This took a while to complete as I have hit a busy patch at work and need to put in more hours, hours I would normally spend writing. I am hoping to have the next chapter done within the fortnight, if possible, but it may be a bit longer.

Thank you again for your fabulous reviews. I'm chuffed that you all take the time to let me know what you think of the story. I'm also grateful that you seem to be coping with its glacial pace. ;-)

Jack sat at the dining table and stared at the newspaper, lost in thought. He'd slept fitfully, haunted by what she'd said last night, but also by what he'd said back. He was deeply ashamed of his outbursts; he'd never talked to his ex-wife that way, not even at the peak of their troubles. Maybe he was too numb back then, too broken. He blew out a breath and shook his head. Well, not any more. Loving Phryne had dragged him out of a dispassionate existence, turned him into someone who was impetuous, impulsive. Alive.

When he wasn't wallowing in guilt, he was mulling over her words. Yes, what she did was selfish and wrong, but he wasn't angry anymore. He had to admit it made sense. Of course Phryne Fisher would be uncomfortable yearning for someone. She would have felt she was lacking in some way, incomplete, like he did once he let himself love her then constantly looked for signs she loved him back.

He shook his head. Even though he understood her reasoning for doing what she did, he was still struggling to accept the depth of her feelings for him. In all the months he spent pouring over her letters to try and make sense of her withdrawal, he never once thought it could be because she loved him with an intensity that changed who she was, or who she wanted to be. He shouldn't be giving himself too hard a time for getting it so wrong. Who could blame him for assuming she had shared a man's bed. She never did hide her promiscuity from him.

He certainly understood her better now, but he also learnt something about himself, something that had plagued him since the first spark of attraction: he considered himself unworthy of her. Why didn't he ever consider that she was struggling with loving him? He had to stop thinking like that. He was lovable, he reminded himself. A beautiful Italian woman, and now Phryne, showed him that.

He huffed out a wry laugh. What a mess they were in, a mess both of them created. He nodded slowly. He should have known better. Deep down, despite loving her with all his pitiful and fragile heart, he always knew they couldn't have a future together. At least now he knew she thought that too. How could they? She answered to no-one, was fiercely independent, and never hid her disdain for marriage. He ignored all the signs, of course. He was too busy feeling human again after waking from a decade of emotional torpor.

He groaned and rubbed his brow. It was a good thing he was moving away; their unconsummated attraction would eventually drive him batty. He clenched his jaw at the unfairness of their situation and banged his fist on the table, starting at the clatter of crockery. He felt cheated, wrongly done by. He wasn't just walking away from the love of his life, he was losing a companion, his dearest friend. She was his sounding board for work matters, his intellectual sparring partner, and damn good company. Her free-spirited and irrepressible nature, although frustrating at times, was invigorating and what initially attracted him. That and her looks, of course. And her vulnerability. He huffed out a wry laugh. A trait she herself despised. What poor, wretched soul thinks loving someone is a weakness? Only Phryne could think that way.

He heard a creak in the hallway and placed his lukewarm tea on the table by his half-eaten breakfast for the parlourmaid to collect. The footsteps stopped in the doorway. It was Phryne, he could feel her. He turned just as she cleared her throat nervously. He smiled warmly and watched her let out the breath she was holding. She smiled back at him; a heartfelt smile that reached her eyes and lit up her face. His heart skipped a beat. She looked like the Phryne he remembered before this mess came between them.

"Morning, Jack!" she said with all the enthusiasm she could muster after a night without sleep. She swept into the room to join him. "Don't get up." she said, briefly touching his shoulder on her way past as he started to rise. She sat near to him but around the corner of the table with her back to the window to give him some space.

Jack looked at his watch and raised his eyebrows. "I'm impressed."

Phryne narrowed her eyes and smiled at him. "I can get up early when I need to, you know." She felt the teapot. It was warm, but quite full. She wondered if he'd been sitting there for a while mulling over what happened last night. Of course he had. She certainly did, almost all night and all morning. After pouring herself a cup, she looked at the newspaper he was reading. He was still on the front page. "Yesterday's news?"

He nodded with a grunt. "It must cost quite a bit to transport them all the way here."

