Falcon's Keep
Page 7
Luke glanced in her direction briefly. ‘No, why should I have? I’ve absolutely no control over Ginny’s movements. She’s a completely free agent.’
‘That’s not the impression I gathered,’ Rikki protested. ‘You made no secret of the fact that you took an extremely dim view of her meeting my unsuitable friends.’
For a moment, to Ginny’s surprise, Luke’s impassive face registered a faint embarrassment, but he refused to rise to Rikki’s bait and except for a few desultory remarks that had no bearing on the activities of the following day the meal proceeded in comparative silence.
That night as she lay on her wide bed and watched the clouds pass across the great silver moon that slanted through the tall trees Ginny admitted to herself that she felt vaguely uncomfortable concerning the Cliffords’ advent. Life was difficult enough at Falcon’s Keep without the added complication of establishing new relationships with completely unknown people. She was, too, faintly nervous at the idea of having to deal with a woman of the world as Anthea Clifford undoubtedly must be. Whether plain or beautiful she would have had experiences far beyond Ginny Lovelace’s. No one at Mrs. Clarkson’s had had even remote connections with the type of life that Anthea Clifford must lead, so she had no clue as to what attitudes she should adopt. She felt gauche and inexperienced and was uncomfortably aware that her very ineptitude would show her at a disadvantage with Luke. She wished passionately for a moment that she were self-possessed and quick-tongued, capable of dealing in a decisive and final manner with Luke Kendrick’s aggressiveness.
She clenched her hands as she remembered the conversation she had overheard that evening between him and Mrs. Hingston. She had been passing through the hall on her way to the main staircase when she had heard voices in the passage. Mrs. Hingston’s loud precise tones had reached her clearly.
‘And where exactly am I to put the Cliffords, Mr. Luke?’ she had demanded. ‘I’ve spoken to the master, but he told me to leave it to you. ’
‘Oh, the Cliffords!’ Luke had sounded uninterested. ‘Just wherever you think, Mrs. Hingston. You’d know best.’
‘Well, I’m sure I don’t,’ Mrs. Hingston had said, bridling. ‘It’s not for me to say where guests should be put. If I had my choice in the first place Miss Lovelace would not have been put in the Peacock Room, I can tell you. ’
‘Oh, and why not?’ Luke’s voice had sounded amused and faintly interested.
‘Because,’ Mrs. Hingston had blurted out as though she were saying something that had been dammed up for quite a long while, ‘it’s not at all the kind of surroundings she’s used to - anyone can see that. The Peacock Room is for someone who could appreciate it. ’
‘I see.’ Luke’s voice had been dry. ‘And do you rate Mrs. Clifford or her daughter as being worthy of that honour?’
Mrs. Hingston had sniffed, ‘I’ll be able to say that better when I’ve seen them, Master Luke.’
Ginny had sped across the hall, terrified that she should be discovered. She had not meant to listen, but had been almost hypnotically glued to the spot, when she had heard her name mentioned. Well, listeners never heard good of themselves, she thought a little ruefully, and Mrs. Hingston had been wrong as far as her appreciation of the Peacock Room was concerned. To her it was like a little enchanted world of its own. When she entered and closed the door behind her she was surrounded by gracious lines and beautiful objects. Lying in the great wide bed with its exquisite hangings, she felt cherished like a princess, mistress of her own domain.
She was drifting into sleep when suddenly she was jolted into wakefulness as the thought suddenly crossed her mind -suppose she were to lose the Peacock Room! Obviously Luke was leaving all arrangements concerning the Cliffords in Mrs. Hingston’s competent hands. The housekeeper resented and disliked her. Suppose she were to consider either of the Cliffords more suitable occupants, might she not inveigle old Mr. Kendrick into permitting her quietly to despoil Ginny of her treasured domain?
Gradually as she drifted into sleep she assured herself that this idea was only a product of her own unease concerning the new arrivals: a manifestation of her insecurity and feelings of inadequacy and, although she was loath to admit it to herself, a faint jealousy of the unknown Anthea Clifford.
