HIGH TIDE AT MIDNIGHT (28 page)

dinner at Trevennon tomorrow, evening. Everything would work out after

that—I know it.'

Barbie Inglis seemed to withdraw in upon herself. 'I asked you to go, Miss

Kerslake,' she said in a quiet monotonous voice.

Morwenna hesitated, took one last despairing look at the unyielding face

before her, then walked to the door.

She was halfway down the stairs when a door at the side of the hall opened

and Karen came out. Morwenna froze, hoping that the other girl would not

look up and see her standing there, but it was a vain hope. Karen glanced

round almost casually, but as her gaze focussed upon Morwenna, her

features sharpened inimically.

'What are you doing here?' Her voice sounded shrill with shock. She swung

back towards the room she had just left. 'Dominic!'

Morwenna groaned silently, her fingers gripping the banister rail until her

knuckles showed white.

He came out into the hall and stood looking up at her as if he could not

believe his eyes. Then he said very quietly, 'What in hell's name do you think

you're playing at?'

Morwenna sighed. 'I came to ask Miss Inglis to dine at Trevennon tomorrow

evening.'

Temper barely controlled brought Karen's lovely face to the brink of

ugliness.
'You
came to invite her? My God, if that isn't adding insult to

injury…'

'Oh, you don't have to worry.' Morwenna was very pale. She came down the

remaining stairs. 'She refused—naturally, and I'm leaving.'

'I should damn well think you are!' Karen walked to the front door and flung

it open.

Morwenna went blindly towards it.

'Wait, Morwenna.' Dominic's voice came after her, cool and authoritative.

'No.' She paused, but did not turn arid look back at the two of them standing

there united in condemnation of her. 'Forgive me, but I don't think I can take

any more at the moment. I know what you must be thinking, but I can only

say I meant it for the best. I'm sorry.'

She went out into the raw December air, walking quickly. As she reached

the gate, she heard the front door slam shut behind her, closing them in

together. As she walked away from the house, a few flakes of snow began to

drift down out of the leaden sky, but she paid them no heed, and the

dampness on her face had no connection with the weather at all.

'You mean,' Biddy said incredulously, 'that you've run away?'

Morwenna avoided her gaze. 'Not really. I was going toleave anyway. I've

just done it a little earlier than I intended, that's all.'

'Balderdash,' Biddy said roundly. 'No one takes off for anywhere through

choice on Christmas Eve. I mean, where are you going to go? What are you

going to do?' She saw Morwenna's suddenly stricken look, and her face

softened. 'Oh, love, I mean ultimately. Of course you can stay here with us

as long as you want, you know that. Where do they all think you are?'

'I wrote Nick a note, saying I'd decided to go back to the Priory.' Morwenna

bit her lip. It had been a difficult letter to write, knowing the hurt she was

going to deal the recipient. 'They'll think I've gone to Penzance to catch a

train. At least that's what I hope they'll think.' She took a sip at the scalding

mug of coffee Biddy had just put into her hand.

'Well, Mark won't think it for one,' Biddy pointed out reasonably. 'We can

hardly hide you in a cupboard each time he knocks at the door.'

'I hadn't thought of that,' Morwenna admitted. She sighed. 'Oh, Biddy, I'm

sorry to give you all this trouble. I just couldn't think where else to go.'

Biddy gave a rueful chuckle. 'Love, the only person you're making trouble

for is yourself, as far as I can see. Wouldn't it have been better in the long run

to have stayed behind and faced this row—whatever it was?'

'I suppose so.' Morwenna bent her head over the steaming mug. 'But I just

couldn't stand any more, Biddy. I knew how angry he was going to be—and

I couldn't bear it.'

'Nick?' Biddy raised her eyebrows.

'Oh, no. Dominic,' Morwenna said quickly, and flushed hotly as Biddy's

expression changed from enquiry to an all too comprehensive

understanding.

'Oh,' she said, after a pause. 'So that's the way of it.'

'Yes,' Morwenna pushed her hair back rather defensively. 'Biddy—please

don't say anything to Mark.'

Biddy shook her head. 'I think the boot's on the other foot,' she said drily.

'Mark has already mentioned something of the sort to me.'

'Oh, no!' Morwenna was aghast. 'I thought no one knew.'

'Well, let's say he's had his suspicions.' Biddy smiled at her. 'It's not easy to

hide things from people who are living in the same house. When Mark and I

were having our difficulties, I tried to pretend to Greg that I wasn't in the

least concerned, but he wasn't fooled for a second.' She hesitated. 'Do you

want to tell me what happened, or is it too painful to talk about?'

'No,' Morwenna gave a little sigh. 'It's a long and complicated story, but as

you'll be joining the family, you'd have heard about it eventually anyway.'

Biddy listened without interruption as Morwenna recounted the facts from

her mother's departure from Trevennon years before to her abortive visit to

Barbie Inglis the previous day. The only thing she did not mention was

Dominic's lovemaking, but she guessed Biddy would be able to see the

points at which omissions were made from her sometimes stumbling

narrative and draw her own conclusions.

When she had finished, Biddy whistled thoughtfully. 'It's incredible,' she

said. 'I've always had Miss Inglis marked down as the stereotype English

gentlewoman, very correct and rather colourless. I never dreamed she'd be

capable of such passion, or such spite.' She stared frowningly into the fire for

a few minutes. 'It was bad luck that Dominic happened to be at the house at

the same time as you, but shouldn't you have stood your ground and

explained exactly what your motives were for being there?"

