Dark inheritance (25 page)

The man complied, a glint of humour in his dark eyes as Gina graciously handed Barbara her cup.

"There you are. Now settle down and don't worry about Aunt Ellie. Emily can go up and see if she's all right."

"But it's my job to do that, Mrs. Gilderstein." "Oh dear, how mundane that sounds! Let's forget about jobs for the moment. I was telling Dominic about
your lovely voice. Won't you sing something for us after
coffee? Something light and simple."

Suddenly Barbara was convinced that Gina had never
heard her sing at all and was hoping she would make a fool of herself. But she refused to be drawn so easily. "I haven't sung for over six months, Mrs. Gilderstein, and I don't know whether it would be advisable for me to do so."

"But surely one little song wouldn't hurt you, would it?"

"Perhaps Barbara hasn't the sort of voice that sounds well without a microphone," Rockwood put in.

Secretly furious, Barbara stood up. "Can you play
well enough to accompany me?" she asked Gina with
careful naivety.

The woman bridled. "But of course. Didn't you know that one of my assets is that I can always accompany myself on the stage?"

The two women moved over to the piano and Rock
wood settled himself back in his chair and lit a cigarette with a quizzical expression on his face.

Barbara rummaged through the pile of music in the brocade-covered music stool while Gina kept making
ridiculous suggestions that she sing one of the many Edwardian music-hall songs they found amongst them. But at the bottom of the cabinet there was an album of Schubert and Barbara thumbed through it until she came to the one she wanted.

"I'll sing this—if you can play it."

Gina glanced down at the song and then looked up in quick surprise. " 'Gretchen at the Spinning Wheel'? Are you sure? I mean if you haven't sung for so long it's pretty arduous."

"I'm quite sure, thank you," she replied, not without secret trepidation.

As soon as she started to sing Barbara forgot her
nervousness in the joy of using her voice again. Quietly
at first, the pure cadences of sound floated out into
the room, swelling as the song gained in passion and
intensity, describing the misery of the deserted woman
sitting at her spinning wheel haunted by the vision of the man she loved. No longer was she Barbara Mans
field, the paid companion of an ailing old woman, but
Gretchen, crying out against Fate for her lover, the apotheosis of all lonely women bereft of love. As the
song gathered momentum her voice rang out, attaining
every note with easy fluidity until it reached the climax
of the cry: "And O! his kiss!" But it was not until she had reiterated the hopeless refrain and her voice died away on the last notes that she became aware that Rockwood's chair was empty.

The sudden stillness of the room smote her as Gina
stopped playing, and she turned blindly away from the piano,

"You have a lovely voice, my dear." The woman got up and took a cigarette from a box on the mantelpiece. "Mr. Rockwood evidently didn't think so," Barbara said dully.

"Because he left the room? But, my dear, what else did you expect him to do?" Gina looked up at the portrait. "Didn't you know that 'Gretchen at the Spinning Wheel' was his mother's favourite song?"

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

SLOWLY Aunt Ellie began to get stronger and as her strength returned Barbara's restlessness increased. How
much longer would it be before someone came to take
her place; how much longer would she have to endure
Crags' Height under these conditions?

Gina settled down easily and after the first week
started to exercise her authority over Emily and Blod
wyn. Although the elderly housekeeper did not take
kindly to being ordered about by a strange woman, the
little maid regarded the lovely actress with as much awe as any stage-struck teenager in London. Once or
twice Gina tried to suggest that Barbara take her meals
either in her own room or with Aunt Ellie, but Barbara
pretended not to understand the hint and continued to eat in the dining-room—not because she relished
the idea of seeing Gina flirt with Dominic but because
she had no intention of taking orders from the woman. If Dominic preferred to have his ex-fiancée to himself at meals let him tell his aunt's companion himself and
not delegate the task to someone who had no right to
perform it.

Barbara still performed her task of filling the house
with flowers, although Gina had tried to usurp this job M well, obviously fancying the idea of languidly
going from room to room with sheafs of blooms m her
arms, until Evans refused to allow anyone but Barbara to enter the sacred precincts of his domain. One
morning she was carrying a big bowl of irises into the
drawing-room when Dominic crossed the hall toward
her.

"I'd like to speak to you for a moment, Barbara." "I'll just finish arranging this vase and come into
the study."

At the sight of him her heart started to pound and she had to use all her self-control not to make some
gesture towards him. The agony of living in the same
house and yet having to treat him with the cool im
personality of a stranger was becoming unbearable
and she longed now to reach out and touch him, to feel
the strength of his arms and the warmth of his lips.

To her surprise he followed her into the drawing-
room but she began to arrange the flowers without look
ing at him.

"I've had a letter from one of the agencies," he began. "I thought you might like to know they think
they've found someone suitable for my aunt. They're
sending her up for an interview today and if I like her I'll engage her on the spot."

A sickening sense of finality swept over her.

"Then I shall be able to leave immediately?"

"Provided she's suitable." He glanced at the letter in his hand. "A Miss Clements, age forty-five, experienced as a nursing companion."

Barbara finished arranging the flowers and stepped
back to survey them. "In that case perhaps you'll let me know as soon as you've seen her whether or not
she's starting right away. I presume you've told her to
have her luggage sent on if she decides to stay?"

