Gates of Dawn (8 page)

“
Oh, yes, thank you very much indeed,
”
she assured him, with equal politeness, and realized that it was not his intention to accompany them to Hill Street. He gave the taxi-man their address and tipped him in the lavish fashion which was one of his habits, and then smiled as he waved a farewell hand—the merest suspicion of a twinkle in his eyes, or so Melanie thought, as if he realized that she might have been slightly bored!

And that night, when she went down to dinner—Great-Aunt Amelia having departed from her routine for once—she received a surprise to find him in the dining-room, correctly attired for the evening, and fitting in very well with the handsome Victorian surroundings. For he was occupying the centre of the hearth-rug and leaning an intensely masculine black-clad shoulder against the white marble mantelpiece, and he looked at her with a slight challenge in his eyes.

So this was the reason he had refused Miss Gaythorpe
’
s so pressing invitation to her party! The faint, sarcastic curve to his lips, and the merest hint of curiosity under his black brows as he watched her convinced her that he was wondering what precisely she was thinking.

Dinner with Great-Aunt Amelia was something of an ordeal, for she insisted on several courses being served, and they were impressively brought to table by Fawkes. The table itself groaned under the weight of a mass of silver, and a high-piled mountain of fruit, which nobody ever seemed to touch, so far as Melanie had observed—certainly not great-Aunt Amelia, who pecked like a bird at the tiny portions placed in front of her. The wines, however, were excellent, and Richard sampled them with a suitably grave expression—a sparkling claret and a rich, thick port—and nodded to Fawkes to continue pouring them into the handsome crystal wine-glasses. Afterwards there was coffee and a selection of liqueurs in the drawing-room, with its gilt console tables and its crimson damask, and Great-Aunt Amelia discussed politics with her nephew, and the rise and fall of stocks and shares, and then fell asleep over a game of patience from which she was somewhat sharply aroused by the watchful Fawkes, and more or less ordered upstairs to bed.

Leaning on her stick in the doorway, before she left the room, Great-Aunt Amelia looked rather drowsily at Richard.

“
You won
’
t be late, Richard? You won
’
t keep this child up beyond her usual bed-time?
”

He shook his head and smiled at her.

“
I
’
m going in precisely ten minutes, Aunt. But first I have something to say to Miss Brooks!
”

When she had left the room he crossed to the fireplace and prodded the glowing coals on the hearth. The flames sprang up and illuminated his face, dark and slightly swarthy in that ruddy glare, and burnished the top of his sleek, dark head. Melanie wondered what it was he wanted to talk to her about.

Without turning, and addressing the fire, he asked,
“
Did Noel enjoy herself this afternoon?
”

“
Oh, yes, I
’
m quite sure she did,
”
she answered.

“
And you?
”
He looked round at her obliquely, one eyebrow raised questioningly:
“
I suppose you enjoyed yourself thoroughly, too?
”

“
It—it was very pleasant,
”
she told him, with rather more hesitation.

He regarded her with an inscrutable smile.

“
You don
’
t often visit cinemas, and places like that, do you? Somehow I think you fit in better with a background of rugged moorland, and a ridiculous dog like that
an
imal Potch jumping all over you and devouring you with affection! You look well in tweeds and flat-heeled shoes, but I don
’
t think you find London particularly stimulating. Which reminds me of the thing I wish to discuss with you—the question of your salary!
”

A faint, embarrassed color began to creep up in her cheeks.

“
I imagine you would perhaps consider the same sum as Mrs. Duplessis and I agreed upon when I first went to her.
”

“
And what was that?
”
he asked.

She told him, and he looked almost disdainful.

“
I will double it,
”
he told her.
“
Either you are worth a reasonable recompense to me, or you are not—and I imagine you will be.
”

Melanie felt vaguely that she was being considered as an object of utility and barter, and something inside her rose up in a kind of angry defiance at such an attitude. After all, she had not wished to look after his niece!

“
I would prefer, if you don
’
t mind, to receive a nominal salary, and that was what I received from Mrs. Duplessis. The duties here are no more arduous—they will be no more arduous at the Wold House. And in any case I can
’
t accept more.
”

He looked at her small chin stuck rather noticeably into the air, at her faintly hostile eyes, and he smiled with sudden amusement.

“
Can
’
t you? But if I refuse to offer you less?
”

“
Then I shall have to return to Mrs. Duplessis!
”

He laughed.

“
That
’
s an idle threat, because I would never permit you. But what foolish pride is this? Why can
’
t you feather your nest while you have the opportunity? Nobody knows what the future will bring—and it
’
s as well to be prepared for a rainy day.
”

“
I can always work,
”
she assured him evenly.
“
I shall always be able to keep myself.
”

“
Will you?
”
But he thought that despite the gallant uprightness of her figure, and the calm purpose of her shapely mouth and resolute chin, there was a certain air of fragility about her which had a right to be protected. And with those fawn-like eyes and pale, smooth, oval face it was unlikely that she would find it necessary to work— for long! Scarcely any time at all if he was any judge of a woman
’
s potentialities!
“
Well, it
’
s an unpredic
t
able world,
”
he said;
“
but certainly, in your case, you should have no qualms about the future.
”

They looked at one another for a moment in silence, and she thought that he was regarding her speculatively, and there was a curious little quirk of a smile on his lips. And then suddenly he put out a hand and laid it firmly on her shoulder.

