High Tide At Midnight. Sara Craven

‘It isn’t quite as simple as you seem to think. Just what did you hope to gain by coming here like this?’

      ‘Very little,’ she said wearily, her head bent. Her hands were clenched tightly round the straps of her rucksack, the knuckles showing white. ‘Just a few feet of storage space, that’s all. I see now of course that it was too much to ask of strangers. It was just that I’ve never—thought of the people in this house as strangers.’

      ‘How very appealing,’ he commented cynically. ‘What a pity you didn’t take the trouble to write or telephone in advance of your arrival. You might have been spared a difficult journey. And for the record, I’m not convinced by this cock and bull story of yours. It’s just unfortunate for you that giving refuge to waifs is no longer among our family failings. And you have your mother to thank for that.’

      Morwenna lifted one shoulder in a shrug of resignation. ‘Believe what you want,’ she said shortly. ‘But what I told you happens to be the truth.’

      ‘Come now, Miss Kerslake.’ The cynicism in his voice deepened. ‘Are you trying to tell me that it never once crossed your mind that there might be a home for you here?’

      It would have been wonderful to lift her head and damn his eyes and fling his insinuations back in his mocking face, but she couldn’t lie, not even to save her own face. Half-truths had got her into this mess, after all.

      ‘No,’ she said at last very quietly. ‘I can’t deny that it did cross my mind—briefly, once.’

      As she spoke, she glanced up and saw an odd look cross his face, as if her admission had surprised him. But why should it have done? It was after all only what he had been waiting to hear, she thought. She gathered all her resolution and moved forward again towards the door. He made no attempt to get out of her way and she had to walk round him to reach it. As she reached for the knob, the door suddenly swung inwards and she stepped back, unable to repress a little cry of alarm.

      ‘Hell’s bells, I’m sorry.’ The young man standing on the threshold gave her a swift look of concern which swiftly and overtly changed to one of admiration. ‘Did I knock you? I just had no idea that you’d be standing there. I thought Dom was alone, you see, and….’

      ‘The young lady is just leaving,’ Dominic Trevennon said in a voice as bleak as a winter’s gale.

      ‘Really?’ The newcomer made no attempt to hide his disappointment. ‘That’s too bad. Are you staying in the neighbourhood?’

      ‘Only as a temporary measure. I have to get back to London.’ Morwenna did not look at Dominic Trevennon to judge the effect of this deceptively defiant little speech. She was frankly shattered at the thought of having to go out again into this stormy night to find somewhere to stay. If she was honest with herself, she had counted on being offered a night’s shelter at Trevennon. She had not wanted to eat any further into her small savings. She reflected despondently that this trip to Cornwall was likely to prove one of the costliest impulses of her entire life, not merely in financial terms either. Her confidence and self-respect had also taken an unexpected battering. All she wanted to do now was to get away from this big dark house and the harsh insensitive man who dominated it and lick her wounds in peace. She needed desperately to think too, to consider some of the unpalatable facts that she had been presented with. Her mother, it seemed, had created a fantasy world about her time at Trevennon for some reason best known to herself. Perhaps she hadn’t wanted to face facts either, Morwenna thought unhappily.

      The young man was speaking again. ‘Well, if you must rush away, then I suppose it can’t be helped. But do drive carefully. A tree came down on our road tonight. Jacky Herrick was moving it with his tractor as I drove down, but there might be others.’

      She smiled at him with an effort. ‘Perhaps it’s just as well that I haven’t a car,’ she said, trying to speak lightly. ‘I presume there will still be buses on the main road.’

      ‘Yes, but they’re few and far between.’ He studied her for a moment with undisguised curiosity, then swung towards Dominic Trevennon who had been listening to the interchange with a faint sneering smile playing about his lips.

      ‘Dom, what’s going on here? You aren’t seriously suggesting that she should walk all the way back to the main road on a night like this—not when we’ve got half a dozen empty bedrooms.’

      ‘Oh, please.’ Morwenna intervened, alarmed. ‘I really must be going. I’ve made arrangements….’

      ‘Then you must let me take you in my car.’ He gave her a smile of such charm that she felt warmed by it in spite of everything that had happened. ‘Where are you staying? The Towers in Port Vennor?’

      ‘Er—no.’ Morwenna thought rapidly. ‘As a matter of fact, I’m staying with some friends. But you really don’t need to put yourself out.’

      ‘I’m not. Dom, don’t just stand there. Tell her that she’s not putting us to any trouble. What’s the matter with you? You surely weren’t going to let her simply trudge off into the night, for God’s sake?’

      Dominic Trevennon raised his eyebrows coolly. ‘Frankly, it didn’t seem to be any of my concern,’ he said offhandedly. ‘In any case, Miss Kerslake has already impressed me as a young lady more than capable of looking after herself.’

      ‘Miss—Kerslake?’

      Dominic Trevennon nodded. ‘You heard me correctly—and your assumption is equally correct. And as introductions now seem to be in order, Miss Kerslake, this is my younger brother Mark.’

      His handshake was warm enough, but Morwenna already sensed a faint air of withdrawal in his manner. The younger brother had an easy forthright charm which his elder totally lacked, she thought, smouldering.

      She said very sweetly and politely, ‘If after my dire identity is disclosed to you, the offer of a lift is no longer forthcoming, I shall quite understand.’