Devil's Mount Part 15

"We needn't go out on the bike, you know. Not if you don't want to.

My dad has a car. I could borrow that."

"It's not that, Gavin."

"What is it, then? You didn't seem opposed to the idea last week."

Julie sighed. "It's difficult ..."

"Oh, I see." Gavin's face a.s.sumed a knowing look. "It's difficult, is it?

I get you now."

"What do you get?"

Gavin looked cynical. "His secretary, eh? Well, it's not original."

Julie gasped. "You couldn't be more wrong!"

"Making him jealous, were you? Talking to me? I'm sorry, I didn't see the Off Limits sign."

Julie was horrified. If Gavin started those kind of rumours in Abernarth, Rhys would be furious.

"You don't understand!" she exclaimed, and then was startled by the sound of running feet, coming from the direction of the house. They both looked, in that direction, and Julie's lips parted in astonishment when William's lanky figure appeared out of the mist. He was wearing only his jeans and sweater, and the dampness had already covered his hair and clothes with moisture.

"William!" The word was torn from her, and the boy halted uncertainly at the sight of her and the leather-clad young man beside her, his expression changing from evident distress to confused incomprehension.

"Julie!" he explained, coming on disbelievingly towards them. "Oh, Julie, where have you been?"

Julie looked helplessly at Gavin and then back at William, gesturing towards the carrier. "I-I went to the village," she explained; then more forcefully: "But what are you doing? You'll catch your death of cold, coming out in this weather without a coat!"

Gavin pulled on his helmet again. "I'd better be going," he said, showing unexpected discretion, and Julie was too concerned about William at that moment to make any objection.

"Goodbye," she said absently, as William reached them, and with a distracted little exclamation, turned him back towards the house.

"Well?" she demanded. "What are you doing? Where were you going?"

William shook his head wearily. "I was-looking for you."

"For me?" Julie was startled. "But-"

"I saw you go out. I thought you were going for a walk on the beach, so I decided to follow you. But when I got down there, there was no sign of you. I came back to the house." He shrugged his thin shoulders. "I thought somehow I'd missed you. But Dulcie said you hadn't come back, and- and I got-worried."

"Oh, William!" Julie felt like hugging him, but she dared not do it.

Then she sighed. "But that still doesn't explain what you were doing just flow."

William s.h.i.+vered, and she deliberately quickened their pace, as he said: "I had to get help. I thought you might have been swept off the rocks. There's n.o.body but Nerys at the house, and I couldn't wait for my father to get back."

Julie took his hand in hers. "Come on," she said. "Let's run, shall we?

You're frozen, and it's all my fault."

"No, it's not," he panted beside her. "I-I shouldn't have let you go out alone on a day like this. I-I've been wanting to tell you-I'm sorry, Julie."

Julie did not trust herself to answer him, and she was unutterably relieved when the lights of the house began to glimmer through the mist. Heaven knew what this outing might have done to William's const.i.tution. If he fell ill again, she would never forgive herself.

Dulcie was waiting in the hall when they got back, and her eyes widened curiously when Julie insisted that William went straight upstairs and took a bath. , "You forgot your coat, Willie," she remarked, in her childish treble. "Uncle Rhys will be ever so cross."

"But you're not going to tell him, are you, Dulcie?" asked Julie quietly, shedding her own coat. "You don't do that sort of thing any more, do you?"

Dulcie pursed her lips. "Mummy says that sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind," she recited smugly, and Julie quelled the urge to tell her to mind her own business.

Instead, she retorted: "My mummy always said that what the eye didn't see, the heart didn't grieve over. Do you want to get William into trouble?"

Dulcie, scuffed her toe. "You haven't taken me to c'lect any more sh.e.l.ls," she reminded her.

"Nor shall I, if I hear any more of this. Don't try blackmailing me, Dulcie, because it won't work."

"I don't know what you mean." The little girl looked sulky.

"Yes, you do. Now, go along upstairs, William. Get your bath, and I'll order tea in the living room in fifteen minutes, hmm?"

William grinned, and it was like the breaking of a dam, allowing all the hurt and tension of the last few days to escape. "All right," he agreed eagerly, and took the stairs two at a time.

CHAPTER TEN.

DURING the night, Julie heard William coughing. It was a quiet night compared to the previous week's storms, and the harsh sound echoed hollowly along the corridor between their two rooms. She came awake at once, remembering his unprotected excursion into the mist, knowing instantly that her fears on his behalf had not been unfounded. Because Dulcie had not mentioned the incident Julie had had no occasion to explain what had happened at dinner the evening before, even though she knew that sooner or later she would have to tell Rhys about Mavis Jones.

