Peacock's Walk (13 page)

Jenny could not have explained why she was so certain of this. She only knew it would be so, quite apart from the fact that Mark was not a man to be coerced into anything contrary to his nature, and forgiving did not come easy to him, as Jenny had good cause to know.

It would not take long for Dilys to realise that she might have gained a husband, but she had lost a friend. There would be no more teasing comments or smiles of indulgence such as she had received from Mark in all the years she had known him. To suddenly find herself out in the cold after being

treated as Mark had himself said as, 'one of the family', would be a hurtful experience for her, and having experienced it herself, Jenny could well understand the effect it would eventually have on Dilys, who had been as coddled and watched over as Jenny had all through her life.

As far as the 'out in the cold' treatment was concerned, Jenny came in for her share too. It wasn't so much as what was said as the way he seemed to delegate all responsibility for what had happened to her account. Which was grossly unfair, she felt, since none of it would-have happened if he hadn't put in a bid for Peacock's Walk—or tried to use her as a cover against Dilys's determined pursuit of a hopeless dream that would give her no happiness even though she had now attained it.

It was a kind of silent rebuke that lay heavily in the atmosphere between them in the office, and Jenny longed to shout out that it was none of her doing, and would he please stop blaming her, but as nothing was said, she was forced to hold her peace. It was a miserable situation all round. The only consolation, if it could be called a consolation, was that there was so much to do in the clearing-up process. Claims to be made out, and rebuilding on the first floor a priority, although it would not have surprised Jenny if Mark had decided against using the house as a hotel in the future, but to all intents and purposes it seemed he would, since he had given instructions for the work to be carried out at the earliest possible opportunity.

At least Jenny was saved the embarrassment of

having to probe into the cause of the fire, particularly as she suspected Dilys had somehow had a hand in it. That was up to Mark now, and she was in no position to satisfy her curiosity, even if she had wanted to. As it was, she felt the least said the soonest mended—if anything could be mended now, she thought miserably.

Mark's silent accusations had awakened her conscience over the letter Malcolm had left her, and try as she did, she couldn't dismiss a feeling of guilt that she had not shown it to Mark. That he proposed again to her had given her much cause for concern. There was just a chance that Silas Hawter had been right in that she had hurt Mark, and that he still loved her. Her breath caught in her throat when she recalled the way he had swept into her room and carried her out to safety on the night of the fire. Even though her rooms were on the ground floor, and she was not in any real danger at that time—but she had been his first thought ... Her eyes were bright with tears as she acknowledged the truth.

He loved her, and she loved him, and what a time to make such a discovery I Hard on this sombre thought came the realisation of Mark's feelings when he learnt of the contents of Malcolm's letter. She swallowed convulsively; he mustn't ever know of its existence! Of how all the bitterness and loneliness could have been avoided—of the months they had spent apart—of the tears she had shed, and her failure to understand or believe in his love for her—that part would be the most hurtful, she knew.

She also knew why she had never destroyed the

letter. She had never been able to admit to herself before that one day she would show it to him. All along she had kept that dream alive deep in the recesses of her mind, but she hadn't fooled Tony or Dodie when she had announced herself heart-free. It seemed they knew her a little better than she had known herself.

The staff's shocked reaction to the fire, those who lived out, that was, and arrived to find the remains of a charred first floor and all the resultant chaos—even if it was organised chaos—was almost numbed by another shock before the day was out. In spite of Mark's disobliging manner towards making an announcement of the engagement, Dilys refused to be discouraged, and took every opportunity of referring to Mark as 'my fiance'—in his absence, of course, for Jenny doubted whether she would have been quite so bold in his presence, particularly after the cold reception he had afforded her that morning.

The news, as Jenny had known it would, had spread like wildfire through the hotel. There was not one member of staff who had not been aware of the fact that their new boss was a 'marked' man, for there was very little that they missed, and the way Dilys had 'haunted' him had, Jenny suspected, started a betting tote below stairs. She could even hazard a guess at the odds—of Mark evading the net so flagrantly flung in his direction, and there was no doubt that he would have gone down in their estimation at his apparent easy capture.

