Dragon's Lair (21 page)

from anger as from cold.

'Let's get one thing clear, shall we?' Her voice sounded fierce. 'You

have no plans for me, Gethyn. You forfeited that right a long time

ago. I came here to Wales for one reason only, and you know it as

well as I do: to persuade you to divorce me now and not make us

both wait for several more years. That's what I intended, although I

admit I may not have gone the right way about it. But it's what I still

want.'

'You've stated your case.' His tone was flat. 'Now do you want to

hear what I want?'

'No.' She pressed her hands over her ears. 'No, I don't. I can't. If

there's any mercy in you, Gethyn, stop tormenting me and let me

go!'

'Mercy,' he said very evenly, 'was never further from my thoughts.

I'll let you go,
cariad,
but in my own good time, and on my own

terms. You talk about rights. What right had you to come here,

asking me for favours? Did you really imagine all you'd have to do

was smile and ask prettily and I'd fall in with everything you

wanted?' He gave a derisive laugh. 'I suppose I should have known.

That's been the story of your life up to now, hasn't it? Mummy's

spoiled little girl, like a child in a toyshop, fancying everything she

set eyes on and to hell with the consequences. Only sometimes the

consequences are people, Davina, and they don't take kindly to

being discarded when your fancy wanes. If I can teach you that

much at least, perhaps this whole mess will have been worth it.'

'And perhaps not,' she said with a kind of quiet desperation.

'Gethyn, for God's sake, don't make everything worse. Don't leave

us with even more to regret.'

He shook his head mockingly. 'I shall have nothing to regret,

cariad.'

'Not even the hurt you're going to do to the girl you're going to

marry?' She stared at him entreatingly. 'She doesn't want me here

now. If she were to suspect even for a moment that the relationship

between us had—altered in any way ...' She lifted her shoulders in a

helpless shrug. 'I can't believe you want that to happen.'

'Perhaps not,' he said softly. 'But it's something I'll have to risk.'

'Oh, God,' she whispered. 'It's true, isn't it? You don't care, do you?

All that matters is your damaged pride, and the gratification of your

instincts. You've said some hard things to me, Gethyn. I may have

deserved some of them— I don't know. But are you really any

better? You're incapable of normal human decency. You—you're an

animal!'

'Am I now?' He was smiling, but his voice was taut with anger.

'Well, that seemed to suit you well enough once upon a time. I don't

remember you complaining about my animal-like behaviour before I

married you. In fact quite the reverse. Until something or someone

reminded you that you were a respectable middle-class virgin, and

that desire was a dirty word. And then the ice formed.' His mouth

twisted. 'But it melted before, Davina, and it can again. Who

knows? The man who follows me into your bed may even have

cause to thank me.'

She cried out and her hand came up to strike him full across his

dark, jeering face, but he read her intention and his fingers gripped

her wrist like a vice before she could make contact. At the same

time, he gave her arm a brutal jerk so that she stumbled forward,

half falling against him. His eyes glinted down into her white face.

'If you want to play rough, Davina, I'll be happy to accommodate

you, but don't complain if you're the one who ends up bruised.'

He released her almost contemptuously and stood aside to allow her

to precede him up the track. Her legs were shaking under her, but

she managed the ascent somehow, very conscious that he was

following her. At the top he halted her, his hand on her arm. His

teeth gleamed in a sardonic smile.

'I imagine you can find your own way back to Plas Gwyn. I'll see

you there later. Oh, and by the way'—as she turned dully

away—'don't duck and hide, Davina. We're on my territory now,

and I happen to know all the hiding places.'

She collected the shreds of her dignity remaining to her and set off

towards the house. Her willpower faltered at one point and she

could not resist a swift glance back over her shoulder to see if he

was watching her go, but the hillside behind her was empty. Only

the shadow of the great dragon rock remained, stretching out in the

late afternoon sun to cross her path, as if in silent warning.

She felt unutterably weary when she reached the house. She was

thankful Mrs Parry was not hovering to oversee her return, and

hurried across the hall, intending to make.

for the stairs and the comparative safety of her room. But as she got

to the stairs, Huw Morgan emerged from the back of the house

carrying a large flat basket piled high with logs. His brows rose

when he saw Davina.

'Still with us, then,
bach?
That's good news.'

'I'm glad you think so.' She couldn't keep the bite out of her voice,

and he gave an exaggerated wince.

'Someone would seem to have upset you,' he remarked. 'I won't

enquire further.' His gaze sharpened. 'What have you done to your

hair?'

'Had it cut,' she snapped. 'Any objection?'

'Oh, so that's it,' he observed meditatively. He shook his head rather

sadly. 'No, Gethyn wouldn't like that. He wouldn't like it at all.'

'No, he doesn't.' A sudden inspiration had seized her, and she made

herself smile at him, albeit ruefully. 'I—I'm
persona non grata

round here at the moment, and I think the best thing I can do is

make a tactful withdrawal— only ...' She hesitated.

'Only what?' he prompted.

'So silly.' She spread out her hands ingenuously. 'There's something

a teeny bit wrong with the car. It simply wouldn't start earlier, and

things being as they are, I can hardly ask Gethyn to fix it for me. I

don't suppose you ...' She let the words drift away invitingly.

Huw pursed his lips reluctantly. 'Well, I'm no mechanic, but if it's

only a simple thing, I daresay I could manage it. I'll just put these in

the sitting room for Mrs Parry and then I'll be with you.'

