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Authors: Sara Seale

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He came and stood beside her on the steps of the temple, leaning carelessly against a pillar while his eyes appraised her curiously.


You appreciate beauty?

he said, but it was a statement rather than a question
and she made no reply.

My mother had the temple built because she loved the
magnolia. She used to come here a lot when we were children but my father never cared for the place.

Her eyes were questioning.


Is that why it

s been neglected?

she asked shyly, and had he, she would like to have added, shared his father

s indifference?


Perhaps. You disapprove of neglect?

The vivid blue of his steady regard disconcerted her.


I—I don

t know. It depends on what sort of neglect, doesn

t it?


Very true. Have you been neglected, Tina?

She looked puzzled and a little alarmed.


I don

t know,

she said again.

I don

t think so.

His smile was faintly sardonic.


What did you mean by that odd remark that it was nice to be able to come in to all meals? Did Belle starve you?

She laughed nervously.


Of course not, only—well, you see hotels are expensive if you

re on full board. We skipped lunch and sometimes tea. Belle had sandwiches and a drink. She said it was good for the figure.


I see. And what did you have?


Doughnuts—only sometimes I spent all my money on the pier—slot machines and things.


And fortune tellers.

He smiled suddenly and the grimness of his expression vanished.

I gather from Belle that you had not expected to find your dark stranger in the person of rich Cousin Craig.

She flushed hearing the sudden dryness in his voice.


She hadn

t seen you for years. Perhaps she had a wrong idea of you,

she said gently.


Very likely. I was never as quixotic as my brother,

he replied enigmatically.

You

d better come back to the house now and have that tea you look so much in need of.

They walked in silence, crossing patches of sunlight into fresh shadow until the house came into view beyond the last wide expanse of lawn, and the sense of lon
e
liness returned to Tina.


Cousin Craig, may I—may I go to that little temple, whenever I like?

she asked.


You don

t have to ask permission,

he replied a trifle impatiently.

I

ll get Zachary to clean the place up for you, if you like.


No,

she said quickly, adding at his glance of surprise:

I love it as it is—
just
as it is.

He did not reply and she glanced at his dark face with uncertainty. His silence might have held disapproval or merely indifference. She was conscious all at once of her untidy hair and the outgrown frock that was too short and awkwardness returned to her limbs as she joined her stepmother and Brownie at the tea-table.


The tea

s stone cold but there

s fresh coming,

Brownie remarked crossly.


Oh, please, you shouldn

t have bothered,

Tina began but Brownie gave her a discouraging look.


Don

t flatter yourself, miss,

she replied tartly,

the fresh is for Craig since he hadn

t the sense to leave you to find your own way home. Ring the bell, Craig, so Nellie will know you

re in.


You shall,

observed Craig gravely to Tina,

be allowed exactly one cup of tea out of my fresh pot.

Her mouth curved up in an uncertain smile and quite suddenly he smiled back at her then rang the bell for Nellie.

 

CHAPTER
THREE

I

IT was a long summer and, for Tina, a period marked by much uncertainty. She could not feel as Belle did that they belonged to Tremawvan, nor could she escape the conviction that, in his own time, Craig Pentreath would politely send them both packing. Belle had slipped easily enough into her nominal position as mistress of the house, but Tina did not share her belief that in time Craig would find her indispensable. Brownie had relinquished very little of the housekeeping and Belle was obliged to ask her for any stores which were kept locked in mysterious cupboards in the still-room. Belle took her place at the head of the table, but it was Brownie who gave orders to the servants in the dining-room, resisting the innovation of polished mahogany instead of a cloth, or candles on the table in place of a lamp.


New-fangled nonsense!

she would grumble scornfully.

Decent table-cloths have been used at Tremawvan ever since I

ve been here, and Craig likes a light he can see what he

s doing by at meal times.


Really!

Belle would exclaim angrily to Tina.

Brownie with her bourgeoise ideas! There

s no need for Craig to care so little for elegance because his father probably ate in the kitchen.

But Tina did not think that Craig cared nothing for elegance. His table, though old-fashioned, was well appointed, his servants admirably trained, and although his way of living lacked some of the more graceful elaborations which money would allow, there was nevertheless a pattern of formality at Tremawvan which permitted few changes and little slackness.

Tina saw little of Craig except in the evenings. He paid small attention to her except to accord her common courtesy in his position of host, but sometimes she would find his eyes on her when she least expected it, and for all his apparent lack of interest in her activities throughout the day he must have been more conversant with what went on in his absence than she had supposed.


I shouldn

t stop for lemonade at the Spanish Inn if I were you, Tina, he would remark with disconcerting abruptness.

Cornish people don

t understand the pub habit and you

re a little young anyhow.

There seemed to be many things he would prefer her not to do such as walking on the moors alone, speaking to tinkers in the road, and rowing herself without escort in a hired boat in Merrynporth Cove.