The only one who would derive satisfaction from this state of affairs would be Tony, she thought

sadly, but in this she had wronged him, for at lunch that day he was even more morose than ever. 'That filly should have been given a firm hand years ago,' he muttered darkly. 'Easy to see she's never gone short of anything. Think she started the fire?' he asked Jenny suddenly.

Jenny looked up startled, and toyed with her dessert spoon before answering, to give herself time to think. It was more or less what she had suspected herself, but to actually say so might not be a good thing at this stage. She didn't know for certain, and if it had occurred to her and Tony, it would certainly have occurred to Mark, and it was up to him to take it from there—not that there was much he could do about it; he was not likely to press charges under the circumstances. With a light shrug she answered slowly, 'I don't know, Tony. We're lucky that the fire was contained on the first floor, and no casualties. It could have been much worse,' she reminded him in an effort to channel his thoughts elsewhere.

In this she was almost successful, but his gloomy, 'Never thought I'd feel sorry for Chanter, but he didn't stand a chance, did he?' remark just before he left her proved that his thoughts had not been diverted for long.

When he had gone, jenny sat for a long time staring at the remains of her now cold sweet. What appetite she might have had had now deserted her, since she had only gone down to lunch to give herself a change of scene from the empty office, and stop the miserable thoughts that threatened to over-

whelm her. After his first brief appearance in the office that morning, Mark had spent the rest of the time inspecting the damage, and Jenny did not expect him back that day, but knew he was around somewhere.

Quite apart from the amount of work that had to be supervised, she suspected he was keeping out of Dilys's way. The way she had breezed into the office to see him early on showed either a remarkable lack of sensitivity on her part, or a need to brazen it out, she mused. Perhaps she had wanted to determine Mark's mood, and if that were so, then she had been left in no doubt of his feelings.

A faint hope by Jenny that Dilys might gracefully bow out of the bizarre situation she had placed both Mark and herself in was quashed when Dilys sought her out later that day.

It was a meeting that Jen
had done her best to avoid, and Dilys knew it, for she must have hoped to find her in the office, but knowing Mark was unlikely to need her services that afternoon, Jenny had kept herself busy helping Lodie and the staff in the business of retrieval and cleaning up of some of the not too badly burnt furniture. In all, only three bedrooms had been affected, and only two of them needed complete redecoration. Most of the damage had been confined to the corridor which had consisted of oak panelling now beyond repair—the same with the three bedroom doors, but as Jenny had told Tony, it could have been much worse.span>

A tap on her door not long after she had finished work for the day announced that the peace that she

had hoped to enjoy was about to be shattered, and with a nasty feeling that she knew the identity of her visitor, Jenny answered the summons.

On seeing Dilys, she groaned inwardly, and much as she would have liked to have made some excuse for not asking her in, she knew the confrontation would have to come sooner or later, and she wanted to get it over with. Dilys wanted to justify her actions, of that jenny had no doubt, but it was her uncle she ought to be making justification to, for he had witnessed the whole embarrassing affair, and as understanding as he was, it was unlikely that he would condone his niece's conduct.

Dilys's voice, and the way her mouth had a certain stiffness about it, told Jenny of her state of mind, and her first words confirmed her feelings.

'I suppose, like Mark, you think I started the fire?' she blurted out as soon as Jenny had closed the door behind her.

Jenny's eyebro ,,hot up at this bald accusation, and she wondered if Mark had actually charged Dilys with it. 'Has Mark said so?' she countered quietly.

'No, he hasn't!' snapped Dilys, 'but the way he's avoiding me shows just what he thinks about it, and you've been busy making yourself scarce. I went to to the office several times today, but you were nowhere to be found.' She bit her lips hard to stop them trembling. 'Even Uncle Silas doesn't believe I had nothing to do with it,' she swallowed, 'even when I told him how it was.' Her eyes bright with unshed tears met Jenny's defiantly. `So I'm telling you too.

