Witching Hour (10 page)

For a moment she stared at him, then she said thickly, 'You

bastard!' and started to cry.

'It seems you know already,' he commented. He moved away as

she hunted blindly in her sleeve for her handkerchief. When she

had regained command of herself, he was standing by the

fireplace, his arm resting along the mantelshelf, and with one foot

supported on the brass fender.

He said, 'Come and sit down, Morgana. We have some talking to

do.'

She said huskily, 'I think we've said it all.'

'We haven't even started. Now, do you come here and sit on the

sofa, or do I have to fetch you?'

Morgana moved hastily. The last thing in the world she wanted

was for him to touch her again, and although obeying him even in

this small way wasn't something she relished, nevertheless it

seemed the wisest thing to do.

'That's better,' he approved unsmilingly. 'Now the first thing I have

to say is that I've decided to take your mother up on her offer of

accommodation. As I said before, I've only a limited amount of

time at my disposal at present, and I want to be on the spot for the

next few days while I put my plans for this house into operation.'

'So when do you want us to leave?' she asked. Now that the

moment of truth had finally arrived, she felt strangely calm.

'Who said anything about leaving?' He turned his head and looked

at her coolly.

'Well -' she floundered for a moment, nonplussed. 'We can't

possibly stay . . .'

'You'll be surprised what you can do,' he said softly. 'Now, here

comes your mother, so let's try and act as if we're not at each

other's throats.'

Elizabeth Pentreath came into the drawing room on a little burst of

apology. Miss Meakins had a complaint about the light switch in

her room. 'And it has given trouble in the past, I'm afraid, although

Martin did look at it once or twice.' She gave a little sigh. 'But he

wasn't much of an electrician, I'm afraid.'

'I think he'd probably have to have been a genius to have made

much improvement,' Lyall said drily. 'The whole house needs re-

wiring, Mrs Pentreath. Surely you must know that?'

Elizabeth sighed again. 'Knowing it and being able to do

something about it are two different things, I'm afraid. It's ail been

such a worry, and then people started making threatening noises

about new fire regulations.' She shook her head. 'Oh dear!'

Lyall studied her for a moment, then he said quite gently 'Mrs

Pentreath, do you actually like the hotel business?'

She brightened. 'Oddly enough—yes. Oh, I don't like the business

side—trying to make silk purses out of sows' ears all the time, but

I do like
people.
I like trying to make them comfortable—even the

rather difficult ones like Miss Meakins, although she's only lonely,

I think, poor soul.'

He said, 'Then I hope you'll listen to the proposition I have for you,

Mrs Pentreath. As it stands, this place is frankly a white elephant.

It's too big to be a family home these days, and it never had the

injection of capital it needed to be a successful hotel. Now, I'm

prepared to change all that.'

Morgana said slowly; 'You mean—you want to run it as a hotel?'

'Not quite. As it happens one of van Guisen-Lyall's subsidiaries

owns a hotel chain, but I'm not proposing to add Polzion House to

that. Winters in England rather preclude it from becoming One of

the world's playgrounds. No, what I'm suggesting is rather

different. I want to see a complete facelift—new wiring, proper

heating, any repairs necessary, redecoration throughout—but

nothing that's going to spoil its country house image. For most of

the year it can continue to be run as an ordinary hotel, although I

hope the improvements will bring in more trade, but there's one

proviso—I want van Guisen-Lyall employees always to have top

priority. In fact there'll be times when the place will probably be

occupied by no one else.'

Mrs Pentreath said with
faint bewilderment, 'I'm not sure I

understand. You want to run Polzion House as a private hotel for

the staff of your companies?'

'In a way. I also envisage holding company conferences here.

People seem to think better, become more creative in a relaxed

informal atmosphere. And I'd say this place is about as far from the

rat race as it's possible to get. In between times—well, strain gets

to everyone. I want a quiet refuge where members of our

companies' staff can unwind.'

'A haven for tired business executives?' Morgana raised her

eyebrows. 'Then I suppose your improvements should include a

bar and a selection of hostesses.'

He didn't even glance in her direction. 'A bar, certainly,' he said

shortly. 'But don't run away with the idea that there'll be only

executives here. There are just as many pressures on the shop floor

these days. And the majority of those who come here will be

accompanied by their wives, so we can do without your other

suggestion, well meant though I'm sure it was.'

Morgana flushed and relapsed into silence.

Lyall looked at Elizabeth Pentreath. 'Any comments? Do you like

the idea?'

She said slowly, 'In principle, I like it very much, although I can

see a clash of interest between the ordinary guests, as it were, and

those from the company. I suppose the thing to do would be to

have certain rooms free at all times.' She paused, then said with

constraint, 'But of course, this is really none of my business.'

'On the contrary.' Lyall was smiling now. 'A major factor in

making the place a success will be having an experienced

manageress—someone who knows how to put edgy people at ease.

I'd like to offer you the job, Mrs Pentreath, and I hope very much

that you'll consider it.'

'She'll do nothing of the sort!' Morgana was on her feet. 'I think it's

an insult—to offer my mother a job in her old home!'

'An insult was the last thing I intended, believe me.' He was still

watching Mrs Pentreath. 'It seemed to be a solution to both our

problems. Was I wrong to suggest it?'

