Читать книгу Witchstone - Anne Mather, Anne Mather - Страница 7

ASHLEY was almost asleep when Karen came noisily into the bedroom and switched on her bedside lamp.

‘Ashley?’ she hissed in a stage whisper. ‘Are you awake?’

Ashley sighed. She had thought that for once Karen would see that her eyes were closed and not disturb her, but she should have known better. Rolling on to her back, shading her eyes with her arm, she said: ‘Do you realise it’s almost half past eleven, Karen? I’m tired. What do you want?’

Karen gave an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry, love. I really thought you were awake.’

‘I was,’ admitted Ashley. ‘What is it?’

‘I just wanted to talk to you,’ exclaimed Karen, beginning to get undressed. ‘Guess what? Frank’s got a new car!’

Ashley raised her eyes towards the bedroom ceiling. ‘Super! Is that all?’

‘Don’t you want to know what it is?’ Karen sounded disappointed.

Ashley gave a resigned gesture. ‘All right. What is it?’

‘It’s a Triumph Spitfire. A gorgeous little sports car, and can it move! We went for a run in it this evening, and it was thrilling—really thrilling!’

Ashley blinked. ‘Great. Have you just got back?’

‘Well, I’ve just got in,’ replied Karen insinuatively. ‘We got back about half an hour ago.’

‘Fine.’ Ashley rolled on to her side again. ‘Can I go to sleep now?’

‘I suppose so.’ Karen plumped down on to the side of her bed to take her tights off. ‘What did you do this evening?’

‘Nothing much.’ Ashley’s voice was muffled.

‘Exciting!’ Karen was sarcastic. ‘Honestly, Ash, don’t you ever get sick of staying in all the time? I mean, I’m sure Frank could fix you up with a blind date——’

‘No, thanks!’ Ashley turned so quickly that she pulled the blankets out of the side of the bed, and mumbled irritably as she pushed them in again. ‘I don’t need Frank Coulter to get dates for me. I’m perfectly capable of choosing my own boy-friends.’

Karen pulled on her pyjamas. ‘So why don’t you have any?’

‘I do have friends,’ protested Ashley.

‘But you don’t go out with them—at least, not alone anyway.’

Ashley sighed again. ‘Look, you live your life and I’ll live mine.’

‘I just want you to have a little fun, that’s all.’ Karen climbed into bed. Propping herself on one elbow, she studied her cousin critically. ‘You should, you know. You’re very attractive.’

‘Thank you.’ Ashley wished she would hurry up and turn out the light.

‘Don’t you want to get married?’

‘Oh, Karen, honestly!’ Ashley had to smile. ‘I don’t want to get married for years yet! I’m not eighteen even. I intend to wait until I’m—oh, I don’t know—perhaps thirty, before I tie myself down with a home and children——’

‘You’re forgetting the most important part.’

‘What’s that?’ Ashley frowned.

‘A husband, of course. Or were you planning to have children and bring them up yourself?’

‘Don’t talk rubbish!’ Ashley wrinkled her nose. ‘You know what I mean. Besides, I may never get married.’

‘No. That’s true.’ Karen flopped back and folded her arms behind her head. ‘But I want to. I’ve never been particularly interested in a career.’

Ashley nodded. ‘And do you think this—association with Frank is serious?’

Karen shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Sometimes I think so, and then he does something or says something and—well, I wonder.’ She drew the covers up to her chin, tipping her head on one side to look at her cousin. ‘Mum said that Mark brought Jake Seton home with him this evening.’

Ashley was glad of the rose-shaded lamp to hide her colouring. ‘Yes, that’s right, he did.’

Karen rolled on to her side, facing her. ‘What did you think of him?’

‘Who? Jake Seton?’

‘Who else?’ Karen’s tone was dry.

‘I—er—he seemed very nice——’

‘Nice!’ Karen gasped. ‘Love, a man like Jake Seton could never be described as—nice!’

