Dragons Lair. Sara Craven

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СКАЧАТЬ most sensible course to pursue under the circumstances, yet she felt uncertain. For one thing she was putting Gethyn’s aunt in a difficult position, and for another she would have to cope with Rhiannon’s open hostility. Gethyn, it seemed, had not been reticent about the past with his young cousin.

      ‘I don’t know,’ she said eventually. ‘It’s very kind of you, but I thought you said there was no room.’

      ‘Oh, but you’re family.’ Mrs Parry gave a quick, rather shy smile. ‘That makes all the difference. We can find a corner for you.’

      Davina bit her lip. To describe her as family under the circumstances was pitching it a bit high, but Mrs Parry clearly meant well and it would be churlish to reject the relationship or the hospitality, so she merely thanked her quietly.

      The room she was shown to was quite a large one at the back of the house, overlooking a small orchard with a glimpse of the river in the distance, and beyond that the steep outline of the mountain. It contained a wide brass bedstead covered in a Welsh tapestry counterpane, and matching curtains hung at the windows. There was a tall dressing chest in one corner topped by a mirror on a swivel, and a matching mahogany wardrobe on the other side of the room. There was a small table under the window and an elderly easy chair close beside it. The floorboards and furniture gleamed with polish and a faint fragrance of lavender hung in the room.

      ‘It’s delightful,’ Davina said after the first appreciative glance around.’

      ‘It’s a lovely old house,’ Mrs Parry agreed. She walked to the window and pulled back the curtain. ‘Nice view, too. It’s clear today, so you can actually see the Dragon.’

      ‘What did you say?’ Davina stared at her.

      Mrs Parry smiled. ‘Moel y Ddraig—that’s what it means. The bare hilltop of the dragon, and there he is, the old thing.’ She pointed upwards and Davina, intrigued, came to her side.

      It was quite true. The enormous crag which jutted out above the house could, with very little imagination, have been a petrified dragon. It was all there—the great thrusting head with its menacing horns, and the long clawed foot raised threateningly just beneath it. And if you half-closed your eyes, the great shadowy bulk of the hill seemed to become huge spreading wings …

      Davina wrenched herself back to reality with a jerk. She smiled. ‘I hope he’s a friendly dragon, otherwise he’d be rather too close for comfort!’

      Mrs Parry’s eyes twinkled suddenly. ‘Well, he’s never done me any harm. Now I am going to make some tea.’ She paused. ‘Would you like to have yours up here, perhaps?’

      Davina guessed that Rhiannon would probably be coming in to have tea and that this was a tactful intimation of the fact, and she agreed. The prospect of seeing Gethyn again had made her more keyed up than she had realised, and now she felt almost weak from anti-climax. She needed to relax and unwind for a while, and it would be far preferable to do so up here, out of Rhiannon’s hostile sight.

      Mrs Parry hesitated at the door. ‘I’m sorry Rhiannon’s behaving like this,’ she said frankly. ‘But she is very fond of Gethyn—always has been. But she’ll come round, I daresay. Maybe this is the best thing that could have happened.’ And on that, she vanished.

      Davina sat down in the easy chair and looked out on to the apple trees, their leaves moving gently in the slight breeze. She still could hardly believe that she was actually at Plas Gwyn. She leaned her head back on the cushions and closed her eyes, absorbing the sounds and silences of her new surroundings. She could hear the distant sound of the river, and superimposed upon it, closer at hand, the bleating of sheep and the sharp bark of a dog. Somewhere a horse whinnied with a restless stamp of hooves, and below her she could hear the homely clatter of cups and the rising whistle of a kettle.

      Presently, when she had had her tea, she would walk up to the car and fetch her case. It contained her night things and a change of underwear, but little more, and she wondered rather restlessly what she would do if Gethyn’s absence was a prolonged one. She sighed. That he would be away from home when she arrived was the last thing she had bargained for. It was almost as if he had guessed her intention and timed his absence accordingly, but that was nonsense, of course. He could have had no idea she was on her way.

      The bedroom door banged open and Rhiannon made her appearance, carrying, somewhat surprisingly, a tray of tea. Her eyes lowered sullenly, and her lips set, she marched across the room and deposited the tray on the table at Davina’s elbow.

      Davina decided to try another friendly overture. ‘What a charming room this is,’ she commented. ‘I hope I’m not putting anyone out by being here.’

      Rhiannon shrugged. ‘Only Gethyn, and he’s not here at the moment, it hardly matters, does it? Who knows? When he comes back, he may be putting you out.’

      The bedroom door slammed on her departure and Davina sat bolt upright on her chair, her attention utterly arrested by what the other girl had said. Then she jumped to her feet and went over almost feverishly to the dressing chest, tugging open a drawer at random. Her worst fears were confirmed. A pile of shirts, neatly folded and unarguably masculine, was revealed. The contents of the other drawers only served to hammer the lesson home. This was Gethyn’s room.

      A bright spot of humiliated colour burned in her cheeks. What could Mrs Parry have been thinking of? She must know what the situation was between Gethyn and herself—might even be aware that a divorce was projected, so how could she have put her in this room?

      Davina swallowed and closed the drawers, backing away from them. Then she caught at herself. She was being utterly ridiculous. She would have to spend one night in this room—two at the most depending on when Gethyn returned, and then she would be gone. It would probably be never necessary for him to know that she had slept in his room—in his bed. And she was being foolish to ascribe any ulterior motive to Mrs Parry. Gethyn’s aunt had obviously been disconcerted by her arrival and had probably reacted without thinking. Besides, if there was no other room available, what choice did she have? It was either this, or some makeshift on a floor somewhere—possibly Rhiannon’s room, and Davina shuddered at the prospect. She was being hysterical, she thought. She should be thankful for small mercies. At least she had a roof over her head for the night.

      But she still walked over to the bed and pulled back the counterpane. She relaxed perceptibly. The bed linen was crisp and fresh, clearly newly-changed. She knew, with an odd twist at the pit of her stomach, that it would have disturbed her to have to sleep in the same sheets as Gethyn had used, and she told herself defensively this was because he was now a stranger to her.

      But she knew, if she was honest, that that was not her real motive, and she turned away sharply, forcing herself to go back to the chair and sit down and pour herself a cup of tea. It wasn’t her favourite drink, but she supposed wryly it might help to steady her jumping nerves.

      Her pulses seemed to be behaving most oddly altogether, and she made herself sit quietly, trying to regain her control of herself. Anyone would think, she told herself, that the door was suddenly going to swing open and Gethyn was going to be standing there—as he had been that night more than two years before.

      Davina put up her hands to her face as if she was trying to blot out the images that presented themselves relentlessly to her teeming mind. But it was no use. She was incapable of stemming the flood of memory that rushed to engulf her.

      The bed in the honeymoon suite had been a very different affair—a wide, low divan with fluffy lace-trimmed pillows and a magnificent gold satin bedspread. She had sat at the dressing table СКАЧАТЬ