Gethyn were not
one-sided in the least. He had said he intended to marry again, and
if there was another woman in his life besides his young cousin,
surely local gossip would have picked up the fact by now. So all the
indications were that he meant to marry Rhiannon, and it was
essential that she conceal all traces of her confused and emotional
state in Rhiannon's presence, and especially the motives that had
driven her to lock her door the previous night.
For a long time she had listened for the sound of Gethyn coming up
to bed, but she had heard nothing. Finally it occurred to her that she
had no idea where Rhiannon's room was. If that was Gethyn's
destination, and it was on the other side of the house, then it was no
wonder she had not heard him, she thought. Certainly Rhiannon did
not look as if she had slept very much—there were shadows under
her eyes—but neither did she have the supposedly blissful look of a
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
one-sided in the least. He had said he intended to marry again, and
if there was another woman in his life besides his young cousin,
surely local gossip would have picked up the fact by now. So all the
indications were that he meant to marry Rhiannon, and it was
essential that she conceal all traces of her confused and emotional
state in Rhiannon's presence, and especially the motives that had
driven her to lock her door the previous night.
For a long time she had listened for the sound of Gethyn coming up
to bed, but she had heard nothing. Finally it occurred to her that she
had no idea where Rhiannon's room was. If that was Gethyn's
destination, and it was on the other side of the house, then it was no
wonder she had not heard him, she thought. Certainly Rhiannon did
not look as if she had slept very much—there were shadows under
her eyes—but neither did she have the supposedly blissful look of a
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
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