“
All right,
”
he said,
“
you win! But we
’
ll think up a suitable bonus for you when you leave—that is to say, when my niece no longer requires you. And by the look of her at the moment she is going to require you for some time yet!
”

“
She
’
s very far from strong,
”
she said seriously
.
“
I hope Murchester will do her good.
”

“
So do I,
”
soberly.
“
She
had, I
’
m afraid, a bad beginning, and there is a certain inherited weakness there. If Murchester fails we shall have to think of something else. But for the meantime I feel that I can rely upon you to watch her carefully, to do your best to give her confidence, and to let me know if you are not satisfied with her progress. I am anxious to do the best I can for her, for she is after all my brother
’
s child.
”

“
Is she at all like her mother?
”
Melanie questioned him suddenly, without quite understanding why she asked.

He shook his head.

“
No—apart from her fairness. But her mother
’
s coloring was far richer. She—
”
He stared into the fire, something like a shadow creeping over his face, and his voice went curiously flat.
“
Actually someone else resembles her mother much more closely.
”

“
Miss Gaythorpe?
”
Melanie suggested quietly.

“
How did you know?
”

“
Noel told me Miss Gaythorpe is some sort of connection of her mother
’
s, and that she. is rather strikingly like her. That
’
s why I wondered whether Noel is perhaps rather more like her father?
”

“
It
’
s quite possible that she is—in a way,
”
he agreed, but he sounded a trifle curt. He turned from her and strode out into the hall, picked up his light raincoat and threw it over his shoulder.
“
Good night, Miss Brooks. I hope you won
’
t be too lonely at the Wold House. You must let me know if there is anything you want.
”

“
I will,
”
she promised.

“
I shall be visiting you soon—before
Christmas
.
”
Suddenly he held out his hand and she placed hers in it. She suddenly longed intensely to know whether, having fulfilled one obligation this evening, he was now going to taste the reward of virtue by joining the party which contained Miss Gaythorpe. It was early yet—there was plenty of time for him to do so.

He looked down at her slim fingers lying almost confidingly in his hold. He gave them a little squeeze, and lightly caught her other hand as well.

“
The hands of a world
’
s worker!
”
he observed, and looked up at her with a curious blend of laughter and something quite inexplicable in his gaze.
“
I don
’
t want them to toil too hard in my service!
”

That afternoon she might not have existed so far as he was concerned, but this evening she was made all at once most acutely aware that he exercised, when he felt like it, quite a powerful charm. It was in his voice, and his look, and his baffling smile. It was in the faint, attractive odor of pipe tobacco and shaving-cream which clung to him. It was in some way connected with the magnetic contact his fingers were maintaining with her own, and which made her want to snatch hers rather hastily away because she was being overcome by a sort of confusion
...
She even dropped her eyes, when he persisted in looking at her, and saw the white line of his cuff emerging from the effective contrast of his sombre sleeve. His wrists were very brown and strong-looking, and there was a neat wrist-watch encircling the left one, the plain leather strap gripping it closely. The hands of the watch indicated that it was a few minutes to eleven. Eleven o
’
clock was still very early for a man of
his habits.

“
Good night,
”
he repeated gently, giving her fingers another very definite squeeze before
’
he dropped them.
“
My aunt would consider it high time you were in bed. And I
’
m going home to work.
”

“
Oh,
are
you?
”
she said, and was amazed
at her own pleasure because he had told her that.

CHAPTER EIGHT

HE saw them off at the station when they left for the north, and provided them with books and magazines for their journey. Their compartment was first-class, and he had arranged with the dining-car attendant to serve them the first lunch. Mrs. Abbie had gone on ahead of them by two days, taking with her a young under-housemaid, and so far it was possible the house would be in trim for their arrival. They were to take a taxi when they reached the junction at Haveringford, which would convey them the ten or twelve miles to Murchester.

Melanie felt her hand gripped hard when she said goodbye to her employer. He was in one of his least distant moods, his grey eyes warm and encouraging, his voice brisk and cheerful. He had a smile which certainly made up for some of his past neglect for Noel Trenchard, his niece; but Melanie thought that just before the train pulled out the curve of his lips took on the faintest suggestion of a downward droop of envy as he peered into the comfort of their compartment.

“
I almost wish I was coming with you,
”
he said.
“
But I
’
ll see you soon. And in the meantime I hope you
’
ll both behave yourselves!
”

In her last glimpse of him, before the long stream of slowly moving carriages slid away from the platform, he was standing with his hands thrust deep in the pockets of his fawn raincoat, a felt hat pulled rather well down over his eyes, which were no longer—she was almost certain—smiling. And the last he saw of her was a little hat with a tiny upstanding quill at one side of it, and dark curls which bobbed beneath it.

Noel, who stood beside her at the open window, suddenly lifted her gloved hand and waved. Melanie waved, too, but by that time the train was gathering speed and he had turned away and was walking back along the platform.