And if you must bathe in the stream on Tudy Down,

he observed on one occasion,

either buy a swimming suit or make sure that no one can see you.


Really, Craig! The poor child isn

t used to all this supervision,

laughed Belle,

I should have thought, buried out here in the wilds, one could pretty well please oneself.


Sixteen is hardly an age at which it is safe to please oneself regardless,

he retorted.

She shrugged but when Tina had gone to bed she said with a faintly malicious smile:


Yo
u
don

t have to take quite such a cousinly interest in my unfortunate stepchild, Craig. You embarrass the poor girl dreadfully. She went quite pink at the thought you might have seen her in her skin. Did you?

His eyes were very blue.


You don

t seem to have taken your own responsibility very seriously,

he replied, evading her question.

How, for instance, did you know who she might be picking up with on the pier when she ought to have been eating a square meal at home?

Belle looked annoyed.


So Tina

s been telling tales, has she?

she drawled.

Perhaps she also told you that we couldn

t afford to eat when we felt like it.


Oh, yes, she told me. Your lack of funds doesn

t seem to have affected your wardrobe. You

re very smart, Belle, which is more than I can say for Tina.


There

s time enough for Tina. What does a schoolgirl want with pretty clothes?


But she

s not a schoolgirl any longer, is she? Her father, I always understood, had left money for her education.


God, how smug you are when you talk about money!

Belle exclaimed bitingly.

You

re like all people who have it—you enjoy censuring others who haven

t. If you felt so strongly about it why couldn

t you have offered to pay the school fees when I wrote to you six months ago describing our position?

His face held a hint of her own anger but he replied dispassionately enough:


True, but at that time I scarcely expected to become involved in your private affairs. To tell you the truth I thought the threat of taking the girl away from school was simply made to enlist my sympathy.


You

re very hard, aren

t you? And why should I have imagined it would have made any difference to you that I
wasn

t left with sufficient money to educate a child you

d
never met?


Because,

said Craig, his mouth now as hard as hers,

you knew the same thing had happened to me.

She lowered her eyes.


Did you mind, then, being thrust into the mine when you were barely seventeen? Or was it jealousy because Keverne was allowed to finish his education and you were not?


I didn

t resent anything good that came to Keverne,

he said steadily.

Only the things which hurt him, as you should remember, Belle.


Oh, I know what blotted my copybook with the Pentreaths,

she said, then her irritation suddenly died.

And yet, you know, Craig, seeing you again after all this time, you

ve made a much better job of yourself
than
Keverne did, despite his education.


Do you think so?

he replied with polite disinterest.

Well, Belle, don

t forget that you yourself carry Pentreath blood. Perhaps there

s not so much to choose between any of us.


My father was not like Uncle Zion,

said Belle proudly.


He was no better for that, and your mother and my father were brother and sister.

His voice was stern, then he unexpectedly smiled.

Can

t you forget your more well-bred connections, Belle? The funny thing is that whe
n
people have natural breeding, they never think about it. Your little Tina

s a case in point.

She lowered her eyes again.


I didn

t think you noticed her,

she said colorlessly, and got to her feet.

I

m sorry if I

ve sounded scratchy and snobbish, Craig. As you say, we

re cousins, and I—well, I suppose I

m grateful for your hospitality at least, but like Tina, I suppose I

m embarrassed by charity. Good night.


Good night,

he replied and watched her out of the room with a curious expression.

Because if she did not relieve her mind of some of its resentment she would not sleep, Belle took a lighted candle and went to Tina

s room. The girl was asleep and for a moment her stepmother stood beside the bed watching the unconscious face which in unawareness had a hint of defencelessness which was rather touching. One arm was flung above her head, the fingers confidingly curled, and the long throat looked very white in the candlelight.
For an instant Belle saw her with Craig

s eyes and she put out a swift hand and shook her roughly by the shoulder.

Tina woke with a small, startled cry.


What is it? What

s happened?

she asked, sitting up in bed.


Nothing

s happened. I just want a word with you,

said Belle smoothly.


Oh!

T
ina
blinked up at her, admiring the lines of the smart new house-coat and the way Belle s hair, released from its pins, fell in thick, shining waves on her shoulders. How handsome she was with her gypsy coloring and her fine dark eyes, Tina thought, but she knew the signs. Belle was not pleased.


Have you been telling tales to my autocratic cousin?

she asked.

Tina blinked the sleep from her eyes.


To Cousin Craig?

she said, looking puzzled.

But he hardly ever speaks to me.


Well, he didn

t get the idea from me that you were half-starved and hadn

t any decent clothes.

Tina tried to remember.


I didn

t tell him I was half-starved. One day he said
looked as if I needed my tea, and I suppose he notices my clothes because my frocks are all too short. He—he seems to notice quite a lot,

she added, wondering suddenly if it had been Craig who had seen her bathing naked in the stream.

Belle looked at her, observing the quick color in her thin cheeks, and said deliberately:

BOOK: The Dark Stranger
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