The Girl From Over the Sea (24 page)

CHAPTER IX

Rita was obviously not hurt but rather pale and subdued when Lesley fetched her home in her lunch hour on the following day. Lesley had been on duty at the reception desk all morning and Blake Defontaine hadn
’
t suggested she could take any time off—indeed she hadn
’
t seen him at all this morning. Earlier she had spoken to Rita briefly on the telephone, telling her she would pick her up in the lunch hour. Rita had accepted this with a better grace than Lesley had expected, but now they were together in the Mini, at first the younger girl just refused to say anything at all.

Then all at once in a sullen, monotonous voice she said,
‘
I
’
d got my riding things on, but I was only going to the stables to be with the horses. And then it was Sorrel
...
what she said
...
’

‘
Sorrel?
’
Lesley raised her eyebrows.
‘
But she was going to Plymouth to dinner with
Mr.
Defontaine.
’

‘
I don
’
t know anything about that.
’
Rita
’
s eyes were suddenly furtive, and she gave a silly little snigger and wouldn
’
t look at Lesley.

The older girl
’
s glance was dubious. Rita was often devious, but there seemed no point in lying just now.
‘
What
did
Sorrel say?
’
she enquired.

Rita shrugged pettishly.
‘
She often asks me why I dress up for riding and she says as I
’
m supposed to be one of the owners of the Trevendone estate why don
’
t I take out one of the horses whenever I feel like it. Well, I told her that Dominic
’
s belonged to us just as much as they did to him. So she said they didn
’
t really belong to Dominic any more than anything else did around here. It was all the slave-master
’
s property and if I was set on riding one of the horses why didn
’
t I take the mare out.
’
Rita shivered.
‘
I don
’
t think she meant it, but then she laughed and said I was chicken. That we were all scared of Blake and he had us all where he wanted us—under his thumb. So I said yes, the slave-master, and she said she
’
d tell him we called him that and I said,
“
While you
’
re about it, let him know I
’
ve gone out riding Sheba
.
”

‘
Then she said,
“Wh
y, you daren
’
t even mount her. Come on, I
’
ll help you up.
”
And she got her saddled and held her till I mounted. So if anybody is going to be blamed, Sorrel will have to take her share.
’

Lesley stared at her in a horrified manner.
‘
She couldn
’
t have been so wicked,
’
she protested.

Then Rita burst into hysterical laughter.
‘
Lesley, you
’
ll believe anything,
’
she giggled.

To Lesley
’
s relief there was no sign of Blake or Dominic when they arrived at the old Manor. She quickly got a tray ready and took it up to their bedroom, where Rita was lying lethargically on her own bed. She persuaded the girl to have coffee and a sandwich and quickly ate a sandwich herself as it was almost time for her to go back to the reception desk.

‘
Better stay here for the rest of the afternoon, darling,
’
she advised. The girl still looked very pale and shaken and Lesley was determined to ring the doctor and ask him to call again. She was worried about Rita
’
s hysterical account of what was supposed to have happened last night. Was she perhaps suffering from concussion?

‘
I
’
ll go down to the beach and sunbathe a bit later on,
’
Rita yawned.
‘
Don
’
t fuss, Les, for pete
’
s sake. I just want to keep out of the way for a bit.
’

‘
You
’
ll have to see
Mr.
Defontaine pretty soon and apologise,
’
Lesley said in a worried manner.
‘
You’d
better tell him the truth—about Sorrel, I mean—if it
is
the truth.
’

‘
I
’
m not going around telling tales just to get myself out of trouble,
’
Rita flared,
‘
and don
’
t you mention Sorrel either.
’
Her voice changed.
‘
Les, I do hope the mare isn
’
t badly hurt. She
’
s marvellous to ride and I felt I was part of her, even though I was secretly terrified. The slave-master must be pretty terrific as a rider. He always takes her so easily. I wish she hadn
’
t caught her foot in that hole. I don
’
t think I should have come off if that hadn
’
t happened, though she was trying to throw me all the time.
’

‘
You must have been pretty good yourself to stay on so long. Thank goodness you weren
’
t killed when she did throw you. But how crazy could you get, to take
Mr.
D
efontaine
’
s mare? Why not one of the other horses? Even though as Sorrel says he really owns the lot.
’

‘
Even us,
’
muttered Rita.
‘
Body and soul. The slave-master—I never thought of a better name for him
.’