"Yes, we're certainly a long way from civilisation," she said, widening her eyes briefly. "I don't think I've ever been to such a desolate place."

Jack quirked his undamaged eyebrow and smiled. "Oh? Surely you've travelled to more inhospitable lands. Haven't you trekked across a desert or two?"

"Actually, I have," she said, relaxing into the conversation. "But the places I visited were too populated to ever feel desolate. Even the deserts of Morocco were teeming with people. And camels," she said with a small shudder, "there were quite a few of those dreadful creatures. Shame, really," she said, putting an elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand, "I was quite drawn to them at first with their lovely long eyelashes and haughty air."

Jack scoffed playfully. "Long lashes and haughty air?" He brought his teacup to his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers. "Sounds like someone I know," he murmured before taking a sip.

Phryne grinned. She loved it when he poked fun of her. This felt just like one of their afternoon teas in her garden. She was relieved he was making an effort to move on. Perhaps they could be friends after all.

"Well, that's what I thought too …," she said, leaning back in her chair, "until it spat on me!"

Jack chuckled. "Uh oh." He raised an eyebrow. "Did you spit back?"

"Jack! Of course not!" she said, grinning. "That would be most unladylike." She stuck out her chin and leant towards him, waiting until he leant in too. "I ate it."

Jack barked out an unexpected laugh and then chuckled as he sat back in his chair, shaking his head at her. "You didn't!"

Phryne arched her eyebrows at him theatrically and shrugged a shoulder. "Oh, but I did. I was visiting Morocco with a friend who was writing about her travels. We were invited to have tea with the Sultan." She gave a small shrug. "Charming, but overly concerned about two women travelling alone," she said, rolling her eyes. "After tea he took me aside and offered us protection from the Berbers if I … well, you get my drift. You can imagine how I felt about that! I politely declined, of course. Not my type at all, and his harem was already overflowing with concubines, apparently. Anyway, we were the special guests for a lavish dinner that night. Unfortunately, he gave me the honour of choosing a beast to be slaughtered for the main course. I think he thought I'd be thrilled and ever so grateful and he'd be in with a chance." Phryne leant forward and widened her eyes. "Little did he know it was a great big fat chance. I was horrified of course, but to refuse him would have been most impolite." She shrugged. "The banquet was amazing, but my favourite was the camel tagine with almonds, prunes and honey. Revenge was indeed very sweet."

She took a sip of her tea and watched him as he grinned at her story. He gazed back at her for a while, eventually breaking eye contact to pick up his cup.

Phryne folded her arms on the table and leant towards him. "I'm so pleased we're talking again, Jack." She reached for his hand that was resting on the table close to her, quickly withdrawing it when she heard footsteps in the hall. A few moments later the parlourmaid entered the room.

"Good morning, Miss Fisher. Would you like tea or coffee? Cook will make you some eggs and sausages, or toast and marmalade if you like."

"Just tea and toast please, Amelia," Phryne said, smiling at her.

The maid nodded. Pull on that cord," she said, indicating the bell cord that hung from the ceiling, "if you need anything else." She piled Jack's breakfast plates onto a tray and left the room.

"I've always wanted to visit Africa," Jack said, wanting to continue their conversation, his hands safely tucked under the table on his lap. "I was keen on Egypt, of course, but I think our run in with Foyle may have cured me of that. I'm unlikely to ever travel abroad again, so I'll have to make do with books and my imagination. And," he said, raising an eyebrow and inclining his head towards her, "the stories of others."

Phryne was saddened by the thought of him never travelling. She wanted to reach out to touch him, but refrained. She didn't want to overdo it.

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Jack. I couldn't imagine a life without travel. If you could, where would you go?"

"India," he said without hesitation. "I loved Kipling's stories as a child, which I read in magazines." He too put his elbows on the table and leant forward, lost in thought for a few moments. "They came in handy during the war as I had something to talk about with the Indian soldiers I fought with." He pursed his lips and looked down at the table for a few moments. "Friendly people. Brave and proud, too. Such wonderful storytellers." He looked back at her smiling at him. "I've wanted to travel there ever since. I assume you've been?"