On the following morning Mrs. Hingston arrived as usual and except for a slight increase in her habitual severity gave no indication that the Cliffords’ arrival was going to discompose her in the slightest. She laid down the tray decisively on the bedside table, making the delicate china give a silvery tinkle. ‘Master Rikki asked me to tell you that he’s driving down to the station after breakfast; He says you’re going with him?’ she questioned.
Ginny gazed at her, a little surprised at the open curiosity in her voice. Mrs. Hingston’s remarks were usually completely impersonal and strictly conventional.
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘it’s such a lovely day I expect I’ll enjoy the drive.’
Mrs. Hingston’s lips moved in a disbelieving smile and Ginny was conscious that her reply had been a little hypocritical. Was it not that she was overcome with eagerness to see the new arrival, to study her quietly before she returned to Falcon’s Keep?
‘If you ask me,’ Mrs. Hingston said, straightening the toast rack severely, ‘she’ll be no better than she ought to be. Some of them plays she’s appeared in have been nothing less than shocking. I’ve read all about them in the newspapers. A real Jezebel she must be — not at all the type of person we’re used to having here at Falcon’s Keep.’
Nor am I, Ginny thought a little ruefully.
Evidently Mrs. Hingston concluded that she had gone too far, for, suddenly straightening herself, she said with the return of her old formality, ‘Then I shall tell Mr. Rikki that you’ll be ready after breakfast,’ and without waiting for Ginny’s assent she marched to the door.
A little reluctantly Ginny decided to forgo the thorough dusting she had intended to give to her room. She had been looking forward to shining up the intricate carving, making the black hardwood chairs shine like ebony and polishing up the golden oak floor surrounding the old Indian carpet.
There was no one in the breakfast room when she entered, and immediately her eye was attracted to the wide envelope that lay by her place at table. Since she had arrived at Falcon’s Keep she had received no communications from Mrs. Clarkson’s. She knew that Mrs. Clarkson hated letter-writing and was usually too busy, and had resigned herself a little ruefully to receiving an occasional card, so that she wondered with a little feeling of excitement who could possibly be getting in touch with her.
As she tore open the envelope she saw with pleasure that the letter was in Miss Conway’s small precise writing. Eagerly her eyes scanned the lines. Miss Conway told her the little bits of gossip that had occurred since she had left: how Professor Norris had set off on one of his expeditions in high hopes that his discoveries would create a stir in archaeological circles, that Lester Philips had left soon after her departure and that Mrs. Morley was proving as difficult as ever. She ended up by conveying Mrs. Clarkson’s warmest regards, but underneath the chatter Ginny detected a tone of loneliness.
Yet, somehow, the news from Clarkson’s, which such a short time previously would have given her a feeling of belonging and having roots, now seemed to have no part in her present life, and she felt a little moment of panic as she remembered that she was only a transient visitor at Falcon’s Keep. In all probability she would be returning to her old life again, a life of drab routine in which one day followed on another with depressing similarity.
Slowly she laid down the letter and glanced frowningly through the window. In spite of the sunshine that flooded the lawn she felt depressed and wondered what had happened to the feeling of happy expectancy with which she had opened Miss Conway’s letter.
‘From your expression I’d say you are finding your stay at Falcon’s Keep uncongenial,’ a voice said dryly, and, glancing up, she found Luke regarding her from the door.
‘And who exactly is Miss Conway?’ he asked, taking his place.
‘Oh, I forgot, you don’t know about the people at Clarkson’s! She was one of the lodgers and was always very kind to me. In fact it was she who bought my clothes before I came here. You see, I’d practically no money,’ she ended simply.
His dark eyes regarded her with steady concentration. ‘Very few girls would have admitted to that - or are you simply being deliberately naive?’
The savagery of the remark struck her dumb and she stared at him helplessly.
‘No, I don’t suppose you are,’ he went on thoughtfully, as though completely uninterested in her reactions. ‘You’re much too forthright a person to play a game like that. ’
Puzzlement had succeeded her initial dismay. ‘But why should you imagine I would do such a thing?’
‘For the very good reason that you’d have been sharp enough to realize that it would be better to appear naive and unsophisticated, rather than an opportunist. It would be a role, for instance, that would appeal very much to my grandfather, even if it didn’t impress me.’