‘Why? Isn’t he?’

Karen gave an exasperated snort. ‘Ashley! If you mean is he charming—intelligent, friendly, even, then—yes. I suppose in those terms, he is—nice. But that wasn’t what I meant. Didn’t you think he was attractive? Oh, I know he’s a lot older than you, but even so …’

Ashley hunched her shoulders under the bedcovers. ‘Yes, I suppose he is,’ she admitted reluctantly. A slight smile touched her lips. ‘Why don’t you marry him if you find him so devastating?’

Karen grimaced. ‘Chance would be a fine thing! Heavens, you don’t suppose I’d be bothering with someone like Frank if I seriously thought I stood any chance with Jake Seton, do you?’

‘You can’t love Frank, then,’ declared Ashley forcefully. ‘Or you wouldn’t be interested in anyone else.’

‘Yes, but the Setons are something else,’ exclaimed Karen defensively. ‘I mean, they really are different. It’s only that Jake and Mark have known one another since they were at school together, and Jake is always so friendly to Mum and Dad that makes him seem approachable somehow. The rest of the family aren’t like him. Oh, they’re friendly enough, I suppose, but in a different way—a less personal way, if you know what I mean. They’re sort of—oh, you know—aloof—lords of the manor—that sort of thing. They know everyone, of course. They speak to everyone. But you’re always conscious of the gulf between them and us—it’s a social barrier somehow.’

Ashley was intrigued now in spite of her tiredness. ‘And you say—Jake Seton went to the same school as Mark?’

‘Only for a short time,’ answered Karen, rubbing her nose thoughtfully. ‘Jake’s a couple of years older than Mark, but he did attend the County Infants for three years before going on to prep school. I don’t know how they became friends, but they did—and it’s stuck—which says a lot for Jake, actually. I don’t think his family approve. So far as they’re concerned, this is one of the local pubs, and if Jake comes here they put it down to the alcohol on the premises, not the company.’

‘And—and Jake is a son of Mark’s employer, is that right?’

‘Not a son, love, the son! He has two sisters, but no brothers. Sir James Seton is his father. I suppose Jake will inherit the title one day. His name is James, really, but he’s always been called Jake to avoid confusion.’

‘I see.’ Ashley digested this. ‘I’m surprised he’s not married.’

‘He will be soon.’ Karen’s mouth turned down at the corners. ‘The social occasion of the year is planned for the last week in June.’

Ashley frowned. ‘What do you mean? He’s getting married?’

‘Naturally.’ Karen expelled her breath noisily.

Ashley suddenly found the conversation rather boring. ‘Oh, well,’ she said shortly, ‘you’ll just have to make do with Frank, won’t you?’

Karen watched her cousin roll herself in the covers and prepare herself for sleep. ‘I suppose so,’ she agreed slowly. ‘Don’t you want to know who he’s going to marry?’

‘Not particularly.’ Ashley was abrupt. ‘Oh, Karen, for goodness’ sake, put out the light. I’m tired. I want to go to sleep.’

During the next couple of weeks, Ashley thought very little about Jake Seton. The weather was unusually cold for early March with heavy falls of snow blocking the roads, disrupting bus and train services. The moorland farmers who gathered in the Golden Lion on market days talked incessantly of the shortages of animal foodstuffs and the difficulties of lambing in these conditions. Ashley herself seemed to spend her time hurrying from home to school and then home again, and felt no desire to go out in the evenings as Karen did.

One afternoon, when a watery sun was fighting a losing battle with the freezing temperatures, she was walking home from school with a girl-friend when a sleek, dark green sports car slid to a halt beside them. They were scarcely a hundred yards from the school and at first Ashley thought it was someone who wanted directions. But then the nearside window was rolled down and she found herself looking into Jake Seton’s face.

‘Hello, Ashley,’ he said, almost as if he had expected to see her. ‘Can I give you a lift?’

Susan Knight, the girl who had been walking with her, drew back awkwardly, obviously recognising Jake, and Ashley felt embarrassed.

