Gates of Dawn (2 page)

CHAPTER TWO

THE distance from the station to the White Cottage, which was the name of Mrs. Duplessis
’
small Georgian residence, was about five miles. The road to it led diagonally across the moor, and there was never a moment of the car journey when a view that was calculated to arouse the keenest admiration was not constantly before their eyes.

To Melanie, by this time thoroughly accustomed to it, it had so much charm that it never failed to have the effect of both lifting her spirits and making her want to exclaim aloud at its beauty. Where some people might find it slightly monotonous, she saw the allurement of constantly changing colors, and the splendor of the loneliness which spread for so great a distance on all sides of her. To her there was miracle in a darting beam of sunlight examining its reflection in an unexpected watercourse, and the cool hollows where the wildflowers bloomed in profusion were the hollows frequented by fairies who brushed them with a magic paintbrush. The distant line of purple hills, which turned to rose at sunset, marked the boundary of some unknown but exciting kingdom—or so she, rather childishly, liked to pretend.

But Richard Trenchard, apart from bestowing upon his surroundings an occasional half glance which was too inscrutable to yield any clue to his innermost feelings, was too intent on putting the new car through its paces to have very much interest in anything else. The speedometer crawled from forty-five to fifty, and then from fifty to sixty, and sixty to seventy, and even eighty miles an hour on the white stretch of moorland road. Melan
i
e lay back and watched his hands on the wheel—brown hands, firm and, capable, and with long and sensitive fingers which made it easy for her to believe that his success as a playwright had been well earned. And the determined jut of his chin and the concentration of his dark brows both convinced her of one thing—that nothing he attempted would be easily set aside.

There was very little about him which suggested the artistic temperament—at any rate on the surface. She imagined him a keen business man, and one whom it would be disconcertingly difficult to defraud.

He did not attempt to make conversation, and in fact very few words passed between them during the early part of the drive
back
to Eve Duplessis
’
house. Potch put a tentative paw on his knee occasionally, and Melanie carefully removed it in case he might object, and once he looked down with a dark, unsmiling glance at the bundle of grey fur.

“
Why do women always prefer an apology for an animal instead of the real thing?
”
he
inquired.
“
Why doesn
’
t Eve get herself a recognizable dog?
”

“
And get rid of Potch?
”
Melanie sounded shocked.
“
The poor pet would break its heart if Mrs. Duplessis made up her mind to part with it.
”

“
You women and your broken hearts!
”
he remarked, rather cuttingly.
“
Do you honestly think hearts break so easily?—and that a curious creature like that thing on your lap possesses one?
”

“
Why, of course,
”
Melanie answered, with complete conviction.
“
All animals have the capacity for intense devotion, even white mice. I know, because I once kept white mice.
”

“
You would,
”
he observed, and for the first time shot her a sideways glance that was really filled with amusement.

Melanie looked a little surprised. What was there about her, she wondered, that made it easy for him to believe that she had once kept white mice?

“
Tell me,
”
he commanded, his voice almost friendly,
“
how long have you been with my sister? You weren
’
t here when I came to visit her last, and that was about eighteen months ago. And what, actually, are you supposed to be? What kind of duties do you perform?
”

“
Well—
”
Melanie hesitated before enlightening him—
“
I
’
m really supposed to be her secretary, but I think she likes me as a kind of companion as well. I drive the car, too, and sometimes I do shopping, and even gardening, when I feel like it. I
’
m quite a good gardener, because my father was always interested in horticulture, and exhibited at shows. He won prizes for roses.
”

“
Who and what was your father?
”
he asked.

“
He was an historian, but I
’
m afraid he was rather sunk in a rut for most of his life, poor lamb! And he certainly never made any money! We were always quite distressingly poor, but I think we were rather happier than most people,
”
speaking with a faintly wistful, ruminating inflection in her voice.
“
He
’
s dead now,
”
she added quietly.

“
I see,
”
he said, and there was a note of quite human understanding in his voice.

“
I trained to be a secretary,
”
she explained.
“
I do shorthand and typewriting, and I can keep accounts, and deal with correspondence on my own initiative. In fact I answer most of the letters Mrs. Duplessis receives without bothering her much about them.
”

“
And she can trust you to do that?
”
he inquired, his dark eyebrows arching a little.

“
Why of course,
”
looking considerably astonished.

“
You don
’
t send a note to the Vicar
’
s wife telling her you can
’
t possibly attend the village fete, but you
’
ll let her have a cheque for the new church organ, without first making sure Eve will sign the cheque? If you did it might turn out to be a little awkward for you.
”

“
Naturally I wouldn
’
t do anything quite as stupid and as irresponsible as that,
”
she replied, with so much youthful dignity in her tone that he temporarily forgot the road ahead and even turned his face a little towards her.

