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Authors: Sara Craven,Mineko Yamada

Tags: #Comics & Graphic Novels, #Graphic Novels, #Romance

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BOOK: HIGH TIDE AT MIDNIGHT
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dark.'

His voice deepened, became almost menacing. 'I want you out of here,

Morwenna, and I want you out soon. For that reason and that reason only I'm

prepared to accede to your—request, and pay whatever fees for you this man

in Carcassonne is asking. It'll be worth it to get you off my back. But there is

a condition.' He bent down and took her arm, yanking her up on to her feet.

She gasped and pulled away from him.

'Don't touch me! Don't dare to touch me. Not now, or ever.'

He laughed. 'You flatter yourself, my scheming little witch.' Insolently he

pulled the concealing folds of the housecoat around her and tied its sash

tightly. 'There, sweetheart. Does that reassure you? Though you have

nothing to worry about, I promise. If you climbed into my bed stark naked,

I'd still turn away. Understood?'

Morwenna burned with humiliation at his touch and his words. Blindly she

swung round and headed to the door. His hand caught her shoulder,

compelling her to halt, and turning her to face him again.

'Don't be in such a hurry,' he said. 'You haven't heard my terms yet. You can

go to Carcassonne at my expense on condition you forget all about that old

business over the
Lady Laura.
I want Nick to have some peace and

happiness in his life, which he won't have with you endlessly needling him

to discover what if anything really happened all those years ago. It's not

important, and you're going to promise me now not to go on with it.'

'I can't promise,' she said very quietly. 'I wish I could, believe me…'

'Believe you?' He was looking at her as if he had never really seen her

before. 'Under the circumstances, that's— almost amusing. So be it, then,

you've had your chance.'

He almost flung her away from him and she went towards the door,

stumbling a little over the long folds of the housecoat.

She went up the stairs as if the devil was after her, but silence was her only

pursuer. Safe in her room, she found herself fumbling for the key and

listening to the reassuring click as it turned in the lock. What had Dominic

once said? That no locked door could keep out a really determined man? She

buried her face in her hands with a little shiver. The locked door, she knew,

was just a gesture to herself. Dominic would not come. She had made certain

of that because she could not face the prospect of his passion without

tenderness Qr respect, but she hadn't bargained for the feeling of blank

despair that overwhelmed her as a result.

She still had her pride, she thought bleakly, but that would be small comfort

in the lonely days and nights that faced her in the future.

CHAPTER NINE

'ARE you out of your mind, girl?' Nick demanded. 'Where do you think

you're going to find to live at this time of the year?' He glared at her. 'Every

hotel will be full. People will be away—or entertaining. There'll be no shops

open —no food, no services. It's madness even to think of leaving.'

Morwenna bent her head. 'I must go,' she reiterated quietly.

'You said you'd spend Christmas here with me,' he went on as if she had not

spoken. 'I'd counted on that—particularly in view of what's happened. You'll

have heard, I suppose, that Barbie will not be dining with us?'

'Yes,' she said unhappily. 'That's one of the reasons I want to leave.

Nick—I'm sure she'd come round if I wasn't here. Then you could talk

together and maybe make everything all right between you. At the moment I

feel a—barrier to any reconciliation. She resents my being here. She resents

me.'

He gave her a piercing glance. 'That's pure conjecture, and you know it,

Morwenna. What makes you think she would change her mind one iota,

even if you were out of the way? Whereas at the moment she can shelter

behind this—alleged ill-health.' He snorted. 'I've never known Barbie ail a

day in her life before.'

'Perhaps she really is ill,' Morwenna suggested gently. 'She must have had a

shock…'

'Then it was long overdue,' he said harshly. 'I was a fool ever to delude

myself that she cared for me sufficiently to tell me the truth. All she cares

about is her own pride. It was the affront to that which got her into this mess

in the first place.'

She sighed, 'Nick—I…' but he held up a peremptory hand.

'No, you listen to me, child. I have too much regard for you to allow you to

rush off into the blue without even knowing whether you will have a roof

over your head. When Christmas is over, if you're still determined to leave,

then I won't stand in your way. I feel responsible for you, Morwenna. In

some ways, you're still a child.'

He saw her wince and laid a placatory hand on her arm. 'Now, I've hurt you

and I never intended to do that.'

'No,' she said, smiling in spite of her white face. 'It's not you, Nick. I was just

remembering something—someone else once said to me.' She paused. 'Very

well, I'll try and do as you ask. I'll stay here with you until Christmas is over.

But you must promise me that you'll let me go in the New Year.'

'If that's what you really want.' His face was also slightly hurt and puzzled

too. 'But I can't pretend I understand this sudden determination to be rid of

us all.'

'No,' she said steadily. 'And it's nothing I can explain either, Nick—dear

Nick, so please don't press me.' Abruptly she changed the subject. 'How is

your hand standing up to all this new work?'

'Better than I expected or hoped,' he told her. 'All these months of exercise

have really paid dividends, though I grumbled enough about them at the

time.'

He was clearly keen to start work again, so Morwenna made an excuse that

she still had some presents to wrap and went along to her own room. It

wasn't true. Everything she had purchased was already wrapped and

labelled. There were the gaily flowered slippers for Inez, and the driving

gloves for Mark. For Nick she had bought a handsome silk* cravat in a

warm paisley pattern. Even Zack had not been forgotten, with a tin of his

favourite tobacco. The gifts had taken almost all the spare cash she had, but

she did not grudge a penny of it. There was only one person missing from

the list. She had found it totally impossible to choose anything for Dominic

and in view of what had passed between them the previous night she was

glad she hadn't chosen out of desperation one of the pens or desk diaries or

other bread and butter presents which had crossed her mind as she shopped.

