Authors: Sara Craven
girl who had just spent a fulfilling night in her lover's arms. She
looked totally out of sorts with the world as she flounced away, but
Davina thought this was probably understandable. Her own sudden
and inexplicable arrival must have jolted the apple cart to some
extent. Perhaps Gethyn had had to spend some time reassuring
Rhiannon that she had no need to be jealous—that he was in fact
immune, as he had bluntly told her, Davina.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, shivering a little in her thin
gingham nightgown, and sipped at the tea. It was comforting, in
spite of the mess in the saucer. She glanced at her watch and saw to
her surprise that it was after nine o'clock. She had slept for longer
than she would have thought possible.
As she came downstairs, the pony-trekkers were just disappearing
out of the front door, securely camouflaged in hard hats and
voluminous mackintoshes, and they gave her a cheery wave as they
trudged down the path into the mist and drizzle.
Davina went through to the kitchen. Mrs Parry and Rhiannon were
both there, stowing quantities of packed lunches away in a pair of
substantial saddlebags. Mrs Parry looked up as Davina entered and
smiled rather nervously.
'Oh, there you are. I'll just finish this and then I'll make you some
breakfast.'
'There's really no need. I only ever have fruit juice and toast in the
morning and if you'll tell me where the things are, I can manage.'
Davina kept her tone cool. She found it hard to forgive Gethyn's
aunt for having summoned him home in such haste, and for such a
reason. 'I'm sorry I'm late. I overslept.'
'Well, I would have called you, only Gethyn said to let you have
your sleep, see?' Mrs Parry sounded flustered, as well she might,
Davina thought grimly. It was a ticklish position to be in—with
Gethyn's former wife on one side of her, and his future bride on the
other. Mrs Parry gave her a sideways look. 'Did you enjoy yourself
yesterday evening?'
Davina was tempted to reply, 'Fine—until I came back here.' But
she confined herself to a noncommittal, 'Thank you—yes.'
Rhiannon fastened the buckle on the last bag with a vicious jerk. 'I'll
be going now, Mam,' she threw over her shoulder as she made her
way to the back door. Mrs Parry sighed faintly as it slammed
behind her, but the smile she gave Davina was almost determinedly
bright.
'It's been a busy week,' she said half-apologetically. 'But one family
will be going home tomorrow, and I thought perhaps you might like
to go out on one of the treks. There's some wonderful country
hereabouts, and there's no better way of seeing it.'
Davina shook her head. 'I don't think so. I may well be going myself
tomorrow, but even if I am still here, I haven't come equipped to go
riding. And I'm not an expert rider by any means.'
'Oh, Rhiannon takes beginners too, and she'd loan you some
trousers and boots, I'm sure.' Mrs Parry bustled about, cutting slices
from a large loaf and putting them to toast, and pouring chilled
grapefruit juice from a jug in the big fridge.
Davina could imagine nothing less appealing than borrowing
clothes from Rhiannon, and decided that Mrs Parry was valiantly
trying to convince herself that all was well, and that the
undercurrents were all. figments of her imagination. She contented
herself with a brief smile and a rather sceptical lift of her brows.
Mrs Parry brought the toast to the table and began to ladle tea into a
big brown pot.
'The best cup of the day, this,' she confided as she herself sat down.
'I like having the visitors—it makes the place lively, but it's nice just
for a little while to have the house quiet again. What are you going
to do with yourself today?' she added, putting a dish of home-made
marmalade down in front of Davina.
Davina felt slightly taken aback. Mrs Parry seemed intent on
treating her as if she was just another visitor to Plas Gwyn—a
welcome guest to be cosseted and entertained. She was obviously
determined to ignore the implications of Davina's presence.
During the long night, Davina had decided that she must talk to
Gethyn again, and soon, however unpalatable the task might be.
Hints and inferences were no good, she told herself. They had to
sort out where they stood once and for all. In a way, things had
already gone more smoothly than she had dared to hope. Perhaps
today Gethyn too would be anxious to get their respective futures
settled, without further recriminations on either side. Or was she
asking for too much? she wondered wryly. She saw Mrs Parry
watching her anxiously and gave a little start.
'Oh—today. I'm not sure.' She spread some marmalade on her toast
and bit into it with appreciation. 'The weather isn't really good
enough for looking around the district, but I expect I'll just go for a
drive.'
'If you're looking for the bright lights, Davina, you're going to be
disappointed.'
She laid her piece of toast back on the plate, feeling her stomach
contract painfully, as Gethyn sauntered into the room. He sent her a
sardonic smile and reached for the teapot, filling a mug for himself.
'On the other hand,' he continued, 'I do have some unfinished
business in Dolgellau. If you really want to play tourist for half a
day, you could come with me.'
Davina hesitated. This was not at all what she had had in mind, but
she knew it would be wisest not to allow that to weigh with her too
heavily. Besides, perhaps Gethyn felt that they could talk more
easily away from the house.
'Thank you,' she said composedly after a moment. 'I shall enjoy
that.'
He lifted an eyebrow at her. 'Ever the optimist,' he drawled. 'Shall
we say half an hour?'
