by Trevallion
How strange they were, thought Anna, watching Alix in her green taffeta, the candlelight spilling on her smooth flesh and the ripe, tantalizing beauty of her barely concealed breasts. She saw Rick's eyes dwell on her, then return with an enigmatical expression to herself. She could never compete with Alix, she thought humbly. She had worn the fresh white organdie with the many petticoats which had been bought for Toby, but beside Alix's somehow savage elegance, she felt callow and prim.
"Aren't you enjoying yourself?" Rick asked, and she was aware that his eyes were on her, appraising, a little mocking.
"Of course," she said quickly. "It's a wonderful pie."
His eyes continued to appraise her. She looked like a little girl, he thought, with her stiff white skirts and the soft hair falling in a pale curtain about her neck.
"Twenty today," he said softly, and Alix leaned idolent elbows on the table.
"Such a boring age," she said. "At twenty, Rick, one has no conception of what one wants. Don't you agree, Anna?"
"No," said Anna, surprising herself by her own certainty. "I think one can know very well what one wants."
"Do you?" Alix drawled in her husky voice. "You must be exceptional, then. Take care, darling, that you don't tread on people's toes to get it."
"I've never," Anna said gently, "been in a position to tread on anyone's toes."
"Alix!" said Mrs. Peveril from the end of the table, "remember that Anna will scarcely know what you're talking about. Shall we go in? The midges are biting badly tonight and the evening mists aren't too good for me at my age."
They began to disperse. Ruth, unexpectedly, lifted one of the candelabra and said:
"Let's take the candles in with us. Much nicer than lamps."
"You are in an unfamiliar mood, my child," Mrs. Peveril remarked with a certain bite, but Anna, knowing how Ruth must feel after that hurried interview with David, picked up the second candelabrum.
"Yes, let's," she said. "There's something about candlelight, isn't there?"
"Yes," said Rick unexpectedly, watching the soft light fall on the stiff white folds of her frock, on the muted tones of her hair and her anxious, delicate face, and the pearls, smooth and translucent on her faintly tanned flesh. He took the candelabrum from her.
"Go into the house," he said gently. "I'll carry this."
The rest of the evening seemed much as any other, but to Anna there was a subde difference. Perhaps it was: the candles, spilling pools of light, so that the shadows and the people sitting in them were remote and mysterious, perhaps it was Rick, touching her as he passed her chair, or watching her from the shadows.
Mrs. Peveril seemed to take undue pleasure in Anna's gift, returning again and again to examine it. Perhaps because her family's presents had been useful and suitable, rather than imaginative, she appeared to take an inordinate delight in Anna's small gift, or perhaps, thought Anna, who was becoming familiar with Peveril vagaries, she was merely being perverse.
"Where did you find it, Anna?" Alix asked at last, bored with the whole discussion. "In Merrynporth."
"Can't be worth much," Alix said. "Merrynporth caters for the tourist. What did you pay for it, Anna?"
"Alix!" Old Mrs. Peveril's voice cracked out like a whip and Alix looked genuinely surprised. She was used to hearing that tone addressed to others but never to herself.
As the evening wore on they seemed, each of them, to be drawn into themselves. Ruth brooded on her own affairs, Alix on matters which Anna could only guess at, and Mrs. Peveril became oddly reminiscent, reminding Rick of other years and other birthdays. She looked tired, Anna thought, and realized for the first time that Rick's grandmother was a very old lady, that for all her alert dominance of her family, she was ready now to step back into the past, to relinquish the reins, perhaps, to someone else.
"That last year before Nigel was killed," she said. "Do you remember, Rick, we sat in the den and sang songs? Alix was twenty—Anna's age. What was that song Nigel used to sing? Anna knows it."
" 'Blow the wind southerly'" Anna said, and Alix began to sing in a muted, husky contralto.
The candles were guttering and began to go out one by one. They seemed, all of them, to be caught in a suspension of time while Alix sang, and Anna felt the tears sting her eyelids.
" 'But my eye could not see it, wherever might it be, The barque that is bearing my lover to me. . . ."'
