Authors: Jane Corrie
'Don't panic,' he said smoothly, taking full note of her wide eyes that so clearly mirrored her thoughts. 'We've plenty of time. I don't intend to rush you. This time you'll come to me—you have my word on that. As for wanting you to play a part —since when,' he shot out at her, 'have I delegated such work to others? I do not,' he ended on what sounded a regretful note, appear to have left you with a favourable impression of my capabilities. However, that is something else that will soon be righted. Now, I really think it's time we got down to some work, don't you?' he asked the still bemused Jenny, who started at his swift change of conversation, and searched for her notepad with fingers that trembled slightly.
With Mark's assurance that he did not intend to push her into any situation without her full agreement, Jenny was able to relax her guard in the days that followed. That he was a man of his word she
had no doubt, and in this instance she trusted him completely, and was even a little amused at his firm assumption that she would eventually break down under his compelling magnetism. Which only went to show, she told herself dryly, how much success he must have had with other women. The only thing that did worry her was that he was by no means a patient man, in spite of his calm remark about there being 'plenty of time'.
It did occur to her that it might be a good idea if she joined forces with his latest conquest, Dily
’
s. With the two of them hanging round his neck, he might well beat a hasty retreat from the scene on the excuse of urgent business elsewhere! But Jenny couldn't trust herself to come out of such a situation entirely unscathed. Being in constant company with him, hearing his deep voice, and watching the dexterous way he handled his 'kingdom', she could well understand his fatal attraction to the opposite sex. He was so sure of himself, and, she had to admit a little grudgingly, a good boss to work for, and would find herself giving him surreptitious looks when she thought he was otherwise engaged. A chance remark of his after she had watched him on one occasion of, 'Wrong tie?' proved that he had been fully aware of her scrutiny, and had made her vow never to be caught out like that again.
That he was a good boss was borne home to her very shortly after he had taken over the hotel, for Tony's efforts to find Boots another situation came sadly unstuck after Boots had had a session with Mark shortly after handing in his notice.
'He took it back,' said Tony disgustedly, 'and no matter how hard I tried to point out that a
higher salary was no guarantee for future employ—
ment, he wouldn't listen to me. Same with Flo,' he complained. 'I sounded her out on a job that was going at the Oxford, and that's a good place to get in at, but she wouldn't even consider it. Seems she's got a rise, too.' He gave Jenny a gloomy look. 'He's got them all hypnotised. I even caught Dodie giving him an approving nod the other day,' he added perplexedly, and gave Jenny a hard stare. 'I hope you're not joining the band waggon,' he said accusingly.
Jenny smiled at this. 'No hope,' she replied brightly. 'Not in the way you mean, anyway,' and what Tony didn't know wouldn't worry him, she thought sagely, although it did strike her that there was no need for her to stay on now. It had obviously occurred to Tony, too. 'Just say the word and we'll start packing,' he said cheerfully.
Jenny looked down at her hands, then out of the window of the small dining room where she sat. It adjoined the hotel kitchen, and was where members of staff usually had their meals. The table she sat at had always been reserved for her father and herself, and looked out on to the hotel's kitchen garden at the back of the premises. Her gaze lingered on an old gnarled tree from which hung a home-made swing that Jenny had used as a child many years ago. She said nothing, but some o; her thoughts were conveyed to the watchful Tony. 'It was a good idea,' he said slowly, 'but I know how you feel. I'm
a bit too old to pull up roots now anyway. So we stay till we're pushed, okay?' he said brightly.
As Jenny blinked quickly to dispel the tears this
capitulation on his part had brought, she gave him a misty smile and nodded, not trusting herself to say anything.
'Any idea of what changes he's got in mind for modernising?' Tony asked quickly, to take her mind off the past.
Jenny shook her head slowly. 'He hasn't said anything to me if he has. I only hope he doesn't try to turn the place into a chromium-plated palace—not that I think he will,' she added musingly. 'He's got exceptionally good taste, whatever else we might say of him,' she ended dryly.
