Dragon's Lair (23 page)

She knew a moment's anxiety as she wondered whether he would

decide the tactful thing would be to take his leave. There was no

way she could get out of the kitchen and into the back of the

Landrover without everyone being quite well aware what she was

up to, and she could hardly follow him out on some pretext either.

Thanks to Gethyn, she was suddenly the centre of some rather

unwelcome attention. He had done it deliberately, of course,

prompted by her own comment about her reluctance to leave.

She drank the rest of her coffee very slowly, trying to appear

unconcerned. Perhaps he was really convinced that she had meant

it, that she was willing to resume an intimate relationship with him

on any terms. Or was he simply trying to goad her into another

piece of self-betrayal? Well, this time it just wouldn't work!

When her coffee was finished, she excused herself quietly and left

the room. She wandered through the hall, glancing into the sitting

room on her way and exchanging smiling greetings with the

Fentons, and refusing Timothy's eager offer of a game of Ludo.

'I've eaten too big a meal,' she said, patting her stomach ruefully. 'I

think I ought to take a stroll and work some of it off.'

Tim accompanied her to the front door. It-was clear he was only

waiting for the slightest hint of an invitation, and he would have

accompanied her, and she felt mean at denying him. He was a nice

kid, and the Fentons were going home tomorrow. As she would be

herself, she was forced to remind herself.

'Have you walked up to the waterfall yet, Mrs Lloyd?' he asked

rather wistfully. And when she nodded, 'Did you find the cave—and

the dragon?'

Davina smiled. 'The cave, certainly, but the dragon seemed to be

out.'

'Do you think he exists?' Tim's eyes were fixed eagerly on her face.

'You don't think it's just the wind blowing through a crack in the

rock like Huw Morgan says, do you?'

'No,' she said, her thoughts flicking back to the events of the

afternoon, the menacing shadow that had seemed to follow her as

she fled from Gethyn's anger. 'He's there all right.'

Tim gave a blissful sigh, and she smiled down at him, imagining the

tales he would tell when he got back to school of the dragon that

still crouched inside its lonely mountain.

She pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans and strolled

down the path towards the gate. The goat pricked up her ears as she

went past, and Davina gave her a brief scratch on the head,

maintaining a wary distance in case Arabella decided that her

sweater was preferable as a diet to grass.

She paused at the gate as if making up her mind which direction to

take and then turned very casually and began to walk round the

house. She paused in the shadow of one of the outbuildings and

looked across the yard. She could see Mrs Parry in the scullery, but

her head was bent and she was oblivious to anything that might be

taking place outside as she concentrated on the washing up, so

Davina seized her chance. She was across the yard like lightning

and swung herself with little effort into the back of the Landrover.

She resolutely closed her nostrils to the multifarious odours that

assailed them and crouched down. There were a few empty sacks

as well, that were dry and not too dirty, although she had her

suspicions about their previous contents. But she could not afford to

be too choosy, she told herself, arranging them on the floor under

the tarpaulin, and then crawling under it herself.

She had no idea how long she remained there in the noisome

darkness which managed in some strange way to be both chilly and

stifling, at the same time. She only knew she was on the point of

admitting defeat and going back to the house when dimly in the

distance she heard the back door opening and the sound of voices

approaching. Her heart sank and she tensed instinctively as she

recognised Gethyn's resonant, drawling tones. Oh, why did it have

to be him of all people come to see Huw off the premises? She

strained her ears trying to hear what they were saying, but it was

impossible. She made herself as small as possible under the

sheltering tarpaulin and held her breath. Even so when something

bulky descended on top of her with considerable force she was hard

put to it not to cry out in alarm. At least it was nothing human, she

tried to console herself ruefully as she tried to cope with this new

discomfort.

She heard Huw give a quick shout of laughter, then the vehicle

rocked as he climbed into the driving seat. She lay very still, every

nerve stretched to screaming point, waiting for the engine to start.

When at last they began to move forward amid shouted goodnights,

she could have wept with relief. For good or ill, she was on her

way, and she would never see Gethyn again. Pain that had nothing

to do with cold or cramp lashed at her, and she crushed it down

relentlessly. She had to forget about him now. Anything else was

utterly unthinkable. There was no future for them, and there never

had been, and that was a fact she should have learned by now.

Certainly he had had no compunction in teaching it to her. She

could not exist merely to satisfy a transient fancy.

The next few minutes were pure anguish as the Land-rover jolted its

way up the track. Davina felt as if every bone in her body was

breaking. She closed her eyes and bit her lip hard as the wheels

went over every new rut and pothole. And it seemed to go on for

ever. Surely they would be at the road soon? She would liked to

have taken a cautious peep out, but did not dare. If Huw found her

before they arrived at the Morgans' farm, he might feel it incumbent

on him to drive her back to Plas Gwyn.

She was almost at screaming point when the Landrover suddenly

stopped. For a moment she stretched herself involuntarily, then

froze. They hadn't reached the road yet; she knew they hadn't. So

why had they stopped? Had Huw divined somehow that she was

there? Or more prosaically, but even more disastrously, had this

blighted vehicle simply given up the ghost in some way?