His lips twitched. What an unusual,
c
omposed little thing she was, he thought, and those enormous eyes of hers made him think of a doe on a hillside, peering round at him as if suspicious of his somewhat peculiar brand of humor. Apart from that she was not particularly attractive—not, at any rate, according to his standards, and he was used to every variety of beautiful female—but she had a good complexion freed from the use of overmuch make-up, and she was as slender as a willow wand. Actually much too slender. She needed fattening up on good country produce.

“
Well, I
’
m quite sure my sister must find you most efficient, otherwise she wouldn
’
t have kept you for as long as a week,
”
he told her soothingly.
“
Eve always demands her money
’
s worth, and like Shylock she expects her pound of flesh. So long as you don
’
t permit her to exact more than the pound which is her due.
”

“
Mrs. Duplessis is quite a reasonable employer,
”
she replied to that—unable to state truthfully that she was a considerate employer—with a touch of stiffness, for she did not regard criticisms of a relative as becoming in one who was to stay as a guest.

“
Good!
”
he exclaimed, and suddenly swung the car through the main gates and on to the broad gravel sweep before the White Cottage.
“
She seems to be lucky, too. Or she evidently knows how to pick her employees!
”

But she could not be absolutely certain of his complete seriousness as he made that remark, and she more than suspected a faint twinkle in his eyes.

His sister was awaiting them in the hall when they entered it. She was wearing a fine grey woollen dress which fitted her perfectly, and her greying hair had been treated to a delicate blue rinse which emphasized the curious flawlessness of her complexion—unless it was the effect of the new face-pack! Seeing them together it was easy for Melanie to decide that Richard was at least ten years younger than Mrs. Duplessis, and that he was probably somewhere in the neighborhood of thirty-five or forty.

There was no effusion in their greeting. Eve offered him her cheek, which must have struck even him as remarkably cool and pleasant to the touch, and which smelled delightfully of some subtle perfume. Then they repaired to the library, where a tray of drinks were set forth on a handsome bu
r
l table, and Melanie accepted a glass of orange squash in preference to anything stronger, while her employer and her guest drank martinis.

Richard Trenchard looked tall and broad-shouldered but rather elegantly spare as he stood there in front of the flower-filled fireplace, and his flinty grey eyes barely smiled as he acknowledged his sister
’
s uplifted glass.

Lunch was served very soon after that, and the shining table in the dining-room was d
ecorated with some gorgeous spik
y mauve dahlias in a bowl of beaten Burmese silver.

Richard appeared to wish to concentrate on his meal and not to indulge in conversation—not idle conversation, that is, for which he plainly had little time—and his sister
’
s polite questioning drew forth only monosyllabic responses.

She asked him about the success of his current play, his recent visit to Italy, and how long he had stayed in Paris on the way back. About friends and relatives in London, including a certain Great-Aunt Amelia who resided, apparently, in a little house in Hill Street, and was remarkably hale for her age, which was close upon a hundred. She it was who was to leave Richard all she possessed when she did eventually depart this life, although Richard was in the fortunate position of being able to care little when, if ever, that event occurred.

“
And Noel? How is she?
”
Mrs. Duplessis inquired at last, when she seemed to be running out of conversational openings.

Richard Trenchard frowned. Watching him secretly while she crumbled her bread Melanie thought that a muscle at one corner of his tightly compressed lips became tautened and twitched a little, as if he was suddenly possessed by a feeling of irritation, although his voice was quite level as he replied,
“
I have been requested to remove her from her school. She is not, apparently, doing very well.
”

“
Really?
”
Eve
’
s eyebrows were upraised.
“
You mean her work is not good?
”

“
No,
”
shortly,
“
I mean her health.
”

Mrs. Duplessis stared at him across the table, and since like her brother she seldom betrayed complete astonishment she merely, on this occasion, looked rather more interested than surprised.

“
In what way is her health affected?
”
she asked. Richard Trenchard refused the sweet course, but finished the remains of the excellent but very dry white wine with which his sister had regaled them during the meal, and which remained at the bottom of his glass.

“
I don
’
t quite know,
”
he confessed.
“
But from the information I have received she is always catching colds and running high temperatures, and it is thought that the air of the East Coast is not entirely suited to her. Or at any rate the matron has decided that she would rather be rid of her responsibility. That
’
s why I
’
ve made up my mind to buy Wold House, if it
’
s at all worthy of purchase.
”

“
I see,
”
his sister commented.
“
Well, probably it
’
s a good plan for you to have a more permanent kind of home than the flat which you now occupy in London—although I imagine you
’
ll keep that on as well?—but it seems a little hard that the responsibility for Andrew
’
s child should rest upon you, more especially as you happen to be a bachelor. I know,
”
rather more hastily,
“
that blood is thicker than water, and so forth, and poor Andrew naturally expected one of us would either take her or make arrangements for
her welfare
—”

“
I don
’
t suppose for a single instant that Andrew ever imagined
you
would take her, my dear Eve,
”
Richard interrupted her coldly, looking at her—or so Melanie imagined—almost disdainfully.