‘Why do you hate me so much?’ she blurted out suddenly.
A look of genuine astonishment crossed his face. ‘Hate you? Why, what makes you think that?’
‘Ever since I’ve come here,’ Ginny said, clenching her hands, ‘you’ve let me realize how you dislike my presence. I know it must appear to you as though I was using the opportunity to better myself, but actually it wasn’t just as simple as that.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘No? Then what exactly was the reason?’
She glanced through the window and said slowly, ‘I suppose it was that I hoped life held something more for me than being general factotum at Clarkson’s. I thought of Falcon’s Keep as a beautiful and gracious background and that perhaps, as a vague far-out Kendrick, I might receive a certain amount of—’ she hesitated, then said, ‘well, warmth and recognition. I know it was only a silly dream, the sort of thing that any girl in my position would long for.’
She was unaware of the grave considering glance he directed at her small pointed face. Her velvety eyes were dreamy and introspective as she gazed across the lawn to the woods beyond.
‘So the only thing you did find was the gracious background! ’
She glanced at him quickly and smiled a little. ‘Actually it’s much more beautiful than I had ever imagined it. You see, when I thought of Falcon’s Keep I thought of formal gardens and yew walks - the sort of thing you see in glossy magazines. But instead it’s wild and magnificent, a hundred times more lovely than I had hoped. ’
Slowly his wide mouth parted in an answering smile and their eyes met in a look that made Ginny’s heart beat fast. It was as though her words had held the key to communication with this proud, reserved man.
‘You are a strange little person, aren’t you, Ginny Lovelace?’ he said softly. ‘Who’d have thought that the Kendricks would have such a romantic little sprig labouring
away in some guesthouse basement!’
Just then Rikki appeared at the open French window. ‘Do my eyes deceive me, or are you two actually regarding each other with a certain amount of favour?’ he drawled.
Ginny felt a strange little stab of disappointment as she saw Luke’s face regain its usual gravity and reticence in his brother’s presence.
‘If you don’t hurry you’ll miss that train,’ he said shortly. Rubbing his hands cheerfully, Rikki crossed to the table and plumped himself down. ‘And that’s one thing I certainly don’t intend to do, dear boy, I just can’t wait to lay these old optics on this glorious Clifford creature!’
Luke stood up. ‘Just as long as you remember,’ he remarked dryly, ‘that some actresses can be extraordinarily hideous at close quarters.’
Rikki let his face fall in mock dismay. ‘What are you trying to do, ruin my digestion?’
Rather impatiently Luke strode from the room. ‘What’s wrong with Luke,’ said Rikki, tucking into his breakfast with enthusiasm, ‘is that he’s inclined to take a misanthropic view of women generally. Why, is beyond me, for, as far as I know, he’s never been crossed in love! Of course,’ he added thoughtfully, ‘one can never tell, and he’s rather a dark horse, you know.’
‘He certainly takes a pessimistic view of women,’ Ginny said a little dolefully.
Rikki paused with poised fork. ‘Don’t mean to tell me you care?’
‘Of course not,’ Ginny said hurriedly. ‘It’s simply, I suppose, that one longs to be liked.’
‘Well, the sooner you get over that in this house, the better,’ Rikki remarked bracingly, ‘for we’re all rather inclined to be at odds with each other. Luke takes a dim view of my grandfather’s enthusiasms. Grandfather disapproves of me, and Mrs. Hingston disapproves of everyone.’
Ginny laughed. There was something gay and insouciant about Rikki and, in spite of his obvious faults, one couldn’t help one’s spirits rising in his company.
‘Perhaps your grandfather was right. Perhaps he needs a softening feminine influence.’
‘Now there’s one point where I agree with Grandfather,’ he said, ‘but suppose he had hit on two elderly types in button boots, how ghastly it would have been. ’
‘You forget there’s Mrs. Clifford,’ Ginny reminded him slyly.
‘I’ve a way with elderly ladies,’ he replied. ‘There won’t be the smallest opposition, I can assure you. I fully expect she’ll be eating out of my hand within a short time of her arrival.’
