Witching Hour (30 page)

'I feel like hell,' she said shakily. 'Excuse me, please. I need a

dustpan and brush.'

'Not to mention a double brandy,' he said. 'Don't look so stricken.

It's only a bloody glass.'

'But it's
your
bloody glass.' Morgana got hurriedly to her feet,

terrified that he might be going to put out a hand to help her

because she knew she would not be able to bear it, and that the icy

core which seemed to have possessed her inmost being might melt.

'You can always stop it out of my wages.'

'I'll ignore that,' he said rather grimly. 'What's all this for, anyway?'

He gestured at the table.

'We've had a special dinner booking,' she said very brightly. 'Ten

people. Only a small beginning, but tiny acorns and all that. Who

knows? Next year we might make the Good Food Guide.'

'I see.' His eyes were fixed on her face. 'And it's the prospect of

serving dinner to ten strangers that's making you look like a

ghost?'

She avoided his gaze. 'I'm sorry my appearance doesn't meet with

your approval,' she said in a low voice. 'But it won't be for very

much longer.'

'And what's that supposed to mean?' Lyall frowned. 'I'm not in the

mood for cryptic remarks, lady. I've had one hell of a day.'

'Oh, I'm sorry,' she said insincerely. 'But at least you have a nice

relaxing evening to look forward to. The Donlevens are quite

famous for their parties, I understand. You should enjoy yourself.'

'I was looking forward to this evening,' Lyall said slowly. 'But my

anticipation is decreasing by the second. What the hell's got into

you?'

'A touch of realism, and not before time too,' she said. 'I'm leaving

Polzion, Lyall. How much notice do you require—a month or a

week?'

His expression didn't alter, but she knew instinctively that he was

suddenly, blazingly angry. He said flatly,

'You're going nowhere.'

'You can't stop me.' Her chin went up defiantly. 'There's no way

you can keep me here against my will, and we both know it. It was

all a great laugh while it lasted, Lyall, but now it's over, and I'd

like to get on with my life.'

'Away from here?' he jeered. 'Cutting the cord at last, Morgana?

Take care—you might bleed to death. And what about your ardent

lover? Where does he fit into your schemes?'

She bit her lip, stifling the natural reaction to tell him that she and

Rob were through. 'That's my problem, not yours.'

He shook his head, still staring at her. 'Your problems are mine.'

'Not any more,' she said. 'From now on, I'm my own responsibility.

I'm leaving Polzion because I want to put as many miles as

possible between us. It's you I want to get away from.'

His face hardened. 'Still determined on the coward's way out,

Morgan le Fay? Why don't you try being honest for once in your

life?'

'Oh, you're such an expert on honesty.' Her voice shook. 'But if

you want the truth, here it is. I hate and despise you for what you

tried to do to me. Oh, you can make me want you—of course you

can—and you're probably a wonderful lover, but then you've

obviously had a great deal of practice, and I'm not being added to

some kind of grubby list ..:'

'I have no list,' he interrupted, his voice icy with fury and his hands

reached out as if he was going to take her by the shoulders—

perhaps to shake her, perhaps to draw her closer, but whichever it

was she didn't want to know, she thought as she stepped

backwards out of reach.

She let her voice drip with contempt. 'Of course not. You probably

have to programme a computer to keep track of your conquests.

But I won't be among them, thank God. I couldn't live with myself

if I let it happen.' Her voice cracked suddenly. 'Oh God, why did

you ever have to come here? I wish I'd never seen you!'

'The feeling is entirely mutual,' he grated. 'But don't worry,

Morgana, you don't have to leave your beloved Polzion to be rid of

me. I'll take myself out of your life, and I'll guarantee to make the

situation permanent.'

She watched him turn away from her, striding out of the room and

across the hall to the stairs. In the distance, she heard his bedroom

door slam.

Moving like an automaton, she swept up the broken glass, and

completed the table setting. Then she went to the kitchen and

helped with the vegetables, still in a dream where the only reality

seemed to be Lyall's face as she'd seen him last, dark with anger,

and something more than anger.

'I'll be glad of them sprouts when you've finished mangling them,'

Elsa said tartly.

The Bartons when they arrived were a jolly crowd, so clearly

disposed to enjoy themselves and praise everything that was put

before them that Morgana was forced to bury her own unhappiness

and enter into the spirit of their party, at least on the surface. It was

past ten o'clock when they drank their final cups of coffee and

departed, profuse in their thanks and swearing they would

recommend Elsa's cooking to all their friends.

'Only I hope not too many of them, and certainly not all at once,'

Mrs Pentreath sighed, sinking into a chair. 'Oh, lord, there's the

telephone. Who on earth can it be at this hour?'

Morgana went into the office and lifted the receiver. She gave the

hotel number and heard Elaine's voice venomously, 'You little

bitch!'

Her immediate impulse was to slam the phone down again, but

something in the other girl's voice gave her pause.

She said coldly, 'Did you just ring to call me names, Elaine, or did

you want something?'

'I want to talk to Lyall. I don't know what you've said to him, but

whatever it is, it won't work.'

'I told him I was leaving,' Morgana said wearily. 'Wasn't that what

you wanted me to say?'

'Liar!' Elaine snapped. 'If that were true, then why's ' Lyall going

back to the States?'

'But he isn't,' Morgana exclaimed. 'At least . ..' She paused,

recalling only too vividly Lyall's final remark.
'I'll take myself out

of your life and I'll guarantee to make the situation permanent.'