"I haven't, actually, but I've always wanted to. Desperately so after reading A Passage to India a few years ago. I did stop off briefly in Ceylon on the way over on the ship. It was quite charming and the beaches were lovely, but I hear India is so much more wonderful. Top of my list would be the Lake Palace in Udaipur and the ancient forts of Rajputana. I've always wanted to see them."

They smiled at each other, pleased they'd discovered another common interest that allowed them to engage in pleasant and interesting conversation rather than dwell on last night's awkwardness.

"Well then, Miss Fisher," he said, folding the paper and pushing it aside, "perhaps—"

"Jack." She reached out again, this time making contact before he could pull his hand away. She braced herself for rejection as he looked at her hand on his then lifted his eyes to look at her. "Please don't call me that," she said gently. "This is hard enough as it is." To her surprise, he didn't pull his hand away. "This has been so nice," she continued. "I've missed our chats terribly."

Jack stopped fighting the urge to touch her and placed his other hand over hers. He nodded and rubbed his thumb gently over her knuckles, but didn't meet her eye.

"I've missed them, too," he said, looking up at her with brief smile. He took a deep breath. "I … uh," he hesitated and looked back down at their hands. "I'm sorry for what I said last night." He looked at her again and shook his head. "I said some dreadful, hurtful things. I was …"

"Jack, no. Please don't," she said quickly, squeezing his hand. "There's no need to apologise. I understand completely. Everything's become so complicated and difficult for us. I'm the one who behaved badly. You had every right to say what you did."

Jack clicked his tongue and squeezed her hand back. "What I said was cruel, Phryne. That's never right, and I'm very sorry for that."

Phryne nodded and gave him a grateful smile. They gazed at each other fondly until they heard the hallway creak again. They let go and sat back in their chairs, maintaining eye contact until the parlourmaid walked into the room with Phryne's breakfast, which she laid on the table.

"Thank you, Amelia."

The maid turned to face her. "Please call me Millie, miss. Everyone calls me Millie."

Phryne smiled warmly. "Very well." She held out her hand towards Jack. "Millie, I'd like to introduce Detective Inspector Robinson. The Inspector is one of the best in Victoria and is here all the way from near Melbourne to solve this terrible crime."

Millie's eyes darted from Phryne to Jack and back to Phryne. "Victoria?"

"Yes, we're still trying to figure out who this poor man is. Dreadful, don't you think? And to happen here, of all places. I believe he was one of your people. Have you heard anything?" Phryne watched as a small frown flickered across her brow.

"My people are Wiradjuri people," she said to Phryne. "Do you think he's a Wiradjuri man?"

Phryne opened her mouth but didn't know what to say. She looked at Jack, who shrugged. "I don't know. It's possible, I suppose. Where are you from, Millie?"

"Near Wagga Wagga." She picked up the tray and nodded at her. "I've been a bit busy these last few of days, what with the new arrivals and such. Please excuse me, miss."

"Of course, Millie. And you're about to get busier with the guests arriving soon for the party. You must be run off your feet preparing for that."

Millie looked relieved and smiled as she nodded. "Can I get you anything else, miss?"

Phryne smiled back at her warmly. "No, thank you." She watched her nod and then scurry out of the room.

"Well, that was awkward," she said quietly, leaning towards the door so she could watch Millie disappear down the hallway. She looked at Jack who was watching her with a knowing smile. She narrowed her eyes at his expression. "Am I right in suspecting you are thinking what I'm thinking?"

Jack cocked his head and shrugged. "That depends on what you think I'm thinking."

"Well, apart from you knowing what I was up to, I suspect you also think she purposely didn't answer my question about hearing anything about the murder." She took a bite of her toast.

"If you mean being friendly and approachable and engaging her in conversation in the hope she would relax and reveal something, then yes, I knew what you were up to. As for thinking she has heard something about the murder and avoided your question, why would I think that?" He drank the last of his tea and turned in his chair so he could face her. He crossed his legs and placed his clasped hands in his lap.

Phryne put down her toast. She felt like she was being interviewed. "Oh, come on, Jack! Maids know everything about what's going on. They are the eyes and ears of these places."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Not always."

Phryne looked at him incredulously. "You may be an excellent detective, Jack, but I know my maids. Gossip is the mainstay of domestic service. In my experience, they know everything that goes on in a household."