‘I—we don’t have far to go,’ she replied briefly. ‘Thank you all the same.’

Jake’s lips thinned. ‘I’m going that way anyway,’ he said, thrusting open the door. ‘Get in!’

There was such authority in his voice that Ashley found herself responding to it almost automatically, merely giving Susan an apologetic smile before stepping forward and climbing into the luxurious vehicle beside him. He leant across her to close the door with controlled firmness and for an instant she could smell the heat of his body and a faint trace of Havana tobacco, and felt the hardness of his arm against the softness of her breasts. Then the force of unrestrained power beneath the bonnet of the car was pressing her back in her seat as the car swept forward.

She had been in quite a number of cars during her comparatively short life, but never one like this. Everything about it was smooth and expensive, and even without the scrawled identification along its side she would have guessed it belonged to some exclusive stable of custom-built sports cars.

Within seconds they had reached the end of Castle Lane and turned into the High Street, and Ashley’s fingers tightened on her briefcase as he drew up outside the Golden Lion.

‘Thank you,’ she managed, and looked round for the door handle.

Without a word, Jake leant across her again and thrust open the door, and with a nervous smile she swung her legs out and stood up. She turned to close the door and found him sliding across her seat to climb out at her side, tall and disturbing in a black leather battle jacket over black suede trousers.

‘Well?’ he challenged, looking down at her, and she detected impatience in the word. ‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’

‘No.’ She looked down at the toes of her shiny black boots.

‘But you didn’t want to ride with me, did you?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’ He was clearly perplexed.

‘I—Susan had to go home alone.’

‘That was Tom Knight’s girl, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then, as I recall it, they live along Westbrook Terrace. She was about to turn along Westbrook Gardens, which is not your way at all.’

Ashley looked up at him. ‘How do you know?’

‘Her father used to work for us.’

‘Oh, I see.’ Ashley resumed her contemplation of her toes.

‘So would you like to tell me the real reason why you didn’t want me to give you a lift?’

Ashley looked round. The Golden Lion was in a prominent position in the High Street and standing here beside the unmistakable lines of the sports car they were attracting quite a lot of attention from late afternoon shoppers.

‘Oh, please,’ she began. ‘I—I expect I was surprised to see you there, that’s all. Look, I’m freezing standing here. Are—are you coming in?’

‘Are you inviting me?’ His eyes probed hers with disturbing intensity.

‘Me?’ exclaimed Ashley ungrammatically. She moved her shoulders helplessly. ‘Isn’t it Mark you’ve come to see?’

‘So far as I am aware, Mark is at work,’ replied Jake easily, his thumbs tucked into the low belt of his pants.

Ashley was at a loss to know what to do. She wasn’t used to dealing with men, and particularly not with a man like Jake Seton. She shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, not knowing what to say. Then, as though taking pity on her, or perhaps it was simply that he was tired of waiting for her to make a move, Jake suddenly shrugged his broad shoulders and with a slight bow of his head walked round his car and swinging open the door climbed behind the wheel. There was a slight squeal of protest from the tyres as he drove away, but Ashley scarcely registered it. Her heart was pounding so loudly she couldn’t hear anything else.

Her aunt was in the kitchen as usual when she entered the hotel, and gave her niece a surprised look. ‘You’re home early,’ she exclaimed. ‘Is it snowing again?’

Ashley shook her head, turning away to get herself a drink of water from the tap. ‘No. No—I got a lift actually.’

There was silence for a moment as she swallowed half the glass of water; but when she turned back to her aunt she saw she was waiting for further explanations.

‘It was Mr. Seton. He gave me a lift.’

Mona Sutton raised her eyebrows. ‘Jake?’

‘That’s right.’ Ashley unbuttoned her duffel coat. ‘I’ll go and get changed——’

‘Wait a minute!’ Mona bent to take a tray of sausage rolls out of the oven. Putting them down on top of the cooker, she added: ‘What did he say?’

