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indicated a doorway to the basement where Daniel would find an overall behind the door, and a boxroom with a bed and washbasin. The owner explained that it was to his advantage to have a lad living on the premises to guard the paintings.
    â€˜Vicars don’t hand out praise to recommend a potential thief for employment!’
    Within half an hour Daniel was wielding a broom and stacking boxes with such fervour that he fancied he caught his employer tugging at his moustache to conceal a smile.
    After his new employer left at the end of the day Daniel sprinted down to his quarters. His first act was to pin to the wall the image of his young mother, serene in death.
    He softened as he touched her face. ‘Just watch me, Mother. I’m on my way!’
    A sudden thought jolted him. Why hadn’t he chosen the Virgin Mary as one of the three paintings he would go without food to own? The answer came to him with a force that both thrilled and frightened him with its intensity.
    I will paint the Virgin myself and prove I can surpass my father’s gifts as an artist!

CHAPTER 4
    Jake Andersen spent the first weeks after Jenny’s desertion checking every settlement within a wide circle radiating out from Penrith, Parramatta and the villages along the coach route to Sydney Town. At Mrs Troy’s cottage in Parramatta he found the empty house stripped of furniture, a ‘For Lease’ sign nailed to the door. Her neighbours told him that Mrs Troy had departed without warning, alone in a carriage. Her whereabouts were unknown. Jake felt choked with bitterness when he guessed the answer. No doubt Jenny’s god-damned protector is now paying the old biddy’s rent just like I did. Bloody fool that I was.
    Nothing made sense. Why had Jenny left him without a hint that she was unhappy? He could feel nothing except the driving force to get his hands around that cowardly mongrel’s throat. Reclaim what belonged to him. His little princess. But what of Jenny? What would he feel when he saw her again? There was no answer to that. By day he was drained of any emotion except blind rage. By night Jenny invaded his dreams. These visions of her brought pain so acute it shattered his sleep and left him exhausted.
    Inwardly he was humiliated by his cuckold status. But pride forbade him to reveal his torment to anyone and he avoided facing his own Andersen clan. He was determined to put up a front, show the world he didn’t give a damn – except that he wanted his kid back. He tried not to drink his remaining money but being unable to interrupt his search to take on work, his funds were running dry. He badly needed to win the prize fight to finance his search.
    Now as he rode through the bush towards Tagalong, weighing his chances of beating Bulldog Kane, he remembered the first time he had set eyes on Jenny. That unforgettable day he had been pummelling SlyPeters in a bare-knuckle bout in front of Parramatta’s Woolpack Inn.
    Jake delivered a left hook to the chin that rocked his opponent to his knees and drew cheers from the crowd of drunken men and their raucous, bedraggled women .
    Jake’s world shifted on its axis the moment he saw her. The gorgeous young blonde seated in a stationary open carriage. She clapped her hands like a child, beside her a middle-aged woman in black had disapproval stamped all over her face.
    The girl’s beauty took Jake’s breath away. The face of an angel. Skin so white it must never have seen the sun. A pocket Venus clothed in a filmy summer dress the colour of a peach. She was so excited by the fight – by him – that she discarded her parasol. Sunlight turned her yellow hair to gold.
    The sight of her spurred Jake on to finish the fight, giving no quarter when Sly Peters’s face streamed with blood. After Jake collected his winner’s purse, he returned to find the mysterious girl and her carriage had disappeared. He spruced himself up and walked