Davina could not help a sneaking feeling of triumph as he

accompanied her up to the parking space. By the time Gethyn

returned she could be away and gone. She watched while he tried to

start the engine, but unavailingly. He was frowning as he got out

and raised the bonnet.

'Sure your battery isn't flat, Davina?'

'I don't think so,' she said honestly. 'I—I think it's far more likely to

be some slight mechanical fault.'

He gave an uninformative grunt as he bent over the engine.

Eventually he straightened and shot her a peculiar look. 'Odd kind

of fault,' he remarked. 'Your rotor arm is missing.'

Davina swallowed. 'Is that serious?'

'Well, the car won't start without it,' he returned.

She tried to smile again. 'I wonder what's happened to it?'

'I wonder too.' He gave her a long look. 'You may be
persona non

grata, bach
, but someone wants you to stay around. Sure you

haven't been feeding me a line?'

'Why should I want to do that?' she protested weakly.

He made no reply, but slammed down the bonnet with an air of

finality.

She tried again. 'Is there no way, Huw, that you could just—fix it

up for me, even temporarily, until I can get to a garage?'

'No, Davina. Removing the rotor arm is one of the most effective

ways there are of disabling a car. Da learned to do it during the war

when he was in the R.A.F. It stopped people joyriding on your

petrol, he said.'

There was nothing more to be said. She trailed embarrassedly

beside
him
back to the house, only
thankful
that he was not asking

any probing questions. In the hall, she detained him.

'I suppose you wouldn't give me a lift to the nearest railway station?'

she asked, not troubling to conceal the pleading note in her voice.

'You suppose right.' Huw raised his eyebrows. 'Don't look so

stricken,
bach.
It's one of my rules—never interfere between

husband and wife, and I've already broken it once where you and

Gethyn are concerned.'

'Yes,' she said quietly. She wondered whether Huw had been made

to suffer any repercussions for taking her out that night. It would

not really be fair to expose him to Gethyn's wrath for a second time.

Besides, Huw had problems of his own. She asked herself if he was

aware just, how serious the relationship was between Gethyn and

Rhiannon, but she could not bring herself to ask him outright. If he

did know, it would explain his reluctance to help her get away from

Plas Gwyn. He must be hoping that she would be the wedge to

drive Gethyn and Rhiannon apart.

Huw was watching her. 'Mrs Parry has some tea on the go if you'd

like some.'

'No, thanks. I'm not thirsty.' It wasn't true. She could have drained a

reservoir, but she couldn't face the homely kitchen, and Mrs Parry's

inquisitorial gaze over the teacups.

She closed the bedroom door behind her and leaned against it for a

moment, her eyes closed. The first thing she saw when she opened

them was that the bed was littered with parcels. Gethyn, it seemed,

had been up to her room— his room, she remembered bitterly. She

eyed her morning's purchases with dislike. She'd never particularly

wanted to see any of them again, but at least they would be a

change from her shirtwaister, which had stood up gallantly to the

rough treatment it had received, but was now looking thoroughly

dejected. She glanced at herself in the mirror. In spite of its wilted

state, the dress still conveyed an air of appealing femininity which

she was far from anxious to emphasise just now. Jeans and a

sweater would be far more appropriate for the current state of her

emotions.

She selected a handful of clothing more or less at random, and went

off to the bathroom. There was a heavy bolt on the inside of this

door, and she felt infinitely more secure once it was thrust into

place. As she ran the water into the bath, she kept eyeing the bolt

and wondering how long it would take a really determined man to

break down the door, but at the same time she knew there was no

way she was going to find out. Gethyn, she was sure, would emerge

the winner from any encounter she cared to stage, and she shrank

from the thought of making an ugly scene in front of a houseful of

strangers.

She lay for a long time in the hot water, hoping that it would have

the usual therapeutic effect of relaxing some of the tensions out of

her body. But not this time. She was still wincingly, nerve-bitingly

on edge as she stepped out on to the small bath mat and began to

dry herself on the rather rough towel.

When she was dressed again, she had to admit she was not wholly

dissatisfied with her appearance. The new haircut and the

close-fitting dark clothes made her look very young and emphasised

the delicacy of her bone structure. Normally she would have added

gloss to her lips and a touch of blusher to her pale cheeks, but not

tonight. This time she was aiming for the well-scrubbed, rather

boyish look, she thought ruefully—a ploy of desperation if ever

there was one!

The pony-trekkers had returned, she knew. While she was bathing

and dressing, she had heard various pairs of feet ascending the

stairs and the sound of laughter and voices. So it was no surprise

when she entered the kitchen a little later to find Rhiannon sitting at

the table. She glanced up at Davina's entrance, and her brows drew

together.

'Good God,' she remarked unflatteringly. 'What have you done to

yourself?'

Davina sighed. 'I've changed my image a little,' she returned

equably. 'I should have thought you'd be pleased. You didn't seem

to care for the previous one very much.'

Rhiannon shrugged rudely. 'I don't give a damn what you look like,'

she retorted. 'It's your presence I object to, not your physical

appearance. Does this mean you're staying on?'

Davina was forced to smile unwillingly at the overt note of disgust

in the other girl's voice.

'I'm afraid so,' she acquiesced, sitting down at the table. 'At least

until my car is mended.'

'What's the matter with it?' Rhiannon sat up. 'Huw knows a bit

about cars. He was around here earlier. I'll get him to have a look at