Witching Hour (9 page)

'Oh well.' Mrs Pentreath looked at her watch. 'It's still quite early,

of course. And he probably has other matters to attend to.'

Undoubtedly, Morgana thought bitterly. More snooping and prying

in the locality.

Elaine asked, rather too casually, 'Have you any idea what he

does?'

Mrs Pentreath shook her head. 'He mentioned nothing. In fact, he

didn't really talk about himself at all. But he seems to have

business on both sides of the Atlantic, so I imagine he works for

some big company.'

'One would think so,' Elaine agreed. 'In other circumstances, of

course, it would all be rather thrilling—discovering a branch of the

family about which one knew relatively nothing.'

'I'd have been perfectly happy to remain in ignorance of this

particular member of it,' Morgana said bluntly.

'Really?' Elaine studied her face with interest. 'Daddy was saying

later last night that it's always better in these cases if things can be

settled amicably.'

'Fortunately it has nothing to do with me,' Morgana said levelly.

'Mr Pentreath's negotiations will, naturally, be with my mother.'

That, she thought, had a reasonably dignified ring to it. The fact

that there would be no negotiations was something that concerned

only her and her mother.

'The whole thing is so deliciously Victorian,' Elaine purred.

'Entails—and male heirs. Of course, a hundred years ago he would

probably have done the honourable thing and made you an offer of

marriage, Morgana. If he's not already married, that is.'

'I've no idea whether he is, or not,' said Mrs Pentreath. 'He didn't

mention anything about a wife—did he, Morgana?'

'Not a word,' Morgana shrugged. 'Although I suppose that doesn't

mean a great deal, these days.'

Not to a man like him anyway, she thought. She'd assumed—his

behaviour had led her to believe that he was unmarried—yet the

opposite could be the case, which would make the way he had

acted even more vile and insulting. The coffee tasted bitter

suddenly, and she got up from her chair and replaced her cup on

the tray.

'I think, if you'll excuse me, that I'll go and see to those roses,' she

said abruptly.

'That's a good idea,' her mother approved. 'And perhaps you could

check on lunch at the same time. Will you stay, Miss Donleven?'

she added politely but without enthusiasm.

'I'd adore to, but Mummy's expecting me back,' Elaine gushed.

Good for Mummy, Morgana thought, as she walked along the

passage to the kitchen. She was smiling to herself as she pushed

open the door, but the smile was wiped from her face when she

saw Lyall Pentreath sitting at the table, looking down at the spread

of cards Elsa was busy laying before him.

'You?' Morgana exclaimed. 'But we didn't hear. . . How did you

get here?'

He rose, and she was unwillingly made aware of his height and the

lazy strength of his movements.

'I found the back entrance into the stable yard, so I left my car

there,' he said. 'Why, have you any objection?'

'Of course not,' she denied colourlessly. 'You—you're free to come

and go as you wish, naturally. I was just— surprised, that's all.'

'I seem to have done very little but startle you since we met.' His

tone was pleasant, but his eyes were amused, challenging, and she

resented the implications of the challenge. 'I shall have to try to do

better in future.'

'I don't suppose we shall meet very much in future,' she said flatly.

'Elsa, you really shouldn't bother Mr Pentreath with that nonsense

of yours.' .

'Nonsense, is it?' Elsa sniffed. 'There's been times when you've

been glad enough for me to look into the future for you.'

But that, Morgana thought, was when I felt safe and secure. When

the future seemed a series of bright pictures—almost a game, and

not the frightening reality that it's become.

Lyall Pentreath said, 'I asked her to read my cards. I understand

that she has quite a reputation for it locally.'

Morgana shrugged. 'She does a guest appearance at the Polzion

church fete each summer. It goes' down well with the tourists.'

'But of course it's all superstition and you don't believe in it,' he

said, and his smile told her that he was remembering their first

encounter on the moor in the shadow of the Wishing Stone.

'I think we've already established that I'm probably as credulous as

the next person,' she said curtly. 'Now, I suggest that we leave Elsa

to get on with lunch. I presume you've come to tell my mother

your arrangements for taking possession of your—property.' The

words nearly choked her, but they had to be said.

'I've come to talk to your mother, yes.' His brows rose a little. 'Am

I to infer that you haven't the slightest interest in hearing what I

have to say?'

Morgana shrugged. 'It's really none of my business. I just want my

mother spared any further anxiety.'

Lyall gave her a long look. 'Really? I imagine one of her major

preoccupations right now must be you.'

Morgana was utterly taken aback. 'What on earth are you talking

about?'

'Think about it,' he said succinctly. He swung back to Elsa, and

smiled at her. 'Thanks for the reading. I'll be back for another one

at a later date.'

'You'm more than welcome,' Elsa assured him, sweeping the cards

into a pile, but not before Morgana had seen the Queen of Hearts

occupying pride of place in the spread.

Irrationally, she found herself hoping that Elaine would have gone

by now, but as they emerged from the kitchen passage into the

hall, there she was, saying goodbye to Elizabeth Pentreath at the

door, the watery sunlight turning her hair to a burnished aureole

around her head.

Morgana heard Lyall catch his breath sharply.

Mrs Pentreath looked at her daughter, her brows raised in mute

almost comical query as she saw her companion.

'Elsa was telling his fortune in the kitchen,' Morgana said shortly.

'How nice,' Mrs Pentreath murmured helplessly. 'Er— Miss

Donleven, may I introduce our cousin Lyall Pentreath?'

