Authors: Sara Craven
from anger as from cold.
'Let's get one thing clear, shall we?' Her voice sounded fierce. 'You
have no plans for me, Gethyn. You forfeited that right a long time
ago. I came here to Wales for one reason only, and you know it as
well as I do: to persuade you to divorce me now and not make us
both wait for several more years. That's what I intended, although I
admit I may not have gone the right way about it. But it's what I still
want.'
'You've stated your case.' His tone was flat. 'Now do you want to
hear what I want?'
'No.' She pressed her hands over her ears. 'No, I don't. I can't. If
there's any mercy in you, Gethyn, stop tormenting me and let me
go!'
'Mercy,' he said very evenly, 'was never further from my thoughts.
I'll let you go,
cariad,
but in my own good time, and on my own
terms. You talk about rights. What right had you to come here,
asking me for favours? Did you really imagine all you'd have to do
was smile and ask prettily and I'd fall in with everything you
wanted?' He gave a derisive laugh. 'I suppose I should have known.
That's been the story of your life up to now, hasn't it? Mummy's
spoiled little girl, like a child in a toyshop, fancying everything she
set eyes on and to hell with the consequences. Only sometimes the
consequences are people, Davina, and they don't take kindly to
being discarded when your fancy wanes. If I can teach you that
much at least, perhaps this whole mess will have been worth it.'
'And perhaps not,' she said with a kind of quiet desperation.
'Gethyn, for God's sake, don't make everything worse. Don't leave
us with even more to regret.'
He shook his head mockingly. 'I shall have nothing to regret,
cariad.'
'Not even the hurt you're going to do to the girl you're going to
marry?' She stared at him entreatingly. 'She doesn't want me here
now. If she were to suspect even for a moment that the relationship
between us had—altered in any way ...' She lifted her shoulders in a
helpless shrug. 'I can't believe you want that to happen.'
'Perhaps not,' he said softly. 'But it's something I'll have to risk.'
'Oh, God,' she whispered. 'It's true, isn't it? You don't care, do you?
All that matters is your damaged pride, and the gratification of your
instincts. You've said some hard things to me, Gethyn. I may have
deserved some of them— I don't know. But are you really any
better? You're incapable of normal human decency. You—you're an
animal!'
'Am I now?' He was smiling, but his voice was taut with anger.
'Well, that seemed to suit you well enough once upon a time. I don't
remember you complaining about my animal-like behaviour before I
married you. In fact quite the reverse. Until something or someone
reminded you that you were a respectable middle-class virgin, and
that desire was a dirty word. And then the ice formed.' His mouth
twisted. 'But it melted before, Davina, and it can again. Who
knows? The man who follows me into your bed may even have
cause to thank me.'
She cried out and her hand came up to strike him full across his
dark, jeering face, but he read her intention and his fingers gripped
her wrist like a vice before she could make contact. At the same
time, he gave her arm a brutal jerk so that she stumbled forward,
half falling against him. His eyes glinted down into her white face.
'If you want to play rough, Davina, I'll be happy to accommodate
you, but don't complain if you're the one who ends up bruised.'
He released her almost contemptuously and stood aside to allow her
to precede him up the track. Her legs were shaking under her, but
she managed the ascent somehow, very conscious that he was
following her. At the top he halted her, his hand on her arm. His
teeth gleamed in a sardonic smile.
'I imagine you can find your own way back to Plas Gwyn. I'll see
you there later. Oh, and by the way'—as she turned dully
away—'don't duck and hide, Davina. We're on my territory now,
and I happen to know all the hiding places.'
She collected the shreds of her dignity remaining to her and set off
towards the house. Her willpower faltered at one point and she
could not resist a swift glance back over her shoulder to see if he
was watching her go, but the hillside behind her was empty. Only
the shadow of the great dragon rock remained, stretching out in the
late afternoon sun to cross her path, as if in silent warning.
She felt unutterably weary when she reached the house. She was
thankful Mrs Parry was not hovering to oversee her return, and
hurried across the hall, intending to make.
for the stairs and the comparative safety of her room. But as she got
to the stairs, Huw Morgan emerged from the back of the house
carrying a large flat basket piled high with logs. His brows rose
when he saw Davina.
'Still with us, then,
bach?
That's good news.'
'I'm glad you think so.' She couldn't keep the bite out of her voice,
and he gave an exaggerated wince.
'Someone would seem to have upset you,' he remarked. 'I won't
enquire further.' His gaze sharpened. 'What have you done to your
hair?'
'Had it cut,' she snapped. 'Any objection?'
'Oh, so that's it,' he observed meditatively. He shook his head rather
sadly. 'No, Gethyn wouldn't like that. He wouldn't like it at all.'
'No, he doesn't.' A sudden inspiration had seized her, and she made
herself smile at him, albeit ruefully. 'I—I'm
persona non grata
round here at the moment, and I think the best thing I can do is
make a tactful withdrawal— only ...' She hesitated.
'Only what?' he prompted.
'So silly.' She spread out her hands ingenuously. 'There's something
a teeny bit wrong with the car. It simply wouldn't start earlier, and
things being as they are, I can hardly ask Gethyn to fix it for me. I
don't suppose you ...' She let the words drift away invitingly.
Huw pursed his lips reluctantly. 'Well, I'm no mechanic, but if it's
only a simple thing, I daresay I could manage it. I'll just put these in
the sitting room for Mrs Parry and then I'll be with you.'
