Dragon's Lair (22 page)

it, if you want.'

'He already did.' Davina held up a detaining hand. 'But I'm afraid it's

no use. Some vital part seems to have vanished.'

'Oh, has it now?' Rhiannon said aggressively. 'And I suppose you

think you've been very clever.'

'Don't be a fool!' Davina's eyes widened impatiently. 'I didn't do it.

As a matter of fact, I'm more keen to get away from here than you

are to see me go. In fact'—she leaned forward making no attempt to

disguise her eagerness—'you could help me, Rhiannon.'

'Why should I want to do that?' Rhiannon was frankly sceptical.

'Because I won't be able to leave here until you do. You can drive,

can't you? You could take me to the nearest station.'

Rhiannon hesitated. 'I can drive—yes.'

'Then will you do it?'

There was a long pause. Davina's hands clenched into nervous fists

at her side as she waited impatiently for the other girl's answer.

Eventually Rhiannon looked up, and Davina saw with a sinking

heart that there had been no lessening of the hostility in her gaze.

"No, I won't,' she said. 'You must think I'm the complete country

bumpkin, Miss Clever-from-London. Do you think I don't know

what you're up to? Not making much headway at the moment, are

you, no matter what you do, so you think you'll do better back on

your own territory. You think that if you take off, Gethyn will come

after you. You want to get him away from Plas Gwyn—away from

me. Well, it won't work!'

Davina groaned inwardly. Rhiannon, she thought wryly, gave her

the credit for being much more devious than she actually was.

'You're utterly wrong,' she said quietly. 'Believe me, it will cause far

less heartache for everyone if I just—go. No one need ever know

you helped me.'

'Well, I don't think I'm wrong.' Rhiannon pushed back her chair and

stood up. 'And I've no intention of helping you. 01\, why did you

have to come here?' she added in a savage undertone. 'He would

have forgotten all about you, if only you'd stayed away.'

Davina bent her head. 'You can't regret my visit any more than I do

myself,' she said. But Rhiannon was plainly not listening and

presently Davina heard the slam of the back door behind her.

She sighed and stared around her. She had never felt more at a loss

in her life. She tried to tell herself that Gethyn's threats were simply

an attempt to punish her—as if she'd not been punished enough, she

thought despairingly—and that having given her a severe fright, he

would let her go. But the argument was unconvincing to say the

least. There had been something implacable about him that

suggested only too strongly that he had meant every word.

She shuddered convulsively. The pitiable thing was that what he

had said was true. Her—ice, for want of a better word, had melted

for him in the past, and she had little doubt, looking back bitterly to

her almost fevered response to him only that morning, that he would

have little difficulty in seducing her to urgent surrender if he chose

to do so. She was ashamed to admit it, yet it was the truth. Pride

might tell her that she could not allow herself to be taken on such

terms, but an older emotion than pride murmured that she might

have very little choice in the matter.

Suddenly the kitchen seemed oppressively warm and she pulled at

the neck of her sweater. She went to the back door and opened it,

hesitating for a moment. She did not want another confrontation

with Rhiannon, but the other girl was nowhere in sight. In fact, the

yard seemed deserted. Even Huw Morgan seemed to have

vanished, the only sign that he was still around being his Landrover

which was parked in the middle of the yard. Davina gave it an

irritable glance as she wandered past. Huw also had an

Unexpectedly stubborn streak under his easy-going exterior, but in

fairness she could understand his motives in wanting her to stay

around. If she was to be reconciled with Gethyn, then he would be

able to step in to console Rhiannon. It was all so simple viewed

from his angle. Davina began to feel like a helpless pawn in a chess

game—a thing to be used for the furtherance of a deeper aim, and

then sacrificed when it was of no further use.

Her temper rose at the thought. What was she doing, allowing them

all to manipulate her like this? For heaven's sake, she had come

here with one aim in view, backed up by the secure life she had

created for herself. Now, in a matter of hours, she had degenerated

into a quivering mass of doubts and fears and inconsistencies as if

she had no life—no personality of her own. And all because of a

man on whom she had already wasted too many tears.

She wasn't a helpless child. She was a woman. All right, so she'd

got herself into a mess, but there was no law which said she had

just to wait demurely for retribution to catch up with her.

She swung round and gave Huw's Landrover another long, hard

look. Then she walked round it and looked into the back. It was not

an inviting proposition. The hard floor was coated with what she

devoutly hoped was mud, and in addition there was a haphazard

jumble of boxes, a coil of rope, two half-filled sacks and what

appeared to be a tarpaulin sheet. Whatever it was, it was big—quite

big enough to cover anyone who might take it into her head to

climb into the back and wait for Huw to drive away.

She glanced warily about her, but the yard was still deserted. The

main difficulty was that she had no idea when Huw was planning to

leave. It was still broad daylight and would remain so for several

hours. Could she hope to remain unnoticed without the shelter of

friendly darkness? She would have to hope that Huw would simply

get in and drive away without checking the rear of the vehicle.

Once they got to the farm, she was sure that Mrs Morgan would

help her, if she appealed to her sympathy.

She wouldn't bother taking her suitcase or any of the clothes she

had brought with her, she decided. They could just be abandoned,

but she would need her briefcase and her handbag. She bit her lip.