Jack smiled at her. "Well, clearly I've never had a maid, but I've interviewed a fair few of them." He cocked his head and drew down the corners of his mouth. "So, I don't agree. Not all maids know what's going on, especially if they're new or unpopular."

It was Phryne's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting she is either of these things … or both?"

"I'm not sure, I'm yet to interview her, but I suspect she's new. My point is, you can't assume she's in on the gossip just because she's a maid. I think she acquired the position recently and probably put a nose or two out of joint."

"Go on," Phryne said, leaning forward.

"Well, you said yourself that you know your maids. Did it seem like she's been a parlourmaid for long?"

Phryne thought for a few moments, "Well, now that you mention it, no," she said slowly, "she was a bit careless with the china."

Jack nodded. "She also reached across me to collect my plate, which was bad enough, then didn't ask if I'd like another pot of tea. No experienced parlourmaid would forget to ask that. And her hands, did you notice? She had the hands of a much older woman. Washerwoman hands, I'd say. Perhaps one of the Mr Morecrofts tried to procure her a better place in return for favours of the … shall we say, more intimate kind."

Phryne grimaced. "Sexual favours?"

Jack smiled, she was never one to mince words. "Just a hunch, at this stage. If that's the case, he presumably had to convince his mother, or grandmother, depending on which Mr Morecroft is involved, to take her on as parlourmaid, which means that someone lost that coveted position. I can imagine one would get attached to their maid, if they were good. I wonder what convinced Mrs Morecroft to agree to it? Anyway, if this all happened, and that's a big if, I suspect she would've been shunned by the rest of the staff."

Phryne sat back in her chair and folded her arms. "Oh, you are good, Inspector."

"One of the best in Victoria, I believe," he said, flicking up an eyebrow and smiling at her. "I'm surprised you didn't notice."

Phryne looked at him fondly. "Well, in my defence, I've been a bit distracted of late."

Jack smiled and gave her a small nod. They gazed at each other, not bothering to hide their mutual affection now the uncomfortableness of yesterday had faded. Jack felt himself being drawn in deeper and looked down at his hands in his lap, just as Millie bustled back in the room with a fresh pot of tea for him.

"Cook said I should bring you a new pot, sir. I'm sorry I didn't ask before. Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No thank you. I'm fine."

Millie nodded at both of them and quickly left the room. Jack looked at Phryne with a smirk. She flicked up her eyebrows and smiled back.

"I think you may be onto something."

Jack shrugged. "Perhaps, but regardless of whether she knows anything, she has valuable insight into her culture and would know how best to approach the Aboriginal staff. I'm talking to her today." He paused. "I'd appreciate your assistance, she seems comfortable with you."

Phryne grinned. "Thank you, Jack. That means a lot to me." Her smile quickly faded when he excused himself and made a move to stand.

"Where are you going?" she asked a little too quickly.

"Into town to talk to the acting Detective."

Phryne frowned. "Acting?"

Jack pressed his lips together and nodded. "Wright's gone walkabout, apparently." He raised his eyebrows and gave her a knowing look. "So has his good mate Frederick Morecroft. Not sure when I'll get to interview them, everyone was vague about when they'd return. I'll poke around a bit after that and pay the publican a visit. They're like the maids of the town," he said with a smirk. "Speaking of maids, I'm interviewing Millie at two. See you then?"

Phryne nodded and smiled. "I'll be there. Good luck with the town maid."

He smiled back at her, nodded, and left the room.

Phryne's eyes followed him into the hall. She twisted to watch him walk along the verandah once she heard the front door close, willing him to turn to look at her as he walked past the dining room windows. He didn't. He walked briskly, like he had a job to do. She sighed and turned back to her breakfast. What on earth just happened? She closed her eyes and shook her head. She promised herself she wouldn't do that, wouldn't touch him, wouldn't talk about how she felt unless he initiated it, but she had failed to hide how she felt yet again. She put her head back and blew out a breath; she had no self-control around him. She was almost relieved he was moving away. She rolled her eyes and put her head in her hand. No she wasn't. How could she think that? She was devastated. Maybe if they could work well together on the case without making it personal, he would rethink the move. She looked at her watch. She had six hours to fall out of love with him.

