A Changing Land(104)
‘When my time is over my descendants will benefit from the substantial legacy I leave. The Gordons will be remembered. I don’t believe I owe anyone,’ he looked at her, ‘any more or less than that.’
‘I see,’ Claire replied tightly. Although used to his harsh demeanour, there was an unmistakeable edge to his words. ‘So you care not for our small family, for those who have supported your endeavours and assisted in giving your family name a measure of respectability.’
‘I am beyond caring about respectability. It means nothing. A man can raise himself up to the highest echelons and still be considered no better than a dog by some.’ Having paused at the furthest end of the garden, Hamish removed his arm from hers and looked out across the wavering grassland. A mob of kangaroos was travelling slowly across his field of vision.
‘Hamish, what has happened to create such a fury within you? I have seen it growing like a watered seed these last months.’ His brown hands stretched wide across the weathered fence. She reached tentatively towards him, then thought better of the action. ‘You are angry at something that has no bearing on our relationship. And I have not been at my best these past weeks. Between the two of us our marital difficulties have tripled through circumstances that will surely pass.’
Hamish gave such a sigh that Claire’s eyes moistened. She turned aside, wiping angrily at her tears. ‘We have had common interests,’ she sniffed. ‘Respectability for one: Why, you courted Sydney society for years and now we have friends among the most prominent families in the country. Have you forgotten the length of the time it has taken for us to be accepted? When I think of the weeks spent in Sydney during the season when only a sprinkling of invitations were ours to choose from. When I think of the effort I myself went to –’
‘Then don’t think, my dear,’ Hamish said impatiently, continuing his walk. ‘You will find it less taxing. And if we are honest with ourselves I think you will agree that the upper echelons of society are what you aspire to. In truth I have little need of such things anymore. All of our preening and amiable conversation has been for Angus, after all.’
Claire smelled the pungent aroma of tobacco as Hamish stuffed his pipe, lit it and inhaled deeply. They were standing beneath the branches of a spreading gum tree, the muted pinky-blue of dawn creeping over the countryside. ‘How can you say that?’ Claire’s face was white, her features stiff with exasperation.
‘Because there is something far more important than respectability. However, you are a woman,’ he spoke a little gentler, ‘and as such God divined you to see virtue in matters of little consequence.’
She bit her knuckle, glad of the half-light. What had watered this cold wedge which had so recently grown within her husband?
‘Once Luke has left with the mob, may I suggest a little sojourn,’ Hamish stated between puffs of his pipe. ‘I thought perhaps a trip to the Blue Mountains to escape February’s heat; then some sea air.’
Claire thought back to Luke’s revelation, how his own mother Rose was not yet dead when Hamish became her unknown benefactor. ‘You will be joining me?’ Despite the mortification of the expected answer, Claire needed to know.
Hamish smoothed his moustache. ‘No. You will take Angus with you. He will be attending the Kings School at Parramatta.’
Claire shuddered inwardly at the calmness with which her future was being decided. Did he really have no affection for her anymore, not even as the mother of his son and heir? Or was her current tendency towards melancholy making her presume the very worst. The very worst, she repeated silently; if the heir was no longer at Wangallon, what need was there for her?
‘Many of the landed board their sons at an early age,’ Hamish continued. ‘The advantages are numerous. Apart from the educational and sporting benefits, the boys mix with the sons of other wealthy pastoralists, forming lifelong friendships with those of a similar social standing.’ He paused and looked at her directly. ‘That alone should make you agreeable.’
Now he was ridiculing her values. Dragging her feet up the verandah steps Claire attempted to formulate some last drastic retort, yet she could think of nothing that would wound him. He was beyond the understanding of mortal men. Claire lifted her head proudly as she walked towards the main door. There standing in the doorway was Angus. His face was pale.
‘Mother?’
Angus’s mouth opened, fat tears began streaming down his distorted face to roll across his cheeks and lips. ‘Mother?’ His violet eyes searched Claire’s face. ‘Father? W-what will I do in the city? What about Wallace and Lee and –’