Elaine moved forward, extending a hand, her full lips parting in a

smile of candid assessment. 'Oh, but I think we've met already,' she

exclaimed. 'Weren't you at Lindsay van Guisen's party at Gstaad

last Christmas?'

'Yes, I was there.' Lyall took her hand and showed no sign of

letting it go again. 'But if you're saying you were there, and I've

forgotten, then I shall never forgive myself.'

Elaine laughed prettily. 'Oh, you were far too occupied with

Lindsay—and who can blame you? She's a very lovely girl, and

she has all that wonderful money. I'd say it was an irresistible

combination.'

'I've managed to resist it so far,' he said rather drily. 'Lindsay's my

stepsister.'

'Lucky Lindsay,' Elaine murmured, then she paused, her eyes

widening dramatically. 'Stepsister? Oh, my God, then you must be.

. .'

'Lyall van Guisen,' he supplied. 'I see you know the name.'

'Well, of course.' Elaine said tremulously. 'Daddy's company does

endless business with the van Guisen-Lyall corporation. Good

heavens, this is absolutely amazing! I can't wait to tell him.'

'Perhaps you'd also like to tell me,' Morgana interposed swiftly.

'Just what is going, on here? We understood you were Lyall

Pentreath, only now it turns out you're someone completely

different.'

He gave her an almost indifferent look. 'My full name is Lyall

Pentreath van Guisen. When my mother remarried some years ago,

my stepfather asked if I would take his name. He was a fine man,

and I was happy to agree. Is that sufficient explanation?'

'No, I'm damned if it is!' she retorted hotly. 'It seems to me we've

taken far too much on trust already. Have you any means of

proving who you really are?'

He said wearily, 'I've already provided your lawyer with all the

necessary credentials. What else do you want to know about?

Birthmarks? I have none. And if you imagine for one moment I

would go to the trouble of fabricating a claim to an estate which I

know already is going to cause me nothing but problems, then

you're crazy.'

'Be nice to him, Morgana,' Elaine advised, her smile widening.

'Most people would be glad to know they'd got a millionaire in the

family. Owning even part of van Guisen-Lyall is like having your

own private goldmine. I've often heard Daddy say so.'

Morgana could feel the colour draining out of her cheeks. 'A

millionaire? You're actually a millionaire?' The blaze was starting

in her voice.

He met her furious gaze, his own eyes cool and guarded. 'Yes—for

my sins.'

'There's only one sin that concerns me,' she said savagely. 'The sin

of stealing my mother's home and livelihood from her. No wonder

you're a rich man! You'd probably stoop to pick a penny out of the

gutter. My God, people like you make me sick!'

'Fascinating.' He returned ice to her fire. 'Remind me sometime to

tell you what I think of people like you.' He turned to Elaine. 'I'm

sorry you had to take part in our little family quarrel. It seems

we've been noted for them for generations.'

'Oh, you mustn't be too angry with Morgana,' Elaine almost cooed.

'She's naturally upset about this whole situation.' She paused. 'Is

this just a flying visit to Polzion, Lyall, or will you be staying for a

while? I know Mummy and Daddy would love to ask you over for

dinner.'

'I'll be staying,' he said, and for the moment his eyes met

Morgana's.

She turned away, and walked blindly into the drawing room, her

heart thumping painfully. That was more than just a challenge, she

thought bitterly. It was a declaration of war.

MORGANA walked across to the drawing room window and stood

looking out. It seemed impossible to realise that only twenty-four

hours had passed since she had stood there, dreading his arrival. It

seemed like a lifetime, and her head reeled as she tried to make

sense of all that had happened. Out in the garden, a few leaves still

clung tenaciously to the trees, in defiance of the sudden gusts of

wind that sent their fellows whirling and trembling to the ground.

She thought, 'I know how they feel.'

In the hall she could hear the murmur of voices, and Elaine's

laughter. She bit her Up angrily, condemning herself for having

behaved as she had in front of the other girl. She'd intended to play

it cool, but there was something about Lyall Pentreath that flicked

her on the raw. But even that was no excuse for speaking to him as

she had done in front of a stranger.

The door opened, and she looked round, expecting to see her

mother's reproachful face, but instead Lyall entered alone, closing

the door behind him. He stood looking at her in silence for a

moment, and she quailed inwardly.

'Where's my mother?' she demanded.

'Organising coffee for the hotel guests in the dining room,' he said.

'I told her I'd like a few words with you in private.'

'To hear my apology for my bad manners?' she asked bitterly.

'I don't expect miracles,' he bit back at her. 'You're just one

seething bundle of resentment, aren't you, lady? And you're used to

having everything your own way. It's an unhappy combination, but

if you were only affecting yourself by it, then I'd leave you to rot.

But you're not the only one concerned. There's your mother. Hasn't

she enough to contend with right now without worrying herself

sick about the next bloody thing you're going to say or do?'

'That's not fair!' she gasped furiously. 'I'd do anything that would

help Mummy. She's my only concern in all this.'

'Then you have a strange way of showing it,' he said coldly. 'You

feel you've been badly treated—well, you probably have a point.

But just remember, my little witch, that I didn't invent this entail.

To me it's an anachronism, and a waste of my time and money.'

'Oh, I thought it wouldn't be long before your money was

mentioned,' she jibed. 'I'm sorry if I haven't been treating you with

the respect your position deserves. Should we all pull our forelocks

and call you Squire, perhaps? Only I should warn you that in these

parts a man is judged by what he is, rather than by what he has.'

Lyall said without a trace of emotion, 'So I've been discovering.

Would you like to know how your late father rated?'