-o0o-

Jack's battered car bounced and rattled along the dirt road back to Yarrowee Station, back to Phryne. His thoughts should have been on the interviews, even if they were disappointingly unenlightening, but he was still thinking about his morning with Phryne. He shook his head. He had to stop letting her touch him like that. It felt good, too good. And no more gazing at each other either. It was too easy to think they still had something special when they looked at each other like that, whatever that was. He couldn't allow himself to think that way anymore.

He parked under the peppercorn tree and ran his fingers through the cool, fragrant leaves on the way to the study. He threw his notepad on the table, checked his watch and sat heavily in the chair by the window, turning to look at the view.

He let out a small groan and put his elbows on the table so he could cradle his head in his hands. Just a few minutes reflection before she arrived. He closed his eyes. He was back to being rattled, conflicted. She certainly wasn't acting like a woman who was trying to move on from him. Perhaps she was just disappointed she'd be losing an ally on the force, one who had let her get away with so much these last couple of years. One who also acknowledged her considerable skills and had come to rely on her help. Nope. She still had feelings for him and was struggling just as much as he was. He was sure of it.

"Jack?"

He snapped his head up to see her standing before him. He attempted lightheartedness. "Sneaking up on me now?"

"Hardly. I was as thunderous as an elephant on those creaky old boards. You must have been miles away. Are you unwell? I can get you aspirin."

He sat back in his seat. "No, thank you. I'm fine. I was just thinking about the case."

Phryne nodded and looked at him quietly for a while. She glanced down at the table. "I'll be back in a jiffy."

He watched her trot out the door and along the verandah. She returned after a few minutes with a damp cloth, some pencils and paper.

"I've ordered us a pot of tea," she said to him as she wiped the table and chairs to get the dust he'd missed yesterday, "as well as some biscuits. We can't detect on an empty stomach, Jack."

He smiled. He had to stop moping and mulling over his decision and their predicament and look at it for what it was: one last opportunity to spend time with the woman who had captured his heart and dominated his thoughts for the last couple of years. The woman who had also made him a better detective. If anyone was going to solve this case, it would be them, working together.

Phryne smiled back and sat down next to him. "How shall we play it? Do you want me to lead? When is she due, by the way?"

Jack looked at his watch. "I changed the time to two fifteen so we could talk first. And yes, you should lead."

Phryne nodded. "How did the interviews go this morning?"

Jack pursed his lips and shook his head. "Waste of time. I could have telephoned in. The police were hostile and unhelpful. And I got the distinct impression that it wasn't because they thought I was stepping on their toes, either. They're hiding something. Sergeant Peters was particularly uncomfortable in my presence and the acting detective was surly. As was the publican. Everyone was tight lipped and hostile. Makes me think the whole community is either hiding something or are too scared to talk." He frowned. "Something's not right."

"I agree, Jack. Something's definitely not right. But don't worry," she said, grinning as she placed her hand briefly on his arm, "they don't stand a chance against us."

Jack huffed out a small laugh and then smiled at her. "Right then," he said in a business-like fashion. "Let's solve this murder."

-o0o-

Phryne looked across the table at Jack picking at his dinner. He was pensive, sombre, with none of the lightheartedness he exhibited that morning. She had known something was wrong when she walked into the study, but he seemed to perk up and was fine during the interview with Millie. Even playfully bragging afterwards about being right about her being in the job for a short period, even though that was somewhat negated by the news that it was Mrs Morecroft who insisted she take the position after placing her parlourmaid into the newly vacated role of cook. Phryne left the study after the interview, agreeing that her presence when he interviewed the shearers would, in their eyes, emasculate him. He seemed fine the last time she saw him.

Perhaps, like her, he was simply exhausted after the emotional strain of the last couple of days, coupled with little sleep. He mostly avoided her eye throughout the rest of the meal, occasionally flicking his eyes up at her. When she caught him looking at her, she quickly smiled at him. He forced himself to smile back before looking down at his dinner again.

After the main course, he placed his napkin on the table and thanked Mrs Morecroft for a delicious dinner. He wanted to go over his notes after the interviews today, he explained, before having an early night. He stood, said goodnight to everyone, then walked out the door. Phryne waited a few moments and quickly excused herself so she could trot after him. She saw him in the light of the verandah, walking to his room.

