HIGH TIDE AT MIDNIGHT (8 page)

fantasy world about her time at Trevennon for some reason best known to

herself. Perhaps she hadn't wanted to face facts either, Morwenna thought

unhappily.

The young man was speaking again. 'Well, if you must rush away, then I

suppose it can't be helped. But do drive carefully. A tree came down on our

road tonight. Jacky Herrick was moving it with his tractor as I drove down,

but there might be others.'

She smiled at him with an effort. 'Perhaps it's just as well that I haven't a car,'

she said, trying to speak lightly. 'I presume there will still be buses on the

main road.'

'Yes, but they're few and far between." He studied her for a moment with

undisguised curiosity, then swung towards Dominic Trevennon who had

been listening to the interchange with a faint sneering smile playing about

his lips.

'Dom, what's going on here? You aren't seriously suggesting that she should

walk all the way back to the main road on a night like this—not when we've

got half a dozen empty bedrooms.'

Oh, please." Morwenna intervened, alarmed. 'I really must be going. I've

made arrangements…'

'Then you must let me take you in my car." He gave her a smile of such

charm that she felt warmed by it in spite of everything that had happened.

'Where are you staying? The Towers in Port Vennor?'

'Er—no.' Morwenna thought rapidly. 'As a matter of fact, I'm staying with

some friends. But you really don't need to put yourself out.'

'I'm not. Dom, don't just stand there. Tell her that she's not putting us to any

trouble. What's the matter with you? You surely weren't going to let her

simply trudge off into the night, for God's sake?'

Dominic Trevennon raised his eyebrows coolly. 'Frankly, it didn't seem to

be any of my concern,' he said offhandedly. 'In any case, Miss Kerslake has

already impressed me as a young lady more than capable of looking after

herself.'

'Miss—Kerslake?'

Dominic Trevennon nodded. 'You heard me correctly— and your

assumption is equally correct. And as introductions now seem to be in order,

Miss Kerslake. this is my younger brother Mark.'

His handshake was warm enough, but Morwenna already sensed a faint air

of withdrawal in his manner. The younger brother had an easy forthright

charm which his elder totally lacked, she thought, smouldering.

She said very sweetly and politely, 'If after my dire identity is disclosed to

you, the offer of a lift is no longer forthcoming, I shall quite understand.'

'What? I mean—oh, no.' Mark Trevennon looked hot with embarrassment.

'I'll take you wherever you wish to go—just as soon as you're ready.'

Without another word or glance in Dominic Trevennon's direction, she

walked into the hall. After a moment Mark joined her and they walked

together to the front door.

A battered-looking Mini was parked in the shadow of the outbuildings.

Mark unlocked the passenger door and helped her in punctiliously, stowing

her rucksack on the back seat.

As he got into the driver's seat, Morwenna said rather awkwardly, 'I'm sorry

about all this. I had no idea until I arrived here this evening that there'd been

any kind of rift.'

He smiled tightly. 'It must have been a nasty shock for you,' he said, turning

on the ignition.

'The thing is,' Morwenna gripped her hands together in her lap, 'I still don't

know what it is my mother is supposed to have done. Mr Trevennon—your

brother—was talking in terms of misery and ruined lives. I can hardly

believe we're talking about the same person. I was only a child when my

mother died, but I just don't remember her as—a destroyer. She was a very

warm, creative person. She drew people to her.'

'Perhaps that was the trouble.' Mark peered forward through the windscreen

frowning a little.

'What do you mean?'

He shrugged uneasily. 'Oh, forget, it. I honestly don't think anything will be

gained by going over old ground. I'm sorry if Dom gave you a tough time,

but things haven't been exactly easy for him, either. Your arrival on the

scene must have seemed the last straw in many ways. Why did you come, by

the way?'

Morwenna bent her head and stared down at her clasped hands. 'I wanted

your brother to store some paintings for me,' she replied tonelessly.

He^ave her a sharp sideways look. 'You mean some of your mother's work?'

When she nodded, he gave a short explosive whistle. 'My God, that would

really have put the cat among the pigeons!'

'And yet I'm never to know why.' Morwenna gave a mirthless smile, and

then paused, pressing her hands against her whitening face. 'I'm

sorry—please, can you turn the car round? I have to go back to the house.'

'Why, for heaven's sake?' Mark braked and brought the Mini to a halt by the

side of the road. He sent her an impatient glance. 'I really don't advise it.'

'I don't need your advice," Morwenna said tautly. 'Believe me, if I had any

choice I would never go near the place again, but it so happens I've left the

paintings there— in the study on your brother's desk. He—he was looking at

them, and later—when all the fuss began—I simply forgot all about them. I

just wanted to get out of the house as quickly as possible."

Mark paused, his brows drawn together in a sharp frown. Then he gave a

little sigh. 'Look, love, I think we'd better stick to the present'plan and get

you to your destination. Dom will deal with any problems at Trevennon, and

we'll bring the paintings over to you first thing in the morning. How's that?'

Morwenna shook her head. 'I'd prefer to fetch them now.' Her voice was flat.

'But it seems that I have no choice.'

'This way is best, believe me.' Mark gave her a placatory smile as he set the

car in motion again.

'Again, I'll just have to take your word for it.' She could not keep a note of

bitterness from her voice. 'I didn't realise I was such a—pariah.'

'You're not. It's nothing to do with you personally at all —oh, hell!' Mark

made a ferocious gear change, revealing that he was not using the necessary

concentration. 'Look, do you know anything about boats?'

Morwenna shook her head. 'Nothing at all. I'm not a sailor.'