"Yes . . ." Mrs. Peveril said. "How it sends one back. . . ."
"To all of us it's simply a reminder of Nigel, but to Anna it has another significance," said Rick, and at once the moment of softness or remembering was dispelled.
"Really?" drawled Alix. "Does it evoke tender memories for you, darling—before you met Rick, of course?"
Anna was glad of the growing darkness. She could not tell
them that although the song had been associated with that first foolish love, it had now become bound up with Rick and the sea and the bitter knowledge that never could he care for her as he had once cared for Alix.
"I heard it sung when I was a child," she answered evasively, and was aware of Rick watchng her out of the shadows.
"There was another song Nigel used to sing," he said, advancing upon Anna with deliberation. " 'In delay there lies no plenty, then come kiss me, sweet and twenty. . . .' " He took her hands in his and kissed her full and squarely in front of them all.
" 'Youth's a stuff will not endure . . ."' Alix capped him quickly. "Don't forget that, Rick."
"Well, time for sentiment is past," he said a little derisively. "I think this might be the moment to announce our plans, Gran. We propose getting married next month. Does that suit everybody?"
Anna had sprung to her feet, but before she could speak she felt Rick's arm about her shoulders, the pressure of his fingers biting into her flesh.
"It's time we settled down, don't you think?" he said.
Anna was aware of Alix taut and silent against the wall, of old Mrs. Peveril stiffening suddenly in her chair. Ruth made a clumsy movement and kissed Anna awkwardly, while Birdie twittered his approval in the background, and the moment for speech had gone. Anna could not, here, in front of them all, give the lie to Rick, confess that her engagement had been a fraud, a manoeuvre to outwit Mrs. Peveril's schemes, a piece of folly which had turned sour on her and left her at the mercy of these Peverils.
"Come here, Anna," Mrs. Peveril said, and Rick gave the girl a little push.
She knelt on the floor by the old lady's chair, unable to meet those fierce old eyes, still so bright and disconcertingly youthful.
"Are you sure what you're doing? " Mrs. Peveril asked, and there was an unexpected gentleness in the question which brought the tears to Anna's eyes again.
"Yes," she whispered, because, under all their watching eyes, she could say nothing else.
"You fool, Rick!" cried Alix suddenly. "Do you suppose we didn't know that this engagement was all a trick? Do you need to carry your punishment to these lengths?"
"Alix, be silent!" rapped out old Mrs. Peveril. "Whatever our private feelings in the matter, now is not the time to air them. You had better go back to the cottage. Birdie will see you home."
"I'll see myself home as I always have when Rick has been too churlish to do the polite!" Alix said hysterically. "I'm surprised at you, Gran—surprised and disappointed that you'd allow yourself to be tramped on by Rick and that demure milk-and-water miss who, after all, seems to know which side her bread is buttered."
"Go home," said Mrs. Peveril, sounding suddenly very tired, and Alix darted out of the open french window with a furious rustle of her taffeta skirts. Ruth slipped out after her.
"I have created a new beast in the topiary," Birdie announced suddenly and loudly. "Really rather a skilful piece of work, you know. I lopped the tail of that peacock that was never quite successful and turned it into-"
"Be quiet, Birdie!" said Mrs. Peveril with mild exasperation. "I'm tired. I think I'll go up to bed."
She reached uncertainly for her stick and Birdie, anxious to distract attention from that painful little scene, hurried to escort her from the room and up the stairs.
The room seemed very quiet after they had gone. Only two candles were left burning now, looking lonely and forlorn in the darkness. Rick had not moved and Anna whirled round to face him in the shadows.
"How could you!" she cried. "How could you hurt them all like that and place me in such an impossible position?"
His voice came gently out of the darkness, not mocking as
she had expected, but with a tender amusement that weakened all her defences.
"No one was hurt," he said, "not even Alix. Why should they be? You've been engaged to me for two months now —time enough for you all to get used to one another, wouldn't you say?"
"But at the beginning it wasn't true. They knew as well as I did that you were playing a game of your own. What would you have done if I'd told the truth just now?"
"I'd have denied it, of course. Even Gran could be brought to understand an attack of maidenly reluctance at the eleventh hour."
