ A tremor in her voice belied the calm request.
‘Robert doesn’t want to see you. Can you blame him, after you abandoned him and his sisters?’
She drew herself up to her full height and, in an instant, all her fire and beauty returned. ‘I did not abandon my children.’ She fixed him with burning, reproachful eyes. ‘I abandoned you.’
Edward breached the space between them in a bound, and pulled her roughly to him. She twisted in his arms, arching her body to get free. He gripped her tighter, not caring if he hurt her, and pressed a savage kiss on her lips. Her mouth remained unyielding, her open eyes as hard as flint.
‘Arrgh.’ He shoved her away. ‘Go then. Go if you must, but don’t expect to see your children again.’
For a moment her eyes softened and he saw what looked like pity there. ‘You don’t mean that, Eddie. I shall call again tomorrow.’ Belle turned and left the house with a dignity he couldn’t help but admire.
The unfamiliar sting of tears pricked his eyes, and he wanted to chase after her. Explain how he’d travelled to Hills End to redress the wrong he’d done, and tried to buy Binburra back. That was despite the Colonel having paid twice what it was worth.
Lucas had been unmoved by his pleas. ‘This place is perfect for me, Ed. Your wife is, of course, most welcome to visit.’
Damn that man. Edward went to the library and sank into a chair. He should never have sold Binburra to begin with. Although, perversely, that neglected estate was the one property for which he’d received a good price. All round, he’d had the most terrible luck raising money at short notice for the new diamond mine.
He’d put several prime landholdings on the market, but buyer after buyer had defaulted on the brink of purchase. With time of the essence, he’d been forced to accept offers well below market value.
Recent wool sales hadn’t been what he’d hoped for either. A newly formed collective of graziers was undercutting him, losing him buyers altogether or forcing him to take a loss. How they could afford to sell at such prices was beyond him. Bales produced by his low-paid farmers couldn’t match those of the Midland Woolgrowers Cooperative, in either weight or quality. Belle had often urged him to improve pay and conditions on his farms. It seemed she’d been right.
And then there was the trouble at Hills End Mine. The new shafts were weeks behind schedule, with so many holdups and accidents, he almost suspected sabotage. On top of that, he had labour problems. Some of his best engineers had been poached by a South African consortium. Rabble-rousers were stirring up the workforce, organising unions and causing strife. Their demands for improved safety and higher wages couldn’t have come at a worse time. Strikes and go-slows were slashing production.
If only there weren’t such a tight timeline. He was still thirty thousand pounds short of the amount needed to seal the deal, and the deadline was looming. The pouch of gems from Lucas had passed muster. Tiffany’s agent in Melbourne had pronounced them stones of the highest quality. An independent valuer’s report on the diamond field was due on his desk that morning. If it came up trumps, he’d have no choice but to borrow the additional funds.
Edward took a swig from his silver flask, having replaced its former contents with whisky. He was trying to honour the promise he’d made to Belle at the zoo, countering the clenching pains in his gut with aspirin and some kind of hideous concoction from his doctor. Nothing really helped. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t work. Yet he was determined to fight the addiction. For the sake of his family. For the sake of himself. This whole mess could still turn around. If Belle forgave him, as she always had before. If the diamond deal went through. Well, he’d be sitting pretty.
He stood up, clutching his stomach as a spasm ripped through him. Better have a strong black coffee or two before heading into the office for the assayer’s evaluation. With any luck it would confirm the Colonel’s preliminary report and he’d be drinking champagne by lunchtime.
As his driver dropped him off, Edward caught the glimpse of a familiar figure walking away down Macquarie Street.
‘Fanny?’ He ran after her. ‘Fanny, stop!’
She increased her speed.
Edward reached her, spun her round by the arm. Had he made a mistake? On first sight, this demure, smartly dressed young woman bore little resemblance to the scantily-clad little strumpet who’d once pranced around his rented Lillie Street rooms. Her shining ebony hair was fastened in an elegant chignon. She wore a high lace collar, a stylish pleated blouse and a satin skirt, which flared from hip to ground.
But when they locked eyes he knew. ‘Whatever happened to you?’
She wrenched her arm away. ‘A gentleman, that’s what happened. A proper gentleman, this time.’
‘Where did you go, Fanny?’
‘None of your bloody business, and it’s Francine now.’
‘Where are you off to?’
‘If you must know, I’m going to work.’
He stifled a laugh.
Fanny thumped Edward hard enough to make him wince. A smart dress and pretty sun bonnet hadn’t weakened her right arm. ‘Don’t s’pose you think I can do a respectable job. All she’s good for is opening her legs, is that it?’ Her eyes blazed with resentment. ‘I’m training to be a nurse, like Florence Nightingale. Matron says I’m right clever, she does.’
What had happened to his brazen coquette? Edward was flabbergasted. ‘A gentleman, you say. What gentleman?’
She delivered one last punch, adjusted her hat and turned her back.
As Edward watched her hurry down the street, he was hit by a sharp pang of loss. He could understand a rival stealing Fanny away. She was a rare beauty, after all, but any man who could afford Fanny could surely afford to keep her. Why send her off to be a nurse? That wasn’t where her talents lay.
No matter. Probably best that Fanny was out of the way, though he’d still like to thrash the man who’d robbed him.
Edward continued on to his office. As soon as he’d hung up his coat and hat, George Bentley, his senior mining engineer, tapped him on the shoulder. He held up his valise with a flourish and grinned. ‘The assessment report. It’s a good read.’
Good was an understatement. This was better than he could have dreamed of. Gem-quality diamonds had been found in profusion at the site, along with garnets and zircons. The author was wildly enthusiastic. His report concluded that the proposed one hundred thousand shares of stock were easily worth fifty pounds each.
‘What do you think?’ asked Edward. ‘What’s your advice?’
‘The consulting engineer has staked out the adjoining hundred acres himself,’ said George.
Edward cheered. ‘That says it all, right?’
‘Perhaps, but I do have one concern . . .’ George hesitated, as if he couldn’t find the words.
‘For God’s sake, man, spit it out.’
‘The proposed mine is on land that belonged to a farming family. The husband recently came home from the Boer War, a hero apparently. Awarded the Victoria Cross for retrieving wounded soldiers under fire. He also came back a cripple, unable to work his farm.’ George lowered his voice. ‘It’s rumoured the Colonel paid him a pittance, barely what the land was worth as mongrel sheep country. I fear there’ll be a backlash when the details hit the press.’
‘That’s nothing to do with me.’
‘Perhaps you could talk to Buchanan,’ said George. ‘If the two of you, as co-directors, were to make recompense, it could avoid a public outcry.’ He sat down on the desk and slipped his spectacles further down his nose. ‘I confess I’m uncomfortable about how this man has been dealt with. Aren’t you?’
‘Hell, George, this is business. I’m not about to make waves.’ Edward called in his assistant. ‘Make an appointment with my bank manager. Tell him it’s urgent.’
‘Hold on, Ed. This report is good, maybe too good. We need our own geologists to take a look before we move.’
‘There’s no time. I only have a few days.’
George looked unconvinced, disapproving even. ‘You asked for my advice, Ed.’
‘More fool me.’ He felt his temper rise. ‘Get out, George. Get out of my sight.
Edward slumped back in his chair, weak with anticipation. He was about to make an unimaginable amount of money. If his father could only see him now.