HIGH TIDE AT MIDNIGHT (9 page)

making him ill again after all this time.' He halted the car at the main road.

'Now then, you said you were staying with friends.' He gave her an uncertain

look. 'Was that the truth or just a face-saver?'

Morwenna bit her lip. 'I have somewhere to go,' she said shortly. 'I'll get out

here.' She hesitated. 'When I have a permanent address, I'll let you know and

perhaps you could send the pictures on to me.'

'Glad to,' Mark said a shade too heartily. He paused. 'I'm sorry it had to turn

out like this.'

'I'm sorry too,' she said flatly. She found her case and rucksack and stood

watching until the car's tail-lights disappeared back down the lane. Then she

gave a little shiver. She was really on her own now, and somehow she would

have to find her way to St Enna and trust to luck that the friendly Biddy

would put her up for the night.

She stood irresolutely at the bus stop for a few minutes, then shouldered her

rucksack and picked up her case. It wasn't warm enough for her to stand

around for too long, and it wasn't that far to St Enna. She would walk.

Or at least it hadn't seemed that far on the bus, if her arms and legs hadn't

already been aching, and the suitcase hadn't seemed to weigh a ton. She

stopped every now and then, transferring the weight of the case from one

hand to the other, flexing her protesting muscles.

Any moment now, she thought pessimistically, the bus would pass her. It

was important to concentrate on minor hardships of this nature, because she

couldn't let herself think about what Mark had just told her. It was too

painful and incredible, and she had all the pain and uncertainty that she

could handle just at the moment. And to think she had worried over Biddy's

warnings about the kind of reception she could expect in Trevennon! She

shook her head bewilderedly. The half hadn't been told to her.

She heard the sound of an engine behind her and tensed, but it wasn't the bus.

It was a car, travelling at a moderate speed. Instinctively, Morwenna

dropped her case at her feet and stuck out her arm. The car went past, but she

saw its brake lights go on, and her heart lifted. The occupants were a couple,

middle-aged and obviously married. The woman wound down the passenger

window. 'How far are you going?'

'Just to St Enna.' Morwenna swallowed. 'I know it isn't far, but I've done

quite a lot of walking today, and my case is getting very heavy.'

'Oh, we can manage that.' She turned to her husband. 'Open the boot,

Ronald.'

He was just about to close the boot again when another car came round the

corner, headlights full on, catching them in the glare. Morwenna closed her

eyes for a moment, dazzled, and when she opened them again, she saw to her

surprise that this car had also stopped just a little way past them. Then she

saw who was walking back towards them, and she wasn't surprised any

longer, just frightened. She grabbed at the startled Ronald's arm and said

urgently, 'Oh, can we go, please?'

But it was too late. 'So there you are.' Dominic Trevennon, his hands thrust

deep into the pockets of a black leather car coat, confronted them. 'And just

where do you think you're off to, young woman?'

She stared at him dazedly for a moment, then: 'As if you cared,' she began

roundly, but he was ignoring her and speaking to Ronald and his staring

wife.

'I'm sorry if this troublesome brat has been bothering you. I'll take her off

your hands and get her home where she belongs.'

His hand fell on her arm and she wrenched herself away furiously. 'Are you

quite mad?'

Her glance fell on Ronald, who, obviously embarrassed, was moving away.

'Oh, please don't go,' she appealed. 'I don't know why he's saying these

things. I don't live with him. He's a stranger to me. You must believe me.'

'Stop behaving like a silly child and get in the car,' Dominic Trevennon said

crisply. 'Just because we had a misunderstanding earlier, you don't have to

make a stubborn scene."

Morwenna had never felt murderous before, but she knew now what it was

like to experience that blind all-encompassing rage.

'How dare you call me a silly child!' she raged. 'You turned me out of your

house and wild horses won't drag me back there!" She saw him turn towards

Ronald and give a slight rueful shrug, as if to imply, 'These youngsters,' and

she could have screamed with anger and frustration.

'He
is
a stranger to me.' She swung desperately towards Mr Ronald, who was

observing these goings on open- mouthed. 'I won't go with him. Why, he

doesn't even know my Christian name,' she added with sudden inspiration.

'Go on—ask him. Ask him what it is and I bet he won't be able to tell you.'

'It seems reasonable,' Ronald mumbled, staring down at his feet. 'Er—do

you know this young lady's name?'

Dominic Trevennon paused and Morwenna met his eyes triumphantly. This,

she thought deliriously, is going to take some explaining, even by the

uncrowned king of Cornwall.

'Her name,' Dominic Trevennon said quietly, 'is Morwenna.'

'But you don't—you can't know!' She-stared at him robbed of her triumph,

her lips trembling suddenly in reaction. 'I didn't tell you. I didn't even tell

Mark, so how can you know?'

It was all over. Ronald was already unloading her luggage from the boot and

shouting with laughter at some murmured remark Dominic had made to him.

She could guess the subject of the joke and her slim body quivered with

humiliation. He came back to her, and his fingers fastened round her arm.

She went with him to his car, her head high. He opened the passenger door

and put her into the front seat without gentleness. As he got in beside her,

she said, her voice shaking with rage, 'You won't get away with this. You're

abducting me. But you won't get away with it, I promise you that. I'll make

you sorry, if it's the last thing I ever do!'

'I'm already sorry,' he said wearily. 'Sorry I ever set eyes on you. I'm taking

you back to Trevennon not because I have the slightest wish to have you

there, but because your clever little ploy with the pictures worked and my

uncle wants to see you.'

'Your uncle? But you said…'

'I know quite well what I said.' He leaned forward and started the car, lifting

his hand in salute as the other car overtook them and disappeared into the

night. 'I never intended that my uncle should know that you existed, let alone

that you had come to the house, but I underestimated you, Miss Kerslake.