'I couldn't. I'd promised Nick that I wouldn't say anything to anyone else. He

wanted to protect her, I suppose.' She gave a little shiver. 'But Dominic was

so angry. It was only the previous night that he'd tried to get me to promise

to forget the whole thing. It must have seemed to him that I'd deliberately set

out to do quite the opposite, out of malice.'

'And you didn't tell Nick what had happened either?'

'No, I went straight to my room. I stayed there all evening, pretending I had a

headache.' She smiled rather wanly. 'I didn't have to pretend too hard. I—I

did my packing and wrote to Nick. Then I went to bed, but I didn't sleep very

well.'

'I can imagine,' Biddy muttered. 'And what was Dominic doing all this time?'

Morwenna bit her lip. 'He came back very late,' she said. 'Long after dinner

was over. I'd just got into bed and switched the light out, when I heard him

come upstairs. He came along to my room and tried the door, but I'd locked

it, so he had to knock. I—I didn't answer. I hoped he would think I was

asleep, but of course he didn't. He must have knocked for about five

minutes. Then he called to me and said he knew I was awake and that I

couldn't expect to stay in my room for ever, and he would see me in the

morning.'

Biddy grimaced. 'It was just as well you'd already done your packing. I think

after a message like that I'd probably have left half of my things behind.'

'I did leave one thing behind,' Morwenna said sadly. 'A little pearl ring that

belonged to my mother. I had it on my dressing table, but I couldn't find it

and I didn't have time to make another search this morning. I wanted to get

out of the house before anyone saw me.'

Biddy patted her hand. 'Well, you're here now, and all's well. We've got a

camp bed and we'll make it up in my room presently.' She hesitated. 'You

can stay there out of the way when Mark calls for us this evening, if that's

what you want. But you'll have to face him sooner or later.'

Morwenna nodded. 'I'll worry about that when it happens,' she said.

The afternoon seemed very long. She watched Biddy tie up her presents for

Mark and Greg, and thought rather wistfully of her own gifts which she had

placed neatly under the Christmas tree before she had left. They had an early

tea and listened to a carol service on the radio, then Biddy disappeared

mysteriously to make herself beautiful for the 'forthcoming ordeal', as she

put it.

Morwenna sat by the fire and sketched—the spikes of hyacinths in the bowl

Greg had made—the large important marmalade cat fast asleep in the

opposite chair after a dinner of giblets. She supposed there would come a

time when the thought of Dominic would no longer be paramount in her

mind, but that time would be far distant. He filled her mind, and his dark

face swam before her vision so that the image she was trying to create on the

page became distorted. She groaned impatiently as she crumpled up yet

another spoiled sheet and sent it spinning into the fire.

'I don't want to disturb you, but Mark will be here in five minutes.' Biddy

came into the room, a little self-conscious in a full-length wool jersey dress

in a charming sherry colour. She grinned, blushing a little, as Morwenna

complimented her sincerely on her appearance.

'Well, I had to make an effort. Your Dominic was charm itself when he

called here yesterday, but he's still a formidable character. He probably

expects me to arrive in a patchwork caftan and bare feet, with a flower in my

hair. Greg too,' she added, and Morwenna laughed at the image this conjured

up.

She got to her feet hurriedly at the sound of a car approaching, snatching up

her sketchbook and making for the short flight of stairs to the upper storey.

She whisked into Biddy's bedroom and half-closed the door. She heard the

cottage door open downstairs and the murmur of voices. She frowned. It did

not sound like Mark, but who else could it be? She pulled the door a little

further open and stood with her head bent, listening intently.

Biddy's voice floated clearly and sweetly to her ears. 'You say you've been in

touch with her family at the Priory, Mr Trevennon, and they have no idea

where she is? I hope your uncle isn't too worried.'

'Of course he's worried,' Dominic said. 'She's got her luggage, and a

half-return ticket to London, and no money from what we can gather. Mark

has been to the station to try and find someone who may have seen her, but

there were quite a few people travelling because of Christmas and no one

remembers her.' He paused and then said slowly, 'I suppose you have no idea

where she might be?'

Morwenna stood half paralysed, her nails digging deep into the palms of her

hands. Oh, Biddy, she thought desperately, don't give me away. The silence

seemed endless until Biddy said smoothly, 'None at all, I'm afraid. But I

shouldn't worry too much. A lovely girl like that is bound to have a lot of

friends she can turn to.'

Morwenna did not wait to hear Dominic's response to this. She crept across

to her bed and sat down, burying her face in her hands. Her imagination

must be playing her tricks, she thought dully as she heard the door below

slam and the car drive off. What other explanation was there for that note of

almost desperate appeal in Dominic's voice? She had to make herself realise

that he would be only too glad to be rid of her. If he was concerned, it was

for Nick.

She sighed and resolutely swallowed a chokingly painful lump in her throat.

Now that she was alone, she had to consider her future plans. She couldn't

really do very much at all until after Boxing Day, and then she would go to

London and find some sort of hostel accommodation. Dominic had been

right about the pitiful state of her finances, but she couldn't allow herself to

worry too much about that. She would find work somehow. Maybe she

would even find some kind of living-in job like a companion or mother's

help where she could paint in her spare time. There were all kinds of

possibilities, she told herself, trying to shut out of her ears the memories of

Dominic's voice with its unusual hesitancy.

The evening dragged by. She made some coffee and listened to the radio

again, although if anyone had asked questions on the programmes

afterwards, she would have been hard put to it to answer.

She found herself wondering restlessly what stage the dinner party at

Trevennon had reached. Had they reached the toasts yet? Were Dominic and

Karen standing hand in hand receiving everyone's congratulations and best

wishes? She wondered whether they would open their presents to each other

that evening, or keep them for the following day. And on the heels of that

thought came the passionate wish that she had, after all, left a present for