"Jack!"

He stopped but didn't turn around straight away. She saw him take in a deep breath and release it before turning to face her.

She caught up with him. "Perhaps you'd like a more comfortable setting to go over your notes. We could discuss the case together in the cottage." She shrugged. "In case we missed something. And I'm interested in how the rest of the interviews went."

She waited a few moments for Jack to respond, but he said nothing.

"Also," she said, trying to fill the awkward silence, "I have whiskey." She smiled, confident he wouldn't be able to say no to that.

Jack was quiet for a moment and studied her face. "Ahh … no thank you Phryne. I'm off whiskey for a while." When she looked confused and disappointed, he added, "I didn't learn anything of interest today, but we can talk more about that tomorrow if you like. The long drive up here, the accident and then …," he paused and looked down at his feet, using the brim of his hat the hide his face. "It's been a tough couple of days."

"I understand, Jack" Phryne said gently. "It's been a tough few months, for both of us." After a short pause, she said, "I would like to talk more about the case tomorrow. Thank you. Will you be holding more interviews?"

He looked up at her. "Yes, after lunch. The cook, who's been too busy, the wool grader and his wife, and more shearers." He gave her a small nod. "See you sometime after breakfast, then." He turned to move away.

"Jack," she said quickly, holding his arm gently. He turned his head towards her but his body was still angled away from her. She moved around him so she could face him, pleased he hadn't pulled away.

"Thank you for today. I know Aunt P put you … well us, in an incredibly awkward position, but … I'm … I'm so glad you stayed. I really enjoyed our time together today, and I'm grateful …," she paused to take a deep breath, she was getting emotional again and her voice had started to waver. She stepped closer and held his other arm, so they were standing a short distance apart. He looked down at the short space between them, blinking quickly, glancing at her every now and then.

"I'm grateful for your good grace, Jack. You had every right to shun me, to exclude me from the case, but I'm so thankful you didn't. Not because I'm desperate to solve a murder, but because of the time spent with you. I had a lovely time with you today." She relaxed her grip on him but didn't let go. He was quiet, but his breathing had quickened. She suspected he was feeling emotional too.

He lifted his eyes to hers and nodded as he took a step back from her. "I won't be looking at my notes for long before I retire to bed with my book," he said, ignoring what she had just said.

"Oh?" Phryne said, hoping to keep him talking. "What are you reading?"

He smiled at her and reached out to briefly touch her arm. "Nothing that will interest you, I'm sure. Goodnight Phryne." He turned away from her to walk back to his room.

Phryne wanted to grab him and shake him and yell, Everything you do interests me!

"Jack!" she said urgently, stepping towards him and taking hold of his hand.

He stopped and turned slowly.

She moved close to him again, tightening her grip on his hand. "You've been awfully quiet this evening. Is there something you need to say to me?"

He shook his head. "You were very helpful today, Phryne. Thank you." He took a step back from her and slipped his hand from hers.

Phryne shook her head. "That's not what I meant, Jack. About us … do you want to talk more about us? Are you still angry with me?"

He looked at her sad face. She was doing everything to try and make it right again and was hurting terribly too. He would always be affected by seeing her like that.

"Only a little bit," he said, managing a small smile. "I'm sad, mostly."

Phryne held her breath and nodded. She pressed her lips together to try and still her quivering chin. Jack clicked his tongue and stepped closer. He knew he shouldn't, but he did anyway. He cupped her jaw and gently brushed her cheek with his thumb.

Phryne closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing as her body reacted to his touch. She took hold of his other arm and moved closer still, breathing more heavily now. She opened her eyes and saw him gazing at her parted lips. She closed them again and tilted her face up, breathing out his name, willing him to kiss her.

Jack widened his eyes and straightened. He slowly withdrew his hand and took a step away, forcing Phryne to let go of his arm. He was shocked by how close he came to kissing her. He looked at the ground for a few moments while he regained composure.

"I'll see you in the morning, then," he said, still breathing heavily. He bent his head and touched the brim of his hat. "Goodnight Phryne."

"Goodnight Jack," she whispered. She forced herself to smile. "Sleep well."