South of Capricorn Page 11

  ‘Yes, Kane, there is something you can do for me.’ She hoped she sounded brisk and unemotional. ‘I’ve been thinking; it isn’t the thing for this door to be unlocked. So I’m asking you to let me have the key. I see that the lock is quite old — you don’t find brass ones nowadays - so if the key is lost perhaps you’ll have a new lock fitted?’

  The grey eyes flickered over her, a veiled expression in their depths. Was he amused again? she wondered.

  ‘What has caused you to think of this?’ he queried. ‘You’ve been here over three weeks and you’ve never bothered about it before.’

  She swallowed hard.

  ‘It’s just that it occurred to me today that it isn’t quite right—’

  ‘Today?’ with a hint of satire. ‘Or ... could it have been last night?’

  Gail coloured vividly. So he knew! She stepped back instinctively, desiring only to escape from this man’s all-seeing eyes.

  ‘The lock,’ she stammered, ‘I w-want it - and at once!’

  Kane had been brushing his hair when she opened the door and he now tapped the back of the brush on his hand in a thoughtful gesture.

  ‘I’m afraid a locked door is impossible,’ was his cool rejoinder. ‘We are married, remember?’

  ‘Supposed to be married!’

  ‘That’s what I meant. And so we can scarcely have a locked door between us, especially as we’ve just become reconciled after a long and distant separation,’

  ‘I want it locked!’

  ‘I’ve said it’s impossible.’

  ‘I insist! No one will know—’

  ‘The lubras will know!’

  ‘Do they matter?’

  ‘Not particularly. But my stepmother is bound to find out, and then—’ He spread a hand expressively. ‘I’ve warned you, Gail, that we have to be careful.’

  ‘I can’t see that Mrs. Farrell can find out!’ Gail glared at him defiantly. ‘I intend having this door locked, so you can have it seen to tomorrow!’

  Only then did Kane’s manner change. Gone was the humour, the hint of understanding that had underlain his words up till now. His eyes took on a steely look; his whole attitude was one of arrogance and implacability.

  ‘The door will not be locked,’ he told her. ‘And now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish what I was doing.’ Icy the tone and dark his expression. She stood there, defiant still and yet hesitant about continuing the argument. But if she allowed him to have the last say then she would live in perpetual fear.

  ‘I must have it locked -I must!’

  ‘Gail,’ he said, very softly, ‘I’ve told you several times that it remains unlocked - No, don’t interrupt me! My word is law in this house and you, like everyone else, will respect it. Do I now make myself clear?’

  ‘What you’re telling me is that you, as supreme master of this establishment - of this vast estate - have the right to give me orders — and that I must obey them!’ Possessed now of a burning vapour of fury, she did make some endeavour to guard her tongue a little, but she failed and, speaking without sufficient consideration, she looked at him directly and said,

  ‘You seem to have forgotten what you did to Sandra! If you think I’m intending to run any risks then you’re mistaken!’

  ‘Sandra!’ The one word was snapped out; his eyes looked smoulderingly into hers. ‘How dare you mention her! And as for risks—’ Disdainfully his glance swept her figure. ‘My girl, you have no appeal whatsoever for me!’ Veins stood out on his temples but, unlike Gail, he was able to control his wrath and his voice was quiet as he repeated, ‘No, appeal whatsoever.’

  ‘I’m relieved to hear it,’ returned Gail in a choked voice. It was a tame response, but she could think of nothing else to say; she was unable to think clearly, consumed as she was by anger. She would not have her way, though. That fact did stand out clearly in her mind. She retreated, backing into her bedroom and closing the door. And suddenly she was in tears, all anger dissolved in self-pity. She wanted nothing more than to go home, away from this unfriendly house with its hostile women, its fractious child, and its arrogant, overbearing master.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  SHE awoke before the first hint of dawn had touched the mountains. Drowsily she turned on to her back, yawning luxuriously. How still ... how silent ... It was like another world, this tough and fearsome land to which she had come, bringing the child to her father. What quirk of fate had caused her to stay? Would she still have come had she had any inkling of what was in store for her? Impossible to answer so difficult a question, and yet, as into her thought-stream there intruded that moment when her promise to Sandra had been made, Gail rather suspected that she would have been most reluctant to go back on that promise. ‘Fate is fate,’ her grandmother used to say when Gail as a young teenager visited her every Saturday afternoon, ‘and it’s no use trying to steer yourself out of its way. It’s all-powerful because what it brings was ordained, long before you were born, before your pretty eyes opened to the light of day. Never do battle against it, my dear. It’ll be both futile and frustrating.’

