The Dark Stranger (28 page)

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Authors: Sara Seale

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Her eyes widened.


I don

t in the least know what you

re talking about,

she said trying not to sound nervous.

I—I—well, why should I make demands? You give me all I need and I

m grateful.


But not enough, evidently, and I find your gratitude rather humiliating
at times,

he said, a little roughly.

As she sat there looking at him with those curiously spaced eyes which gave her face a look of naive innocence, his control snapped without warning. Her mouth was hurt and a little open, and he suddenly caught her in his arms and forcing her head back, kissed her passionately and without gentleness hard on the lips.


Is this all you want to content you—the careless passion of any man for any woman?

he asked when he released her.

That can easily be arranged so that you don

t have to run to the nearest casual man to gratify a desire I, in my mistaken chivalry, failed to satisfy.

She said nothing, but sat very still while the color rose in a great wave under her delicate skin. He watched her with sardonic amusement and as she still said nothing, he asked:


Well, would you like some more?

She shook her head, rubbing the back of her hand across her bruised lips.


Regard it then as the first instalment of a series for the future. Never misjudge a man so completely, Tina, that you don

t recognize the difference between self-control and lack of desire.

She forced herself to meet his vivid eyes.


I don

t see how I could have known,

she said.

I thought perhaps—well, Belle used to say that I wouldn

t know how to attract a mature man.


Yet you complained to Belle of my shortcomings,

he rapped back harshly.

You gave her a very pretty little idea of our relations knowing full well she

d only laugh.


I

ve never,

said Tina, going a little white,

discussed you with Belle. Once she told me that you weren

t in love with me and I said I knew, and that

s all that ever passed between us. Don

t you see, Craig, that Belle is the sort of woman who somehow knows these things without being told? She talks about girls looking as if they

d been kissed. I suppose when you

re in love you have some quality that gives you away. I don

t know.


And judging by that lack of quality in you as far as I

m concerned, she jumps to conclusions which happen to
be correct. I see,

he said and there was a sudden bitterness in his voice.

She looked at him helplessly. She could not at this moment further embarrass him by telling him that in that respect Belle was wrong. She could not tell him that although he did not love her she was still grateful that she could move him, even to angry passion. Not this way, not this hard Pentreath way of taking and giving nothing in return could unlock the fondness which had gathered so slowly and so timidly in her heart.

II
I

The sun was setting, streaking the sky with rose and gold and angry red. The stillness and the desolation was unbearable.


I

d like to walk,

she said, wanting suddenly to escape from the confinement of the car and his nearness to her.


Very well.

They took the rough track which wound over Tudy Down, walking in silence for some way then, remembering his savage remarks earlier, she said:


About Adwen—did you know he came last night?


Oh, yes,

he replied with grimness.

We saw you, Belle and I from the living room window. You should have remembered how strong the moonlight is, Tina.

She sighed. She knew just how she must have looked to watching eyes.


I suppose Belle tried to make out it was an assignation,

she said wearily.


Curiously enough that was the exact word she used.


But you surely didn

t believe her?


When one is angry enough one is liable to believe anything. Was that very unmistakable and prolonged embrace a necessary part of persuading my cousin to go away
?


He made it a condition, just for devilment, I think. It seemed easier to give in and get rid of him quickly. You shouldn

t blame me, Craig. All Pentreaths bargain and take what they want. It

s less trouble to give in if you have to live with them.


That has a bitter ring.


You

re a bitter family.

They had reached the little stream where so long ago, it seemed now, he had told her that Tremawvan was to be her home, and on the instant she remembered the tenderness in his dark face when he had said so unexpectedly:
Perhaps I want to build a hedge round the cuckoo
...
Suddenly she was weeping, turning her face up to his, uncaring that he should see her tears, uncaring any longer for his anger.


Oh, Craig, what are we making from this foolish union?

she cried.

What can I give you that can possibly make any difference to your life?

They stood on the broken clapper bridge which spanned the stream at its deepest point, and Craig touched her with a hand that was suddenly gentle.


