Chapter Twelve

Kitty tossed aside the sewing that had been resting in her lap, rose from her chair in the sitting room and crossed to the fireplace, where she picked up the poker. She jabbed at the blazing fire, sending sparks shooting up the chimney.

Her words erupted into the quiet room. “I don’t think William is ever going to let me become involved in the business. He let me ride out with him just once to see how the work is done and since then he’s refused to take me again, or to discuss any aspect of the business with me.”

Bella looked up from her needlework. “Well, my dear, he’s no different from most men. They believe a woman’s place is in the home, not in business.”

Kitty turned and again attacked the fire, her frustration making her poke it viciously, sending more sparks flying up the chimney. “I would so love to be involved. I’m not like you, content just to work in the garden or do needlework. It was fun when we were arranging the new furniture and making the curtains, but it’s months since we finished that. And you and Mary run the house so efficiently, there’s nothing for me to do.”

“I’m sure there are things you could do, if you want to help. Why, you could…”

Kitty cut her words short. “No, that’s not what I want. I want to be part of the business; I’m sure I could help William. But he won’t even talk to me about it. He tells me not to bother my head about it, and that I wouldn’t understand. It makes me fume. He can’t bear not to be in complete control; he wants me to think he’s so clever.”

“Perhaps that wouldn’t hurt, dear, at least occasionally. All men want their wives to look up to them.”

“Then he should give me cause to look up to him. I hate the way he treats the men, and how he despises the locals. He thinks he’s so much better than anyone else around here. He refuses to let us meet any of the other landowners’ wives. He says he hasn’t met anyone else good enough for us to associate with yet.” She shook her head. “He’s become so arrogant since we’ve been here. He was rather diffident, when we first met him, but since his family left he’s changed. I think he was afraid of his mother and now she’s gone he can be himself. Which can be quite unpleasant, I’m afraid.”

Bella sighed. “I must say he does speak very sharply at times, even to you, I’ve noticed.”

“Oh, yes. To everyone, including me.” Kitty shook her head, her lips twisting wryly. “I knew when I married him that I would have to make the best I could of our marriage, that it might not be everything I want, but I didn’t expect him to isolate us like this. And to treat me as if I have no brain. I’m sure I could be helpful to William with the bookwork if he would only let me, and I would so love to help.”

“I remember your father always said you were very good with figures. Perhaps you’ll be able to persuade William in time. Perhaps you should try flattering him a little, Kitty. That sometimes works, you know. Discreetly, of course.”

“Perhaps.” Kitty sighed loudly as she took a book from the bookcase and sat down to read as Bella bent her head again to her needlework.

Interest in the book eluded Kitty. Her mind focused instead on her life with William. She glanced across at Bella, engrossed in embroidering a cushion cover. Her mother was happy here, she knew, content to have security and a comfortable lifestyle, but Kitty was finding the lack of stimulation and other companionship tedious. She had not realized that Bulahdelah would be quite so small and isolated, although Rufe tried to warn her, she remembered.

Because William considered the other landowners in the district, who were mostly colonials, inferior to himself, he refused to invite them and their wives to the house. Consequently when he retired to his study, as he did most evenings after dinner, she had only Bella for company. Much as she loved her mother, she longed for the company of other women of similar age. But if William would only discuss the business with her, let her take some part in it, she believed she would be satisfied.

The only time he showed her much attention was in bed, and his interest in that aspect of their life never waned. Her almost nightly experiences with William were certainly far from her expectations of what a loving marriage would be. She received little pleasure from his attentions. There had been occasions when she had started to feel sensations that were quite enjoyable, but it had all been over so quickly that she was left feeling quite up in the air, angry with William but not really knowing why. At times she pleaded a headache to escape his attentions, but mostly she resigned herself to accepting her lot.

Sighing, she returned once more to the problem of gaining a foothold in the business. She made up her mind that tonight, after dinner, she would try again.

****

“Yes, what is it?” William asked irritably, frowning as he looked up from the papers on his desk as Kitty entered his study.

“Why, William, I thought perhaps you’d care to come and sit in the drawing room with me for a while tonight instead of being in here alone. I could play the piano, if you like.”

