Dark inheritance (26 page)

Miss Clements settled down stolidly to her new job and Barbara knew it would not be long before Aunt Ellie transferred her dependence to the new companion. By Thursday she had taken the reins completely and Barbara realized that there was no reason or her to stay any longer.

Capriciously, the weather was serene and beautiful.
and Crags' Height seemed to mellow and soften for the
first time since she had been there. Barbara went for her last walk in the afternoon, leaving Miss Clements to continue reading to Aunt Ellie where she had le off, and climbed up to Lloyd's Folly to take one final look at the wonderful countryside. How different it
looked in the sunshine! Even up on this exposed height
the air was perfectly still, the only movement the distant flash and sparkle of the sea.

She took a last, long look and then with a heavy heart began to retrace her steps.

After a sleepless night she woke early and lay listening to the first sounds of day as the silver half-light intensified to the radiance of (lawn. Emily served her breakfast in bed and she was glad not to have
to face Dominic at the table on her last morning. When
she had eaten as much as she could she took her empty tray downstairs and at the bottom of the hall paused in surprise as through the half-open front door she saw Mark's racing car parked in the drive. Almost imme
diately the man himself came into the hall from the
dining-room,

Barbara stared, amazed that he had the effrontery to come back when he must have realized his theft of Aunt Ellie's jewellery had been discovered. But he came forward with his usual nonchalance, seemingly quite impervious to what she must be thinking.

"Hullo, Barbara, my dear. You're up bright and early."

"What are you doing here? I thought "

"Come to sec my cousin, of course How's the old girl?"

"Better now. She was very ill, you know," Barbara
said with deliberation. "She had a bad shock when she
discovered her jewellery was missing."

He regarded her blandly. "Really? Sorry to hear that I'll pop up and see her as soon as I've seen
Dominic. What's this I hear about her getting a new
companion?"

He seemed so much at ease that Barbara began to think they had misjudged him, but the way his eyes fell when they met hers suddenly made her believe that Rockwood's suspicions had been justified. How
ever, she was saved from having to answer his question
by Gina appearing at the head of the stairs.

"Hullo, Mark!" She sauntered down towards him,
her graceful figure outlined against the sunshine stream
ing through the window behind her. "How lovely to
sec you!
I'd
have come down earlier if I'd known you
were here, but I had such a late night last night that I can hardly keep my eyes open." Then to Barbara:
"Tell Emily to bring me some black coffee in the
drawing-room, will you? I can't face breakfast."

Without a word Barbara went into the kitchen with her tray, leaving Gina and Mark talking by the foot of the stairs.

Emily grunted when she received Gina's order. "Who
does she think she is, using you as her messenger?" "Never mind, she won't have another opportunity." Emily looked suddenly tearful but said nothing and Barbara patted her arm and went out by the kitchen door to where Evans was digging vegetables. "Morning, miss."

"Good morning, Evans. My luggage is ready if you'd like to bring it down for me."

The surly face warmed into a smile. "Pleasure, miss.
When will you be wanting me to drive you to the station?"

"I've ordered the village taxi, thank you."
"There is foolish of you, miss, when I'd have taken you myself. Not that I'm glad to sec you go."

"And I'm not glad to be going. But I'm sure you'll like Miss Clements."

Evans made no reply and Barbara went back through the kitchen and into the hall, just in time to
see the front door open and Rockwood come in. He had
obviously been working in the fields since early morning, for his corduroy breeches were smeared with earth
and his white shirt, open at the neck, clung in damp
patches to his chest.

After the bright sunlight outside, the darkness of the
hall made it impossible for him to see, but as his eyes grew accustomed to the change of light he noticed Mark.

"What the devil are you doing here?"

Mark returned his look coolly. "Not a very warm welcome, but I suppose I can hardly expect it" He put
his hands in his pockets and leant against the lintel.
"Get out, you thieving blackguard!" Threateningly
Rockwood took a step towards him, but Mark made no move.

"I'd be careful of name-calling if I were you — you might not like what I'd call you in return,"

A red tide of colour swept over Rockwood's face
and neck. "You can have nothing to say to mc so you'd
better get out or I'll throw you out."

"On the contrary, I have a great deal to say to you, and I'm not going until I've said it. If you like I'll say
it here and now, but for your own sake I suggest I tell
you alone."

Rockwood's hands clenched at his sides. Then with
out a word he strode across the hall into the study,
Mark following more slowly and closing the door be
hind then.

Barbara had remained unnoticed during this little scene but the raw hatred between the two men had
left her almost afraid and she hurried upstairs and star
ted to get ready. Whatever was going to happen be
tween the two cousins could mean nothing to her now
and the sooner she was out of the house and away from
their influence on her life, the better.

Hurriedly she put on her hat and coat, and carrying her bag and gloves in her hand went along the corridor
to Aunt Ellie's room. The old lady's good-bye was tear
ful, and but for the presence of Miss Clements would have been more protracted.

"You will come and visit mc, won't you?" Aunt Ellie said, plaintively.

"If I can manage it," Barbara lied.