Ashley shrugged. ‘Nothing much.’

Mona sighed. ‘He must have said something. How did he come to give you a lift?’

‘I don’t know.’ Ashley fidgeted with the toggle fastenings of her coat. ‘Susan and I were just walking along when—when he stopped. And offered.’

Mona frowned. ‘And where is he now?’

‘I expect he’s gone home.’ Ashley turned towards the door.

Mona clicked her tongue. ‘I wonder why he didn’t come in. It’s not like Jake to be in the vicinity and not call. Oh, well …’ She began lifting the sausage rolls on to a wire tray to cool. ‘Perhaps he was in a hurry.’

‘Perhaps he was,’ agreed Ashley quickly, and went out of the door before her aunt could say anything else.

But in her room the incident could not be dismissed so lightly. She knew that Jake’s reasons for not coming into the hotel had had to do with her attitude, and she couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. After all, she had absolutely no reason to behave towards him as she had, and she knew that the rest of the family would not be at all pleased if they discovered the way she had reacted to his kindness.

As she changed out of her school clothes into her usual attire of jeans and a sweater she tried to find excuses for herself. He made her feel uneasy, unsure of herself, and the knowledge that everyone else regarded him with what she felt was an unwarranted show of affection irritated her. He was only a man when all was said and done, and just because his name was Seton it did not make him some kind of god in her eyes. Besides, she didn’t want to have to feel grateful to him for anything.

During their meal that evening Mark volunteered the information that Jake had been away for the day. ‘There’s some talk about selling that land where the old sawmill used to be,’ he said. ‘I think Jake went to Leeds to find out about conditions of tenure, development—that sort of thing.’

Mona looked up with interest. ‘Oh, then that’s where he’d been when he picked Ashley up,’ she decided.

‘Picked Ashley up?’ Mark was puzzled. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘He gave your cousin a lift home from school this afternoon,’ explained his father.

Mark looked at Ashley in surprise. ‘Did he? That was kind of him.’

‘Yes, wasn’t it?’ Mona smiled comfortably. ‘But he didn’t come in. I expect he wanted to report back to Sir James.’

‘Yes,’ Mark nodded. ‘Well, Ashley? What did you think of the Ferrari?’

Ashley shrugged, determinedly keeping her eyes on her plate. ‘Is that what it was? I didn’t notice,’ she lied.

Mark chuckled, shaking his head. ‘It’s just as well it was you and not Karen he gave a lift to. She’d have been making some big thing of it by now.’

They all laughed and Ashley forced herself to join them. But she wasn’t at all happy about the situation, and she half hoped Jake would come to the hotel that evening so that she could assure herself that he had not taken offence at her words.

However, Jake did not come to the hotel that evening or indeed for almost a week, and each succeeding day that passed made Ashley more than ever convinced that she was responsible for his absence. She was tempted to ask Mark whether he had spoken to his employer’s son, but she could hardly do that without attracting attention to herself so she had to wait in impatience, hoping for the best.

Then, six days later, she was stretching up to fasten a new bottle of vodka into its place in the wall fitment behind the bar when a voice she was programmed not to forget said: ‘Is the amount of flesh you’re exhibiting designed to increase the thirst of your customers?’

Ashley swung round abruptly, hastily pulling down the short green sweater which had ridden up leaving a smooth expanse of midriff bare. Jake was seated on one of the tall stools at the bar, and she smoothed her hands down over her hips nervously, conscious of a disquieting sense of pleasure in just seeing him there. The bar was quiet at this hour of the evening and her uncle had left her in charge for once while he went down to the cellar to bring up some crates of beer.

‘Good evening, Mr. Seton,’ she greeted him politely.

‘Hello, Ashley.’ He inclined his head. ‘How are you?’

‘Oh—oh, I’m fine.’ Ashley’s fingers gripped the bar very tightly. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

‘I thought your uncle didn’t permit you to serve drinks.’

