Cry of the Curlew: The Frontier Series 1 by Peter Watt

had been under the pressure of her fingers. She was also acutely aware that his presence seemed to cause an exquisite tingling in her stomach. Or was the exquisite, tingling feeling wickedly lower?
    ‘Fi, are you feeling well?’ A young woman’s voice broke the spell between them.
    ‘Yes, Penelope . . . I . . . I was just frightened by the thunder,’ she answered, without taking her eyes from his face. Michael resented the intrusion of the second woman although she was equally as beautiful and around the same age as the girl with the raven hair.
    Fiona realised self-consciously that she was standing very close to the tall young man and stepped away from him. Side by side the two women were a striking contrast; Penelope had hair the colour of spun gold and a smattering of freckles over her nose. Her large eyes were a deep sapphire blue set against high cheekbones and she exuded a noticeable blatant sensuality. He could see that both young women were dressed in the finest of flowing muslin.
    His appraisal was met with a frank expression from Penelope reflecting an unabashed exposition of sexual attraction. ‘If you would like I can stay with you,’ he said in a lame attempt to engage the company of Fiona for just a while longer. ‘Until the ferry arrives.’ She smiled in a way that he could see that she wanted to accept his invitation.
    ‘Your offer is very courteous but I think I should be with my cousin,’ she replied hesitantly. ‘But thank you for the offer, Mister . . . ?’
    ‘My name is Michael. Michael Duffy, Miss . . . ?’
    ‘. . . Macintosh. Fiona Macintosh. And this is my cousin, Miss Penelope White,’ she answered formally. Penelope smiled and nodded her head slightly as recognition of the introduction then turned her attention to Fiona.
    ‘Fi, we must join Granville. He is waiting for us at the end of the pier.’ She turned to the young Irishman. ‘If you will excuse us, Mister Duffy. I must say, however, that I am grateful for the assistance you rendered my cousin.’ With a parting and polite smile, Penelope took Fiona’s elbow and guided her through the crowd.
    Michael watched them walk side by side down the jetty. They were certainly a striking pair of young ladies, he thought without taking his eyes off Fiona and was rewarded to see her turn once and glance back at him. He flashed her a beaming smile and felt a little foolish. Maybe he was leering more than smiling, he thought. Like the drunken patrons of the Erin at the voluptuous barmaids Frank Duffy tended to employ.
    Daniel had observed the exchange between Michael and Fiona and although it had been fleeting, he was perceptive enough to notice their mutual attraction. Michael had been so enamoured by the beautiful young woman that he had failed to introduce him to the young ladies and Daniel felt a little annoyed at his cousin’s oversight.
    ‘She must be the most beautiful girl in the whole world, Dan,’ Michael said with a boyish tone of awe in his voice.
    ‘Shut your mouth, Mick. Or you will drown when the rain comes,’ his cousin growled lightly. ‘Beautiful she is,’ he mused as he watched the two young women walking together, ‘but I think she is not in our class. From the look of her I would say she is one of those ladies born to wealth. Probably the daughter of some big Sydney merchant or landowner.’
    ‘How do you know that, Danny boy?’ Michael challenged quietly. ‘She might be the child of a publican . . . Or working people like ourselves.’
    Daniel pulled a pained expression at his naive optimism. ‘You only have to look at the way she is dressed, her accent. Her whole appearance says gentry,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘That’s how I know. Best you forget her.’
    But Michael was not convinced that the beautiful young woman was unobtainable. So she might be high born but she was still a woman and he knew she had been attracted as much to him as he was to her. ‘Some day I am going to marry