sort of plan, the sooner I'll be away
from here. I do have other things to do. I have to be in Sweden
next week.'
'I'm sure we're all duly impressed,' Morgana said bitterly, and
walked out of the kitchen. She was halfway along the passage
when Lyall caught up with her.
'Pleased with yourself?' he asked drily. 'Feel that you've scored a
few points? Your little barbs aren't hurting me at all, lady, but they
are upsetting your mother for whom you express such profound
concern. I'd like to see some real evidence of it.'
'I'm staying here, aren't I?' she flashed. 'Wasn't that what it was all
about? I'm sorry if you don't like my attitude, but it's the only way
I know to try and convince you how totally unacceptable you are
to me.'
'Try convincing yourself first,' he came back at her, and Morgana
gasped, swift colour flooding her face.
'Your conceit is boundless!' she raged.
'And so is your capacity for self-deception.' He sounded weary
again. 'Now can we postpone this particular battle to another
occasion? I really would like to see those attics.'
'What do you plan for them?' she asked, turning resignedly
towards the stairs. 'A sauna and massage parlour?'
'I like your thinking,' he approved gravely. 'But as a matter of fact I
was wondering whether they'd convert into a self-contained flat for
your mother and yourself.'
'I suppose you're afraid we should intrude upon your guests.' she
said coldly.
'On the contrary, my main aim is to provide you with a little
privacy—or are you totally devoted to the present arrangement?'
Morgana was tempted to reply 'Yes' stonily, but common sense
prevailed.
'It would be better if we had a place of our own,' she admitted. 'My
father liked the idea of the guests living en famille, but it does get a
little wearing at times.'
'At least we can agree on something,' Lyall commented. 'What are
the attics used for at the moment?'
She shrugged. 'Not a great deal. We never come up here. There's
junk going back for generations. Daddy always meant to sort
everything out—but he didn't get around to it,' she added, giving
him a challenging glance.
Lyall nodded. 'I imagine the condition of the attics was the least of
his problems,' he said drily.
They went up the narrow, uncarpeted secondary stair case which
led to the top floor, Lyall bending his head to avoid the low beams
and arches of the gabled roof.
'I suspect there's worm in these timbers,' he said.
'I don't doubt it,' Morgana said indifferently. 'Well, here are the
attics. The doorway's rather low.'
'You shouldn't have warned me,' he said pleasantly. 'Think of the
enjoyment you could have derived from watching me fracture my
skull.'
The first room they went into was piled high with dusty furniture.
Lyall gave it a cursory glance.
'Infested as well, I expect,' he said. 'The best thing would be to
make a' bonfire of the lot.'
'You can't do that,' Morgana protested. 'There might be some
treasures among it.'
'I think if there were, they'd have found their way downstairs or
more probably to the saleroom by now,' he said coolly, eyeing a
wicker chair with a broken seat. 'However, if you want to sift
through it all, I have no objections.'
She said stiffly, 'You're probably quite right. There's nothing really
worth saving.'
'That's quite an admission,' he said mockingly. 'Can I be sure if I
organise the appropriate bonfire, that I won't be accused of being
an unfeeling vandal?'
She flushed slightly. 'I don't imagine that any accusations I might
level would make a great deal of difference, once your mind was
made up.'
Lyall inclined his head. 'I'm glad you're beginning to see my point
of view.' He stood still, looking around him. 'This room is really
quite spacious. Are the others like this?'
'Most of them are. I think the couple at the end are smaller.'
'So they could potentially convert to a kitchen and bathroom,' he
said thoughtfully.
She shrugged. 'Now that you mention it, I
from here. I do have other things to do. I have to be in Sweden
next week.'
'I'm sure we're all duly impressed,' Morgana said bitterly, and
walked out of the kitchen. She was halfway along the passage
when Lyall caught up with her.
'Pleased with yourself?' he asked drily. 'Feel that you've scored a
few points? Your little barbs aren't hurting me at all, lady, but they
are upsetting your mother for whom you express such profound
concern. I'd like to see some real evidence of it.'
'I'm staying here, aren't I?' she flashed. 'Wasn't that what it was all
about? I'm sorry if you don't like my attitude, but it's the only way
I know to try and convince you how totally unacceptable you are
to me.'
'Try convincing yourself first,' he came back at her, and Morgana
gasped, swift colour flooding her face.
'Your conceit is boundless!' she raged.
'And so is your capacity for self-deception.' He sounded weary
again. 'Now can we postpone this particular battle to another
occasion? I really would like to see those attics.'
'What do you plan for them?' she asked, turning resignedly
towards the stairs. 'A sauna and massage parlour?'
'I like your thinking,' he approved gravely. 'But as a matter of fact I
was wondering whether they'd convert into a self-contained flat for
your mother and yourself.'
'I suppose you're afraid we should intrude upon your guests.' she
said coldly.
'On the contrary, my main aim is to provide you with a little
privacy—or are you totally devoted to the present arrangement?'
Morgana was tempted to reply 'Yes' stonily, but common sense
prevailed.
'It would be better if we had a place of our own,' she admitted. 'My
father liked the idea of the guests living en famille, but it does get a
little wearing at times.'
'At least we can agree on something,' Lyall commented. 'What are
the attics used for at the moment?'
She shrugged. 'Not a great deal. We never come up here. There's
junk going back for generations. Daddy always meant to sort
everything out—but he didn't get around to it,' she added, giving
him a challenging glance.
Lyall nodded. 'I imagine the condition of the attics was the least of
his problems,' he said drily.
They went up the narrow, uncarpeted secondary stair case which
led to the top floor, Lyall bending his head to avoid the low beams
and arches of the gabled roof.
'I suspect there's worm in these timbers,' he said.
'I don't doubt it,' Morgana said indifferently. 'Well, here are the
attics. The doorway's rather low.'
'You shouldn't have warned me,' he said pleasantly. 'Think of the
enjoyment you could have derived from watching me fracture my
skull.'
The first room they went into was piled high with dusty furniture.
Lyall gave it a cursory glance.
'Infested as well, I expect,' he said. 'The best thing would be to
make a' bonfire of the lot.'
'You can't do that,' Morgana protested. 'There might be some
treasures among it.'
'I think if there were, they'd have found their way downstairs or
more probably to the saleroom by now,' he said coolly, eyeing a
wicker chair with a broken seat. 'However, if you want to sift
through it all, I have no objections.'
She said stiffly, 'You're probably quite right. There's nothing really
worth saving.'
'That's quite an admission,' he said mockingly. 'Can I be sure if I
organise the appropriate bonfire, that I won't be accused of being
an unfeeling vandal?'
She flushed slightly. 'I don't imagine that any accusations I might
level would make a great deal of difference, once your mind was
made up.'
Lyall inclined his head. 'I'm glad you're beginning to see my point
of view.' He stood still, looking around him. 'This room is really
quite spacious. Are the others like this?'
'Most of them are. I think the couple at the end are smaller.'
'So they could potentially convert to a kitchen and bathroom,' he
said thoughtfully.
She shrugged. 'Now that you mention it, I
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