"Oh, you're impossible!"
He took a quick, sudden stride towards her.
"No, Anna, only determined to get what I want," he said.
"But it's Alix you've always wanted."
"Do you think so? Well, we're all entitied to change our minds. I thought, of late, you'd been changing yours."
His hands were on her shoulders, drawing her close, and his dark face was suddenly grave.
"I gave you fair warning yesterday," he said. "I told you to think things over—remember?"
"But I haven't given you a reply," she said.
"No, so I decided to make up your mind for you. There'll be no going back, now, Anna. There never is any going back, you know. That's what Alix refuses to understand."
"You Peverils!" she exclaimed on a note of distraction. "You take what you want, always!"
"Perhaps. Sometimes it's the best way. You don't dislike me, do you, Anna?"
One of the candles snuffed out and the remaining flicker of light seemed to Anna the last brave symbol of her own weakening resistance.
"No," she said. "Oh, no . . . dear Rick. But what can you want of me? What can I give you?"
"A great deal, I think," he said with gendeness, and kissed her unsteady mouth.
For a moment she rested against him there in the darkness. She did not understand him, but she knew now she would take what he offered and be glad.
"How sweet your hair smells—like new-mown hay—or is it gorse in the sun?" he murmured, his lips touching her forehead, and she was aware of tenderness in him, and a strange mute appeal for her tolerance.
"Oh, Rick," she said, "I couldn't foresee any of this. If I had-"
"If you had you would have turned me down then and there at the nursing-home and gone back to the hostel. Time you were in bed. Come on."
He snuffed out the remaining candle between his finger and thumb and turned to shut and bolt the french windows.
"Goodnight," he said carelessly, as if tonight were like any other, and she slipped away to the lighted hall and up the stairs to bed.
CHAPTER VIII
They were all late down to breakfast the next morning with the exception of Rick, who had left, as usual, for the quarry. Anna was last, and she and Ruth eyed each other rather shyly across the deserted breakfast table.
"Well," Ruth remarked, "Rick and Alix between them certainly made a Roman holiday of the finish of Grand's birthday. Why did you let him blurt out that announcement in front of Alix?"
"Did it matter?" asked Anna serenely. "She would have to know sometime."
"Still, it was tough in front of us all—almost as if he did it deliberately to humiliate her."
Anna regarded her thoughtfully. Although, for her, the night had brought little sleep, she had come to terms with herself. Now she must come to terms with the Peverils and
establish the rights which had, until now, been denied her.
"Ruth," she said gently, "I know you all wanted Rick to marry Alix, but he has chosen me and I think you should try to make the best of it. That scene with Alix last night wasn't pretty."
Ruth did not flare up in defence of Alix as she would have done not so long ago, but her eyes were troubled.
"You don't know Alix," she said slowly. "She can make mischief, and Rick got her on the raw."
"I don't imagine," Anna replied with a calmness she was far from feeling, "she'll be here much longer. She only has the cottage till the end of the summer, and it's now August."
"Rick wouldn't turn her out."
"Wouldn't he? I think she'll go without that. Ruth, I'm sorry if you're disappointed. I know you'd hoped till the last minute it would be Alix. Don't—don't hold it against me.
Ruth piled an inordinate amount of marmalade on to a small piece of toast and crammed it into her mouth.
"I don't," she mumbled with her mouth full. "You're more restful to have about the house than Alix, anyway. You've been very nice to me, Anna."
"Why not? I like you," said Anna simply, and added tentatively: "You went after Alix last night. Was she—was she very upset?"
"I don't know," said Ruth. "She slammed the door in my face and said she was sick of the lot of us."
Anna sighed. Ruth had worshipped for so long. It was cruel, she thought, to have one's good intentions continually thrown back in one's face.
"And David?" she asked, trying to coax the conversation into pleasanter channels. "Did he think you looked nice?"
Ruth pushed her chair back from the table and lit a cigarette.
"Yes," she said, and went a little pink. "He—he—oh, Anna, I have to tell you. He asked me to marry him."