Ginny glanced at him mischievously. ‘You remind me of Professor Norris. He was an optimist too — always expecting that some day he’d be called away on an expedition and dig up something wonderful that would make his name.’
‘There you go again,’ Rikki frowned, ‘running off at a tangent. Who’s this Professor Norris anyway - not another man in your love-life?’
Ginny giggled as she remembered the Professor’s fuzzy white hair and general air of ineptitude. ‘He was like a dear little furry bear,’ she said, ‘and I was very fond of him. But of course,’ she added thoughtfully, ‘not in that way.’
Rikki groaned. ‘I’m not surprised Luke can’t make head or tail of you. You’re the weirdest little character I ever came across. I’ve half a mind to fall in love with you! ’
‘Oh no, you won’t,’ Ginny said, a little wise smile touching her lips. ‘You’re already in love with Muriel Johnson.’
‘I’m a man of many parts,’ Rikki said lightly, ‘and I believe in keeping Muriel up to scratch by a judicious flirtation now and again. ’
‘In that case,’ Ginny said, ‘you will probably be smitten by Anthea Clifford, who will be tall and dark and beautiful and mysterious.’
Rikki jumped to his feet with his usual impetuosity. ‘In that
case, let’s get going. I can hardly wait to meet my fate! ’
As she took her place beside him in the car which was parked beneath the terrace Ginny wondered just how serious Rikki’s affair with Muriel really was, and if he were as experienced a philanderer as he would like her to believe. He was rather a complex person, she decided as they sped along the road in his usual reckless manner. In his own way, almost as incomprehensible as his brother Luke.
In spite of Luke’s prognostications they were a little early for the train and sat in the car in the station yard until they saw it approach. As it disgorged its passengers, Ginny glanced eagerly through the window in an effort to detect the Cliffords.
‘Let’s hope this isn’t she,’ Rikki said in an alarmed voice. A blockily built young girl and a middle-aged woman stood gazing about as though expecting to be met, but to his relief they were soon joined by an elderly man who greeted them enthusiastically and hurried them away. Only two people now remained on the platform: a short stout woman, her head
swathed in a tulle turban and liberally strewn with jewellery, was fussily supervising the removal of a great quantity of luggage while a tall stately girl with long blonde hair gazed about with wide-eyed interest. Her honey-gold hair glowed in the thin wintry sunlight and Rikki gave a low whistle of disbelief.
‘So much for Luke’s pessimism! He’s going to get a shock when he sees this latest member of the Kendrick family. I think it’s time you and I advanced and offered our felicitations.’
As he got out with alacrity Ginny followed him a little more slowly, trying to analyse a strange new sensation that seemed to clutch at her very being. Yes, Luke would be surprised - but would any man be capable of resisting this glorious creature? As they advanced Ginny could see that she was even more beautiful than she had seemed at first glance. Her wide smoky blue eyes were fringed with dark silky lashes, and the perfect oval face had a faint golden
bloom.
‘You must be Rikki Kendrick,’ she said. Her voice was low and husky and was doubly attractive coming from one with such a femininely fragile appearance. ‘You’re much handsomer than I expected,’ she went on, without the smallest trace of self-consciousness.
Even the extrovert Rikki seemed taken aback at her direct approach. ‘Glad you think so,’ he grinned, ‘and may I return the compliment?’
As he introduced Ginny she was aware of being scanned by the blue eyes that were suddenly aware and calculating. She was much shorter, she realized, than this new relation with the exquisite clothes and air of cosmopolitan sophistication.
‘Ginny Lovelace,’ Anthea repeated, ‘what a charming name!’ But she made no secret of the fact that her attention was fully centred on the handsome Rikki.
It was at this point that Mrs. Clifford bustled forward. She was in complete contrast to her cool, statuesque daughter. Fussy and over-dressed, she greeted Rikki volubly. ‘ Anthea is completely worn out,’ she informed them. ‘In spite of the fact they’re simply clamouring for her, I told her it was time she took a rest. After all, what are understudies for? It was nothing but one reception after another. She’s so much in demand, you know. All she longs for now is a good long rest, isn’t that right, dear?’