Her mouth went suddenly dry. 'What makes you think he's going

back to America?'

'He does. Apparently he walked in here tonight, spoke to my

father, said he was going back to the States on the first available

flight, and that his lawyers would be in touch over the purchase of

the house and stables.' Elaine's voice was crackling with temper.

'Well, he's not going to treat me like that and get away with it. Will

you get him? I want to speak to him.'

'Just a minute.' Morgana put the receiver down on the desk and

went up to Lyall's room. He wasn't there, and the whole place

looked oddly deserted. Her breathing quickened nervously as she

looked around her. She went over to the newly fitted wardrobe unit

and slid back the door. It was empty, and so were the drawers in

the dressing chest.

A little sob tore at her throat and she whirled round and ran

downstairs again. Her mother was crossing the hall, on the way to

the drawing' room with a tray of tea.

'Mother,' Morgana's voice was breathless, 'Lyall's gone! His room

is empty.'

'Yes, dear,' Mrs Pentreath said placidly. 'He went while we were

serving dinner. I presumed you knew. He told me he'd had a word

with you.'

Morgana's eyes were enormous in the pallor of her face. 'Yes, he

did—but I didn't realise—I didn't know . ..' She broke off, biting

her lip. 'Did he say when he'd be back?'

'No, but then he rarely does. He just wished us all well, and left.

Why?'

Morgana shook her head. 'It—it doesn't matter. There was a

message I should have given him, that's all. I don't suppose it

matters.'

I should have told him I loved him, she thought. I should have told

him I'd be his on any terms he chose to dictate. And now it's too

late.

She said brightly, 'It's been quite a day. I think I'll go out for a

breath of fresh air before I go to bed.'

'Perhaps that's what you need,' Mrs Pentreath said gently.

Morgana went up to her room and changed out of the dark dress

she had worn to wait at table, putting on her jeans and a warm

sweater, with a hip-length quilted jacket.

It was a crisp night, the clear sky bright with stars, and she turned

her collar up round her face with a little shiver as she walked

along. She had moved aimlessly at first, and then, almost without

knowing it, realised she had turned off the road and was making

her way up the rising ground towards the Wishing Stone.

The Stone hadn't moved that night, weeks before, but her wish had

been granted just the same. Lyall had gone, just as she'd wanted,

and now she had to live with the bitterness of it. And remembering

his words, the tone of his voice, she doubted whether he would

ever come back. After all, Polzion was only a tiny corner of the

empire which he ruled, and could easily be administered from a

distance.

She was tired when she reached the dark, implacable bulk of the

stone. She had spent most of the day on her feet, and she was glad

to lean against the upright for a moment, her eyes closed, getting

her breath back.

The stone was cold and rough under her cheek. In a low voice she

said, 'I didn't mean what I said before. Please send him back to me.

Please!'

She didn't look up at the cross-stone. She didn't dare. Because if it

remained still then her heart would break. She took a shuddering

breath and turned away, back to the house, and light and sanity,

then stifled a scream as she collided with something that was flesh

and blood instead of granite.

Lyall said gently, 'That stone's a fraud, Morgan le Fay. I'd trust

your own brand of magic in future.'

She said, 'Lyall—oh, Lyall' on a little broken sob, and then she

was in his arms, her mouth parting helplessly under the searching

devastation of his kiss.

When she could speak again, she whispered, 'But what are you

doing here? I thought you were going back to the States.'

'And so I am,' he said. 'But not until I can take you with me. Oh, I

slammed out of Polzion tonight in a high old rage, swearing I'd go

away and stay away until you'd learned your lesson, and would

admit that you loved me as much as I loved you. But after I'd

called in at the Home Farm, and learned a couple of things, I

decided to postpone my trip for a while.'

'What did you learn?' she asked shyly, her heart singing.

'That Donleven clearly thought he'd lost a daughter— you—in

order to gain a son—me. It occurred to me that if Elaine had

managed to convince her own father that I was on the point of

proposing to her, she might have spread her net even farther and

caught you. And I wondered why you'd been so careful not to tell

me that you'd broken off your engagement. It wasn't a lot, but it

was enough to make me decide to come back, and force you to

listen to me, if need be.'

Morgana bent her head. 'Elaine came to see me. She— she said

that you knew I'd fallen in love with you, and this was an

embarrassment because all you'd wanted was a quick affair.'

'Presumably before I settled down to a life of bliss with her,' Lyall

completed harshly. 'Dear God! And you believed her?'

'I didn't want to,' she said in a low voice. 'But you spent nearly all

your time with her—and you were her lover, so what she was

saying sounded almost reasonable. She said we were all adults,

and she didn't grudge me a little fling.'

'How sweet of her,' he said ironically. 'And how shrewd. She

certainly knew your weak points and how to attack them. But let's

clear up one small point right away. I am not and never have been

Elaine's lover.'

'She didn't say that—but Lyall, I saw you together. The night of

Hallowe'en. You went into her room.'

He said slowly, 'My God, so I did. The fuse had blown in her

bedside lamp, and I took her the one from my room, but I didn't

stay. You must have a lousy opinion of me to imagine I could go

from your arms to hers.'

'I thought she was the one you really wanted,' she confessed. 'After

all, you'd said that all you wanted was to get me into bed. There

was never any hint that you cared for me in any way. You spent all