  Good advice, because fate was all-powerful, but sometimes one felt that, if only one had acted differently, then fate could have been thwarted. Gail sat up in bed and put on the light. Four-thirty! But she knew what was wrong; it was that scene last night that, having been on her mind, caused her to wake before her time. With an automatic movement she turned again, to face the door. And she frowned heavily. She would never feel safe while it remained unlocked. Why, Kane could enter her room at any time of the day or night, should he choose to do so! It was a strange circumstance that she had never felt unsafe until the night before last. She had known the door was unlocked, but somehow the fact had not registered firmly enough for it to worry her. Recalling her own emotional condition, brought on by the man’s devastating good looks and arresting personality, she was left in no doubt as to the origin of her fears. Nevertheless, she shirked an admission that it was herself she feared rather than Kane Farrell. She reminded herself over and over again of what had befallen poor Sandra ... and as she had said to Kane last night, she had no intention of suffering a similar fate.

  Colour rose swiftly as she went over that particular part of the scene enacted in her bedroom last evening. So scornfully he had raked her with those hard grey eyes, assuring her in no uncertain terms that she held no attraction for him at all. Well, she had no wish to hold any attraction for him! He was the very last man she could fall for and in consequence she had no wish that he should become interested in her as a woman.

  The dawn broke at last and Gail rose, going to the window and pulling aside the curtains. It was almost five o’clock and the sun was coming up, spraying the mountainsides with gold. It was a breathtaking sight and one Gail had seen on a couple of occasions before. In no time at all the sun was white and blinding, but a blue-white mist still clung to the mountain summits and drifted about in the hollows lower down. The mob of cattle grazed on the slopes, their shapes dark against green hillsides. Away in another direction the aspect was one of endless miles of spinifex country, with the dry creek bed winding about, its banks dotted with unwieldy gum trees which seemed always to be shedding their barks. Closer to, the yellow balls of candyfloss - flowers of the wattle trees - were transformed to gold as the sun’s rays caught them.

  She glanced down; the sun had filtered the ornamental trees in the garden, creating a mosaic of light and shade which spread across the lawn to the wide verandah directly beneath her window. She stiffened slightly as a figure emerged - Kane, dressed in tight- fitting jeans and a slouch hat. He stood there, by the rail, staring out over his domain. She wished she could see his expression, and then the next moment she was asking herself why she should be interested. Was he looking with pride at all he saw? She took it for granted that his customary arrogance would be there in his eyes, and in the set of his mouth. An estate as large as a county.... It was almost unbelievable! There must be numerous parts that he had never even
seen, and it was there that the nomadic stockmen roamed, over the wild places, content with the freedom that was theirs. Her eyes wandering from the man below, Gail saw movement going on among the bungalows on the hill. Everyone rose early, and soon the homestead kitchen would be rowdy with big men who had come in to eat big meals of porridge, eggs and chunks of fresh beef.

  Kane moved and her eyes rested on his figure again, something quite indefinable stirring her senses as the moments passed. She watched his lithe and slender figure as he went towards the home paddock where his horse was being rubbed down by one of the rous- eabouts. A moment later, and with the ease of an acrobat, he swung on to its back and rode away towards the hills. Magnificent, both man and beast! She envied Kane, in a way, for he was so skilled and proud and so confident. But then he was rather like a king here, ruling over this stupendous estate. It would have been strange indeed had he not been proud and confident.

