The Girl From Over the Sea (17 page)

‘
I
’
m really with Dominic,
’
Lesley said repressively,
‘
but now I
’
ve lost him and the twins.
’
She shivered, w
o
ndering
why she suddenly felt so very cold.

‘
The twins are tucking in at the buffet
,’
he said, smiling down at her, and just now his grey eyes were brilliant. Obviously the sweet smell of success was in his nostrils, Lesley thought. She had just heard Dominic say he was the favourite in both the races he had entered.
‘
They
’
re all right. I was with them a moment ago. Now what
w
ould you like? You look cold. You
’
d better have hot coffee
wi
th rum. You
’
re not used to this chilly weather
.’

‘
I
’
ll find the twins. Please don
’
t bother about me,
Mr.
Defontaine
,’
Lesley said repressively.

But he either didn
’
t hear or didn
’
t choose to, still keeping his hand firmly on her arm as he made his
way
through the throng.

Soon they were at the counter, but nowhere near the twins who had evidently bought what they
w
anted and retreated to the back of the marquee.

Lesley was still shivering. She hoped to goodness she wasn
’
t getting the same sort of virus as Rita had had last month. Rita had not seemed her usual self since, though the doctor had pronounced her fit.

Blake tipped some of the rum into the coffee.
‘
Now drink that. I
’
ve put in only half, so it won
’
t make you tipsy. You
’
re not teetotal, are you?
’

‘
I suppose not
,’
she murmured ungraciously,
‘
but I don
’
t care for spirits.
’
Her eyes wandered uneasily.
‘
Dominic will
w
onder where I am
.’

‘
Will he?
’
Blake looked sardonic but made no further comment. He stayed beside her until she had drunk the coffee, laughing at the
w
ay she grimaced as she did so. Next he pushed a Cornish pasty in front of it.
‘
Now eat all of it
,’
he ordered. Then
w
ith a glance at his watch.
‘
I
’
ll have to go now. I
’
m riding in the first race. Don
’
t stay to the end if you still feel cold. If the twins don
’
t want to leave, I
’
ll bring them back with the horse box. There
’
ll be plenty of room for them up in front.
’

‘
But won
’
t you have to bring Sorrel—
Mrs.
Lang back?
’
As soon as it
w
as out, Lesley could have bitten her tongue for asking such a question.

Blake raised an eyebrow.
‘
Dominic will look after her
,’
he said.

He left her then and Lesley realised she hadn
’
t wished him luck. Her eyes followed him thoughtfully. What had he been trying to say just now—that Sorrel had no particular claim on him? Lesley thought that Sorrel would have put it differently, and a snatch of conversation she overheard later bore out that view.

‘
I would have thought young Mis
s
Lang would be the favourite in the ladies
’
race.
’

‘
She
’
s more than that in the Defontaine stakes,
’
the young man grinned down at the girl who had made the first remark.
‘
She
’
s the winner. They
’
re waiting a decent interval of a few months before announcing it, but they
’
re to be married some time in the summer.
’

Lesley moved on. So that was it. They didn
’
t want a formal announcement just yet. Well, they were well matched, both ruthless, unpleasant people. She found them equally hateful and felt even more convinced of the hatefulness of one of them when later in the afternoon Sorrel, who rode with the same reckless abandon as she drove her big car, was thrown at the second fence. Lesley didn
’
t see what had happened, but when she heard that it was one of the Trevendone horses which had fallen she hurried round the course and was in time to see the St John Ambulance men carrying the stretcher into the first aid tent. Even now she wasn
’
t sure whether the rider was Sorrel or Jennifer. By the time she had pushed her way through the crowds several minutes had elapsed, but eventually she reached the first aid tent and pushed back the flap.

It was Sorrel who had fallen, but she was already sitting up pushing her long black hair away from her face. The St John Ambulance attendants had stepped back and beside Sorrel were two men in riding clothes, Blake and Dominic, one on either side.

Lesley stood silently just inside the tent wondering how she could retreat before anyone saw her. Sorrel would welcome no solicitude or offer of help from her, particularly while she had Blake standing beside her and Dominic bending over her.

And then Sorrel
’
s voice rang out in irritation.
‘
Dominic, for the last time will you stop fussing, and go away. You get
on my nerves!
’

She pushed the young man from her and then, struggling to her feet, she seemed to melt into the other man
’
s arms.
‘
Oh,
Blake darling, I
’
m all right. I really am
.’

