Peacock's Walk (7 page)

nothing more to give; all emotion had been drained out of her before a lasting link had been formed. It had been a wonderful, exhilarating period in her life while the attraction had lasted, but she had always had the curious feeling that she would have to wake up some time, and the death of her father had been the forerunner of her awakening.

Jenny had never known exactly what her father had thought of Mark. He had always made him very welcome, as indeed he had done to any of Malcolm's friends. All she did know was that if he had not thought him a suitable partner for his daughter, he would have said so, for as kindly as he was, he would not have held his peace on this issue, and Jenny could only assume that he approved of him. This was a point in Mark's favour, for her father had been an astute man. It had since occurred to Jenny to wonder if her father had known of Malcolm's feelings for her, and she had come to the conclusion that he had known, for there was very little that he missed, in spite of his quiet unassuming nature.

With an impatient movement she turned the photograph back to its original position so that the back of the frame was now presented to her, and her gaze swept over the contents of the large desk. It was then that her eye caught a tape that had been left in the centre of the desk, and under it a note. She drew in a breath of sheer exasperation; how stupid of her! She ought to have thought of looking before, but it hadn't occurred to her, and if she had not satisfied her curiosity over the identity

of the subject in the photograph, she wouldn't have found the tape, for two large wire trays for correspondence blocked her view from the front of the desk.

The thought that Mark had known that she would not be able to resist looking at the photograph gave her a few bad moments, but, she argued silently with herself, she would not have bothered to look at it if she hadn't had to use the telephone on his desk—but he wouldn't have thought of that, she told herself bitterly as she picked up the tape and read the instructions on the note that had been placed under it.

The instructions were brief and to the point, and an added postscript told her that he would be back shortly after midday, accompanied by their American guests.

For the rest of that morning Jenny threw herself into her work, refusing to be lulled back into memory lane by that persuasive, smooth voice of Mark's, but her cheeks flamed pink at an added soft reminder of his at the end of the second letter on the tape that she must remind him to have a bottle of Advocaat sent up to his room, and his dry, 'I presume you still have the same preference for it,' made her fingers freeze on the typewriter keys. She was not absolutely sure that he was referring to her, as it did occur to her that he might have originally meant the tape to be transcribed by his personal secretary, although there was no denying that she did prefer the drink he had mentioned.

As her fingers flew over the keys at the start of

another letter, she told herself that 'that was one instruction she would definitely not be carrying out! Mark might be in the habit of entertaining his secretary in his private rooms at his other hotels, but he was in for a disappointment if he hoped for the same arrangement with her.

To think she might have married such a man, she thought indignantly. Tony hadn't been so far off, the mark at that. The man was a womaniser ! The sooner she got out, the better!

When Tony rang her shortly afterwards, telling her that it looked as if he had managed to find a position for Boots at one of the smaller guest houses in Brighton, she felt a surge of relief flow through her. One down and two to go, she thought cheerfully, although it was a great pity that they couldn't all walk out en bloc—not that this happening would cause Mark Chanter any grief—if anything, joy, she thought shrewdly, but it would give her great satisfaction nevertheless.

The American delegates invaded the premises shortly after midday, and Jenny, hearing the by now familiar accents floating up to her office window from the hotel entrance below, felt a glow of pride at the unrestrained comments of their approval of the chosen quarters for their stay while attending the conference.

When she had owned the hotel, it would have been her policy to go down and greet her guests, now, as secretary, she stayed where she was, feeling in an odd way a little relieved that she no longer need play a major role in the business. It was rather

pleasant to sit back and let someone else do the worrying and fussing over the comfort of their guests, and be able to remain a nonentity in the background.

With these thoughts in mind, she was a little nonplussed when Mark strode into the office a few minutes later accompanied by an elderly, plump man, to whom Mark blithely introduced her with a, 'This is Jenny Grange, Silas,' and turning to Jenny, added blandly, `Mr Hawter insisted on meeting you at the earliest opportunity.'

Jenny shook hands with Silas Hawter, and tried hard to look impersonal about it. It was an effort not to snub him, for this was the man who had helped Mark engineer the acquisition of the hotel. That Mark Chanter had had the effrontery to carry out the introduction did not surprise her one bit, but she did wonder why he had bothered.

`A pleasure to meet you,' enthused Mr Hawter, and Jenny fervently wished she could say the same, but in all honesty she could not, but just listened as the jolly, plump man rambled on with the same enthusiasm. 'Mark said you were special—and I can see why,' he remarked as his homely face broke into a wide smile.

Jenny's features froze on this comment, and her furious eyes met Mark's bland ones. 'I'm flattered by Mr Chanter's remarks,' she bit out furiously, unable to remain impersonal any longer. 'And I'm sure he feels the same way about the rest of the staff,' she added waspishly, and coloured as Mark broke in with a swift, 'Now I wouldn't go as far as

to say that,' reply, accompanied by a wicked grin.

When Jenny had managed to disentangle her hand from Mr Hawter's firm shake, she saw with no little consternation a look pass from him to Mark, a look that had conspiracy written all over it, and she longed to shout at them that she hoped they were satisfied with themselves at the way they had hoodwinked her into selling Peacock's Walk to Chanter Enterprises. With a supreme effort she managed to hold her peace. The thing was done now, and no amount of hoping would alter the situation, and the thought of the older staff helped her to reply to Silas Hawter's unexpected invitation to her to join him at dinner that evening, and while she was tempted to find an excuse, the apologetic look he sent Mark as he made the request made Jenny accept without hesitation, if only to show him that her private life was no concern of Mark Chanter's. Whatever delusions Silas Hawter was suffering from regarding the exact relationship between her and Mark would soon be put to rights after a little chat over the dinner table.