“I don’t have time for such frivolities. I have a business to run, you know, and it’s not without problems.”

“Of course I know,” Kitty replied sweetly, remembering Bella’s advice. “I know you work very hard. That’s why I would love to be able to help you in some way.”

He banged his fist on the desk. “I do not want to have to remind you again that women do not discuss business. I have made that clear on more than one occasion.”

Kitty winced, but forced herself to continue calmly. “It’s just that I would dearly like to relieve you of a little of your load. My father trained me to understand figures; he said I was quite good at them. What particular problem do you have at the moment? Perhaps I could assist you.”

William sat back in his chair and regarded her through narrowed eyes, tapping on the desk with his pen. He chewed briefly on its end for a few seconds, and then waved it over the pile of papers. “I have all this work to get through, and I’m just looking at this advice that has come regarding the payment we received for our last lot of timber. It’s much less than the first lot, and I need to discover why. Probably they’re trying to cheat me, but I haven’t had time yet to peruse it properly.”

“Perhaps I could check it against the first one and see if I can discover why. That would let you continue with all the other work you have to do.”

“Well…Hrrmph…” He cleared his throat. “I suppose it’s a fairly simple task. It would let me get on with these other pressing matters…hrrmph…if you think you might be able to understand it.”

“I could try, William.” She put out her hand to take the papers, and he handed them over with only slight hesitation.

Sitting at a small side table she compared the two statements, which listed the amount of each type of timber sent and the value of each lot. Running her eye over the figures, she soon saw that the most recent statement did not include any cedar, which had paid the largest amount by far in the first shipment.

Glancing at William she saw that he was watching her surreptitiously while riffling through the other papers on his desk. It wouldn’t do to let him see she had picked up the reason so quickly, when he obviously had no idea, so she continued looking at the sheets for a few minutes.

“Why, it seems there’s no cedar on this last statement, but there was a large amount on the first one. Cedar is the most expensive timber we own, according to these figures, so that accounts for the difference. Didn’t we cut cedar this time?”

“I’m sure we would have. I’ll speak to Morgan in the morning. The mill owner probably thinks he can cheat me. Well, I’ll soon put him straight about that.”

“Would there be any reason why the men would not have cut cedar this time?”

“I can think of none, but I’ll sort it out in the morning. Have no fear of that.”

“I’m sure you will.” Kitty paused, smiling at him as she wondered how to persuade him to let her attend to the remaining paperwork. It was obvious that he really had little idea of what to do with it. “You have so much to do outside, and now you have this extra problem to sort out. I wonder if I could possibly help with some of this other paperwork you have on your desk? I might be able to understand it and leave you free for the important things you need to attend to. What is it about, William?”

William waved a hand over the papers. “It’s the store accounts that have to be sorted for each worker so that money can be taken out of their wages. They’re brought to me each week, but I’ve been far too busy to attend to them. It’s quite simple really, I suppose even you might be able to understand them.”

Kitty bit down an angry reply. Her mouth curved in a sweet smile. “I’ll look at them in the morning and see if I can understand them. And now perhaps we can go into the other room and I’ll play the piano for a while. It might help to relax you after your busy day.”

****

As William snored alongside her later that night, Kitty reflected on how she had acted. Her mother had been right, and she had achieved what she wanted, through scheming. If that was how it had to be, so be it. Now, without letting William realize what she was doing, she would make sure she made herself invaluable to him by doing all the paperwork. And then perhaps she could slowly ease her way into becoming more involved in the running of the business.

****

The next morning William set out full of anger. Was the mill owner trying to cheat him or was Morgan deliberately leaving the cedar uncut hoping to have the chance to steal it for himself when his master went to Sydney?

“I shall damn well find out,” he muttered, turning his horse’s head toward the site by the river where the gang was felling trees. Arriving there he dismounted and stamped across to confront Morgan.

Morgan straightened up from where he was stacking logs onto a dray for carting to the punt and nodded to him. “Morning, Mr. Barron.”

Without returning the greeting, William snapped at his manager. “Show me the cedar you have ready to send down to the mill.”

