Gates of Dawn (12 page)

The message was ironical, as was the backward look which accompanied it, but Melanie answered simply—conscious of feeling rather like a highly inflated balloon which had received a sudden prick,
“
Yes, Mr. Trenchard.
”

And then as he disappeared, airily casual once again—as she had known him on at least two or three occasions since they first became acquainted—and the library door closed firmly behind him, she moved slowly forward towards the stairs and ascended them under the eyes of the watching portraits with that unpleasant, deflated feeling keeping pace with her steps. For, although it was quite absurd, of course, she had so thoroughly enjoyed that short walk up the drive, and the conversation which had preceded it, and now—now only Baxter was permitted to accompany him into the library
!

She quickened her steps and started to run up the stairs, for, after all, she had had the walk, and she must let Noel know her uncle had arrived. And but for Noel
’
s cold— the thought intruded—they would all three be dining downstairs in the dining-room and drinking a toast to the house in champagne!

The next day Richard Trenchard
’
s good humor continued, and he congratulated Melanie on Noel
’
s altered appearance, for her confinement to bed had been rather in the nature of a precautionary measure, and she was able to get up a
nd
join them for breakfast on the first morning that he had breakfast in his own wide-windowed, sun
-
flooded breakfast-room—which had nothing at all to do with the dining-room, and had once been a little oak-panelled parlor, and was conveniently close to the green-baize door to the kitchen.

Although the snow still held fast, the sky on this first morning of his visit was blue and inviting, and Noel
’
s jumper was blue and she wore a very well-cut tweed skirt. Her cheeks were fuller and her eyes clearer and her spun-gold hair hung down her back in two very thick and attractive braids. It was quite remarkable hair, and although she agitated continually to have it cut to a more fashionable length, Melanie hoped her uncle would withhold his sanction, and had tried winding it about her head in a coronet of plaits which suited her young and pensive face.

“
It seems to me,
”
the owner of the house remarked, after studying his niece intently for several seconds after she entered the room,
“
that either Miss Brooks or the Wold House has done you an astonishing amount of good. In which case you can come with me in the car this morning and we
’
ll bring back a load of greenery with which to decorate this place in a suitably festive manner. I see you
’
ve already started on the hall, Miss Brooks, but we
’
ve much more to do than that.
”

She was surprised that he betrayed even so much enthusiasm for a task which she had been secretly certain he would either have held in a kind of abhorrence, or looked upon with condescending amusement so long as somebody else made themselves responsible for it. But upon reflection she decided that it was the sudden acquisition of a really
attractive home, and the fact that he had already issued invitations to certain of his friends to visit it for Christmas, which made him anxious that they should see it at its best.

“
I did the best I could with the branches I could reach,
”
she told him;
“
but the h
o
lly with the finest berries on it needs longer arms than mine. And there are some magnificent laurels, too, and a gorgeous bunch of mistletoe on an old apple tree in the orchard.
”

“
Then we
’
ll straightaway transplant it to somewhere where the unwary will be most likely to find themselves embarrassed by, it,
”
he replied, his eyes twinkling at her rather wickedly across the table.
“
Isn
’
t that the correct thing to do with mistletoe, Miss Brooks?
”

She felt herself flushing faintly under the meaning look in his eyes, and was glad when Noel decided to seize the opportunity to thank him for her birthday present.

“
That
’
s all right, my child,
”
he said, dismissing her thanks carelessly.
“
So long as you don
’
t ever allow him
into my library to chew
up my papers. If he ever does that, b
oth your life and his
will be forfeit!”

Although it was a bright morning it had snowed a great deal during the night and they had to attach chains to the wheels of the car before setting out to penetrate the white and silent lanes. It was a world of infinite beauty, sparkling like fairyland, through which they crawled at a snail
’
s pace, the chains clanking noisily, and Melanie would have been content to lie back against the seat of the car and simply admire it, while Noel, occupying the seat of honor beside her uncle at the wheel, chatted to him for the first time almost without self-consciousness. But there was work to be done, as Richard reminded her when they arrived at a magnificent specimen of holly towering above the deep snow of the drive, and looking as if it had shaken itself free of all but a light powdering of rime. And very soon the back of the car was piled high with the scarlet and green which somehow looked exciting against the contrasting whiteness of the snow, and even the pearl-grey upholstery of the car.

On their way back they passed through the village, with its square-towered church, looking like the subject for a Christmas card. And the white-haired elderly Rector, returning to his Reentry after supervising decorations in the church, espied them and recognized the long grey car as belonging to the brother of Mrs. Duplessis. He smiled and waved a hand at them, and Richard brought the car to a standstill and decided that it might be polite to address a few seasonable words with him, if only for the sake of his sister, who always counted upon the Rector to make up a bridge four when she was giving one of her social evenings.

“
So nice to feel that the owner of the Wold House is now settled amongst us,
”
the Rector observed, obviously meaning it.
“
We shall hope to see more of you, Mr. Trenchard, now that you are no longer living in London.
”

“
As a matter of fact I return to London immediately after Christmas,
”
Richard told him rather bluntly.

“
Oh, do you?
”
There was disappointment on the rather finely drawn face.
“
But such a charming old house—and the gardens, so attractive in the spring. Perhaps you will eventually decide to settle—?
”

“
Perhaps,
”
Richard replied non-committally.

The Rector caught sight of Melanie, in the back of the car, and beamed at her.

