Dragon's Lair (14 page)

the impression this was what this trip was all about—to get things

settled once and for all.'

'Oh, did you?' His smile became satirical. 'Well, you can hardly

blame me for your misconceptions, can you,
cariad?
But I'm not

going to be rushed into any snap decisions, not even to oblige' you.

I don't consider I have any obligations where you're concerned

anyway. I'll give your proposition due consideration—in my own

time.'

Davina compressed her lips in ill-concealed irritation. 'Which

proposition?' she challenged him. 'The American trip—or the other

thing?'

'What a well-turned phrase to describe the demise of our

relationship,' he said mockingly. 'Either, lovely, and I don't think it

will do you any harm to be kept guessing as to which one it

happens to be.'

'I have not come here in order to play childish games,' she said

tightly. 'Last night, you seemed to be in favour of the divorce—and

you've had a chance to sleep on it. I don't see what ...'

'The only thing I slept on last night was the sofa.' The green eyes

were like ice as he shot a glance at her. 'It seemed just like old

times—you in my bed, alone, and myself kept firmly at an

uncomfortable distance.'

'Not always,' she said involuntarily, stung, and could have bitten her

tongue out. She felt the mortified colour rise in her cheeks and

gazed down at her clasped hands in her lap.

The silence seemed endless. Eventually he said very levelly, 'Very

true. I was forgetting. It's good that I'm not a conceited man or I

might fall into the trap of reading some significance into the fact

that you remembered. So it really happened, did it, that night before

I left for the States? I've often thought since that I dreamed it.'

'More like a nightmare,' she flashed, too shaken to consider her

words.

Another silence. Then he said evenly, 'One more crack like

that—just one, sweet wife, and I'll put you out of this car and let

you walk—to the devil, if you want.' He paused, as if waiting for

her to say something, and when she remained silent, he went on,

'You don't have to tell me that you hated yourself in the morning,

Davina. That was one reason why I didn't wake you to say

goodbye. I didn't want to take your recriminations on the plane with

me—like so much excess baggage. Just for one night in your neat,

tidy little life, you came down off your virginal pedestal and

behaved like a real woman, and I knew you'd never forgive either of

us for that. I hoped, of course. I even think I might have prayed at

one point, but I knew all along how it would turn out.' He gave a

sardonic laugh. 'I actually rang you from the airport before I left, but

there was no answer. Where had you gone? Haring round to

Mummy to show her the bruises?'

Her hands clenched together until she thought the knuckles would

crack. 'Yes,' she said at last, 'I did—go round to my mother's house.'

To pack, she thought. To pack a lightweight suitcase with the sort

of clothes that would see her through early fall in the States before

she raced to the airport to seize the first cancellation, if not on his

plane then on the one that followed it. Only when she had arrived at

Creswell Mews, it was to find the doctor's car outside and the

tearful housekeeper vainly trying to telephone her to tell her that her

mother was asking for her. And all her lovely, shining plans had

fallen in fragments about her feet because she knew that she had to

stay, and as the days passed without a phone call or a letter from

him, she began to tell herself that her mother's illness had been

providential because it had. stopped her sacrificing her pride for

nothing. She had been trying to convince herself about this still

when she had fallen downstairs. And after that she had needed

convincing no longer.

The only way she could stop this tide of hurt and remembered pain

was by anger. She clutched at it gratefully.

'What did you expect me to do?' she demanded. 'Sit alone like

faithful Penelope until you deigned to return?'

'Hardly.' Gethyn pulled out to overtake a small truck, his lips tautly

compressed. 'From what I remember, the faithful Penelope actually

wanted her husband back.'

She began to tremble violently. 'Probably because she had

something more than—brutality to look forward to.'

Gethyn gave a harsh laugh. 'Brutality?
Duw,
girl, you don't even

know the meaning of the word! Just be thankful that I have an

appointment in Dolgellau this morning or I might be tempted to stop

this car and give you a practical demonstration of what it really

means.'

She believed him. Her anger had lit the spark of his own and in this

mood he would be capable of anything, she thought fearfully. And

rejected with self-loathing the flicker of excitement that lurked

there, suddenly, under the fear.

'I'm sorry,' she said in a subdued tone. 'I shouldn't have said what I

did. It just proves that there's no point in trying to discuss things

calmly. I—I was a fool to think there ever could be. I should have

obeyed my own instincts and kept away.'

He shrugged, his face cynical. 'I didn't think you would have come

of your own accord. Who persuaded you? Your uncle, or that smart

solicitor you put on my track?'

'Oh.' She sent him a kindling look. 'So you did receive those letters?'

'Indeed I did. They went on the back of the fire,' he said coolly. 'His

instinct seems to have been surer than yours, Davina. When I

deal—if I deal, it won't be through a third party.'

Her heart gave a sudden painful thump. 'If?' she repeated

bewilderedly. 'But last night you said you were planning to

remarry.'

'So I am. But my—future wife is still rather young, so I'm not going

to repeat past mistakes by rushing into marriage before she's ready,'

he said dryly.

She would have liked to have raked her nails down that dark

enigmatic face until she drew blood, but she controlled herself.