Ashley flushed. ‘He’s not here right now——’

‘No. I had noticed.’ His tone was dry as he drew out a case of cheroots and put one between his teeth. ‘Leave it. I can wait until David gets back.’

Ashley sighed as he lit the cheroot, pushing her fingers into the hip pockets of her jeans. The fact that he was right, that her uncle did not approve of her attempting to serve customers, irritated her. It was annoying always to be treated as a schoolgirl—even though she still was one. But she would be eighteen in a month, and some girls were already married at that age.

Jake studied her mutinous expression tolerantly. ‘Don’t frown so. I’m not in any hurry.’

Ashley made no reply, turning away to take a cloth and dust the glass shelves behind the bar. She was tempted to ask him why he hadn’t been into the hotel before this, but it was not up to her to question his movements.

‘Tell me,’ he said suddenly, ‘do you have to go to the Grammar every day? I thought Mark told me you’d already passed your exams.’

Ashley straightened, her green eyes mirroring her surprise. ‘I don’t have to go,’ she admitted. ‘But as I’ll be leaving soon …’ She shrugged awkwardly.

‘I see.’ Jake looked down to flick ash into the tray. ‘Do you feel like taking a day off?’

Ashley stifled a gasp. ‘A day off?’ she echoed. ‘W-why?’

Jake continued to take an immense amount of interest in the burning end of his cheroot. ‘I thought you might like to come to a sale with me on Thursday,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s at a country house in Swaledale. As I understand it, they have a particularly good library.’

Ashley put down the cloth she had been holding and stared disbelievingly at his bent head. ‘Why—why are you asking me?’ she got out.

He looked up then, and she saw his eyes were grey, not black as she had at first imagined. ‘Because I thought you’d be interested,’ he replied. ‘Are you?’

Ashley moved awkwardly. ‘I—well, yes—of course I’m interested. But——’

‘But what? I’ll ask your uncle if you want me to. It’s a perfectly harmless invitation. I don’t think he’ll object.’

Ashley glanced over her shoulder. ‘Perhaps not.’

‘Well? Do you want to come or don’t you?’

Ashley shook her head. ‘Who else will be going?’

‘Who else?’ Jake looked impatient. ‘No one else, why?’

Ashley sighed. ‘I don’t understand why you should want to take me.’ She moved her shoulders helplessly. ‘Particularly after—after——’

‘After what?’ Jake’s eyes were intent. ‘After the way you spoke to me the last time we—met?’

‘Well—yes.’

‘I don’t hold grudges.’ He drew deeply on his cheroot. ‘Do you?’

‘I don’t know.’ Ashley was uncomfortable. ‘What—what will people say?’

‘People?’ His lips were drawn in now.

‘Yes, people,’ she insisted, spreading her hands. ‘Look, I know I don’t know Bewford as well as you do, but I have noticed how people talk.’

‘And how will they find out?’

Ashley’s eyes widened. ‘My uncle and aunt will know.’

‘All right.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t tell them.’

Ashley felt the first twinges of alarm. ‘Are you serious?’

‘If you’ve got qualms, don’t tell them.’ Jake sounded bored.

‘But—but I couldn’t not tell them.’

‘That’s up to you, isn’t it?’

‘Don’t you care?’

‘Not particularly.’

Ashley turned away. She felt almost sick with reaction. She had no idea what his real thoughts on the matter were or whether he wanted her to tell anyone or not. And she simply wasn’t the type to lie to her aunt and uncle about something so important. How could she pretend to be going to school as usual when in fact she intended going away for the day with Jake Seton? She drew in a deep breath. He shouldn’t have asked her. He shouldn’t have placed her in such a position. She hadn’t the experience to deal with it.

Taking another breath, she turned back to him just as her uncle came into the bar carrying two crates of light ale.

‘Hello there, Jake,’ he exclaimed warmly, when he saw who was seated at the bar. ‘Long time, no see. Ashley been looking after you, has she?’

