HIGH TIDE AT MIDNIGHT (10 page)

their wits about them. So she obediently allowed herself to be led away

upstairs to a large room. The sheets and pillowcases on the big carved

bedstead might have been darned, but they were linen and fragrant with

cleanliness. A fire blazed in the hearth, and when she drew back the blankets

it was to find an old-fashioned-looking chiffon nightdress wrapped

somewhat incongruously round a large stone hot water bottle.

Morwenna lifted up the nightdress and stared at it stupidly, then held it

against her cheek. Suddenly and silently, enormous tears began to spill

down her cheeks and there was nothing she could do to prevent them. Inez

was there at once, enveloping her in another warm hug.

'There now, my lover, don't take on so. A good sleep, that's what you need.

Then it will all seem better in the morning.'

But when she was alone, in spite of her bone-weariness, sleep was a long

time in coming. And her last coherent thought before she drifted at last into

an uneasy doze was that everything in the morning might well seem a great

deal worse.

WHEN she awoke, it was to find a pale and watery sunlight filtering in the

room through a gap in the ancient brocade curtains. She lay very still for a

moment, confused, wondering where she was. Then memory came flooding

back and she rolled over on to her stomach with a faint groan. She had slept

the previous night because she was frankly exhausted, but her rest had done

nothing to relax her or clear her mind. She felt as tense as a coiled

watchspring, and the thought of the coming interview with Nick Trevennon

sent her stomach churning.

She sat up in bed and looked around her. Someone had brought up her case

and rucksack, so at least she had a change of clothes to put heart into her.

The bathroom, just a little way down the corridor, was large, old-fashioned

and chilly, its fixtures built for their staying power rather than any transitory

elegance. But the water which gushed with disconcerting thoroughness from

the large brass taps was reassuringly hot, and she lay and soaked for quite a

while.

She still could not understand why Nick Trevennon wanted to see her.

Under the circumstances that Mark had described the previous night, she

would have thought she was the last person in the world he would want to

see and while she could not accept this, she could understand it to a certain

extent. Nor could she imagine what he was going to say to her when they did

meet. She bit her lip. She did not think she could bear any more accusations

against her parents—accusations that she was at the moment totally unable

to refute. Not that she believed one word of them. Perhaps Laura and Robert

Kerslake had hurt the feelings of people close to them by their elopement,

but that was hardly a crime.

Morwenna sighed. If only she hadn't been quite so young, she would have

observed more, perhaps—even been able to form a judgment from what she

remembered of her mother's statements or reticences. As it was, all she

could remember was the tone of utterly affectionate reminiscence, the

weaving of everyday incidents into a fairytale web. But no guilt. She would

have staked her life on that.

She put on a pair of dark green corded jeans and a white sweater with a roll

collar. She brushed her hair thoroughly and left it hanging loose around her

shoulders, acting on an impulse she only barely understood. She hesitated

over disguising some of her pallor with cosmetics, eventually deciding

against this. She had nothing to hide, she told herself defiantly.

It was almost ten o'clock when she descended the stairs. She was very

hungry, but she supposed she was expecting too much to be offered

breakfast. AIL the doors round the hall were closed, and she had no idea

what lay behind any of them with the exception of Dominic Trevennon's

study, and she had no intention of going anywhere near there.

She stood on the bottom step, looking around her uncertainly and totally

unprepared for what happened next. The front door swung open bringing

with it a flood of cold air, and two large dogs came dashing in. They caught

sight of her immediately and began to bark, their ears laid back menacingly.

Morwenna froze where she was, recalling the half-joking warning she had

received the previous evening.

She said placatingly, 'Come on, boy. Good dog.' But her voice sounded high

and unnatural in her own ears and it had no effect whatsoever on the dogs,

except to make them bark all the louder.

Surely someone would hear all the noise and come, Morwenna thought

nervously. She was not normally afraid of dogs, but these seemed

particularly aggressive. And then, through the front door, in the wake of the

dogs, came a girl. She was tall and slim with very dark hair, cleverly cut to

show-off the shape of her head, and she wore camel trousers with a matching

tunic top over a white silk shirt with a casual elegance that made Morwenna

more than usually aware that her own jeans and sweater had seen better

days.

She stopped when she saw Morwenna, her eyes flicking over her with a

surprise she made no effort to conceal. The dogs ran back towards her still

barking and she hushed them impatiently and quite effectively.

'Who are you?' she asked coldly.

It was tempting to reply that it was none of her business, but Morwenna

resisted the temptation. It was too risky an assumption for one thing. The

newcomer seemed quite at home at Trevennon and quite probably had every

right in the world to breeze in as if she owned the place and ask what

questions she pleased. But at the same time, Morwenna thought, she was

damned if she was launching into any more long and detailed explanations

of her presence for yet another complete stranger. The Trevennons could do

that after she had departed, if they so wished.

'I'm Morwenna,' she returned with equal shortness, and was surprised to see

the other girl's head jerk up at the information and find herself subjected to

an even more searching head-to-toe scrutiny.

'Are you trying to be funny?' she asked at last.

'If so, I've made a pretty poor job of it so far,' Morwenna said wearily. 'Are

the dogs safe now?'

They didn't appear particularly safe. True, they were standing quite still and

they were quiet, but as she looked at them, one of them lifted his lip back

from his teeth in an unmistakable snarl.

'They won't hurt you,' the other girl said indifferently. 'They can just sense

that you're frightened and an outsider.'