She shrank as she realised Huw was getting out of the driver's seat.

She heard stones and pebbles clatter as he walked round the

Landrover to the back. She made herself keep perfectly still as the

bulky weight, whatever it had been, was hauled off her, and she

heard his footsteps receding.

She waited for a few moments, then very cautiously pushed the

tarpaulin off and looked around her. She realised incredulously that

she must have been crouched in the back for several hours, because

it was now twilight. The Land-rover was parked in front of a

building of some sort. The door stood open and lamplight was

flooding out reassuringly. Davina got painfully on to her knees and

gave the house a closer look. It wasn't a very large place. She had

imagined the Morgans' farmhouse would be considerably more

opulent, but as her eyes accustomed themselves to the new light,

she could see that another much larger building, stood nearby, and

somewhere, close at hand, she could hear the sound of running

water.

One thing was certain. She could not endure another moment under

that tarpaulin, and when she saw Huw and the inevitable

recriminations were over, she would suggest acidly that he cleaned

his Landrover out occasionally. She got stiffly down, brushing dirt

and creases from her clothes, then walked towards the welcoming

lamplight. Somewhere to sit down, she thought longingly, that did

not bump or lurch, threatening to dislocate your spinal column. And

a warm drink. Even if the Morgans were not very pleased to see

her, surely they wouldn't deny her that much at least. She hesitated,

then walked resolutely through the low doorway.

It wasn't a large room, furnished at random, it seemed from a

variety of junk shops. The lamp stood in the centre of a solid

old-fashioned table, and beyond it a wood fire flickered and

crackled on a stone hearth, making the room dance unnervingly

with shadows.

Davina stood looking round her, utterly disconcerted, then one of

the shadows detached itself and came forward into the lamplight

and her next breath caught in her throat.

'Alone at last, Davina,' Gethyn said quite gently, and walked past

her to kick the door shut, closing them in together into this intimacy

of soft flickering light with heart-thudding finality.

He turned and leaned back against the door, his arms folded across

his chest, as if to emphasise that her line of retreat was cut off. His

green eyes seemed to taunt her as they began a lingering

head-to-toe assessment that made her feel hot all over.

. 'I did warn you that you might end up bruised,
cariad,
though this

wasn't altogether what I had in mind,' he said at last.

'Where's Huw?' she demanded huskily.

He lifted a lazy shoulder. 'Back at Plas Gwyn, I suppose, lending

Rhiannon his shoulder to cry on.'

'You're quite heartless, aren't you?' she said hotly. 'Don't you care

about the hurt you've caused that poor child?'

His eyes gleamed appreciatively. 'That "poor child" is very little

younger than you are. And it was inevitable that she was going to

be hurt sooner or later. Besides, she has Huw to pick up the pieces.

I wouldn't be surprised if this wasn't a turning point for them.'

'And you don't even care.'

He shrugged again. 'It's very flattering to be given such

wholehearted devotion, but I always knew I could never live up to

Rhiannon's god-like image of me. Huw's ideal for her, and maybe

she'll get round to realising it now.'

'But you were going to marry her.'

He shook his head. 'I'm married to you, Davina. A fact I've never

forgotten for a minute, even if you have.'

She flung up her head. 'I don't know how you have the gall to say

such a thing,' she said, her voice shaking with anger.

'Because it happens to be the truth.' Anger stirred in his own even

tones.
'Duw,
Davina, haven't I made it clear enough in the past few

days? I'm damned if I'll just agree to a divorce and wave you

goodbye. I want you, and this time I intend to keep you.'

'Against my will?' she asked between her teeth.

He smiled sardonically. 'Tell me that in the morning,' he suggested,

and came away from the door with a purpose about him that set her

pulses pounding. She backed away from him, until the table brought

her up short. Her gaze went all over the room looking for a way

out. But there was none. In the corner, a flight of rather ramshackle

wooden steps led up to the upper storey—but that was the last

direction she wanted to take, she thought, biting at her lower lip

until the blood came.

He halted barely a foot away from her and his eyes were quizzical

as they studied her pale face.

'And now what?' he inquired interestedly. 'Shall we continue this

chase round the room, or shall we sit by the fire in a civilised

manner and drink coffee together? I imagine you could do with

some after that bone-shaking ride of yours.'

She would have liked to have flung the offer haughtily back in his

face, but common sense prevailed, and she nodded awkwardly.

'Go and sit down,' he ordered, giving her a not ungentle push

towards the fire. 'It's only a wooden rocking chair, I'm afraid, but

there are a couple of pillows in the pack over there. You can use

those if you like.'

So that was what he had thrown on top of her, she thought, as she

knelt beside the large bundle and began to unfasten the strap that

held it securely. Not just pillows either, she found, but sheets and

blankets and a quilt. Her face flamed as the implications of this

came home to her. No doubt presently Gethyn would expect her to

help him to make up their marriage bed. Well, she would see him in

hell first! She rescued a pillow and carried it over to the elderly

rocking chair by the fire. Gethyn was busy at a small calor gas

stove in one corner of the room.

She settled herself in the chair, wincing slightly.

'What is this place?'