cause for divorce having to be no more than the simple breakdown of a marriage, the carving-up process could be as painful and complicated as the old way of establishing guilt, and often gave people cause to pause...
But he said wryly, ‘Don’t worry, Clare, my mind is made up and here is what’s involved.’
Half an hour later she had to acknowledge that he had a razor-sharp mind and the considerable Hewitt empire at his fingertips. Also, that the soon-to-be ex-Mrs Lachlan Hewitt would be very handsomely provided for.
‘Well,’ she said at length, ‘on the basis of what you’ve told me this appears to be a generous settlement and I don’t think there should be much for her to contest.’
‘Don’t you believe it.’
She looked at him enquiringly.
‘She’ll contest every valuation down to every stick of furniture and throw in some interesting and highly fanciful claims, I have no doubt. It’ll be your job to see she doesn’t get away with them.’
‘I see.’ Clare glanced at him again and felt an odd little tremor run through her because of the glimpse of something cold and hard his words had revealed. But he said no more on the subject of his wife and they concluded the appointment shortly afterwards.
She watched him drive away from her first-floor window, in a maroon Range Rover with cream leather trim, and, although it was no business of hers, couldn’t help wondering what Serena Hewitt had done to incur the displeasure of her good-looking, clever husband.
Of course, it could be the other way around, she mused as she let the blind drop, but somehow she didn’t think so.
And nothing over the next twelve months caused her to change her mind.
Serena did indeed contest every valuation; she contested the validity of the Hewitt family company and trusts, the ownership of the homestead and all the furniture and objets d’art in it. She even contested the ownership of the two Irish wolfhounds, Paddy and Flynn, that she claimed she had bought as pups. And Clare had to fight each claim every inch of the way.
Curiously, the only thing Serena accepted with dignity and reasonableness was the access Lachlan Hewitt should have to his son, Sean, which was virtually unlimited.
But finally it was all accomplished, a divorce was finalized, and on that day Lachlan Hewitt said to Clare, ‘Well done, Slim. Can I buy you dinner?’
Her eyebrows rose because, apart from nicknaming her Slim quite early on in the piece, their relationship had been strictly professional.
He observed her raised eyebrows with a faint smile twisting his lips. ‘I am a free man now, Ms Montrose, if it’s your conscience you’re worried about—or mine. Besides, I feel you deserve the best meal and best bottle of champagne I can come up with. You’ve certainly earned it, that was quite a fight you put up.’
Her lips quivered in suppressed laughter. ‘If you must know there were days when I found myself wishing you’d at least give her the damn dogs.’
He laughed softly. ‘Paddy and Flynn are as big as small ponies. How she planned to have them in an apartment in Sydney makes the mind boggle.’
‘In that case I accept, Mr Hewitt,’ Clare said after a moment’s thought.
And, having never discussed his ex-wife, Serena, personally, that was the last mention he made of her.
They had dinner that night, then again a month later.
It was on this occasion that he said to her, ‘I’d like to see you again, Clare.’
She looked across the candle at him, her aquamarine eyes slightly wary.
‘But only if that’s what you would like. You see, whilst I thought it was inappropriate at the time to tell you this, you’ve been on my mind in a certain way for many months now.’
And he looked at her with a clear question in his eyes.
Clare found herself breathing a little raggedly as she recalled the many times over the past months when she’d had to admit to herself that she was attracted to this man, and had wished quietly that he was not a client, not a divorcee. Times when she’d lain in bed at night with the sound of the sea rhythmically bathing the shore so close by, and wondering how he saw her.
‘I,’ she said slowly, ‘have had the same problem at times.’
He looked faintly wry. ‘Then you hid it well.’
‘It would have been unprofessional to do otherwise. For that matter, so did you.’
He grimaced but didn’t answer directly. ‘Your career means a lot to you, doesn’t it, Clare?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is that why you’re looking a little troubled and wary?’ he said gently, and slid his hand over to cover hers.
‘No. I suppose I’m surprised for one thing.’ Her fingers trembled beneath his. ‘I’m not terribly experienced for another.’
‘You shouldn’t be surprised. In your own quiet way you’re—captivating. And we know each other pretty well now.’
‘In some ways,’ she agreed.
‘Walk with me along the beach?’ he suggested.
The beach was only across the road and she agreed. They took their shoes off and paddled in the shallows, Clare holding the skirt of her long floral dress up. Then they sat on a bench on a grassy promontory and watched the lights of a big ship as it slid up the coast, and the flash of the Byron Bay Lighthouse.
To her surprise, they talked. He told her about his great-grandfather and how he’d come to Australia with only a few pounds in his pocket. He talked about his son, Sean, who was now seven and had a very high IQ and an equally high propensity for getting into trouble, and about how his latest crop of macadamia nuts was progressing.
And she responded, gradually relaxing and telling him about her teenage years when her fascination with law had begun to emerge, her years at university and something of her home life. She’d grown up in Armidale, a leafy, pretty town of some substance on the tablelands of New South Wales about three hundred and seventy kilometres south of Lennox Head. Armidale was home to the University of New England and home to her father’s prosperous tractor and farm machine agency.
She told Lachlan that she was an only child, and something about her gentle, retiring mother. Also, how her father dominated her mother and had tried to dominate her.
‘Which fed your ambition, I suppose,’ he commented.
‘Probably,’ she agreed with a little grimace.
‘Helped along by being as bright as a tack, no doubt.’
‘That hasn’t always been an asset,’ she said slowly.
He put an arm around her shoulders. ‘Frightened all guys away, you mean?’
Clare hesitated because she was suddenly acutely conscious of him, but she tested it in her mind,