'That's as maybe,' growled Tony, refusing to endorse this fact, 'but as long as he confines his activities to the business side, I've no quarrel with him. If he steps out of line, just shout for me, and I'll give him a few home truths that he won't forget in a hurry,' he said ferociously.
Later that day Silas sought Mark out in the office, with the request that he meet his niece at London Airport the following day, as he had to attend the conference, and Jenny did not fail to note the carefully veiled annoyance that Mark felt at this request, although he agreed to meet Dilys.
It had been several days since Mark had mentioned Dilys's visit, and Jenny, with so much on her mind, had almost forgotten the girl. Now she found she was curious to meet her, but more important than that, to note Mark's attitude towards her. Silas
had said that Mark was `fond' of Dilys, and womanlike, Jenny couldn't help wondering if Mark had given the girl cause for her devotion, and if so, she felt genuinely sorry for her. She knew from experience what it felt like to be swept off her feet and then dropped when the attraction faded. If he had treated Dilys as he had treated her, then she would do all in her power to assist Silas Hawter in his quest for his niece's happiness. How, she couldn't at that moment in time exactly see, but if Mark wanted to give the impression that he was still keen on her, she would find some way of disproving this fact in a manner that left no room for doubt, and there would be nothing Mark could do about it, short of strangling her, that was!
The following morning, Jenny had time on her hands. With Mark detailed to meet Dilys at the airport, it did not take her long to clear up a few odd jobs that had been left over from the previous day, and now that she had done that, she was at a loose end, although the rest of the hotel was busy preparing for a second influx of guests. The change-over was due that day and meant a lot of feverish activity on the part of the staff.
As yet there was no sign of Silas Hawter departing, although the conference ended that day. Jenny presumed he meant to stay until things between her and Mark, or she hoped between Dilys and Mark, had worked themselves out, and if it depended on the outcome between her and Mark, then he was due for a very long visit, she thought.
After coffee break that morning she made her
way down to the hotel foyer, with the intention of giving a hand wherever help was required. She had often done this in the past when the hotel had once before been a going concern, but those days seemed very far away now. She sensed the busy almost impersonal atmosphere of the well trained staff as they passed her on their separate duties, and had an odd feeling that she was slightly de trop, and that her offer of help might well be kindly, but firmly refused, and this made her feel sad, even though she knew there was now ample staff to cope with the work, for more staff had been taken on since Mark had taken over. Even Rose, she thought sadly, had failed to notice her appearance, and was intent on studying a list of some kind, probably familiarising herself with the names of the incoming guests.
A pile of the daily papers lay on the small occasional table next to the dining room. They were normally taken through to the lounge each day, and as this had not yet been attended to, Jenny picked them up and took them through to the lounge.
She was on her way out of the lounge when the words 'Isn't it quaint?' came through from the dining room, and as the accent was American, Jenny presumed Miss Dilys Hawter had arrived.
Not wanting it to look as if she was eavesdropping, she started to leave the lounge by the side door that was used only by the staff, and heard Mark's deep well-modulated voice answer as she reached the door. 'Quaint's hardly the word,' lie said dryly. 'Antiquated is the word, I think. Still,
your compatriots are of the same opinion as you are, apparently.'
The girl chuckled. 'You've no sentiment, Mark,' she teased him lightly. 'Sure, they'll go for it, lifts or no lifts. Are you going to modernise it?' she queried, adding swiftly, 'I do hope not. I think it would be a pity to alter it.'
Although Jenny was halfway through the door she couldn't resist waiting to hear his answer. It was a question she had so much wanted to ask him herself, but was hardly able to do so, not in her present position.
`Lifts, probably,' he replied. 'They ought to have been put in years ago, but Peacock was not a business man, he was a sentimentalist, and it didn't pay.'
There was a harshness in his voice that hadn't been there until he mentioned Malcolm, and Jenny knew a spurt of surprise that he could still be bitter about him.