Pulling on her dressing gown, she slid out of bed and padded to the door. William was coughing again, hoa.r.s.ely now as he strove for breath, and she felt a terrible sense of responsibility. It seemed that no matter how she tried to avoid it, she was involved with this family, for good or ill.

There was a light under William's door, and she halted uncertainly, suddenly conscious of the scarcity of her attire, and of what interpretation Rhys might put upon her ministrations. But when William began to cough again, she put such trivial considerations aside and opened the door.

William was not alone, however. His father was standing beside his bed, holding a gla.s.s in which some hot liquid was steaming, waiting until William recovered again. He was wearing corded jeans that moulded his lean thighs, and a navy sweater-but his feet were bare.

"Oh!" Julie's involuntary exclamation was automatic. "I-I heard William coughing. Is-is he all right?"

William nodded from the bed, forcing a faint smile. "I'm fine."

"He's not fine," said Rhys heavily, handing his son the gla.s.s again.

"He's got a chill. I just wish to G.o.d I knew how. This house isn't draughtproof, I know, but I have tried to ensure that he's kept warm."

Julie hovered in the doorway, aware of William's warning eyes upon her. But it was no good. She couldn't allow Rhys to believe William had developed a cold from nowhere.

"It was my fault," she began, and ignored the boy when he tried to intervene. "I disappeared yesterday afternoon. William came looking for me."

"I see." Rhys looked down at his son again., "Is this true?" William reluctantly nodded. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because he thought you'd be angry," exclaimed Julie, coming into the room and half closing the door behind her, unwilling to alert anyone else to their exchange. "I'm sorry, I didn't think."

Rhys shook his head, and looked at her again, grey eyes encountering hers before moving with disturbing intentness down the length of her slender figure. Then he said quietly: "Just out of interest, where did you-disappear to?"

Julie sighed. "As a matter of fact, I walked to the village."

"To the village? But it was a foul afternoon!"

"I didn't mind," Julie defended herself indignantly. "I'm ent.i.tled to go out, aren't I?"

Rhys' eyes narrowed. "The famous free time," he mocked coldly.

Then: "If you had wanted to go to the village, you should have told me. I'd have arranged for Haggar to drive you down."

"It wasn't necessary. I-well, I enjoyed the walk."

"Did you?"

William started to cough again, and Rhys was forced to leave his catechism of her to attend to his son. This time the bout was more severe, and with a moan of protest, William vomited the whole of his dinner, half on the bed, and half on the floor.

Rhys uttered an exclamation, and Julie waited only a moment before hurrying forward and moving him aside. "Do you know where Mrs.

Evans keeps clean sheets?" she asked, rea.s.suring William with a smile, and Rhys nodded.

"I think so."

"Well, go and get them then, while I strip off the bed."

By the time Rhys returned, his arms full of sheets and blankets, Julie had found clean pyjamas for William, and he was changing them by the fire while she dragged all the covers from his bed. The dirty sheets she had used to mop up the worst of the mess on the floor, realising they would have to be boiled before they could be used again.

It didn't take her long to remake the bed, and while she did so, Rhys disappeared again to reappear with a bucket and plenty of hot soapy water, cleanly smelling of disinfectant. He soon disposed of what was left on the floor, and Julie got a face-cloth from the bathroom, and sponged William's face and hands before putting him back into bed.

"Thank you," said Rhys, rather stiffly, when William was lying back weakly against the pillows, but Julie dismissed his grat.i.tude.

Turning away, and speaking in an undertone, she said: "William went out without his coat. I have to tell you. But give me notice, if you like, only don't take it out on him!"

Rhys looked down at her and her heart pounded wildly at the momentary emotion that darkened his eyes. "You know I won't do that," he said huskily, and she looked confused. "Give you notice," he explained briefly. "Now-go to bed!"

Julie tossed and turned till morning. She was worried about William, concerned about her part in the proceedings, afraid that there might be something more seriously wrong with him than just a chill. But as well as these anxieties, there were others-others which put in jeopardy the whole fabric of her life here at Devil's Mount. Ajpid most disturbing of these was her relations.h.i.+p with its owner.

Ever since she came here, she had been aware of him, in a way totally different from any other attraction she had experienced. Her experience with men wasn't immense, it was true, but she was sufficiently familiar with the workings of her own body to know that no other man had penetrated so far into the depths of her emotions.

And such a man, she thought miserably, a ruthless amoral individual, who could come from the bed of one woman and make love to another without shame or self-recrimination.

That was really the crux of the matter, she realised, as she lay there waiting for the release of morning, for no matter how he might indulge himself with her, amuse himself by arousing her immature emotions, gain a cynical satisfaction from his ability to bring the warm colour to her cheeks, it was to Nerys he owed his allegiance, and that had never been in any doubt. He had made the position painfully clear on more than one occasion, and if his honesty was hard to bear, it was because she was not like him, or his sister-in-law, unable to partic.i.p.ate in such insincere sophistry without getting hurt.

