“He’ll find a way.”
I shook my head.
“He was ready to wait for Rosa … until you came.”
“He can go on waiting for Rosa. When did you propose the marriage should take place?”
“She is only fifteen. I have been thinking of when she is sixteen but that is a little young. Rosa is young for her age. I had been thinking of her seventeenth birthday but when you came I thought it was a long time to wait. Anything can happen in a few weeks.”
“Don’t worry, Maud. Oh dear, this has been a frank conversation.”
“I didn’t mean it to be. I just wanted to know …”
“Whether I was going to accept him. Have no fear. I assure you again and again the answer is most definitely No.”
“But he won’t take No for an answer. He never has done. He won’t let anything stand in the way of what he wants.”
“You’ll see,” I said.
She stood up. “Thank you for letting me talk to you and thank you for being so understanding.”
“I’m glad I know exactly how you feel. Don’t worry any more. In a short time I shall be gone.”
“He’ll never let you go.”
“That, Maud, is a matter for me to decide.”
She left me, still worrying, I was sure, unable to accept that this god-like creature could ever be thwarted.
Once again I had forgotten my grief for a brief spell. I was certainly stimulated by this battle with Gregory Donnelly; and I wondered how a loving mother could actually wish her daughter married to a man whom she knew as well as I did.
I received a letter from a lawyer in Sydney in which he informed me that my father had been considering selling the Australian property to the manager, Mr. Gregory Donnelly, and he thought I might think it a good idea to put the sale into negotiation. He had written to my father’s solicitors in England who were in agreement with him, and in view of the tragedy, the sale seemed desirable. It was unwise to have property so far from home, the place had been excellently managed over the years and it seemed only right to sell it to the man who had done so much to make it prosperous.
I read the letter through several times. It was what Gregory wanted. Only he would prefer to marry me and not have to buy it. It seemed to me that I could make my feelings clear by agreeing to the sale and accepting the offer he had made.
That day, for the first time after my illness, I went out riding. I felt very feeble and could not stay long in the saddle. I thought of the long journey back to Sydney and then there would be the exhausting business of getting on the ship which would take me home. It seemed that they were right when they said I must get stronger. I had suffered from a virulent fever and goodness knows what else. Being in a debilitated state during those weeks I had been conscious of a death wish and had cursed the fates which had prevented my joining my parents and brother in their watery grave.
I wanted to go on mourning but I had to accept the fact that I had grown a little apart from the tragedy. I began to think with a faint pleasure of seeing Cador again. I knew memories would be very nearly unbearable, but I wanted to go home.
In a week or so I should feel less tired and then I would set about making arrangements to leave. I supposed we should need Gregory’s help in getting to Sydney. I remembered that night when I had lain in my sleeping bag and had awakened to find him standing beside me. He had said something about defending me from prowling dingoes. I imagined myself on such a journey with him … with Helena and the baby. Jonnie was not really old enough for such travel.
There were so many problems to be considered.
I had not ridden far. I was too tired; moreover I had had my lesson about going too far from the house. When I came back to the stables Gregory was there.
He smiled at the sight of me and hastened to me.
“Ah, riding. That’s a good sign … provided you keep close to the house. First time, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Bit tiring, eh?” He attempted to lift me out of the saddle.
“Thank you. I can manage.”
“You look like a medieval page with your hair like that. It’s unusual. I like it.”
I stood beside him. I said: “By the way. I have written to the solicitors in Sydney. I’ve told them to go ahead with the sale.”
He raised his eyebrows but otherwise betrayed nothing.
“So,” he said slowly, “the property is to be mine.”
“When the sale is completed … yes.”
“That’s very gratifying.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
I turned away but he caught my arm. “Have you been thinking …”
“My mind is not usually a blank, so I suppose I have.”
“I mean about us.”
“Us?”
“Yes … you and me … us!”
“The sale of the property, you mean. Obviously …”
“No. My proposal.”
“There was nothing to think about. I answered that on the spot. It doesn’t require any meditation whatsoever.”
“You are a stubborn woman.”
“No. It is all very simple. I don’t have to think about it. The answer from the first has been definitely No.”
“Don’t be too sure.”
“I am absolutely sure.”
“You’ll change your mind.”
“Good afternoon,” I said. I knew that he was watching me as I went into the house.
He made me feel very uneasy. Perhaps it was due to Maud’s assurances that he was certain to get his own way. He always had, she implied; and he always would.
That evening I was very tired. My illness had left me weaker than I had realized.
I said I would rest and not join them for the evening meal.
I had a good deal to think about. The sale of the property must not go through until I had left. I should hate to think that I was under his roof. I supposed that it could be arranged fairly quickly; but by agreeing that the sale should go ahead, I had made it necessary for us to make our plans about leaving.
Maud came in with a tray.
I said I was not hungry.
“I’ve brought you a little soup. It’ll do you good. Try it. It just slips down. And there’s some hot damper to go with it.”
She sat beside the bed and I took the tray.
“It’s made from the remains of the lamb … full of goodness. I always like to get the last bit of nourishment out of everything.”
She watched me while I spooned the soup into my mouth.
She said: “I hope you don’t think the worse of me after our little talk.”
“No, Maud, I understand perfectly. I know how you must feel having a daughter like Rosa and wanting the best for her. It’s natural.”
“Well, there are few chances out here. I sometimes wonder if I ought to try to get back home. But what could we do there? I’d have to work and so would she. It wouldn’t be much better than here.”
“No. It seems that Gregory Donnelly is the big catch, especially when he owns this place.”
“Is that going through then?”
“I think it very likely.”
“You’re wise. You wouldn’t want to come out here again.”
“There are too many bitter memories … but there will be at home, too. They are everywhere. There is no escaping them.”
I had finished the soup. She took the tray and said: “Thank you for being so understanding.”
That night I was very ill.
I knew it was the soup.
Oh, Maud, I thought, how little I knew you! Do you want to be rid of me so much?
I felt so ill at moments that I thought I was going to die.
It was about four in the morning before the griping pains and the sickness stopped and I began to feel a little better.
I sank back into my bed with relief. I was still alive.
Yet it had not been long ago when I was thinking longingly of death. I had wanted to be with them. I had felt it was unfair that they should go and I be left behind; but now I felt this overwhelming sense of relief. I was alive and I wanted to live.