Davina could not help a sneaking feeling of triumph as he
accompanied her up to the parking space. By the time Gethyn
returned she could be away and gone. She watched while he tried to
start the engine, but unavailingly. He was frowning as he got out
and raised the bonnet.
'Sure your battery isn't flat, Davina?'
'I don't think so,' she said honestly. 'I—I think it's far more likely to
be some slight mechanical fault.'
He gave an uninformative grunt as he bent over the engine.
Eventually he straightened and shot her a peculiar look. 'Odd kind
of fault,' he remarked. 'Your rotor arm is missing.'
Davina swallowed. 'Is that serious?'
'Well, the car won't start without it,' he returned.
She tried to smile again. 'I wonder what's happened to it?'
'I wonder too.' He gave her a long look. 'You may be
persona non
grata, bach
, but someone wants you to stay around. Sure you
haven't been feeding me a line?'
'Why should I want to do that?' she protested weakly.
He made no reply, but slammed down the bonnet with an air of
finality.
She tried again. 'Is there no way, Huw, that you could just—fix it
up for me, even temporarily, until I can get to a garage?'
'No, Davina. Removing the rotor arm is one of the most effective
ways there are of disabling a car. Da learned to do it during the war
when he was in the R.A.F. It stopped people joyriding on your
petrol, he said.'
There was nothing more to be said. She trailed embarrassedly
beside
him
back to the house, only
thankful
that he was not asking
any probing questions. In the hall, she detained him.
'I suppose you wouldn't give me a lift to the nearest railway station?'
she asked, not troubling to conceal the pleading note in her voice.
'You suppose right.' Huw raised his eyebrows. 'Don't look so
stricken,
bach.
It's one of my rules—never interfere between
husband and wife, and I've already broken it once where you and
Gethyn are concerned.'
'Yes,' she said quietly. She wondered whether Huw had been made
to suffer any repercussions for taking her out that night. It would
not really be fair to expose him to Gethyn's wrath for a second time.
Besides, Huw had problems of his own. She asked herself if he was
aware just, how serious the relationship was between Gethyn and
Rhiannon, but she could not bring herself to ask him outright. If he
did know, it would explain his reluctance to help her get away from
Plas Gwyn. He must be hoping that she would be the wedge to
drive Gethyn and Rhiannon apart.
Huw was watching her. 'Mrs Parry has some tea on the go if you'd
like some.'
'No, thanks. I'm not thirsty.' It wasn't true. She could have drained a
reservoir, but she couldn't face the homely kitchen, and Mrs Parry's
inquisitorial gaze over the teacups.
She closed the bedroom door behind her and leaned against it for a
moment, her eyes closed. The first thing she saw when she opened
them was that the bed was littered with parcels. Gethyn, it seemed,
had been up to her room— his room, she remembered bitterly. She
eyed her morning's purchases with dislike. She'd never particularly
wanted to see any of them again, but at least they would be a
change from her shirtwaister, which had stood up gallantly to the
rough treatment it had received, but was now looking thoroughly
dejected. She glanced at herself in the mirror. In spite of its wilted
state, the dress still conveyed an air of appealing femininity which
she was far from anxious to emphasise just now. Jeans and a
sweater would be far more appropriate for the current state of her
emotions.
She selected a handful of clothing more or less at random, and went
off to the bathroom. There was a heavy bolt on the inside of this
door, and she felt infinitely more secure once it was thrust into
place. As she ran the water into the bath, she kept eyeing the bolt
and wondering how long it would take a really determined man to
break down the door, but at the same time she knew there was no
way she was going to find out. Gethyn, she was sure, would emerge
the winner from any encounter she cared to stage, and she shrank
from the thought of making an ugly scene in front of a houseful of
strangers.
She lay for a long time in the hot water, hoping that it would have
the usual therapeutic effect of relaxing some of the tensions out of
her body. But not this time. She was still wincingly, nerve-bitingly
on edge as she stepped out on to the small bath mat and began to
dry herself on the rather rough towel.
When she was dressed again, she had to admit she was not wholly
dissatisfied with her appearance. The new haircut and the
close-fitting dark clothes made her look very young and emphasised
the delicacy of her bone structure. Normally she would have added
gloss to her lips and a touch of blusher to her pale cheeks, but not
tonight. This time she was aiming for the well-scrubbed, rather
boyish look, she thought ruefully—a ploy of desperation if ever
there was one!
The pony-trekkers had returned, she knew. While she was bathing
and dressing, she had heard various pairs of feet ascending the
stairs and the sound of laughter and voices. So it was no surprise
when she entered the kitchen a little later to find Rhiannon sitting at
the table. She glanced up at Davina's entrance, and her brows drew
together.
'Good God,' she remarked unflatteringly. 'What have you done to
yourself?'
Davina sighed. 'I've changed my image a little,' she returned
equably. 'I should have thought you'd be pleased. You didn't seem
to care for the previous one very much.'
Rhiannon shrugged rudely. 'I don't give a damn what you look like,'
she retorted. 'It's your presence I object to, not your physical
appearance. Does this mean you're staying on?'
Davina was forced to smile unwillingly at the overt note of disgust
in the other girl's voice.
'I'm afraid so,' she acquiesced, sitting down at the table. 'At least
until my car is mended.'
'What's the matter with it?' Rhiannon sat up. 'Huw knows a bit
about cars. He was around here earlier. I'll get him to have a look at