  She was about to turn into the room when the jackos began to send forth their infectious morning laughter. Gail stood watching them, perched on the end of a branch, chuckling joyfully. They would stop now and then, their heads cocked as they looked down, alert for the appearance of an unwary lizard or mouse that might make a tasty meal. These birds ate worms and grubs only when they could not get anything else, Dave had told her. A couple of magpies appeared and one of the jackos swooped to give one an unfriendly jab, then he flew back to his perch, laughing triumphantly.

  At last Gail turned away and after washing and dressing she went down to the breakfast-room expecting to find Leta already there, probably tormenting one of the lubras.

  ‘Where’s Leta?’ she asked Daisybell, equally surprised by Daisybell’s presence as by Leta’s absence.

  ‘She’s unwell, and Miranda’s looking after her, that’s why I’m here, seeing to the table.’ She looked harassed, and Gail told her to go back to the kitchen and attend to the men’s requirements.

  ‘I’ll go up to Leta,’ she ended and, with a grateful nod, Daisybell left the room.

  Leta was sitting up in bed drinking tea. But as Gail entered she turned on an expression of pain.

  ‘My stomach!’ she groaned before Gail could speak, ‘Oh, I’m in agony!’

  Gail looked at Miranda and her mouth tightened. The lubra was under no illusions either, but Leta with her forcefulness had demanded attention with such arrogance and authority that the poor woman had offered little or no resistance.

  ‘You can go back to your work,’ Gail told her quietly. ‘I’ll attend to my daughter.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs. Farrell – I was very busy when the little miss called me—’

  ‘I understand,’ broke in Gail. ‘There’s no need to explain.’

  When the door had closed Gail gave her full attention to the child.

  ‘I’m ill!’ declared Leta belligerently on noting Gail’s expression. ‘I can’t go to school with these pains in my stomach!’

  ‘I don’t believe you’ve any pains at all!’ With a determined gesture she took the cup and saucer from Leta’s hand. And then she flung back the bedclothes. ‘Come on, up you get!’

  ‘I won’t—’ Leta began to scream so loudly that it was impossible for her not to be heard in the next bedroom, which happened to be that of Mrs. Farrell. Within seconds she was in Leta’s room, a dressing-gown flung over her nightdress.

  ‘What on earth’s all the noise about?’ she demanded furiously. ‘I was asleep—’

  ‘At this time?’ interrupted Leta rudely. ‘You should be having your breakfast now — you always do have it early!’

  ‘Oh ...!’ quivered the woman, turning to glower at Gail. ‘Are you going to stand there and allow her to speak to me like this?’

  Gail was losing colour rapidly. Nothing would have afforded her more satisfaction than to smack Leta, hard. But she knew she dared not, because of what her father would say. He wanted his stepmother to be treated in this way; it was all part of the plan.

  Gail sighed; she was fast beginning to tire of the whole business; she was also troubled about Leta, and the effect on her of having not an atom of discipline from anyone in the house.

  ‘Kane will talk to her,’ answered Gail at last, and was not surprised when Mrs. Farrell told her not to be ridiculous, that Kane would actually approve of Leta’s conduct.

  ‘I shall take the law into my own hands,’ she threatened. ‘I shall thrash the creature! I’ll put a stop to this scheme of my stepson’s!’

  ‘If you touch me,’ warned Leta in a loud voice, and having forgotten all about her pains, ‘I’ll bite you and kick you! And my daddy will hit you as well!’

  ‘Be quiet!’ commanded Gail. ‘And do as I tell you! Get up at once; you’re going to be late for school.’

  ‘I’m not going to school—’ Leta began groaning again. ‘I’m dying! I want the Flying Doctor!’

  ‘Ah ...’ Gail’s eyes widened perceptively. ‘Dave told you about the Flying Doctor. I heard him. And so you want us to bring him out here, do you?’

  ‘She’d do that?’ gasped Mrs. Farrell. ‘She’d bring the doctor out, just for a stupid little pain?’

  ‘Little pain!’ cried Leta, rising now as if preparing to carry out her threat of a few minutes ago. ‘It’s a big pain! I’m dying, I said!’