"Good. Now give mc your address. There's a pencil
and pad on the bureau. Where will you be staying, dear?"

"I've booked a room for the next few weeks at a boarding house in Kensington." Hastily she scribbled the address. "I'll be there until I get another job."

Quickly she bent and kissed her for the last time and
then, with a brief smile to the elderly companion, went downstairs.

Her cases were already standing by the hail door
awaiting the arrival of the taxi and she went in the drawing
-room to say good-bye to Gina. From the study Mark's voice could be heard raised in anger, but it was impossible to hear what he was saying and she closed the drawing-room door behind her.

Gina put down the magazine she was reading and smiled at her graciously.

"I almost envy you going back to town, my dear. But I hope I'll soon be leaving myself. Do come backstage and see me if you come to the show."

"I didn't know you were going to be in one," Barbara said politely.

"I shall be, as soon as I can persuade Dominic that
it's more interesting to hold the reins of theatrical ma
agreement than the reins of a plough-horse." She twirled
one slim foot. "Somehow I don't think it'll be long. Bu
I mustn't keep talking about myself like this. I hop your plans will be successful too. What arc you "

She broke off as the door burst open and Rockwood
strode into the room, his eyes blazing, his face white and startled. Mark entered behind him, following
quickly this time, his face flushed, and his triumphant
bearing somewhat discomfited.

"Come along, Mark," Rockwood said loudly, "I want
you to repeat everything you've just told me. Tell Gina and Barbara the result of your snooping in London.
Tell them what you discovered about mc in the murky
solicitor's office and the result of your days of hard work and persistence. Go on, tell them—see how much I care!"

"Blast you, there's no need to make it public,"
Mark broke in angrily. "I thought "

"You thought I was going to mind, didn't you? Well,
you thought wrong. I'm afraid you've been mistaken in
your plan of campaign. Come on out with it, tell them
what you've just told me. Or are you too sensitive to do so in front of an audierre?"

"I'm not sensitive," Mark sneered, "but I thought you'd be. Not everyone would want to make it public,"

"But I'm not 'everyone', dear cousin. Your psychology is faulty, as it always has been. You have to say something, so out with it, there is no such tiling as family loyalty to stand in your way now!"

"I'd no intention of telling anyone but you." It was a surly statement.

"Not out of respect for my feelings, though, but
because you wanted to try and blackmail me instead!"
He threw back his head triumphantly. "Well, I won't be blackmailed. There is no shame in the truth and I don't care who knows it,"

"Dominic, what is all this about?" Gina broke in impatiently.

He wheeled round on her. "It's a long story and it goes back a great many years. Thirty-six to be precise
— when I was born. It seems my dear cousin was not
satisfied that my father had dealt generously with him,
and in the hope of finding something to his benefit he
visited my father's old solicitors and found an early
will that by some mischance had never been destroyed.
It had apparently been made when I was about a year old, and in it my father left a large sum of money to a
man and woman none of us has ever heard of."

"What's that got to do with you? I don't sec the connection.

"Ah, but you haven't got Mark's twisted astuteness."
Rockwood moved over to the fireplace and stood with
his back to the portrait. "Mark was curious as to why
this unknown couple should benefit so handsomely when
he himself felt so hard done by, and he started to wonder what link there was between my father and these two people. Perhaps there was some secret he
could discover to my detriment and use it to blackmail
me. With this in mind he went down to Somerset where
the man and woman lived, only to find that they had both died about twenty years ago. But did that
deter him? On the contrary, he set about his investiga
tions more assiduously than ever and unearthed some
extremely interesting facts. Far be it from me to dear
my cousin's ingenuity—he worked more arduously at this task than he has ever worked for a living, and it's a pity he will get so little reward."

Gina looked from one to the other. "Mark, what is all this? Dominic doesn't seem to be getting to the point, and Id like to know."

But Mark merely swore and turned away.

"Your curiosity will soon be satisfied," Rockwood went on. "Mark discovered that this couple had owned a small inn which they had run with the help of their son and his wife—a pretty young thing who was expecting a baby. It seemed that they were ideally happy when tragedy struck. The young husband was killed trying to stop a runaway horse, and the wife who saw the accident happen in front of her eyes never recovered from the shock. She had her baby prematurely and died giving birth to it."

"I still don't see what all this has got to do with you," Gina said petulantly.

"Don't you, my dear?" Rockwood paused, then continued: "Not content with this discovery, Mark went one step further and began to question the villagers-Although it was such a long time ago there were still a few of them who remembered that at the time this tragedy occurred there was another couple staying at the inn. A young man and his wife, an excitable creature who took a great fancy to the orphaned baby—so great a fancy that she persuaded the grandparents to let her adopt it. Whether they felt they were too old to bring up the boy satisfactorily, or that this rich, childless couple could give it so much more materially, I don't know, but suffice to say that they agreed and the couple left the inn with the child, never to return." Barbara drew a sharp breath, but he went on remorselessly: "There was one other point that Mark found out at the same time, namely that the boy had red hair like his grandfather, and had been named Dominic."

Gina stood up quickly and moved across to him.
"You mean you ?"