"Yes, although when I spoke to her over the tele
phone just now she said she'd bring it all with her.
Apparently thinks it'd be safer."

'I hope you find her the right type."

"You're very eager to go, aren't you?" he said abruptly.

She forced herself to meet his gaze. "Yes, I am. I want to get back to my singing.' '

"You should. It's a pity to waste such a beautiful voice."

She flushed with pleasure for it was the first time
he had referred to her song of the other night. "Thank
you." She hesitated. "I'm sorry I chose 'Gretchen— I had no idea it was your mother's favourite song."

"My mother's
? Who told you that?"

"Gina. I thought—I thought that was why you left the room."

"The song didn't make me leave the room, Barbara. I left because your voice moved me. You have a great gift which should be developed." His eyes darkened. "And incidentally, Gina has no idea what my mother's favourite song was."

Then it was rather unkind of her to pretend she did."

He shrugged. "Not unkind, merely petty."

She picked up some petals which had fallen to the floor and moved towards the door. "I shall expect to
hear from you as soon as you've decided about Miss
Clements."

He inclined his head and she left the room and went upstairs almost blindly.

Barbara was tidying Aunt Ellie's bedroom after
lunch that day when there was the sound of a car in the
drive, and looking out of the window she saw the ancient village taxi draw up at the front door, and
almost immediately a plump, tweed-clad figure got out.
Miss Clements had arrived.

The front door slammed and she heard voices in the hall. Then there was silence, and she settled down in a chair to read to Aunt Ellie, a sense of guilt mingling with pity for the trusting old woman.

"What are you thinking about, dear?" Aunt Elite asked suddenly.

Barbara started uncomfortably, "I'm just wondering where we left off our reading."

"You looked far more serious than that." The grey head nodded sagely. "There's something on your mind isn't there? What is it?"

With a sudden uprush of fondness, Barbara moved
impulsively over the bed and knelt beside the old woman. "I'm afraid I've got to tell you something you
won't like, Aunt Ellie—I've asked Dominic to find you another companion because I want to leave." She raised
her hand to check the old woman's interruption. "But I promise I won't go unless you like the person who's taking my place."

"Oh, Barbara! I don't think I could bear to be
looked after by anyone else. I've loved having you here.
Before Gina came I'd hoped you might help Dominic find some happiness. She won't help him, and I'm sure
you
could. Do you really have to go?"

"I'm afraid so, Aunt Ellie dear. I love Dominic an I can't stay and watch him destroy his chance of happiness. I know all about his mother " The old lad drew back, but Barbara went on quickly: "Yes, I know the truth about Mrs. Rockwood. One can't keep a secret like that for ever, you know."

"Is that why you won't marry him?"

"I'd marry him tomorrow if he'd have me."

"Does Dominic know?"

"Yes, but he doesn't want mc." Her lips trembled. "I think—in fact I'm almost sure—he's going to marry Gina."

"Poor Dominic." Aunt Ellie shook her head. "Poor unhappy boy. I'm glad you know about Margaret, though. That's why Dominic's so careful with me. For a long time you must have thought him very harsh, but it's only because he blames mc about his poor mother."

"I didn't think you knew that."

"You thought I was too silly? I'm not, you know,
except when I have one of my bad days." She paused.
"Dominic's afraid of going the same way—when he looks at me he thinks he's seeing his own future. That's why I don't take any notice of his rudeness to me." She pushed a wisp of hair out of her eyes and struggled to sit up. "By the way, who was that arriving just now?"

"A woman from one of the employment agencies. Dominic must be interviewing her now."

"So soon? I didn't realize you'd be going immediately." Aunt Ellie took Barbara's hand in hers.

"I may not be," Barbara said cheerfully. "I've promised you I won't go unless you like her."

The old lady looked apprehensively towards the door. "I wonder what she's like. Go downstairs and see if you can catch a glimpse of her, Barbara. This is rather exciting — just like a conspiracy!" She chuckled gleefully. "You'll be able to come here for holidays, Barbara. I shall get Dominic to ask you."

Barbara turned away with a sigh. Poor Aunt Ellie, so
sympathetic and understanding one minute yet so
forgetful and childish the next. But she was saved from
having to go downstairs to see Miss Clements, for
Rockwood came upstairs with her almost immediately.
Barbara instantly trusted the short, plump woman whose personality matched her serviceable brogues and tweeds, liking the round face with its determined
jaw and kindly eyes, and feeling she could safely leave
Aunt Ellie in this woman's capable hands.

It was strange to have another woman at the dinner
table that night, and Miss Clements' sturdy figure in a
plain navy serge dress contrasted oddly with Gina's
svelte
glamour. The latter seemed rather put out by
the determined-looking woman opposite who answered
all her questions with an easy good humour that
divulged nothing of any importance, and Barbara won
dered how long Miss Dements would remain when Gina controlled the household.

Rockwood leaned forward and took a roll from the bread basket.

"I've told Miss Clements you'll stay for a couple of days to help her get into the routine, Barbara. Will that be convenient for you?"

"Perfectly, thanks."

"Good. I expect you'll be able to go by Friday."

"Thank you," she said evenly, and went on with the
pretence of eating.