`He left the business to his secretary, didn't he, and wasn't that the girl you were engaged to?' asked his companion, in what sounded like an idle way, but Jenny gently closing the door behind her sensed the strain behind the question.
Her cheeks were flushed as she made her way back to her office. It served her right for listening to their conversation. It was said that listeners did not hear any good of themselves, and so it was with her. The way the question had been framed left Jenny in no doubt of the fact that Mark's opinion on why Malcolm had left her the business was
shared by Dilys, and there was nothing she could do about it, even if she had wanted to.
By the time Mark had brought Dilys to the office to meet her, Jenny had herself well in hand, and was able to shake the small hand Dilys held out to her with a calmness that belied her inner thoughts.
In height, Jenny had the advantage of Dilys, if only by an inch or so, but her slim, slight figure, as against the younger girl's well-endowed curvaceous one, made her appear taller than she actually was. Her eyes, Jenny noted, were a light brown, as was her hair, that was worn loose, and held back by a bandeau that matched her pink two-piece suit, that clung to her figure. The colour suited her well, thought Jenny, and no doubt Dilys was well aware of this fact. As Jenny shook her hand and murmured the conventional greeting, she saw how the girl's eyes went from her to Mark, as if trying to assess his feelings towards the woman he was once engaged to, and not wanting to jeopardise her own position by making a false move.
With the intention of giving her a lead in this direction, Jenny asked Dilys if Mr Chanter had shown her her room, and if not, she suggested she should take her along straight away and give her time to freshen up before lunch, adding with a smile that she had been allotted the room next to her uncle.
Mark's frown showed that he had not liked the 'Mr Chanter' reference one little bit, and he made his point with a, 'Since when have we stood on protocol, Jenny? Dilys is almost one of the family, and
I want you to become firm friends with her, so no more of this "Mr Chanter" or "Miss Hawter" reference, if you please.'
Jenny didn't 'please', neither did Dilys, apparently, although Jenny did not know her sufficiently well to be really certain, but there was something about the way her small jaw hardened that suggested annoyance. In an oblique way, Mark had managed to stamp Dilys categorically as a friend, and nothing more than a friend, and this must have given her hopes a nasty jolt.
Having clearly settled that issue between the girls, Mark made some blithe remark about having a few things to see to before lunch, and he would leave the girls to get acquainted.
In the tiny silence that followed his departure, Jenny met Dilys's downcast look with one of sympathy. 'Well, shall we find your room?' she asked gently, not really knowing what else to say, as it was obvious Dilys had no interest in any other subject but Mark, and she had no intention of indulging in small talk with Jenny.
Her drawled, 'Sure,' was said without any enthusiasm at all, and Jenny wanted to tell her just how things were between herself and Mark, and that she had no need to look so miserable. If Silas Hawter was of the opinion that his niece could work the oracle and land Mark as a husband, then there was everything to play for. He had been right about her looks; she was very pretty, with a sort of appealing attraction that many men would find hard to resist. It was a pity that she had settled on Mark,
thought Jenny, for she couldn't have picked a more elusive man—elusive, that was, where the ring of wedding bells was concerned! But something told her that Dilys was not as helpless as she looked, and wouldn't give up the chase until her quarry was actually standing at the altar with another woman by his side!
Her thoughts on this were shortly borne out by the way Dilys made no attempt at a friendly overture once they were alone, and treated Jenny much as she might have treated any of the hotel staff who had accompanied her to her room, and once there, Jenny had no option but to leave her to it, with the courteous wish that she enjoy her stay at Peacock's Walk, much as she would have done to any other guest.
So much for Mark's wish that they should become friends, she thought ruefully as she made her way back to the office. You could lead a horse to water, but you couldn't make it drink—and so it would be between Dilys and herself! She would, of course, be perfectly polite to Jenny in Mark's presence, but that was as far as it would go. Without lifting a finger she knew she had been classed an enemy to be outflanked at all costs, and considering Jenny was on her side, it was too ridiculous for words.