Anna's face lit up with pleasure and she jumped up and ran round the table to embrace Ruth.
"Well!" said Alix's husky voice from the terrace steps. "What a touching spectacle! Are you transferring your allegiance so soon, Ruth?"
Anna went quietly back to her own chair, but Ruth scrambled to her feet with awkward embarrassment.
"Alix, you know—" she began with painful distress, "—you have come first always—always, but----"
"But the woman in possession is obviously worthy of better consideration. My dear, I don't blame you. Anna will probably be easier to live with than me—and you will be living here, won't you—the unmarried sister, doing the dull chores, looking after the children, when they come?"
"Alix, that's unforgivable!" Anna cried. "Whatever the future may hold, Ruth would never become just a drudge at Trevallion. Is there anyone you want to see?"
Alix stood on the terrace steps, surveying them both with an insolent gaze. She wore the sunsuit which revealed so much of her provocative flesh and every curve of her body showed the confidence she had in her own power.
"I've come to see Gran. Any objection?" she said. "No, of course not, only—Mrs. Peveril was very tired last night. I think, perhaps, she shouldn't be disturbed so early in the morning."
Alix's lovely mouth curved in a scornful smile. "Early!" she said. "Ten o'clock may be early by city standards, but in these parts half the work is done by now, as you'll find out. Have I your permission to go into the house?"
It seemed to Anna a foolish kind of baiting. Alix knew very well that she could walk in and out of Trevallion when she chose.
"Naturally," she replied, trying to speak civilly. "You scarcely need my permission to come into what was once your own home."
"No, I don't, do I?" said Alix, beginning to move towards the house. "You're not mistress here, yet, Anna. Have a
care how you go—the Peverils dislike interference, and that goes for Rick, too."
She went into the house with that assured, indolent stride which proclaimed her right to be there, and Anna crumbled a piece of bread into a small pellet and flicked it into the shrubs.
"Well," she said, "it will be nice when she decides to go. Is David coming out today, Ruth?"
Ruth stood awkwardly by the breakfast table, idly running her finger round the remains of marmalade on her plate.
"Yes," she said. "Ranger's all right, really, but-"
"But you'd like to see him again?"
"Yes . . ." said Ruth uncertainly. "Yes, I would."
She gave Anna a long, undecided look, and went abruptly into the house and the den to tend to her dog.
"You're wanted," Alix said, suddenly reappearing.
"Who wants me?" she asked, rising to her feet, the half-empty breakfast cup still in her hands.
"Gran."
"Oh!" Anna hesitated, watching Alix with wary eyes. What had taken place upstairs, she wondered? What had Alix said to Mrs. Peveril, and, more important, what had Mrs. Peveril said to Alix?
"She wants to give you a birthday present," Alix said, and her eyes suddenly narrowed. "Don't imagine the field is now yours, will you, darling? Rick's little act last night was very nicely timed, but he doesn't care anything for you—you know that."
Anna moistened her dry lips.
"Don't you think you're being rather ridiculous, Alix?" she said.
"Ridiculous!" Alix leaned her lovely body against one of the stone pillars and looked Anna up and down. "My dear young Anna, I think you are the ridiculous one. Have you ever looked at yourself in the glass? Have you ever compared yourself with me—or the type of woman Rick might be expected to fall in love with?"
Anna set the cup carefully down on the table. Her hands
trembled slightly and the heavy emerald slipped to one side of her engagement finger.
"I don't think," she said, trying to speak rationally, "you and I have much to say to one another, Alix. Rick is marrying me and that should, I think, answer your question."
"But does it answer yours?" asked Alix provocatively. "What a man decides to do out of pique is one of the oldest gags in the world. Think it over, Anna. The Peverils are hard taskmasters, you know. It would be a pity to get hurt unnecessarily."
She swung herself down the steps with easy grace, and walked across the lawn, unhurried, assured. Anna watched her leap the ha-ha in one long bound and disappear across the wasteland to the cottage.
Anna knocked at Mrs. Peveril's door, not looking forward to the interview, but the old lady was sitting up in bed, her trinket box on her knees, and she welcomed Anna with more pleasantness than usual.