  ‘What’s all this?’ From the open doorway Kane’s languid voice was heard and all three heads turned in his direction. ‘Leta, did I hear you say you were ill?’

  ‘Oh ... Daddy, I’m dying with pain!’ Leta went towards him with slow, agonizing footsteps. ‘Send for the doctor - please! Mummy isn’t listening to me!’

  Her full attention on his face, Gail gave him a challenging look. Impassively he received this, saying slowly to his stepmother,

  ‘You can go, Rachel. There’s no necessity for any interference from you.’

  ‘She said she’d beat me,’ cried Leta, managing to produce actual tears. ‘Don’t let her, Daddy—’

  ‘Rachel, I told you to leave us!’ Undoubtedly he was angry now, and there was a granite-like quality about his expression, ‘I can’t see what you’re doing in here anyway.’

  ‘She was screaming fit to waken the dead! I’d stayed in bed, resting because I had a headache, and was disturbed by this deafening scream—’

  ‘All light - all right,’ with impatience but also control. ‘Go back, then, and take your rest.’

  After she had flounced from the room Gail turned on Kane and regardless of his narrowed eyes and darkling expression she told him firmly that she was not willing for this present state of affairs to continue.

  ‘There’s nothing at all wrong with Leta,’ she added wrathfully, ‘and if you pander to her on this occasion I shall not support you!’

  An awful silence followed; Kane was already having difficulty with his temper and Gail’s defiant announcement served only to produce white drifts of fury at the comers of his mouth.

  ‘Firstly, I haven’t given any indication that I’m intending to pander to her! Secondly - secondly, Gail,’ he said in harsh implacable tones, ‘you’ll please remember who I am!’ Three swift strides having brought him close, he towered above her, menacing in his attitude, his sun-bitten face tight with anger.

  ‘What about my pains?’ began Leta when, slowly swinging his long body round, Kane looked down at her, his eyes narrowed and glinting.

  ‘Get dressed,’ he ordered, ‘and be sharp about it. You’re going to school — and without your breakfast!’

  Leta stared unbelievingly at him, her face slowly taking on a purple hue as her uncontrollable temper rose to take possession of her.

  ‘I’ve got pains—!’

  ‘Get dressed!’ thundered Kane and, as on a previous occasion, he lifted her bodily and dumped her in the bathroom. His hand on her shoulder kept her from turning to ran out again, but in her fury she did no more than dig her teeth into his finger. But it was a mistake; Kane took her over his knee and the screams she had uttered before were nothing to those that issue
d from her lips now. ‘Gail, wash her hands and face,’ he ordered curtly, putting the child back on her feet, ‘and then help her to get dressed.’

  ‘I won’t ...’ But Leta’s voice weakened under the threatening stare of her father and without more ado - but crying loudly still - she allowed herself to be made ready for school. ‘I’m hungry—’

  ‘Off you go! If you run you’ll be early. If you’re late you get another spanking when you come home!’

  ‘It’s about time you did that,’ Gail could not help saying as, standing by the window she watched Leta racing across the lawn towards the path along which she had to go in order to reach the school. ‘It’s utter nonsense to allow her to continue as she has been doing. She’ll have everyone’s nerves on edge if she isn’t controlled.’

  His smouldering gaze was transferred to her.

  ‘I’ve already warned you twice about the manner in which you speak to me. If you continue to ignore those warnings it’ll be the worse for you.’ He looked arrogantly at her, noting her flushed face and the defiant light in her eyes. ‘If my plan doesn’t show some sign of working within the next week or two, then we’ll talk about your going back to England, and taking that child with you—!’ He stopped, but Gail with her quick intelli-gence saw at once that he had cut the words because he considered he had made a mistake.

  ‘That child?’ she repeated slowly. ‘Isn’t that an odd sort of way to talk about your daughter?’

  ‘Does it never occur to you that, not having seen Leta before, I have difficulty in becoming accustomed to the fact that she’s my own child?’ He had calmed down somewhat and he had also turned his head, as if he would conceal his expression from her.