Eve
’
s delicate color rose slightly in her smooth cheeks.
“
Well, Andrew could hardly expect it,
”
she said clearly, in her cool voice.
“
After all, my house is quite unsuited to a child—for one thing it is not large enough—and from the child
’
s point of view it is much better that she should be sent away to school and have the benefit of young associates. If the East Coast doesn
’
t suit her there are plenty of other excellent schools in more sheltered parts of the country.
”

“
And in the holidays?
”
Richard queried.
“
What do you suggest she should do in the holidays?
”

“
What she has done for the last few years, if a healthy spot is chosen for her—remain at school!
”

“
As simple as all that!
”
Richard murmured, and helped himself to a peach from the piled-up basket of fruit on the table. He prepared it very carefully.
“
At the same time I think I should like to acquire what you are pleased to describe as a more permanent home of my own, and that being so there is no reason why Noel—Elaine
’
s as well as Andrew
’
s daughter!—should not come to it during her holidays. I have no aversion to children as such, although I admit I have little time for them, and if someone is found to take charge of her while she is with me the matter becomes quite uncomplicated. I naturally do not wish to have her thrust upon me during my working hours, but I am not altogether inhuman.
”

“
Which, at the bottom of your heart, you consider I am?
”

“
Not at all, my dear Eve. You are responsible to no one for your actions, and why s
h
ould you be? You have your own income—quite a sufficient income!—and you are naturally rather set in your ways.
”

He lifted his eyes from the peach and something glimmered in them a trifle mockingly as they took in the outward perfection of her appearance.

“
This is excellent fruit,
”
he pronounced, as he tasted it.

“
Those are home-ripened peaches,
”
Mrs. Duplessis informed him, and she still looked almost completely composed.
“
And naturally the fact that Noel is Elaine
’
s daughter does make a difference—to you, at least!
”
she murmured.

Richard Trenchard allowed the shaft to pass off him.
“
Quite,
”
he agreed, without embarrassment.
“
For, if Elaine had married me instead of Andrew, Noel might so easily have been my own daughter!
”

“
That was what I was thinking,
”
his sister informed him very gently, smiling with great amiability as she pushed the decanter towards him.
“
By the way,
”
she added,
“
how old is Noel now?
”

“
She will be sixteen in a few months
’
time.
”

“
Rather a difficult age in a girl. I hope you will find someone satisfactory to take charge of her during the holidays.
”

“
I hope so,
”
he echoed smoothly, and rose and pushed back his chair.
“
In the meantime I should like to borrow your car this afternoon and go and look at Wold House.
”

“
Of course,
”
she answered immediately.
“
And you can have Melanie to drive you.
”

“
Thank you, but I do not require your Miss Melanie. I made that quite clear to her this morning!
”

Eve looked amused, and Melanie, glancing up at him, saw that he meant what he said.

“
Melanie is quite a good and careful driver,
”
her employer spoke for her.
“
And in any case I wish you to take her with you so that she can tell me what the house is really like.
”

‘“
Why not come yourself?
”
he suggested reasonably.

“
Because I simply couldn
’
t summon up the energy! I was playing bridge with the Baxters until three o
’
clock this morning, and I haven
’
t fully recovered even yet. Late nights have a kind of devastating effect upon me, but I can
’
t resist them just the same.
”

“
You hardly look devastated,
”
he observed, studying her with a kind of disinterested criticism.

“
Thank you, Richard,
”
a little drawlingly.
“
You
’
ll be telling me next that I wear well! Also I have some friends coming in for tea this afternoon, so I am not free.
”

“
Very well.
”
He turned abruptly to Melanie.
“
Then if you won
’
t take longer than ten minutes to get ready I will take you with me, Miss Brooks,
”
he said.
“
But I shan
’
t wait longer
than ten minutes!
”

Melanie joined him on the drive beside the car in a little under eight and a half minutes. She was wearing a light coat over her primrose jumper, for the mists sometimes swept down over the moor towards tea-time now that the summer was practically over, and had run a hasty comb through her soft brown hair so that it curled attractively back from her face.

She looked at hi
m
to see whether he realized she had a minute and a half to spare, and he nodded and actually smiled at her in approval.

“
Good girl!
”
he remarked.
“
Eve could never have managed that. You
’
certainly are a little unusual.
”

Melanie felt curiously pleased. Once more she lay back in her seat beside him at the wheel of the car while he let in his clutch smoothly, and once again they were out on the wide, white moorland road. But the sun had gone in and the afternoon looked grey and still. The distant hills were shrouded already in a kind of haze, and a heron winged its flight overhead.

The car leapt forward like a live thing. Melanie watched the hills draw nearer.