‘
Rita
—
’
Lesley started nervously and almost looked over her shoulder. The younger girl saw her flinch and jeered,
‘
You
’
ll be crossing your fingers soon, every time his name is
m
entioned. Even Sorrel says you
’
re terrified of him.
’

Lesley went very white.
‘
Sorrel seems to say a lot of things she
’
d be better not to say. But I must go new. Don
’
t go on to the beach. Stay here and rest and I
’
ll try to slip up to see y
ou later in the afternoon.’

‘
Oh, I
’
m all light. Don
’
t fuss
,’
Rita entreated her again. Lesley
went back to the office, a crease between her fine dark brows. She didn
’
t really know how to tackle Rita now. She was ill at ease and awkward with her, feeling she must choose her words after what Dominic had said last night.

Had Sorrel really been there, helping Rita to saddle the mare? If so it was completely criminal. Rita might have been killed.

Lesley rang the doctor and he was reassuring. There was nothing wrong with-the young lady, he assured her, and later, when Lesley managed to slip away from the reception desk for a few minutes, she found no sign of Rita in her room.

‘
I seed her talking to
Mr.
Defontaine in the stable yard half an hour ago
,’
Mrs.
Piper told her, and when Lesley looked apprehensive the housekeeper went on comfortably,
‘
Now,
m
’
dear, don
’
t you be fretting. They seemed to be talking quiet-like, and
Mr.
Defontaine didn
’
t look as if un was taking on as you might say. Quiet, both of un were
.’

It had been too much to hope that he would leave Rita alone for this first day and let her recover from the shock of her fall, thought Lesley indignantly. She didn
’
t see him herself until just before dinner when he came into the hotel office to look through some accounts,

Lesley gave him a glance from under her sweeping lashes. He didn
’
t seem in a good mood and she moistened her dry lips. There was that constricted feeling in her throat that was always there these days when she had to speak to him, but it was cowardly to evade, the issue that he was evidently not going to bring up first.

‘
I
... I .
..
fetched Rita back from Trenewick Farm at lunch time,
Mr.
Defontaine. The farmer,
Mr.
Price, told me you
’
d already been and collected the mare in a horse box.
Has the vet seen her yet? Will she be all right?
’

She was talking rapidly and nervously, giving him no opportunity to comment on her remarks or answer her questions. He swivelled round in his chair.
‘
Shall we take things just a bit more steadily?
’
he suggested, irony in his pewter-dark eyes.
‘
In answer to your last two questions, yes, the vet has seen Sheba and he thinks she
’
ll be all right if the leg is rested for a day or two.
’

‘
Oh, thank goodness for that,
’
Lesley replied, her face clearing.
‘
Mr.
Defontaine, Rita is really very sorry for her prank. I think she has had her lesson and she won
’
t do anything of the sort again.
’

‘
I
’
m quite certain she won
’
t,
’
he replied, a hard gleam in his eyes.
‘
I
’
ve told her she
’
s to come straight back from college for the next fortnight and she
’
s not allowed out once she
’
s back at Trevendone—not for any reason, or with anybody.
’

‘
Oh, but you can
’
t insist on that,
’
Lesley protested.
‘
She
’
s started going down to Penpethic Harbour most evenings with Ricky and when they
’
re down there together, I feel so much happier.
’

‘
I
can
insist on it
...
and I
have,
’
he replied deliberately.
‘
I
’
ve
had a talk with her this afternoon and she had the grace to apologise and accept her punishment. I hope you
’
ll do the same.
’

‘
My punishment?
’
Lesley
’
s green eyes blazed, wilfully misinterpreting his remark.
‘
Am I too confined to the slave quarters for the next fortnight?
’

‘
My dear girl, heroics are very boring,
’
he said with a lash of mockery in his voice.
‘
You seem rather prone to them, and someone should have told you so bac
k
in Australia long
a
g
o.’

She struggled for some remark equally devastating as he sat watching her with his cold, pewter-coloured eyes, but found nothing to say and he went on,
‘
Naturally in your free time you can come and go as you wish. You, after all, are of age, if we agree that eighteen makes one an adult. But Rita, as you said last night, is still a child—at least in law.
’

Lesley breathed in deeply.
‘
I
’
m sorry she apologised,
’
she said recklessly.
‘
She wasn
’
t really to blame so far as I can discover. It was
...’
She paused in some confusion. Rita
had begged her not to mention Sorrel and Lesley herself could scarcely believe that the Cornish girl had been anywhere near the stables last night. But she had gone too far now to draw back, especially with that horrid sarcastic expression on his face and his next hateful words.
‘
So she wasn
’
t to blame! It was
...
who, may I ask? One of our famous Cornish piskies, perhaps?
’