“
In the meantime your Miss Melanie will continue, I hope, to help us out with the Women
’
s Institute on Friday nights? She and Mrs. Duplessis have always been so good, and so regular and faithful in their attendance, and their assistance whenever it was needed. Miss Melanie even organized a sale of work for us once, and Mrs. Duplessis is always getting up concerts. At the moment we are trying to raise funds for the new church organ
...
”

He paused tentatively, and Richard said rather brusquely,
“
I
’
ll send you a cheque, Rector, but you must forgive me if I find it impossible to embrace my sister
’
s interests. For one thing, she is not as busy as I am, and for another—our tastes have always lain in a different direction,
”

“
Oh, of course, of course.
”
But the Rector was so pleased at the prospect of a cheque that he was not greatly concerned in which direction their tastes lay.
“
That is most kind—most kind!
”

He again beamed at Melanie, thought what a pretty little thing the young niece was who apparently was not in the best of health, and Richard let in his clutch.

On the way home Richard observed, in an amused tone, over his shoulder to Melanie,
“
So you
’
re a young woman of many interests, Miss Brooks!—and apparently much sought after! I
’
m beginning to realize just how much my sister relinquished when she found the strength to let you go!
”
Melanie decided that he was teasing her, and he certainly gave her a quaint look when he handed her out of the car when they arrived back at the Wold House. With her arms full of prickly holly and a somewhat embarrassed flush in her cheeks she brushed past him into the hall, and one of his dark eyebrows lifted quizzically as he looked after her.

That night they had out the bottle of champagne from the cellar, and even Noel was permitted a small glass, while Mrs. Abbie was called in to the dining-room to join in a toast to the new house. The toast was,
“
To the Wold House! May its walls never look down upon a scene less happy than this one!
”

His eyes seemed to meet Melanie
’
s deliberately and to dwell upon her as he uttered the words, and for a moment she found it almost impossible to meet them. There was for an instant something rather tense and electrical in the atmosphere of the dining-room, and even Noel sensed it as she held her glass aloft. Richard
’
s eyes were positively brilliant tonight, and there was no doubt about it he was in high good humor, and he looked rather more sinisterly handsome than usual as he stood there at the head of his table, inviting them to drink with him.

Melanie, in a deep red dress which seemed to throw a kind of damask bloom over her face, buried her nose in the
ch
ampagne bubbles and inevitably sneezed sharply, which set them all laughing, and the tension was eased. And Richard demanded,
“
What about getting on with the decorations? Everybody lend a hand.
”

He stood on the top of a tall step-ladder and Melanie handed him up branches of holly, and watched him affix the mistletoe to the antique swinging lantern in the hall. He looked down at her, provoking her with his amused eyes as he inquired,
“
Is that what you would consider a strategic position, Miss Brooks?
”

Melanie peered upwards at the virginal white berries framed in their clusters of glossy leaves, and he studied the graceful curve of her rather flower-like white throat, rising out of the square, dark neck of her gown. Her sleek brown head shone more than ever like a polished chestnut beneath the rays of the lantern, and her skin looked creamily pale save where the rather excited pink flush was painted delicately on her cheeks. Her lips were a little parted—and very red and inviting.

“
Is
it?
”
he insisted softly, coming down the ladder, and she turned and met his eyes and backed instinctively, although she could never afterwards, have told why. Except that his intention was plainly written in his eyes, and for some reason she felt suddenly panic-stricken at the idea that he should kiss her—casually, under the mistletoe in the hall. And as he made a slight movement towards her, his eyes suddenly dancing, she backed still farther away from him and came up against one of the tall Jacobean chairs, and it fell with a resounding crash which echoed through the hall.

“
Damn!
”
exclaimed Richard Trenchard, and looked at Melanie ruefully over the fallen chair which he immediately afterwards stooped to restore to the upright position.

Melanie felt the confused blood surge upwards over her face and neck, and she knew that her eyes were confused also.

He said, with a rather odd smile, surveying her.
“
I
’
m afraid that was my fault! You looked like a startled colt just then
—”

Mrs. Abbie came briskly into the hall to let him know that the telephone was ringing in the library, and when he returned from answering it his demeanor appeared to have undergone a complete change, and he was brisk to the point of curtness.

“
I
’
m afraid you
’
ll have to start getting rooms ready, Abbie. Miss Brooks can lend you a hand. Miss Gaythorpe and one or two other friends of mine are at Haveringford Junction, and they appear to be stranded, since no hire car will risk bringing them here. I
’
ll have to get the car out and go and collect them, and if I get stuck in a drift it will be just too bad!
”

But he did not get stuck in a drift—or, at any rate, not for any serious length of time—for just as the church clock chimed twelve delicate strokes at midnight, which seemed to quiver in the icy air, Melanie, who had retired to bed soon after his departure, opened her eyes and caught the sound of his returning car coming up the drive.

She also heard the sound of laughter and voices stabbing the silence of the night like the harsh tinkling of Japanese windmills, and Mrs. Abbie descending the stairs to open the front door and admit gusts of louder laughter which echoed throughout the quiet, serene house where only the solemn ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall had hitherto broken the stillness.

She thought of the fire crackling in the chimney in Miss Gaythorpe
’
s room—the most attractive room in the house, getting all the benefit of the morning sun—which she had assisted Mrs. Abbie by lighting herself. And of its pale peach hangings and quilted bed-head, and the black and peach bathroom adjoining. Brigid would be staggering up the stairs with her luggage, and no doubt it would soon be scattered all over the room, her gossamer underthings and probably a quite startling
neglige
in which she would drift about the corridors in the mornings. Sylvia Gaythorpe was exactly the type of ornamental female who would almost certainly know the value of drifting and looking like something ethereal from another world, especially in a small but ancient and beautifully equipped house whose, owner she undoubtedly had formed an intention of impressing if she could.