Morgan shook his head, his face impassive. “There is none.”

A wave of fury swept through William. So, Morgan was the offender. Obviously planning to steal it behind his back. The blood rushed to his head, causing a drumming in his ears. He raised his voice. “What do you mean, there is none? Why aren’t you cutting my cedar? I suppose you’re planning to steal it for yourself when I go down to Sydney.” He took a menacing step forward, raising his arm with the whip in his hand.

Morgan stood his ground. “No. There’s none down here to cut.”

William dropped his arm. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the men had stopped work and were watching the exchange. “What do you mean none to cut? I have plenty of cedar on my property.”

“Yes. But not down here. There’s none left close to the river.”

“Then why are you cutting here?”

“Because you ordered me to.”

William’s stomach lurched as he had a sudden recollection of the day he told Morgan to cut close to the river.

“Why didn’t you tell me there is no cedar down here?” The only sign he could see that Morgan was upset was a slight narrowing of his eyes.

“I tried to explain, but you wouldn’t listen. You objected to having to haul it so far to the river. You made it quite plain that you’re the boss and I’m to do as you say, so I did.”

William longed to slash at that smug face with his whip. Resisting the urge with difficulty, he clamped his jaw shut. He had to swallow before any words would come out. “You will stop cutting here. Leave this and take the men back to the other site. And I want you to cut as much cedar as you possibly can.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Barron,” Morgan replied.

Turning on his heel, William walked stiffly back to his horse. Without looking around, he remounted and rode away. He headed along the riverbank and then turned on to a track that led up an incline. The further he rode, the steeper the track became as it passed granite outcrops. He rode until the horse could go no further up the side of the mountain, clothed in forest with steep vertical cliffs at its top, which towered over Bulahdelah.

Reining in his horse, he dismounted and after tying it to a nearby sapling, climbed further up the barely discernible track until he reached a small clearing. Here, he sat with his back against a large boulder. This was his favorite spot, a place where he came by himself to look out over his estate and dream of the time when he would be wealthy.

Spread out beneath him, William could see over the treetops from one end of his property to the other, and beyond. The winding river that formed one of Redwoods’ boundaries far below glinted silver in the sun. Dotted here and there he could see the workers’ cottages, each surrounded by a small clearing. And his own home, up the hill from the river, the largest house in the area. This sight usually gave him a warm feeling.

But this morning that feeling was replaced by a sense of dread—dread that Kitty would learn of his blunder with the cedar.

He’d always known he was not terribly smart. Whatever he tried to do, he never achieved success. His clumsy efforts had always been met with scorn from his smarter siblings and impatience from his father. Worst of all had been the endless sarcastic comparison with his brothers that his mother heaped on him. Try as he might, William had never been able to please her. How happy he had been when he saw his parents sail away from Sydney, happy to be free at last from his mother’s scathing remarks.

Free. Free to be in charge of his own life, free to be the master of his own world, to know that the men who worked his property must look up to him as their master. It gave him a heady sense of importance that he had never known before. And he loved the feeling. In his daydreams, William always saw himself returning to England in glory, wealthy, successful, a timber baron home from Australia. And his mother would be smiling at him and telling him how proud she was of him.

And he would have his beautiful wife at his side.

Of course, Kitty said that she would never visit his mother, but she would change her mind, she would do as he said. She was his wife and she would obey him. But first, he must make sure she never learned of his error with the timber. Or that he had made a mistake by ordering the workers’ store slips to be passed on to him each week. They had piled up and he’d been unsure of what to do with them. If Kitty found out, she would consider him incompetent.

His insides churned at the thought that she might discover his mistakes. Anything but that. She must always look up to him, see him as master of her life. It was the measure of his success. Nothing must change that. Well, he’d become good at covering mistakes, he would put the blame on Morgan; she would never know. Yes, that was how to handle it.

Calmer now, William retraced his steps back to his horse. Remounting, he made his way down the hillside, and when he reached the bottom, he headed into Bulahdelah and dismounted outside the Plough Inn. Tying his horse to the rail, he made his way inside to the private parlor. He checked the clock hanging on the wall; he was in good time for his usual session with his newfound companions.