She could not risk disappearing too soon, or Gethyn would start

searching for her, but she would fetch her things and stow them

under the tarpaulin. All she would have to do then was keep a

watchful eye on Huw and gauge when he was ready to take his

departure.

She hurried back through the kitchen and up to her room. She took

out the papers relevant to Gethyn's American trip and stuffed them

into the top drawer of the dressing chest. He could find them there

when she had gone, she told herself. Uncle Phil would understand

why she had been unable to bring back a definite answer.

She looked round the room with a smile of satisfaction as she stood

at the door. It still looked thoroughly occupied, and her nightgown

draped across the bed was a really convincing touch, she decided.

Her luck held as she went downstairs. Mrs Parry was standing in

the sitting room, her back towards the door, chatting to the Fentons,

and she did not turn as Davina wandered past with deceptive

casualness, her briefcase concealed rather awkwardly behind her

back. She raced across the deserted kitchen and peeped into the

yard. The Landrover still stood there, and it was the work of a

minute to drop her bag and briefcase into the back of it, and drag

the tarpaulin sheet to cover it. It smelled musty as she tugged at it,

and her lip curled at the thought of having to get underneath it. It

was ludicrous that she had to go to these lengths, she told herself

defiantly, and another item to add to the score she had to settle with

Gethyn.

When Mrs Parry came into the kitchen she was sitting at the table

glancing through the local paper, which she had found lying on a

chair. Fortunately, her hostess was too busy for more than a

perfunctory question about her day, and whether she had enjoyed

her walk. Davina answered casually and Mrs Parry seemed quite

satisfied with this.

The next hour or so was a scramble to serve the evening meal to the

visitors in the dining room. Rhiannon appeared to act as the

waitress as usual, and Davina was left to lay the kitchen table for

the family's own meal. To her secret satisfaction, Mrs Parry called

to her to set an extra place as Huw would be eating with them. If he

stayed at Plas Gwyn until it was dark, it would make things much

easier, she thought, her spirits rising.

The meal that evening was turkey with forcemeat stuffing and all

the trimmings, followed by an apple charlotte with thick cream. In

spite of her nervousness, Davina found that a day spent almost

totally in the fresh air had sharpened her appetite and she did full

justice to the meal, in spite of the fact that Gethyn had appeared just

as they were sitting down and had stationed himself opposite to her.

To her fury she had felt a tinge of colour stain her cheeks as he

pulled out his chair and sat down with a murmured apology to his

aunt for his lateness. His own face gave nothing away, she thought,

studying him covertly under her lashes as he talked to Huw. But

there was an air of certainty about him tonight that galled her

almost unbearably. It gave her immense satisfaction to imagine his

feelings when he realised she had eluded him after all.

For a moment she wondered what she would do if he took the

course of action that Rhiannon had suggested and pursued her to

London, but she told herself she had little to fear. In London, she

had her family to protect her. Besides, she thought he would be

reluctant to give anyone the impression that her actions were

important to him. Because they were not, as she knew to her cost.

After all, when she had written to him that last time to tell him their

marriage was over, he had made no move to get her to change her

mind, or even to attempt to see her again to talk things over. He had

been happy to accept her decision then. Perhaps common sense

would prevail with him yet again once her escape was a
fait

accompli.
And he had Rhiannon to console him, after all.

It was frightening how desolate that realisation made her feel. If

only he had once given some sign that he cared for her, how

different things might have been between them. But he cared for no

one and nothing but himself. She had learned that the hard way, and

Rhiannon would have to accept the same lesson.

'Penny for them, Davina.' Huw leaned across the table towards her

as Mrs Parry placed cups of her strong powerful coffee brew before

them. 'You look a bit lost,
bach.
Why don't we all go out for a drink

tonight?' He turned to Gethyn. 'Must keep her entertained, or she

may go skipping off back to London.'

For a horrified moment, Davina thought he was about to spill the

beans about her request for help earlier. Panic forced her into

speech. She even managed a smile.

'Oh, I don't think there's much chance of that.' She deliberately

didn't look at Gethyn. 'Life—life has become much too interesting

just lately.'

And let him make what he likes of that, she thought. No doubt his

vanity would tell him that she was looking forward to bedtime with

eager anticipation. Well, he would soon learn his mistake.

'Well, how about it?' Huw persisted. 'Do you fancy going out

tonight?'

'Count me out,' Rhiannon said immediately, spooning sugar into her

coffee.

'Another time, maybe, Huw.' Gethyn leaned back in his chair, and

Davina was acutely aware that he was watching her intently. 'It's

been a long day and an early night wouldn't come amiss.'

The direction of his gaze and the overt note of lazy amusement in

his voice could have left no one around the table in any doubt of his

intentions, Davina realised furiously. She could see Mrs Parry

looking faintly surprised, but gratified nonetheless.

'Oh well, if that's the way of it,' Huw grinned. 'Sure you won't

change your mind, Rhiannon?'

'Quite sure.' Rhiannon's chair scraped deafeningly across the floor

as she got up, a bright spot of colour in either cheek. Davina felt

real compassion for the girl. She looked totally stunned. She saw

Huw's hand go out to her for a second, then fall to his side as if he

recognised that this was not the moment.