I

m sorry,

he said,

sorry to have brought you to tears with my roughness.


It wasn

t that,

she said.

It was the cuckoo.


The cuckoo?

She pushed the hair back from her forehead with a helpless gesture.


That day in the summer when you brought me here and you told me I could stay. You said perhaps you wanted to build a hedge round the cuckoo to hold fast to the spring.


And that makes you weep?


I suppose I

m crying for a lost assurance,

she said and rubbed away the tears with her knuckles like a child.


Then that

s my fault,

he said quietly.

My upbringing and my way of life has hidden too well the poetry which lies in most of us. I had thought when you were only sixteen you had recognized that. It was what made me want to keep you here.

She remembered those rare moments with him alone and the surprise she had always felt that she could talk to him so easily. Yes, she had known he was different, that despite the hard Pentreath tradition, there was poetry in him, and tenderness, too. He had, she thought, in his own way been as lonely as she.

She made a small involuntary movement towards him, but he was watching the water which flowed with noisy clamor beneath the bridge and when he turned back to her the gentleness had gone from his face.


I was wrong to think you needed time,

he said abruptly.

We

ll be married next month. The date will depend on work at the cannery but I

ll try and arrange it for the twenty-first.

She licked her lips.


Why the twenty-first?

was all she could find to say.


Because it

s the first day of spring,

he replied a shade sardonically.

This time, you see, I

m making sure of building my hedge.

They walked in silence back to the car. The sun had gone now but the sky was still streaked with fading splashes of color and the chill wind of evening blew across the moor. Tina felt very tired. One short month and Belle would be gone and Tina sitting in her place at the foot of Craig

s table. One short month in which to remain Clementina Linden before she became just one of the Pentreath women, guarded but unloved like poor Jessie Pentreath who had built her little temple to have something of her own.

At eighteen, could one know one

s heart so surely, she wondered; was the flowering of affection so simple that one could accept lesser qualities from another? I grew up too fast, she thought, wryly, or not fast enough, and she remembered with sudden clarity that she had been grateful for that last year at school because it would enable her to slip from the adolescent to the adult world without having to cross again that confusing no-man

s land of immaturity. How wrong one could be. There was no frontier to mark the step to womanhood, only the frail bridge of awakening emotions which, without guidance, could bewilder more surely than adolescence
...

Belle and Brownie had already started tea when they got back. Belle, with a quick glance at Tina

s exhausted face, reflected with pleasure that Craig must have had administered a few sharp raps, but she looked less pleased when he announced his news without preliminary and ended by requesting her to make her own plans with no delay.


Are you turning me out?

she asked, wondering what had prompted him to settle so definitely on an early date for the marriage which she had begun to think would not come off.


Hardly,

he replied with polite coolness.

It was under, stood that you remained until Tina was married, but I

m sure you will agree that after that event your presence here would be a little superfluous.


But Brownie will stop on?


Naturally. Tremawvan

s been her home for thirty years.


How nice for Tina,

said Belle spitefully,

I suppose she hasn

t even been consulted.


I scarcely thought the point arose,

said Craig coldly, and Tina, looking across at Brownie, caught her breath quickly.

For the first time since she had known her she saw alarm in the bright little eyes, and the small brown face puckered in a moment of acute distress. Tina jumped up and flung her arms round the bent shoulders.


Of course it doesn

t arise,

she cried.

Why, Brownie

s part of Tremawvan. It wouldn

t be the same without her.

Brownie sat up straight with the sudden dignity she could assume at times.


No, Belle

s right for once in a way,

she said, pushing Tina

s hands away.

Tina should have been consulted, and I for one would think no less of a young bride who wants her home to herself.

Disregarding her stepmother

s mocking gaze, and Craig

s impenetrable blue stare, Tina knelt beside Brownie

s chair and took the swollen hands in hers.


You

d stay for me—if I asked you very humbly, wouldn

t you, Brownie?

she said.

Brownie

s hands suddenly trembled in hers.


I

ve had Pentreath charity all my life,

she answered.

A time comes to repay debts.

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