Witching Hour (22 page)

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Authors: Sara Craven

BOOK: Witching Hour
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staring at it, fighting feelings which threatened to overwhelm her.

Even in this comparatively short time, Elaine seemed to be very

sure of herself and Lyall. Time alone would show whether this

certainty was justified, and she would have to sit it out, trying not

to betray by any word, look or gesture just how deeply her own

emotions were involved.

She went back slowly to the kitchen where Elsa was waiting with

some impatience to put a plate of steak and kidney pie in front of

her.

'Now you eat that every scrap,' she adjured, standing over Morgana

with her hands on her hips. 'You'm eating like a bird these days,

and don't think I haven't noticed.'

'I'm really not very hungry.' Morgana reluctantly picked up her

fork.

'No, nor very happy either—but there's better things on the way,

maid.' Elsa gave a portentous nod. 'I looked at your tea-leaves this

morning, when breakfast was done, and I saw a wedding ring

there, clear as clear.'

Morgana gave a faint smile. 'I'm sorry to disappoint you, Elsa, but

I'm not contemplating marriage.'

'Nor will you, till you'm asked,' Elsa pointed out reasonably. 'But

there's a young man hungering for you at this very moment, and

he'll be popping the question before you'm much older, take my

word for it. The leaves don't lie, my lover.'

'Sometimes I wish they did,' Morgana said with a little sigh. She

forced down another mouthful of savoury meat and rich shortcrust

pastry, and nearly choked on an errant crumb as she noticed what

was draped across the ironing board nearby.

'That dress,' she exclaimed. 'What's it doing down here?'

Elsa shrugged. 'I'm just giving it .a little press. You can't go a party

in a dress all creases.'

'But I'm not wearing it,' Morgana protested.

'Why ever not?' Elsa demanded. 'It's a proper handsome dress, and

you won't see another like it.'

'That's the point,' Morgana said ruefully. 'I think I'd prefer to be

lost in the crowd.'

'No sense to that, far as I can see,' Elsa sniffed. 'You wear it, maid,

and knock your young man's eye out, just like your grandma

before you.' She lifted the gown carefully from the ironing board

and held it up in front of her. "Tes your colour and all,' she added

wheedlingly. 'And you can't waste all the work I've put in on it.'

'Which, of course, is the crunch,' Morgana conceded drily. 'All

right, Elsa, have it your way. I'll wear the blasted thing. Just don't

hope for too much. Perhaps men were more easily pleased in my

grandmother's day.'

'And perhaps they weren't,' Elsa returned contemptuously. 'That's

something that don't alter.'

Perhaps not, Morgana thought, but circumstances did, and her

grandmother's happy love story with its lack of complication in no

way resembled her own.

The same thought came back to haunt her, when, dressed for the

party, she stood in front of her mirror that evening. She had been

sparing with cosmetics, concentrating on adding extra shadow and

allure to her deeply lashed eyes, and the coolly exotic results, she

thought critically, fully justified the effort she had made. It seemed

a pity to have to cover the dress with her old grey cape. Black

velvet lined with emerald green would have been far more

appropriate.

Rob was waiting for her in the hall, tapping his foot impatiently,

but he smiled when he saw her coming down the stairs. His brows

rose slightly as he spotted the hem of the green silk.

'Looks intriguing,' he commented. He moved' as if to open the grey

cape, but she forestalled him.

'No—I want to surprise you.'

'You do that all the time.' He ran a caressing finger down the line

of her cheek, and she was hard put to it not to flinch away.

'Shall we go?' She smiled up at him, making an effort.

'Yes, of course.' He hesitated. 'Elaine's waiting in the car. We're

giving her a lift to the Templetons'.'

'Oh.' Morgana bit her lip. She didn't particularly want to face

Elaine, who had rung up twice more during the afternoon in a

plainly deteriorating temper. 'She—she didn't hear from Lyall?'

'A message from a secretary to say he couldn't make it.' He

frowned. 'Pretty casual, I must say. Fortunately Jimmy

Templeton's home on leave at the moment, and he's an old-flame

of hers, so she won't lack consolation.'

But Elaine displayed scant signs of being consoled. She barely

spoke to Morgana as she got into Rob's car, and remained silent

during the drive to the Templetons' house.

It was a large Georgian building, set squarely at the end of a long

gravelled drive, and hidden from the road by a plantation of young

trees. Coloured lights had been festooned from these, and

grotesque turnip lanterns illuminated the gravel sweep in front of

the house.

Lucy Templeton, a tall, rather horsy girl with a loud laugh,

welcomed Rob and Elaine effusively, and Morgana rather more

coolly.

'Darling, how utterly lousy for you,' she bawled at Elaine. 'Still,

your loss is Jimmy's gain, I suppose. Rob, my sweet!' She flew at

him, twining her arms round his neck and giving him a lavish kiss.

'How simply marvellous! Long time no see,' she added in a lower

tone.

Morgana was made uncomfortably aware that before Rob had

started dating herself he had been seeing quite a lot of Lucy

Templeton. He'd always given the impression that there had been

nothing serious between them, but now she couldn't help

wondering whether this had also been Lucy's view. Somehow, as

she watched the avid way the other girl's eyes fixed on his face,

she doubted it. She wished it was possible to take one's hostess to

one side and say, 'Look—you want him? You have him.' But to do

so would be to offer an intolerable insult to both Rob and Lucy.