'Why, no.' Elizabeth drew a long quivering breath. 'You've just

taken me by surprise a little, that's all. May I have time to think

about it?'

'As long as you wish.'

'She doesn't need time,' Morgana declared passionately. 'And she

doesn't need your charity either.'

'I wasn't aware I was offering charity. It's a job for which a salary

will be paid.' Lyall sounded slightly bored. 'In addition, your

mother will qualify for one of the Corporation's pension schemes,

and other benefits.'

'Benefits!' Morgana was almost crying with rage. 'To be a servant

in her own home?'

'And what else has she been, ever since this place became a hotel?'

he asked coolly. 'You may have been able to kid yourself you were

still Miss Pentreath of Polzion, but it's an even bet that your

mother's view of the situation was rather more realistic.' He turned

back to Elizabeth. 'As I said, I'd like you to think about it. Please

ask me any questions you think relevant.'

'Thank you.' She gave a shaky smile. 'I'm sure there will be dozens

of things I'll want to know, but for the moment I can't think of one

of them.'

'Mother!' Morgana's eyes were fixed on her in a kind of agony.

'You aren't seriously going to consider taking this job, surely?'

'I most certainly am,' said Mrs Pentreath with a kind of robust

firmness. 'I'd be a fool not to, darling. After all, where am I going

to get a better offer? Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go and give Elsa

a hand in the
kitchen.'
She bestowed an impartial, if slightly

bemused smile on them both, and departed.

There was a long, taut silence, then Lyall said very quietly, 'Are

you going to allow your mother to make up her own mind, or are

you going to pressure her with scenes and tantrums?'

Morgana stared at him furiously. 'You seem to take it for granted

that when she does decide it will be in your favour.'

'No, hers,' he corrected. 'Try and subdue your prejudice and your

resentment against me just for a moment or two, and tell me what

alternatives you have to offer. If you left here tomorrow, where

would you go and what would you do?'

'I've been looking for work,' she said rather haughtily. 'There are

residential posts to be had. It's just a matter of waiting until the

right one comes along.'

'Precisely—and who knows how long that might be.' He gave her a

level look. 'And it would mean your mother would be uprooted

from everything she knows, to take pot luck with strangers in an

unfamiliar environment. Is that really what you want for her?'

'No,' she admitted in a low voice. 'But nor do I want her to be

beholden to you.'

'Why? Because you don't like me—or because you don't trust me?'

'Both,' she said, lifting her chin defiantly, and he laughed.

'I'm not sure I want your liking, little witch. Liking is such a

lukewarm expression of emotion, and trust is something that has to

be learned.'

Morgana was silent for a moment, then she asked, 'Why didn't you

tell us the truth—why didn't you tell us who you really were

yesterday?'

'What difference would it have made? Rich man, poor man, I'm

still the heir to your father's estate. And as you made clear just

now, the fact that I already have money doesn't make it any more

palatable.' Lyall paused. 'And I wanted to find out exactly how the

land lay. Besides, there was always the chance that you might have

recognised me.'

'Recognised you? Why should I do that?'

He shrugged. 'From the newspapers—magazines. They feature me

sometimes.'

'I'm sure they do,' she said sarcastically. 'And not only on the

financial pages either.'

He raised his brows. 'Unfortunately I'm not responsible for

newspaper editors' sense of priorities. That's another reason why I

preferred to keep my identity secret when I first came down here.

When the papers get hold of this story, they'll have a field day, and

I have a feeling I was spotted by a stringer for one of the dailies in

Truro last night.'

'The price of fame,' she jibed.

He gave her a cool look. 'Everything has its price. Morgana. I

wonder what yours is.'

'I'm not for sale.' She felt her breathing quicken under his ironic

gaze, and knew angrily that he was aware of it too. 'You may be

able to buy my mother, but you'll never buy me. I'm not interested

in your slick plans for this house, and I shan't be here when they

come to fruition.'

'That's a pity,' he said. 'Wouldn't you like to see the house restored

to its former glory?'

'Not particularly—and I'm not convinced that that's what will

happen, anyway. It'll turn into one of these horribly anonymous

plastic palaces that you can find anywhere. You have no real

feeling for the place—you can't have. You weren't born here. You

haven't loved it all your life.'

'Warts and all?'

'If you want to put it like that,' she said stiffly.

Lyall laughed. 'But witches are supposed to be able to charm away

warts. Is that what you do when you look at the house, Morgana?

Do you see it with the eyes of enchantment? Others won't, you

know. And I have to do something with the place.'

'You could sell it,' she said slowly.

'I could,' he agreed. 'Are you going to make me an offer?'

'Do you think we wouldn't have done if we could have afforded

to?' She spoke so passionately, her voice almost broke. 'No—but

there is someone else interested—the Donlevens who bought the

Home Farm from us.'

'The parents of the gorgeous Elaine?' he queried, and she nodded.

He smiled a little. 'I see, but I'm not looking for a purchaser. I

think we should keep the place in the family, don't you?'

'What, do you know about the family?' she asked fiercely. 'On your

own admission you don't even use the family name any more—

except when it suits you, of course.'

'Nevertheless it's still the name on my birth certificate, lady, and

there isn't anything that can alter that. And don't forget that I come

from a long line of black sheep of this particular family, so you

can't blame me if that colours my thinking sometimes. I wasn't

brought up to have any great love for this house, or any of its