'Oh, I'm that all right.' Morwenna felt her temper rising. 'That makes the

consensus of opinion round here pretty well unanimous. Now if you'll be

kind enough to direct me to Mr Trevennon's room, I'll accept his

condemnation too and then be on my way.'

'Mr Trevennon?' the other enquired, her well marked brows drawn together

in a swift frown. 'I don't really see what…'

'It's all right, Karen,' Dominic Trevennon's voice broke levelly into the

interchange. 'I'll deal with this.'

He had emerged from his study and was standing there, his hands resting

lightly on his hips. It occurred to Morwenna that this was the first time she

had seen him in broad daylight and her eyes went to him with frank

curiosity. He was wearing a suit today, the pants belted low on his lean hips,

and a white shirt, and she thought that the
formal
clothes seemed somehow

alien on him. Doublet and hose, she thought, and tall Spanish leather boots

and a gold earring in one ear. Then she realised that he was looking back at

her and a hot tide of crimson raced up over her face to the roots of her hair. It

was a stupid reaction, she castigated herself mentally. He could not possibly

have guessed what she was thinking, and if he had, what odds? She would ,

soon be away and gone from this place and it could not be too soon.

'Good morning, Miss Kerslake.' His voice was very smooth, very courteous.

'I hope you slept well. Have you had your breakfast yet?'

'Er—no.' She was furious with herself for stammering. 'I thought I would be

too late…'

He raised a sardonic eyebrow. 'You didn't really imagine we intended to

starve you,-I hope? If you go into the dining room, I'm sure you'll find Inez

has everything ready for you.'

He strolled across the hall and opened one of the doors. Almost reluctantly

Morwenna left her sanctuary on the bottom step and joined him.

'Thank you,' she said without looking at him.

'Wh'en you've had breakfast, Inez will take you up to my uncle,' he added.

'I see.' She moistened her lips. 'How—how is your uncle this morning?'

'He seems well enough. He asked for you as soon as he woke up. I think he

was afraid that I might not have been able to persuade you to come back here

with me.'

Her sweet smile was tinged with acid. 'I'm sure he doesn't realise just how

persuasive you can be,' she said.

'One last thing,' he said softly. 'I'd be grateful if you would keep your

interview with him as brief as possible.'

'Don't worry.' Her own voice was equally quiet. 'I'm just as keen to leave

here as you are to see me go.'

She walked past him into the dining room and heard the door close behind

her with something approaching a slam. But not before she had heard the girl

Karen say in puzzled tones, 'Darling, who on earth ...?'

Darling, Morwenna thought, as she walked to the single place laid at the

large table. That betokened a girl-friend at the very least, maybe even a

fiancee. She tried to remember whether she had seen a ring on the girl's hand

and thought that there had not been one. Not that it mattered. She had not

taken to the undeniably beautiful Karen, and she and Dominic Trevennon

were welcome to each other.

The door opened and Inez bustled in carrying a large tray.

'So there you are, my lover. Come on now, before it gets cold.'

Unlike the dining room which shared the same faded grandeur as the rest of

the house, the breakfast she was served made no concessions to economy. A

large piece of grilled ham was flanked by a pile of fluffy scrambled eggs and

there was an ornate silver rack of toast to follow, accompanied by a choice

of honey or home-made marmalade. Inez hovered around while she was

eating, observing her progress with evident satisfaction.

'That's better,' she remarked as Morwenna laid down her knife and fork.

'You could do with a bit of weight on you. I don't hold with all this old

dieting—not for a moment, I don't.'

Stealing a glance at Inez's own Junoesque proportions, Morwenna thought

wryly that no one would ever have thought otherwise. This morning she

presented a truly amazing spectacle, her ample lines girded in an exotically

flowered overall and her thick greying hair escaping from a hasty bun

contrived at the nape of her neck. She wore a pair of man's slippers on her

feet and an inch or more of pink petticoat hung down below her skirt, yet

Morwenna knew instinctively that no one had ever laughed at these minor

eccentricities and that no one ever would. In spite of her inner turmoil, she

managed a shy response to the other woman's beaming smile as a fresh pot

of coffee was placed beside her.

'It's been a long time since we had a maiden living in the house,' Inez

continued, and Morwenna realised with a pang that she was referring to her

mother.

She bit her lip. 'And I shouldn't be here either,' she said quietly. 'I—I realise

you did what you thought was right, but I wish you hadn't taken, those

paintings up to Mr Trevennon.'

Inez gave an almighty sniff as she began to clear the used dishes. 'And why

not, may I ask? There's too many things been left unsaid in this house that

should have been brought out into the open years back. Grow up with

bitterness and you could carry it to your grave. Why, there's Mr Nick sitting

up in that room of his, grieving for the loss of something that was never his,

and neither chick nor child to call his own. 'Tidn't right.'

Morwenna stared up at her. 'You were fond of my mother?'

The other's rather harsh features softened. 'That I was, and a proper turn it

gave me when I saw her face looking up at me from Mr Dom's desk. Why I

didn't know you the moment you walked in I'll never understand.'

Morwenna forced a smile. 'Perhaps it would have been better if you had.

Then I might just have been ordered off the premises and all this would

never have happened.'

'Well,' Inez prepared to leave the room with her tray, 'mebbe so, mebbe not.

For my part, I think it was all meant, and you can't fight against fate, my

dear.'

As she poured out her coffee, Morwenna reflected that it wasn't a battle with