Elaine had already stalked on ahead to leave her coat in the

bedroom which Lucy had designated as the cloakroom. When

Morgana entered, she was seated at the vanitory unit adding a last

touch of gloss to her already perfect mouth. The look she sent

Morgana in the mirror was enough to chill the blood.

She said, 'I suppose you're feeling very pleased with yourself.'

'Not particularly,' Morgana said wearily, unfastening her cape and

putting it down on the bed with the others. 'I don't suppose you'll

believe me, but I'm sorry Lyall let you down.'

Elaine gave a mirthless laugh. 'Your sympathy is about the last

thing I want! And it's quite unnecessary, I assure you. If and when

Lyall does turn up, he'll learn that I don't sit around waiting for any

man.' She thrust her glosser back into her evening bag, and closed

it with a. sharp click, before getting up abruptly and leaving the

room.

Morgana let her shoulders sag a little in a kind of relief. She and

Elaine had never been friends, but now the atmosphere between

them was positively abrasive. She opened her bag and took out the

little cap which matched her dress, and the drift of chiffon veil,

and arranged it on her hair. Elaine, she had noticed, had not been

wearing any kind of fancy dress. Her raw silk evening gown

belonged strictly to the present day, and relied less on Hallowe'en

magic than on the more potent allure of a deeply slashed neckline,

emphasising the fullness of her breasts.

Morgana sighed. She wished with all her heart that she had also

worn an ordinary dress, instead of being tempted to enter the

realms of fantasy. But it is a fancy dress party, she tried to bolster

her waning confidence, and I won't be the only one making a fool

of myself.

But when she emerged rather shyly from the bedroom to find Rob

waiting for her, the dazed expression in his eyes told her more

clearly than any words that she was far from making a fool of

herself.

He said unsteadily, 'My God, you look fantastic!'

'Well, don't sound so surprised,' she said teasingly. 'At midnight I

change back into my usual rags, so we'd better go and find this

party before the witching hour strikes.'

No expense had been spared to ensure that the guests who

thronged the ground floor should enjoy themselves, Morgana soon

realised. One of the rooms had been turned into a disco, with the

equipment providing the music set on a raised platform at one end,

where a cauldron steamed over a mock fire. The walls had been

draped in black, and what lighting there was had been diffused

through green filters. In the nearby dining room, a magnificent

buffet had been laid out, and from a bar in the corner of the

drawing room Mr Templeton, Lucy's father, was dispensing drinks

with a lavish hand as an alternative to the deliciously spiced

mulled wine being provided in the main hall. Nor had the younger

ones been forgotten. Bobbing for apples was going on,

accompanied by a lot of splashing and squeals of delight in a

corner of the hall.

As Morgana had suspected, nearly all the girls at the party had

opted for witches' gear, while Rob, in an evening cloak, and

appropriate smears of tomato ketchup, was one of a number of

Draculas among the men.

Morgana's own costume caused something of a stir, and a number

of people, including Mrs Templeton, admired it, and asked her

where she had got it.

'You're the loveliest girl here tonight,' Rob murmured to her at one

point as they stood watching the dancers.

She smiled slightly. 'Lovelier than your sister?' She indicated

where Elaine shimmered in her exotic golden silk, her arms twined

provocatively round the neck of a clearly besotted Jimmy

Templeton.

'Oh, Elaine has her moments,' he admitted casually. 'But it's you

that's knocking everyone's eyes out tonight. You must have

noticed, or have you only eyes for me?' It was said jokingly, but

Morgana could not miss the serious, rather wistful note in his

voice, and wondered if Rob was aware just how many times her

glance had strayed towards the front door each time it opened to

admit a new guest.

'Only for you,' she said quickly, but keeping her voice light.

'That's good.' His own tone deepened, became husky. His arm

closed possessively round her waist, and he drew her nearer,

bending towards her so that his breath fanned her ear persuasively.

'You know how I feel about you, don't you, darling? I wasn't going

to say anything—not so soon after your father's death, but I've got

to tell you.'

'Oh, Rob!' Something very like panic tightened her throat. 'Not

here--not now.'

'I don't want an answer now,' he insisted softly but vehemently.

'Just think over what I've said, darling, that's all I ask. I won't rush

you. I'll wait until you can be sure—until you're ready. After all,

you don't want to work for Lyall van Guisen. I know you don't.

I've seen your face every time it's been mentioned.'

Morgana made a wry face. 'So you're offering me an acceptable

alternative?'

'It's more than that, and you know it. I love you, Morgana, and I

want to marry you.' He paused, and then said with a trace of

irritation, 'For God's sake let's get away from this row and find

somewhere we can talk privately.'

His hand gripped her arm, urging her to go with him, but she

resisted.

'Don't be silly,' she protested with a little laugh. 'We're at a party.

There's no privacy anywhere. I don't understand you tonight, Rob.

You've never been like this before.'

'And neither have you,' he countered rather roughly. 'I've always

found you attractive, Morgana. I've always wanted you. But

tonight you're beautiful. You've hexed me—got right under my

skin. Tell me that you feel the same—that you'll think about what

I've said.'

'I'll think about it,' she promised painfully. 'But— Rob—I feel so

confused these days. I can't guarantee that I'll ultimately want the

same as you.'

'I don't want any guarantees,' he denied instantly. 'I love you, and I

know I can make you love me in return.'

Morgana moved restively, aware that several curious glances were

coming their way and also that Elaine and Jimmy were

approaching, followed by a sulky-looking Lucy and a young man

Morgana only knew by sight.

'Now then, you two!' Jimmy boomed cheerfully. 'You look far too

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