A little before eight that evening, Jenny made her way to the hotel restaurant for her dinner date with Silas Hawter. Wearing an off-the-shoulder green velvet gown that highlighted her fair hair and brought out the green lights in her eyes, she threaded her way past the other diners, towards the table at the end of the room that had been reserved for her host.

It was with no little appreciation that she observed the frankly admiring looks she received from

the occupants of the other tables. She had wanted to look her best and had gone to some pains to achieve the resultant effect, and now felt quite justified for her trouble. It was not often that Jenny bothered to dress up for any occasion. In fact, not since Mark had gone out of her life, and this had not been for any other reason than for a wish to remain in the background as much as possible, and not, as Tony and the rest of the staff had thought at that time, because Mark had jilted her.

As she passed the table next to the one she was heading for, she met Mark's mocking eyes with a glint of defiance in hers, and she didn't know why she should choose this particular time to remember that he had not liked her hair twisted up on top of her head as she had chosen to style it that evening, but she was extremely grateful that she had just happened to put it up, more from a wish to look older and more sophisticated than she felt.

A light flush stained her cheeks, as she heard Mark murmur in a low voice as she floated past him, 'You look gorgeous, kitten, but don't overdo the welcome, will you?'

Once again she caught the proprietorial note in his voice; he might just as well have said, 'I shall be watching you, so keep it cool,' and she couldn't understand his reasoning at all. He had Peacock's Walk, and nothing she said or did would change the situation, so why he had to act the big brother was beyond her. Unless, a tiny voice whispered inside her, he did intend to take over where Malcolm had left off, as Tony had intimated earlier, in which

case, she thought indignantly, he had a few surprises in store, not to mention disappointments!

Her host more or less echoed Mark's sentiments —as far as her appearance went, that was—and seated her with courtly, old-fashioned etiquette that was somehow touching, and made her feel like weeping, for her father had possessed the same courteousness towards his guests, and it was something that was sadly lacking in up-to-date mannerisms.

It was the same with the ordering of the meal, for after ascertaining her likes and dislikes, Silas made the selection, and Jenny had only to sit back and silently approve of his choice of fare. While they waited for the first course to be served, Silas poured her a glass of a white Sauternes that he told her he could thoroughly recommend, and took his time slowly sipping his drink before coming to the subject Jenny shrewdly guessed had been the reason for his invitation.

'I guess,' he began after a few moments' deliberation, 'I owe you an apology, Miss Grange,' and looked up to meet Jenny's wary glance at him. 'But first,' he went on as he placed his glass down on the table, 'I must thank you for receiving me as you did earlier on. I wouldn't have been a bit surprised if you'd refused to meet me,' he gave a quick grin as a thought struck him at this point, and added dryly, Not that Mark gave you much choice in the matter, I admit, but you could have given me the cold shoulder, and I'm right grateful that you didn't.'

Jenny looked down at the table, for she knew she

hardly deserved such a tribute. If it had not been for the thought of the staff she might well have given him the 'cold shoulder', as he had so aptly put it. As it was, she had had to exercise a great deal of self-control not to give her thoughts away, although his apology told her that he was not insensible of her feelings in this.

`Mark told me he'd been unsuccessful in his earlier bid,' Silas went on carefully, and gave a slight shrug. 'Normally, one would put this down to the one that got away—you can't win 'em all, as you'd say, but there were certain reasons why I wanted him to have this place.'

Jenny was grateful for the intervention of the waiter just then, for she was wondering if he knew the history behind Mark's interest in the hotel, as she had come to the undeniable conclusion that Tony had been right all along in his summing-up of her ex-fiancé's motives in purchasing Peacock's Walk. His subtle warning to her had ended all speculation on this front, and was intended to give Jenny due notice of his renewed interest in her. It also gave her time to reinforce her battlements.

Nothing more was said until they had finished the starters, and as Jenny's spoon dipped into her avocado vinaigrette, she wondered if Silas Hawter had come as Mark's champion. If so, it was a wasted journey. Somehow she must convey this to him, but as Mark's friend he was not likely to hear anything against him, not that she intended to rake up the past, that was between Mark and herself, and no one else.

I’
ve known Mark for a very long time,' began Silas ruminatively, while they waited for the first course to be served, 'both as a friend and a business colleague. As a friend, I owe him quite a lot—he saved me from making an all time fool of myself not so very long ago.' He gave Jenny a sheepish grin. 'Oh, I know I ought to have known better than to have entered into the romantic stakes at my age, and I didn't appreciate his advice at the time, but I was sure thankful that I acted upon it later. The woman was a confidence trickster and had me all trussed up for plucking until Mark arrived on the scene.' He shot Jenny a keen glance as he added dryly, 'That was one man she didn't fool—no, sir! Although there'd been plenty of others. I'd back his judgment all the way, no matter what the situation.'

Jenny sat silent, although there was a lot she could have added to his somewhat sweeping statement about Mark's astuteness. In her case, his reasoning power appeared to have come unstuck—or perhaps it hadn't, she thought dryly. Any excuse was better than none when one wanted to get out from under, as she was sure he had when he had wanted to end the engagement.

Silas's enthusiastic comments on the appetisingly prepared blue trout that was placed before them a few seconds later brought her out of her musings. 'If that tastes half as good as it looks, I can see I shall be sending the chef my compliments,' he said happily, as he added a few garnishings to Jenny's

plate, only stopping when she indicated that she had enough.

The trout and the course that followed, came well up to expectation, as Jenny had known it would, and the conversation lagged until full justice had been done to Tony's culinary efforts, but all too soon for Jenny's liking they were back to the subject she least wanted to discuss.