'Very wise, I'm sure,' she returned with deliberate insouciance. 'But

are you sure she'll be willing to wait the further three years it will

take for me to divorce you without your consent?'

He shrugged. 'That,
cariad,
is in the lap of the gods. It's a risk I'm

prepared to take, so I advise you not to count any chickens for a

while. As soon as I've reached a decision one way or the other, I

promise you'll be the first to know. But for now, you'll just have to

be patient—that is if you want the right answer.'

'Thank you,' she said between her teeth. 'Has it occurred to you that

I might not have come equipped for a prolonged stay in this

godforsaken place?'

His lip curled. 'You can hardly expect me in the circumstances to be

acquainted with the intimate details of your wardrobe,' he drawled.

'However, it isn't an insurmountable problem. Godforsaken we may

be, although I think our minister at Llanmoel would argue the point

with you, but we haven't been totally deserted by retailers selling

clothes. Naturally, they won't be the sort of thing you're used to, but

none of your friends are likely to see you, and you can always send

them to Oxfam before you go back to London.'

'Thank you again,' she said, quivering with temper. 'But I didn't

come here expecting to have to go on a shopping spree either.'

He raised his eyebrows. 'Short of cash? That's no problem either.

I'm far from penniless and I do still have the legal right to buy your

clothes.'

'I'll see you in hell first!' she burst out passionately.

He smiled. 'Don't panic, Davina,' he advised with infuriating

coolness. 'Just because I'm prepared to buy you a few clothes it

doesn't necessarily mean that I intend to exercise any other

rights—such as removing them at a later stage.' He pointed ahead

down the road. 'We're nearly there, by the way. That great bank of

cloud over there is Cader Idris. You can walk up there from the

town, though I don't recommend it today.'

In a shaking voice she told him what he and the rest of the Welsh

nation could do with Cader Idris. He tutted reprovingly.

'I hope you never use language like that in front of Mummy,' he

observed. 'Shall I teach you to swear in Welsh while you're here?'

She didn't reply, but sat staring rigidly through the windscreen while

he guided the car skilfully through the narrow, teeming streets. The

traffic itself was heavy and there was the additional hazard of

groups of people wandering along the pavements, stepping off into

the road without looking when they found their way blocked.

Gethyn seemed to accept the conditions without comment, so she

guessed they must be typical.

He parked the car near to Eldon Square where the main shops were

situated and gave her a sardonic look as he prepared to get out.

'I advise you to go to Griselda's for your clothes. She's an old

friend, so you can quite safely tell her to send the bills to me. She

can advise you where to go for shoes as well.'

'Thank you.' Davina gave a quick tight smile. 'Have you any other

good advice for me before we part?'

'I have, but I doubt whether you'd take it,' he returned. He looked

her over for a moment in unsmiling silence and then before she

could move his hand had reached out and whipped away the ribbon

that was confining her hair in one swift hard gesture.

'Oh—you -!' She put up a restraining hand as the wind took the hair

which was now tumbling around her shoulders.

'That's more like it,' he said calmly. 'Or more like the picture of you

that I used to carry in my mind—a long time ago. It's a crime to tie

back hair like yours—like defacing some national treasure.'

'Very flattering,' she said curtly. 'But I don't propose to walk round

looking a windblown mess merely to indulge one of your private

fantasies. May I have my ribbon, please?'

'No,' he said pleasantly, 'you may not. And be thankful that I keep

my fantasies private. The last time I saw your hair loose like that, it

was lying across my pillow—and that was for real. So I should

guard your tongue,
cariad
, or you might just provoke me

to—realise my fantasies once again one night.'

He thrust the ribbon into his pocket, then turned on his heel and

walked away, leaving her alone by the car with paling cheeks and

parted lips as the full implication in his words came relentlessly

home to her.

Davina sat gazing at herself bleakly in the mirror. Now that it was

too late, she fully realised the recklessness of the impulse which

had prompted her action, but there could be no going back, she told

herself ruefully, her glance going involuntarily to the floor beside

her chair where the remains of her long hair was being swept up by

a junior assistant.

But she could not complain that the new short style was

unbecoming. The cutting had been skilful, and the feathery tendrils

which had been coaxed across her forehead and cheeks seemed to

accentuate the size of her eyes and the delicacy of her cheekbones.

But there was no gainsaying that she suddenly looked younger, and

that was something she had not intended, she thought unhappily.

She had simply been determined to underline to Gethyn that any

lingering proprietorial interest he might have in her personal

appearance was totally misplaced. Now, it might seem just like a

rather childish act of defiance, and, what was worse, she was

already regretting the loss of her hair. She had acted on impulse,

and the fact that the hairdresser could fit her in at once because of a

cancellation had seemed at the time to confirm the Tightness of her

action. Now she wished she could have been given a breathing

space to think again.

She paid her bill, tipped the assistant who had attended to her with

a forced word of thanks and left the shop. She was glad to discover

that the rain had almost stopped, although a light misty drizzle

seemed still to hang in the air. She took a firmer grip of the parcels

she carried and set out along the pavement.

She had found Griselda's without any difficulty, and had

deliberately passed the shop by, although the cut and quality of the

few items temptingly displayed in the window had almost drawn