She had wanted the impossible, she thought. A gift that was impersonal

enough to conceal her feelings and yet satisfied her own inner cravings to

offer him the earth, moon and stars.

But under the circumstances, any attempt on her part to make-him a gift of

any kind would be an embarrassment to them both. All she could hope for

was to behave as unobtrusively as possible over the next few days and then

make her escape before any more harm or any more hurting was done.

She looked up at the portrait of Morwenna Trevennon, who had pursued her

own goal with a single-mindedness that even the prospect of death could not

deter, and felt a slight shiver of apprehension curl down her spine.

She said aloud and almost piteously, 'But I have to run away, you must see

that?'

The painted eyes gazed down at her indifferently, and it was the purest

imagination to think that the wide, generous mouth could compress itself for

an instant in something bordering oh irritation, at exactly the same moment

as an errant draught from the window sent the brocaded curtain billowing

gently into the room.

Morwenna expelled her breath in a long, rather shaken sigh. 'Oh, it's

time—it's more than time that I was away from here,' she said in a low voice,

and turned reluctantly away from the portrait and the strange compulsion of

her namesake's gaze.

It was then she saw the envelope lying on the dressing table. She picked it

up, recognising Vanessa's untidy scrawl instantly. The address was not at all

clear, so it was little wonder that Dominic had assumed it was intended for

the family. She read the brief message pencilled above it. 'Opened in error.

My apologies.' She opened the card and read the words which had helped to

torment her during the rest of that sleepless night. Vanessa couldn't have

know that her piece of idle malice would be seen by anyone but Morwenna,

but she must have realised that Christmas cards were generally public

property and that her message would cause Morwenna some embarrassment

at the very least. Steadily, she tore the card across and took it over and

dropped it on the fire, watching it curl and blacken and become a breath of

ash. She wished the aftermath it had left could be disposed of with equal

ease, but that was impossible.

There was a knock on the door and she started out of her uncomfortable

reverie. Hesitantly she called 'Come in' and knew a sense of relief when

Mark's head came round the door.

'I'm going into Port Vennor,' he said. 'Have you any last- minute shopping

you want to do?'

'Not really,' she shook her head.

'Well, come anyway,' he mouthed. 'I want to talk to you.'

She was not really in the mood for Mark's confidences. She felt all too raw

and bruised herself, but she agreed, finding her coat and winding a long

woollen scarf over her hair and round her neck.

Mark was waiting for her somewhat impatiently, the car engine running,

when she got outside. He drove off almost before she had settled herself.

'What's happened?' she asked apprehensively.

'I don't know.' He gave an uneasy laugh. 'I don't really believe it. I went into

the study this morning just after breakfast to have it out with Dominic and it

was as if he was waiting for me. He was obviously in a filthy temper and I

almost chickened out, I don't mind telling you. I don't know if you've ever

seen Dominic when he's good and mad, but…'

"Yes, I have,' she said. 'What happened?'

'Well, as I said, I could see he was gunning for me about something, so I

thought I'd better get in first. So I told him. I said that I loved Biddy, and that

I always had and always would in spite of his objections which had no

foundation anyway. I told him we were engaged and that it was my right to

have my fiancee and her brother join us for dinner on Christmas Eve as part

of the family.' He shook his head as if it was incredible. 'And he agreed.'

'But that's wonderful!' Morwenna gazed at him with parted lips.

'Yes, it is,' he said rather wryly. 'And I haven't stopped wondering since. I

even told him that she'd refused to come to Trevennon without his invitation

and he said he would drive over there this morning and deliver it in person.

He was still angry. I could sense it simmering away there, just below the

surface, but somehow it wasn't directed at me any more. God, I can hardly

believe it!' He laughed again, but on a note of jubilance.'You'd better.' She

could be happy for him in spite of her own pain.

It was all working out for Mark and that was the way it should be. Biddy

would have no further qualms now that he had learned to stand up to

Dominic and any lingering trepidation that she might feel when she entered

Trevennon the following evening would soon be dispelled by the certainty

of his love and support.

And Dominic would be there with Karen. It was odd how, the previous

night, the thought of Karen and the effect that Dominic's infidelity might

have on her had barely occurred to her. Would Karen ever be able to wear

the same certainty as Biddy, or would she even want to? She and Dominic

were both sophisticated people and each understood what the other would

expect from marriage. Karen wanted Trevennon, that was clear, perhaps in

some twisted way to prove that the Inglis women were not lightly set aside.

To obtain it, she might be prepared to settle for less than his wholehearted

devotion.

So tomorrow night there would be two pairs of lovers to congratulate, while

she and Nick sat like outsiders shut out from the circle of promise and

commitment. Morwenna gave a silent sigh deep within herself. She could

bear it. She would have to for Nick's sake, but could he? He could not

disguise the look of brooding sadness that had been in his eyes over the past

weeks. His work, his hopes for the
Lady Morwenna
had helped, but they had

not been a complete compensation. He and Barbie were apart now and there

was a rift between them that might never be bridged— unless…

Morwenna caught her breath at the possibility that had just occurred to her.

They would stay apart, caught in the trap th£y had made for themselves

unless they were thrown together in spite of themselves. What was to stop

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