I don't care what you think about what happened between Mark and me.' She gave an over-casual shrug that belied her words and showed Jenny that she did care, very much, but was doing her best to hide it.

Jenny nodded towards the settee. 'Sit down, Dilys. I'm going to, I'm tired. When I wasn't in the office, I was helping the staff to clean up some furniture—not, as you seem to think, keeping out of your way. There is an awful lot to do, you know,' she added as matter-of-factly as possible, pushing down the urge to lecture her on her shotgun tactics to secure a husband. There was also the fact that Dilys did not know that Jenny had been within earshot and had witnessed how a proposal had been wrung from Mark, and she wondered if Dilys would try to gloss over this unpalatable fact.

The calm statement somewhat soothed Dilys, and she took up Jenny's offer of a seat, and sat for a moment or two in silence while she marshalled her thoughts, her nervous fingers entwining the leather thongs of her dress belt. She was not dressed in evening wear, Jenny noticed, and that meant that she was not having dinner with Mark, or her uncle, presumably, for by now dinner would be almost over. Jenny knew arrangements had been made to provide meals for the staff, and Mark had made arrangements for Silas and Dilys to be provided with an evening meal until other arrangements had been made for them.

'I know how the fire began,' Dilys said in a low voice, her gaze now intent on the hem of her dress.

'But I didn't do anything about it.' Her eyes left the hem and met Jenny's. 'I guess, as far as that goes, I'm partially to blame. But I didn't start it.' She smoothed her dress over her knees carefully before she began again. 'Someone had thrown a cigarette end into one of those fancy canisters you keep in the corridor. I suppose there must have been some paper tissues in there that caught alight. Anyway, I saw it was smouldering when I went to the bathroom at about one o'clock.'

Her glance met Jenny's again, and there was such a look of naked misery in it that Jenny wanted to wince. 'I wasn't feeling too happy at the time,' she went on in the same low voice, 'and Peacock's Walk could burn to the ground for all I cared.' Her voice was firmer at this juncture as she relived her feelings at that time. 'I knew we were going home the next day,' she swallowed quickly, 'so it didn't matter, nothing mattered.'

Jenny listened, but did not comment on this bald statement. The thought that lives might have been lost did not apparently occur to her, but in this she had wronged Dilys.

'I never thought the fire would take such a hold,' she said simply. 'When Uncle Silas banged on my door a short while later, I was horrified, and frightened that if anyone died, it would be my fault for not reporting it, or at least trying to put the fire out. It 'was such a tiny flare when I saw it, I didn't dream . .' Her voice trailed off here.

'Well, thank goodness, no one was hurt,' Jenny said consolingly, for there was no doubt that Dilys

must have gone through a bad time at that stage.

Dilys nodded, and 'swallowed again, and Jenny knew she would tell the whole of it, and not try to cover up her subsequent actions. Jenny would have liked to have stopped her there, but she realised Dilys's need to talk about it, she would not have received a favourable hearing from either Mark or her uncle, and in the circumstances could hardly have expected one, and that left Jenny, who would rather not learn the whys and wherefores at this stage. It was enough for her to understand that Dilys had been a very frightened girl as well as an extremely unhappy one. It was small wonder, she thought with an inward sigh, that she had behaved as she had.

Dilys's gaze left Jenny and she concentrated her attention on the tip of her expensive shoes before continuing. 'I did leave the room when Uncle Silas came to get me,' she said in a low whisper. 'I got as far as the stairs,' she gulped as she looked back up at Jenny. 'There were a few people ahead of me,' she shrugged lightly, 'I suppose they'd been aroused by the other staff, and I wondered where Mark was.' She was silent for a second, then began again. 'Then I saw him—just as I got to the top of the stairs—he had you in his arms.' Her voice thickened with emotion. 'And you weren't even on the same floor—you weren't in any d-danger—
yet it was you he'd g-gone to
look after. He d-didn't care about me.'