With each day that pa.s.sed, she was getting further out of her depth, and that moment in William's bedroom had clarified something she had only half suspected. She was in love with Rhys Edwards, in love with a man more than twice her age, who ate little girls like her for breakfast....

She was up and dressed by half past seven, and encountered Haggar in the hall when she went downstairs. The elderly manservant seemed surprised to see her, and she said quickly: "I was concerned about William. He was ill during the night."

"I know." Haggar was carrying a bucket of coals and indicated the dining-room behind him. "If you'll come in here, miss."

The dining-room fire was already lit, and Haggar quickly transferred some of the coal in his bucket on to the blazing wood. Julie waited until he had finished rattling the shovel in the bucket, and then exclaimed: "How is he this morning? Do you know? I didn't like to disturb him."

Haggar straightened, flexing his back muscles wearily. "I understand Mr. Edwards has sent for the doctor, miss. But the boy has slept a couple of hours now, and that should do him more good than anything."

"Thank goodness!" Julie was glad she had not given in to the temptation to look into William's room. "Thank you, Haggar.

Er-where is-Mr. Edwards?"

"I really don't know, miss. In his study, maybe. Sleeping, perhaps.

He's been up nearly all night."

Julie nodded, and when Haggar excused himself to go about his tasks, she remained in the dining-room, standing by the fire, staring down into the billowing clouds of blue-black smoke that curled up the chimney.

William's condition got no worse, and within a couple of days he was able to get up and about again. But his illness had taught Julie a lesson she would not forget. She never went anywhere without first advising somebody where she was going.

The problem of Mavis Jones lay heavily on her mind during those days, too. Since the night in William's bedroom, Rhys had become almost unapproachable, unbending only when he was dictating to her, and even then, keeping his comments rigidly to the job in hand.

Consequently, Julie did not find an opening to mention what she had done, and she lived in fear of either Mrs. Jones or her daughter coming to the house.

Williagi was still not well enough to join her on her afternoon walks, but he was always there afterwards, waiting to have tea with her, and he manfully stifled any jealousy he might have felt when Dulcie occasionally joined them. The little girl was turning more and more to them for companions.h.i.+p, and there were times when Julie found it hard to relate this eager happy child to the sullen, malicious individual she had been on her arrival. She was still inclined to display that selfish, demanding side of her nature to her mother, but she knew better now than to try it on with Julie and William.

William himself seemed to have recovered from his emotional outburst, and their relations.h.i.+p developed almost because of what had happened. Julie felt a strong attachment to him, a deep affection, and it was this more than anything else which made her ignore the emptiness Rhys had put into her life. William needed her-and he was his father's son....

One afternoon it was too damp and foggy to go out, and after she had finished working for the day, Julie went straight into the living-room where William was waiting for her. Although it was barely the middle of the afternoon, it was already gloomy indoors, and William had turned on the standard lamp to cast a triangle of warm light over the hearth.

"You're early," he said, and she nodded.

"I didn't go out. It's too damp. When this fog clears away, perhaps we'll be able to go out together."

William nodded, patting the seat beside him, and she joined him on the velvet cus.h.i.+ons of the chesterfield. It was too early yet for tea, but it was pleasant just to contemplate the fire, knowing that she was finished for the day, with the prospect of Mrs. Evans' potato cakes and a cup of scalding tea warming the immediate future.

There were pictures in the flames, elves and goblins and all manner of weird beasts conjured up by smouldering lumps of coal. There was a dragon breathing fire, and the many-headed gorgon las.h.i.+ng its tail-and yes, there was a Viking s.h.i.+p, long and steeply prowed, but with no l.u.s.ty commander to steer it through the fiery waters. Julie sighed. She didn't think about her Viking these days. His image had been overlaid by another man's harsh visage, dark-skinned and dark-browed, with eyes the colour of the sea on a rainy day, and thick dark hair that showed blue-black, not golden, in the rays of the sun...

When the living-room door crashed back upon its hinges, both William and Julie almost jumped out of their skins, William jerking his head up in astonishment from the dictionary of geological science he had been studying.

Rhys stood in the doorway, a physical manifestation of Julie's foolish imaginings, his face dark and angry as he surveyed the scene they presented. Then he moved further into the room, resting his hands on the back of the chesterfield, knuckles showing white through the skin, and she felt the first twinges of real apprehension. He was wearing black, a colour which he seemed to favour, but its sombreness only served to intimidate.

William spoke first. "Is something wrong, Da?" he asked, an unnecessary question when something so obviously was, and Rhys did not even favour it with a reply.