Witching Hour (25 page)

hotel business. This is what I'm paid for—what my contract

stipulates I should do. It doesn't mention I have to submit to being

seduced by the owner.'

'Submission was hardly what I had in mind,' he said. 'But you must

agree that we have to talk.'

'We have nothing to talk about.'

'Don't be a fool,' he said bitingly. 'You know better than that. You

haven't that short a memory.'

'All right, then—let's say I don't need any further reminders that I

nearly made a total fool of myself tonight.'

'Is that how you look at it?' His tone was odd.

'How else?' she said shortly. 'Now please leave me alone, or I'll

scream and give this house the second sensation of the evening.'

'Very well,' he said quietly. 'But our talk is only deferred. There

are things I have to say to you.'

Morgana shrugged. 'But that doesn't mean I necessarily have to

listen.'

He drew a long breath. 'Vixen! Stop punishing me. I didn't

organise that interruption. Next time I'll make sure . ..'

'Next time?' Temper exploded inside her and her voice rose. 'Next

time? There'll be no next time, you swine! I'll never let you touch

me again. I must have been mad tonight, but I'm sane again now.'

'Are you? You sound pretty hysterical to me.' His tone had

hardened. 'What do you intend to do? Try and pretend that tonight

never happened?'

'Something like that,' she said savagely. 'Now perhaps you'd like to

get back to your guest. She must be wondering where you are.'

She went along to her own room and sat on the bed, staring

sightlessly in front of her.

Pretend that tonight never happened, she thought. If only she

could! Elaine's unexpected descent on Polzion had been a blessing

in disguise. It had provided her with a timely reminder that she

was far from being the only woman in Lyall's life, and that all he

was interested in was a casual sexual encounter, and if she'd ever

allowed herself foolishly and childishly to hope for anything

different, then she knew better now.

She wanted to cry, but she wouldn't allow herself to do that. She

still had things to do, duties to perform downstairs. There was the

rekindled fire to guard, and the tea things to clear away. She got up

resolutely and opened her door.

The corridor outside was dark, the sole illumination being the light

coming from Elaine's room. Elaine herself was standing in the

open doorway, looking up at Lyall. She was smiling and every line

of her body outlined by the glimmering golden dress was an

invitation.

As Morgana watched helplessly from the shelter of her doorway,

Elaine reached out and took his hand, drawing him into her room,

and closing the door behind them.

It was quite dark now. Morgana crushed her fist against her lips,

stifling the little moan which rose from her throat. Every dream

was over. The witching hour was past, and the spell was broken

for ever.

She was late down to help with breakfast the next morning, but her

mother waved away her halting apology.

'I'm surprised you made it at ail, darling, after your disturbed night.

I can't imagine how I slept through it all, especially as Miss

Meakins informed me pointedly that she hadn't managed to get a

wink of sleep because of all the comings and goings.' She gave

Morgana an affectionately critical glance. 'You look very pale,

dear. Do you think you ought to go back to bed?'

'I'm sure I shouldn't,' said Morgana with a little wintry smile. 'Er—

where is our unexpected guest this morning.'

'Having breakfast in bed,' Elsa interjected disapprovingly. 'The

very idea! And freshly squeezed orange juice, if you please. She

can have it out of a tin, same as everyone else.'

Morgana did not enquire where Lyall was. She did not want to

think about him, let alone mention his name. She had thought too

much during the long night, as she had tossed restlessly trying

vainly to blot out the mental image of him holding Elaine in his

arms, their bodies entwined together.

Now she said hurriedly, 'If you think you can manage, I'd like to

pop down to the Home Farm for a while.'

She didn't wait for a response, but walked out of the house,

pushing her arms into the sleeves of her jacket as she went.

Rob was just coming out of the stables as she drove into the yard

and he stopped, eyeing her with surprise as well as pleasure.

'You're the last person I expected to see this morning,' he

commented, as she got out of the car. 'You obviously kept off the

mulled wine last night, and I bet Jimmy wished he had too.'

Morgana forced a smile. 'I bet! He was very lucky. They both

were.' She thrust her balled fists into the pockets of her coat and

said jerkily, 'Rob, I've come to say—to ask if you really meant

what you said last night?'

He stared at her. 'I meant every word.'

She swallowed. 'I see. Then I just want you to know— I'll marry

you. But not yet.' she added in sudden panic, as he took a quick

stride towards her, his face lighting up. 'It's too soon—after my

father's death.'

'Yes, yes, of course.' He tried to make his voice suitably grave and

sympathetic, but he was grinning from ear to ear. 'Oh, darling, I

won't give you a moment's regret.'

His arms closed round her and she shut her eyes as she submitted

to his embrace. She tried to respond, to convert her liking for him,

her affection even, into a physical warmth, but at the same time,

something inside her was asking whether this was to reassure him

or herself because the truth was that she felt nothing.

She tried to tell herself that she was simply drained after the

previous night. Things will improve, she told herself fiercely, as he

reluctantly released her and she drew away, trying to smile.

'I—I must go. I have a million and one things to do at the house.'

Rob leaned forward and kissed the Up of her nose. 'Well, if Elaine

runs you ragged, warn her that she'll have me to contend with. I'll

pick you up tonight and we'll go out to celebrate. Right?'

'Right,' she agreed. She didn't feel like celebrating, she thought as

she drove away. She felt more like weeping. But after last night,

she doubted whether there were any more tears inside her to shed.