He sent her a guarded look. 'Well, did you ever hear the
Lady Laura

mentioned when you were a child?'

Morwenna stared at him. 'Of course not. My mother was Lady Kerslake,

not…'

'No,' he shook his head impatiently. 'You don't understand. The
Lady Laura

wasn't a person. She was a boat, although admittedly she was named for

your mother. She was a very new, almost revolutionary design for a sailing

dinghy, and Uncle Nick designed her. He'd been in the Navy during the war,

and when he came back to Trevennon when it was over he persuaded my

father to go in with him and buy a small boatyard in Port Vennor. I won't

bore you with all the details, but eventually after a number of setbacks they

started to do quite well. But you may know all this already?'

'No—definitely not. My mother told me a lot about this area, but she never

mentioned anything about a boatyard.' She could not prevent the instinctive

wistfulness in her voice. 'She made Trevennon sound wonderful. All her

memories were happy ones.'

'Is that a fact?' Mark raised a wry eyebrow. 'Then she must have had an

endless capacity for self-deception as well.'

'As well as what?'

'As well as the ability to deceive other people.' Mark's voice was hard. 'I'm

sorry if you don't like it, but you did want to know, remember. Laura

Kerslake—Laura War- render as she was when she came to

Trevennon—had an amazing ability to win people over—fascinate them,

accept their affection and their love and then use it against them. See how

much I know about her, and I wasn't even born when she came to

Trevennon. She made—a deep impression on everyone here. We're still

recovering from the effects of it, psychologically and financially.'

Morwenna stared at him, her lips parted. 'I can't believe we're talking about

the same person,' she murmured, half to herself.

'Oh yes, we are,' Mark said almost savagely. 'She grew up here and she

watched the boatyard grow too. When she went, she left Uncle Nick a

broken man and the business in ruins.' He flung his head back. 'Did you

know she was going to marry Uncle Nick?'

'No!' Morwenna was aghast. 'I thought—I always believed my father had

been the only man in her life.'

Mark shrugged. 'Maybe he was. But she had Uncle Nick on a string as well.

The
Lady Laura
was to be his wedding present to her. Everyone knew that,

just as they knew that once it went on the market it would make the fortune

of Trevennon Marine. But then your father came on the scene. He was

spending a holiday locally and they met. He came to the house

regularly—he was a visitor and a welcome one. No one realised there was

anything going on until they ran away together. They didn't even have the

courage to stay and face the music, but that wasn't all. We soon found out

why—or Uncle Nick did when he went down to the yard. The design and

specifications for
Lady Laurt
had vanished from his office.'

'And you think my mother—oh, I don't believe it!'

'Uncle Nick didn't want to believe it either. He insisted that they must have

been mislaid, but he soon discovered his mistake when he went to the Boat

Show and saw
Lady Laura.
Oh, she wasn't called that, naturally, and the

crowd who'd made her—a big concern on the south coast—had used

cheaper materials, but it was Uncle Nick's boat. It went into mass production

shortly afterwards. Legally, of course, Trevennon Marine hadn't a leg to

stand on. Uncle Nick couldn't prove that his design had been pirated, but he

knew and so did the sharks who'd bought it. Their sales manager was

laughing all over his face. All's fair, he told Uncle Nick, in love and

business. Said he ought to be more choosy about his lady-friends.'

'Oh, God!' Morwenna was appalled. 'So—what happened?'

Mark sighed. 'Trevennon Marine nearly went bankrupt. We'd invested

heavily on the strength of the
Lady Laura,
bought up the adjoining

properties so that we could expand, taken on more men. It all had to go. And

there were bank loans to be repaid. My father had to sell off some of our

land. But the hardest thing for Uncle Nick to bear was that this whole mess

had been perpetrated by the woman he loved. He's never really got over it.

So now you can see why your arrival at Trevennon wasn't exactly greeted

with open arms.'

Morwenna was silent for a long time. Then at last she said, 'I don't believe it.

You never knew her—you've admitted as much. She wasn't a—guilty

person. She couldn't have borne a load of mischief like that for all those

years without letting something show. Unless you're trying to suggest my

father was her accomplice and that they both managed to cover up what

they'd done.'

Mark looked uncomfortable. 'We never really knew what part he played in

it. To make matters worse he was on the point of becoming engaged to

someone else—a local girl, a* friend of the family. You can imagine the

scandal this whole thing caused in a small community like this.'

'Yes.' Morwenna felt numb. The situation was swiftly assuming nightmare

proportions, but she made herself hang on to what she believed to be the

reality in spite of anything she had been told. 'I've heard everything you've

said, Mark, and I've tried my best to take it in." She shook her head

helplessly. 'But it's no use. I can't equate the woman I remember—or my

father either—with such sly, needless cruelty. Perhaps they did

elope—people can't always help their feelings, after all—but-they would

never have compounded the injury by selling out Trevennon Marine. There

would have been no need.'Mark made a small defensive gesture. 'The

evidence suggests that they—or rather she—did,' he said quietly.

'Then the evidence is wrong,' Morwenna said fiercely. 'Did anyone ever

contact my mother—ask her for an explanation?'

'No.' Mark gave her a surprised glance. 'As you can imagine, no one in the

family ever wanted to speak to her or hear from her again. Uncle Nick

wouldn't even allow anyone into the room she had used. He locked it up and

took the key away and none of us have been in there since. I think he may

have been in there sometimes—until he became ill, of course.'

'What's the matter with him?'

'He had a slight stroke. There was some paralysis at first, but fortunately it

wasn't too serious and he's been recovering -with physiotherapy. But you

must understand that Dom couldn't allow you to see him. We couldn't risk