It was not an encouraging beginning, but she nodded and gulped
down the rest of her tea, almost choking in her anxiety to get out of
the kitchen and away from him. This present confrontation was like
a re-run of the previous night, and she knew she couldn't take it. On
the other hand, what was she inviting by agreeing to spend probably
the greater part of the day in his company? she wondered, as she
gained her room. The face that looked back at her from the mirror
looked pale and strained, and for a while she hesitated, her hand
instinctively reaching for the blusher, but eventually she decided not
to make any alterations to her appearance. She certainly had no
wish for Gethyn to gain the mistaken impression that she was
setting out to make herself attractive for him, she thought, and while
she was about it, she scooped her dark auburn hair back from her
face, and tied it at the nape of her neck with a wide black velvet
ribbon.
When she descended the staircase, Gethyn was standing in the hall
waiting for her. He had been smoking a cheroot rather impatiently,
but as the stair creaked under her foot, he glanced up, his
expression suddenly becoming remote and rather unapproachable.
He was wearing a hip-length corded jacket over his faded jeans and
cream roll-necked sweater, and the shock of his attraction lashed
out at her again.
He looked her up and down. 'Haven't you anything more substantial
than that to wear?'
She swallowed. 'Only the shawl I had on last night. I— I wasn't
expecting to be here for longer than a day, and I didn't bring any
extra clothes. And it was so warm yesterday ...' her voice tailed
away.
'Perhaps it was—yesterday,' he said grimly, and she did not deceive
herself that he meant solely the weather. 'But any fool could see
there was a change coming.'
He flung open a door built into the staircase revealing a crowded
cupboard. After a moment's search, he produced a shabby parka
and tossed it over to her.
'It isn't as elegant as your couture dress, but it will at least stop you
being drenched,' he remarked expressionlessly.
Reluctantly Davina slid her arm into the garment. It was far too big
for her and she guessed without being told that it belonged to him.
The cloth still held the aroma of cheroots and the tang of some
masculine cologne. The simple act of wearing it was almost like
being in his arms, she found herself thinking, and the colour rose in
her face. Fortunately his attention seemed to be fixed on the gloomy
conditions outside and he failed to notice her momentary
embarrassment.
He turned back abruptly. 'Ready?' He gave her sandals a derisory
look. 'There's not much we can do about those, though I suppose
the heels are high enough to lift you above any puddles.'
'I'll be all right,' she asserted, nettled at his tone.
'I'll take your word for it.' As she drew level with him at the front
door, he reached out suddenly and drew the hood of the parka up
around her head. His fingers brushed her face as he adjusted the
hood and she pulled away as if she had been stung, biting her lip as
she glimpsed the sudden savagery in his face at her gesture.
He thrust his hands into his pockets and strode out into the rain, his
head slightly bent, and she followed, stumbling a little as the wet
gravel shifted under her feet. In spite of the chill and the prevailing
damp, the air was like wine and she gulped it in, glad of its cooling
effect on her flushed face. What an idiot she had been to over-react
like that! The last thing she wanted was to let Gethyn believe that
she was still vulnerable where he was concerned. She had to admit
that she had totally underestimated the effect on her that seeing him
again would have. But she was here now and there could be no
going back, so all she could do was carry out her self-appointed
task grimly to the end.
Already his long stride was carrying him away from her up the
track, and she had to almost run to keep up with him. She was
breathless by the time they reached the parking place. Gethyn
ignored the Landrover and unlocked the passenger door of a car
standing nearby that had certainly not been there when she had
arrived the night before. Davina thought ironically that she would
have been bound to notice such an affluent-looking piece of
machinery.
She lifted her eyebrows as she subsided into the cream leather seat,
and he took his place beside her. 'Italian?'
He flicked the ignition. 'Yes—if it matters. You're surely not
pretending that you're impressed?'
'It's not pretence,' she said frankly. 'But I didn't know you were
particularly interested in cars.'
'I'm not,' he said briefly. 'It simply gets me from A to B a little
faster, that's all. If you're a nervous passenger you'd better fasten
your seat belt.'
She complied with the suggestion, giving him a slightly defiant
look.
'It's nothing to do with nerves, merely common sense,' she said as
the car made light of the track up to the road.
He gave her a derisive glance. 'So you're learning caution at last, are
you? Well, I suppose better late than never. What a pity for both of
us that the lesson didn't come a little earlier in life.'
'Before I came here, do you mean, or before I married you?'
He lifted an indifferent shoulder, as he turned the car economically
out on to the quiet road. 'Interpret it whatever way you will,' he said
coolly.
With a superhuman effort, she bit back the angry retort that was
trembling on her lips and relapsed into silence. She had to admit
that he was a superb driver. The travelling conditions were
appalling, the rain and mist seeming to increase with every mile,
and the road was narrow and winding, yet she found herself almost
imperceptibly beginning to relax in her seat as if this was solely the
pleasure trip it would appear on the surface.
'We're going by the shortest road through Llanmoel,' Gethyn
remarked laconically at last. 'There is a scenic route over the
mountains, but we'll save that for another day when the weather has
improved.'
She stared at him. 'Precisely how long are you assuming I intend to
stay?'
His mouth twisted in a faint smile. 'For as long as it takes,' he told
her quietly. 'Wasn't that the arrangement we arrived at last night?'
'If so, I wasn't aware of it,' she said between her teeth. 'I was under