She hated herself for what she had just done. She was using Rob,

using him in cold blood as a protection against her feelings for

Lyall, as a defence against the agony of jealousy and despair

which threatened to overwhelm her whenever she thought of him.

And she needed a defence. Last night had proved that once and for

all. Where Lyall was concerned she was weak, totally without

resistance, and she couldn't afford to be weak any more. She had

fallen in love with Lyall, deeply and desperately, but there was no

future in it, and never had been.

Yet with Rob there could be a future. He was good and kind and

safe, and she was fond of him. All she could hope was that out of

that fondness something deeper and more permanent might

develop, if it was allowed to. And in the meantime he would be her

shield and protector against Lyall.

She could learn to care for Rob in the way he would want, she told

herself defiantly. She was capable of passion. She'd just never

given him a chance, that was all.

I want contentment, she thought, arid security. I don't want to feel

torn apart inside when he touches me. I don't want to ache for him.

But I'll make a firm foundation for our relationship; I owe him that

at least.

She put the car away and slipped into the house by the side door,

hoping to avoid seeing anyone. Sooner or later she would have to

break the news about her engagement, but not yet. First she had to

accustom herself to what she had done.

She went up the stairs lightly, two at a time, heading for her room,

and came face to face with Lyall, who was standing alone on the

gallery, looking at the family portraits. There was something

different about the display, she realised, and when she looked

more closely, she realised that Mark Pentreath's portrait now hung

there, and some of the other pictures had been rearranged to make

room for it.

'I hope you approve.' He glanced at her, eyebrows raised.

'It really makes little difference whether I do or not,' she said. 'But

it seems only fair to restore him to his rightful place. It's a pity he

was ever ousted from it.'

'He'd agree with you there,' he said ruefully. 'He was a man with an

obsession.'

Morgana went to walk away, but he detained her. 'Feel like talking

this morning?' His eyes were fixed on her face, and she felt the

familiar, painful lurch of her heart.

'It rather depends on the topic of conversation.' She tried to keep

her tone impersonal.

'The topic is you and me,' he said.

'You speak as if we were a pair,' she said sharply.

He smiled. 'Are you trying to pretend that we aren't?'

He had no idea, of course, that she'd seen him with Elaine the

previous night. She took a deep breath. 'I'm telling you that we

aren't. Be the first to know, Lyall. I'm engaged to be married.'

'The hell you are!' His voice bit at her.

'It's true.' She faced him, chin up. 'Rob asked me to marry him at

the party, and I agreed.'

'I don't recall any mention of that rather important point last night.'

His voice had lengthened to a drawl, but Morgana was not

deceived by his apparent calm. His eyes were incandescent with

rage.

She shrugged. 'I didn't agree last night. We actually became

engaged about half an hour ago.'

'Dear God,' he said quietly. He looked at her and she flinched

inwardly from the contempt in his face. 'You're a fast worker, I'll

say that for you. Melting in my arms one moment, and getting

engaged to that poor devil the next. What would you have done if

I'd actually had you? Eloped?'

Morgana lifted her arm and slapped him as hard as she could

across the face. She was terrified when she'd done it. She could see

the marks of her hand on his cheek, and he was angry already. She

would have no one to blame if he retaliated and hard.

Instead he smiled, his eyes holding hers remorselessly. 'I won't

wish you luck, Morgan le Fay,' he said. 'I'll save my good wishes

for Donleven. He'll need them—married to a ruthless little bitch

like you.'

Then he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her there,

smarting as if he had slapped her after all.

'YOU'RE engaged to Rob?' Mrs Pentreath's eyes searched her

daughter's face in amazement. 'Darling, isn't this rather sudden?'

'Is it?' Morgana smiled, but inwardly she was discomfited by this

lukewarm reception of her news. 'I've been going out with him for

quite some time.'

'I know that.' Elizabeth shook her head. 'But I never thought your

feelings were quite so deeply involved.'

'You don't sound very pleased. I thought you liked Rob.'

'I do like him. No one could really help doing so, but that's hardly

important. It's your attitude—your emotions that matter.' Mrs

Pentreath hesitated. 'Has he told his parents yet?'

'I imagine he's telling them now.' Morgana gave her mother a

challenging look. 'Why? Do you think they'll have any objections?'

'I wouldn't care to hazard a guess,' Mrs Pentreath returned rather

drily. 'You've had more contact with them than I have. Do you

imagine they'll greet you with open arms?'

Morgana was silent for a moment, then she said defensively, 'I'm

marrying Rob, not his family.'

'I suppose so,' Elizabeth said without conviction. 'Darling, I know

you've been unhappy lately—unsettled, but things will improve, I

promise. Don't do anything hasty—anything you might live to

regret.'

'I guarantee that I won't,' Morgana said gently.

Elsa's reaction to the news was even more negative.

'My dear soul,' she said flatly, sitting down at the kitchen table,

'you must be mazed, that's all I can say.'

'Elsa,' Morgana protested uncomfortably, 'you've always said you

wanted to see me happy and settled, and you saw a fair man in the

cards.'

'Well, t'wasn't him.' Elsa said grimly. 'You know better than that,

maid, so don't deny it.'

Morgana's lips quivered suddenly and she avoided Elsa's gaze.

'It has to be him,' she said in a low voice. 'There's no one else.'

She turned quickly and left the kitchen.