Lesley shrank back against the canvas as Dominic turned and strode towards the tent flap. She didn
’
t want him to see her, but she really needn
’
t have worried, for he walked like a blind man, his face stricken.

Lesley followed him out silently. Poor Dominic!

Although she had lost all interest in the meeting, Lesley stayed to the end and collected the twins in the Mini when most other people were leaving. Sorrel, apparently none the worse for her fall, was with Blake and presumably would return with him.

Ricky was in high spirits and began recounting his winnings as Lesley put the Mini in gear and turned for home.
‘
Blake gave us some tips and I
’
d the gumption to follow them
,’
he said jubilantly.
‘
Rita was silly enough to back Sorrel in the Ladies
’
Plate and that didn
’
t do her much good. How did you make out, Les?
’

‘
Badly
,’
she said with a wry grin.
‘
I stuck pins in and the pins didn
’
t seem to know about winners.
’

‘
Didn
’
t you even back Blake?
’
he asked incredulously.
‘
He was a cert in both his races
.’

‘
So it would seem!
’
And then in a surprised voice,
‘
When did he give you those tips?
’

‘
At the lunch counter. He stood us our lunch—a jolly good one, didn
’
t he, Rita?
’

‘
And it nearly choked me
,’
Rita said morosely.

Ricky laughed uproariously.
‘
You gave the best exhibition of choiring I
’
ve ever seen
,’
he remarked.
‘
You didn
’
t leave a crumb
.’

Rita
’
s lips twitched into a smile, but she shrugged,
‘
Well, he
’
s a bighead all the same. Fancy tipping himself to win and saying he
’
d got two exceptional horses just to tone his conceit down, as it were. And then saying he didn
’
t think Sorrel would pull it off and that we ought to back that Griselda Knowles on Honeycombe.
’

‘
Well, if you
’
d accepted his advice you
’
d be a pound or two better off
,’
Rick pointed out.
‘
After all, he
did
win, and that Griselda too. She
’
s a far better rider than Sorrel. You could tell that even before Sorrel came off
.’

That started a mangle to which Lesley only half-listened. She was surprised that Blake had approached the twins and
s
he wasn
’
t sure what was behind it. She smiled wryly. One thing seemed almost inevitable. Everybody at the Manor had been anxious for trophies to be brought back and the person who was bringing back two was not one of the Trevendones but Blake Defontaine.

Did he ever lose? she wondered. Tonight he would return with the trophies and the girl, while Dominic who had told someone in her hearing that he would be an
‘
also ran
‘
had been exactly that. And Sorrel had dismissed him and said that Ire got on her nerves.

And so on a sunny March morning just a month after she had started work in this small office, Lesley stood by the window looking out but not really seeing the green lawns nor the daffodils that had
‘
taken the winds of March with beauty
’
.

She was remembering the weeks that had passed and wondering what Blake would say when he came to tell her whether she was to go or to stay.

She knew perfectly well that when she had started work that day in
F
ebruary he had been suspicious of her motives and sceptical of her ability. He had never once tried to make any task easier for her. The notes she had had to type for him wore technical in the extreme and his handwriting was atrocious. Whenever, in the first day or two, she had had to refer to him he had been either curt or sarcastic, but gradually as she became accustomed to the terms and to the writing she had been able to work alone. She was a swift and accurate typist and though he had never given her a word of praise, neither had there been any complaints.

The hotel would not open till Easter, but with the tutoring she had received from little
Mrs.
Thomas she believed she could cope with that. So now it was for the slave-master himself to decide whether she
w
as to stay.

As he came sauntering into the little office she turned, feeling almost guilty that she wasn
’
t working. But she had finished the last batch of notes and the hotel clerical work at the moment
was
minimal. All rooms were completely booked for the high season, so she had little to do except type the occasional letter accepting a booking for a late season holiday or answer the telephone to say that no accommodation was available.

He was carrying a sheaf of papers which, he placed on her desk and then stared at her with his usual craggy expression.
‘
I can guess what you
’
re going to say
,’
he remarked in a quiet voice.
‘
The month of trial is up. Well?
’

Lesley faced him, her hands behind her back so that he should not see them trembling. As usual he was forcing her to speak first, make a fool of herself, possibly, and then he would devastate her with a few sarcastic words.

‘
I
’
m willing to go on working here
,’
she stammered,
‘
at least until the hotel closes at the beginning of October
.’