Shadow Of Desire. Sara Craven

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СКАЧАТЬ you don’t mean to spend your days as a junior Mrs Danvers. Marriage, I suppose, when the right man comes along.’

      ‘Perhaps,’ she said, also trying for a neutral tone, but she failed because involuntarily an image of Toby filled her mind, and the colour flared in her cheeks.

      There was a pause, then he said very drily, ‘The more I hear, the more convinced I am that I should send you packing. Couldn’t this sister of yours put you up until you find somewhere?’

      ‘No.’ Her eyes sought his in dismay, but there was nothing for her comfort in his dark face. There was a remoteness about him, and even a suppressed anger suddenly.

      She said in a subdued tone, ‘I’d better be going. Aunt Mary will be wondering where I am. Shall—shall I finish making your bed before I go?’

      ‘I think I can manage to add tie quilt unaided,’ he said flatly.

      ‘Very well.’ Ginny lifted her chin. ‘I’ll be over in the morning to see to the fires. Whatever you ultimately decide about me I—I shall continue to carry out the duties I’m being paid for until I leave.’

      ‘Bravo,’ he approved sardonically. ‘I doubt if even the actress sister could have delivered that little speech without a rehearsal. Perhaps you should reconsider where your talents lie, Ginevra.’

      It was a shock to hear her name on his lips. Under the circumstances it seemed an unbearable intimacy, and she stiffened. She had never felt so torn. Half of her mind wanted to hang on grimly to what security she had, no matter what the cost. The other half longed to damn him to hell and vanish into the night, never to return. But it was hateful to know that her immediate future depended on his whim.

      She forced her lips to move in the semblance of a smile.

      ‘Goodnight, Mr Hendrick.’

      ‘Goodnight,’ he returned almost absently.

      Aunt Mary was waiting in the kitchen, her thin face anxious when Ginny returned.

      ‘My dear child, wherever have you been? Your supper will be ruined. Timothy and I finished long ago.’

      ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Ginny assured her almost mechanically. ‘I—I’ve been meeting my employer—the new tenant.’

      Aunt Mary frowned a little. ‘What are you talking about, my dear? Toby is the tenant.’

      ‘Apparently not,’ Ginny said ruefully. ‘He’s just a cousin who’s been allowed to use the place while Mr Hendrick has been abroad.’

      ‘I see. How strange that Toby didn’t see fit to acquaint you of the fact.’

      ‘I expect he thought it wasn’t important.’ Ginny began on her supper reluctantly. Her appetite seemed to have completely deserted her.

      Aunt Mary said, ‘Hmm,’ rather sceptically, and busied herself making a fresh pot of tea which she carried over to the table.

      ‘And what’s the new tenant like?’ she asked, pouring the tea.

      ‘He’s an arrogant, unpleasant, unfeeling swine!’

      ‘Ginevra!’ her aunt gasped.

      ‘I’m sorry, Aunt Mary.’ Ginny sounded totally unrepentant. ‘But you did ask me.’

      ‘I gather the gentleman has been unfortunate to arouse your displeasure, and rather early in the acquaintance.’

      ‘Whatever he is, he’s no gentleman.’ Ginny’s eyes smouldered as she remembered the embarrassment of their encounter in the bedroom. ‘He didn’t believe I was the housekeeper, and when I did convince him, he was damned rude about it.’ She gave a long, shaky sigh. ‘Oh, Aunt Mary, I’m afraid I’ve made such a mess of it all. I—I’m afraid we may have to leave here.’ And quite suddenly and unexpectedly she laid down her fork and burst into tears.

      It was rather like finding that you had slipped back into childhood again. Before many minutes had passed she found rather dazedly that she was upstairs in her room, being put to bed by Aunt Mary. She was tucked in so tightly she could hardly move, a hot water bottle was placed at her feet and a handkerchief smelling of eau de cologne was put gently into her hand. Later, a glass of hot milk appeared which she drank obediently, then, worn out with worry and crying, she fell asleep.

      She awoke the following morning later than usual, and exclaimed with horror. She had given her word that she would carry out her duties over at the house, and she was going to be late. She flung on the first clothes which came to hand and raced downstairs. If she followed her usual route across the courtyard, he would see her coming, she thought, but there was another way into the main part of the house. She guessed that once the traditional green baize door had divided the servants’ wing from the family rooms, but now the door was a much more solid oaken affair, with a key and bolts on her side only. If she went that way, she might just be able to make Max Hendrick dunk that she had arrived for work at the correct time.

      She felt like a criminal as she unbolted the door and turned the key silently in the lock. Her soft-soled shoes made no noise as she crept along the passage and into the kitchen. Her heart sank a little as she looked round. The room was empty, but the range had been stoked, and there were signs that breakfast had been prepared and cleared away. She had been hoping that Max Hendrick might also have overslept. So where was he now? she wondered. Sitting in that chilly study behind the electric typewriter, wondering why his fire wasn’t lit?

      She marched along to the study and opened the door after a perfunctory knock. She had a reluctant apology already trembling on her lips, but it was not needed. That room was empty too. She went quietly upstairs and listened, but there wasn’t a sound, and when she went over to the landing window and looked out, she realised that the car was gone. He’d got up, had breakfast and gone out. But where? Feeling sick, Ginny thought she could probably guess. He’d gone over to Lanyon Manor to complain about his housekeeper and insist on her replacement. She turned dejectedly away and went downstairs again.

      Moving like an automaton, she tidied the kitchen and put his washed dishes away. Then she lit the fire in the study and ran a duster and a carpet sweeper round the room. As she worked, her mind buzzed like a bee trapped behind glass, and with the same desperation.

      So it all had to begin again—the weary search for a roof over their heads, for a job with enough money to keep them all. And this time she had no idea even where to start. She supposed dully she would receive a certain amount of notice, or perhaps even money in lieu of notice, if Max Hendrick was really keen to be rid of her as soon as possible. She wondered what kind of reference she would receive, if any. She could not claim to have made a conspicuous success in the job, after all.

      She gathered her cleaning materials together and went across the passage into the drawing room. The pale spring sunlight was flooding in through the tall windows, making pools of brightness on the polished floor and the faded Persian carpet. Ginny put the carpet sweeper down and looked around her. She had always liked this room with its spaciousness barely diminished by the big old-fashioned furniture. She walked rather listlessly over to the window to adjust the long brocade curtains, once a rich gold, she thought, but now a uniform beige, and saw that the car had returned.

      She thought, ‘But I didn’t hear him come in. How odd,’ and realised almost at once that it was not odd at all. That she had not heard him because he had not returned to his own part of the house.

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