You're a bright girl, leaving those pictures behind on my desk so

inadvertently. And you summed Inez up pretty well too.'

'I'm sorry.' Morwenna pressed a hand against her aching forehead, as he

turned the car back towards Trevennon. 'I'm not in your league for cryptic

remarks. What has your housekeeper to do with all this?'

'And I'm not in your league for assumed innocence,' he said grimly. 'Are you

trying to pretend that Inez didn't pick up your resemblance to your

mother—and that when she saw those pictures it wouldn't occur to her who

you were?'

'Frankly I never gave it a thought,' she said tiredly. 'Besides, leaving the

pictures behind was a genuine mistake. I was upset, can you believe? Didn't

Mark tell you…'

'Oh, Mark told me. But then he's still impressionable, easily influenced by

limpid eyes and feminine curves. You must have found him an easy touch.

I'm afraid you'll find me a little more difficult to convince.'

'Fortunately, I don't have to try.' She lifted her head and straightened her

shoulders. 'As I've said, I have no intention of spending any more time under

your roof. I suppose it's too much to hope that you've brought the pictures

with you. If so, you could drop me at the bus stop, and I'll make my own way

from there.'

His lip curled. 'That, my sweet innocent, is what I've been trying to convey

to you. I no longer have your damned pictures. My uncle does, and he wants

to see you.'

Morwenna felt as if she was trying to fight her way out of a maze.

'But I thought that was the last thing you wanted,' she began, but he cut

ruthlessly across her stumbling words.

'Precisely, but as I've been trying to make clear, Inez found the pictures

when she came in to collect your tray and she took them straight upstairs to

Uncle Nick's room.'

'But why should she do that?'

'Meaning you didn't put the idea into her head yourself? Inez is a law unto

herself and always has been. Your mother was a great favourite of hers and

once Inez gives her devotion it's generally for life. It's a pity that in your

mother's case she couldn't have found a more worthy object for her

affections.'

'Damn you,' she said slowly and distinctly.

'I'm sorry.' It was the merest token of an apology. 'But, after* all these years,

to be suddenly faced with the reopening of all these old wounds…' His

hands tightened on the steering wheel as if he wished it had been her neck.

Morwenna made a deliberate attempt to let the tension drain out of her and

leaned back against the seat.

'I'm sorry too,' she said, trying to speak normally. 'If I'd had the slightest idea

of any of this, I would never have come here. You must believe that. I—I

hope that seeing the pictures—being reminded of my mother

hasn't—worsened your uncle's condition.'

'Fortunately, no.' His voice was harsh, totally disregarding her tentative

extension of the olive branch. 'But of course he wants to see you.'

There was a long silence, then she said, 'Please—no. I'd rather not.'

'Why not? This is what you wanted, isn't it? What you came all these miles

to achieve? You can't just expect to back out because the going's got rough.'

'But then I didn't know,' she began haltingly, her eyes fixed on the dark face

beside her, willing him to understand.

'And because Mark has filled you in on our family history, that's supposed to

make a difference?' he asked bitingly. 'I'm sorry, Miss Kerslake. This

situation is entirely of your own making. You've tactlessly blundered in and

you're going to have to live with your mistake for a while. If my uncle wants

to see you, then I think you owe him that.'

'Because I happen to be my parents' daughter?' she challenged.

'If that's how you want to read it.'

She looked down at her hands, clasped tightly together in her lap. 'You could

always tell your uncle that you couldn't find me, that I'd disappeared.'

'I could,' he said, 'if I was prepared to lie for you—which I'm not. My uncle

is an elderly man and for some reason of his own he has set his heart on

seeing you for a few minutes. You will indulge that whim.'

She did not speak again until the car drew up on the broad gravel sweep that

fronted the house. Then she said, 'How did you know my name was

Morwenna?'

He looked at her, his mouth twisting sardonically. 'Let's call it an educated

guess,' he said. 'Morwenna is a Trevennon name. It seemed a reasonable bet

that Laura Kerslake would have stolen that too.'

She got out of the car and went blindly ahead of him into the house.

Inez was standing in the hall, her broad face crumpled into lines of anxiety.

As soon as she caught sight of Morwenna, she came forward.

'Oh, Miss Laura's girl! How come I didn't know you, my dear?'

Morwenna found herself clasped against a capacious bosom, her hair being

stroked by a rough but kindly hand.

Behind them Dominic Trevennon said with ice in his voice, 'Save the

transports of delight until later, Inez. And I shall be wanting a word with you

as well.'

Morwenna was released and Inez gave the master of the house a defiant stare

and a sniff.

'T'wasn't right, Mr Dom. Miss Laura's girl coming here, and Mr Nick not

knowing about it.'

'Well, he knows now, thanks to you.' Dominic Trevennon flexed his

shoulders wearily. 'You'd better take her up to him.*'

'She can't see him now. He's asleep. It'll have to be the morning.'

'Asleep?' Dominic Trevennon's face was like thunder. 'It can't wait until

morning. Miss Kerslake will be catching a train back to London in the

morning.'

Inez shrugged. 'Can't be helped. He was getting himself in a proper old state,

so I gave him one of his tablets. Sleeping like a baby he is now.'

He gave her a long, level look. 'I see. So I needn't ask, of course, if you've

got a room ready for Miss Kerslake?'

'No, you needn't,' Inez said severely. 'And she needs it too, by the look of

her, poor maid. Out on her feet she is. You come along with me, my dear.'

Morwenna knew she should have stood her ground, protested, insisted on

being taken to a hotel in Port Vennor, but she was too tired. Besides, it

seemed clear that anyone prepared to argue the toss with Inez would need all