Jake nodded. ‘How are you, David?’

Ashley’s uncle pushed the crates of ale beneath the bar with his foot. ‘I’m all right, I suppose,’ he answered with a grin. ‘I’ll be better when this weather improves a bit. Still, at least the snow seems to have disappeared at last.’

Jake stubbed out his cheroot. ‘Yes. Things are getting back to normal.’

‘Have you been away?’ Clearly David Sutton had no qualms about querying Jake’s prolonged absence.

‘As a matter of fact, I have.’ Jake rested his elbows on the bar. ‘There were a couple of functions I had to attend in London, and Barbara had some shopping to do, so we were away three days.’

Barbara! Who was Barbara? Ashley stood slightly behind her uncle wondering whether she could be one of the sisters Karen had mentioned. Or was she his fiancée? After their conversation of a few moments ago, it was all rather unpalatable somehow. How could he sit there and blithely talk about the things he had been doing when only minutes before he had asked her to spend a day with him? Or was she of such little importance that he could dismiss her in much the same way as he would a child?

Her uncle seemed to remember she was still there and turned to her. ‘You can get along now, Ashley,’ he directed with a smile. ‘Thanks for keeping an eye on things while I was away.’

He turned back to add a couple of cubes of ice to a glass containing a generous proportion of whisky which he pushed across the bar to Jake as Ashley moved towards the door which led into the hall at the back of the hotel. Was that all? she thought dully, aware of an intense feeling of disappointment now that it seemed that all chance of spending the day with Jake was slipping out of her grasp. Wasn’t he even going to mention the invitation again?

She glanced back once and her eyes met his over the rim of the glass he had raised to his lips. There was an enigmatic gleam in the grey depths and she thought there was silent mockery there too. She quickened her step and had reached the doorway when he called: ‘Are you coming to Raybury with me on Thursday, Ashley?’

She halted, and swung round, her eyes going to her uncle, who had stopped what he was doing to raise his eyebrows, ‘What’s this?’ he asked, frowning.

Jake swallowed another mouthful of his whisky before saying: ‘I’ve invited Ashley to come to a sale with me on Thursday—in Swaledale. It’s the Fallow House at Raybury.’

Ashley supported herself against the door jamb. ‘I—I don’t know whether I should go, Uncle David,’ she murmured unevenly. ‘Wh-what do you think?’

David Sutton was clearly unprepared for such a question. ‘Well, I don’t know, lass,’ he admitted, his gaze flickering doubtfully towards Jake. ‘You do have your school work to think of …’

Jake finished his whisky and toyed with the glass. ‘One day more or less won’t make a lot of difference, will it?’ he commented. ‘Ashley says she’s leaving soon anyway.’

‘That’s true.’ David looked troubled. ‘All the same, perhaps you should ask your aunt, Ashley. She’s better equipped than me to decide these things.’

Ashley hesitated, aware of the deepening twist to Jake’s mouth. Obviously he considered the whole affair unnecessary and childish. What was he asking, after all? Just a few hours of her time—and for her benefit. She would love the opportunity to wander round the library of some old house.

‘I would like to go, Uncle David,’ she asserted, making a decision. ‘And taking a day from school presents no problems.’

David shook his head. ‘Well, I suppose it’s for you to say,’ he murmured. He looked at Jake. ‘Why do you think this sale will interest Ashley?’

Jake pushed his glass towards the other man, indicating that he would like another. ‘She likes books—libraries. As I understand it, there’s quite a comprehensive library for sale.’

David measured more whisky into Jake’s glass. ‘I see.’ He picked up the ice tongs. ‘And how far is this place—Raybury?’

‘Fifty—maybe sixty miles. It’s near Richmond. I should think Ashley would enjoy seeing something of the countryside around here.’

David handed him his glass again. ‘No doubt,’ he conceded dryly. ‘Well, lass, are you going?’

Ashley nodded. ‘If you don’t mind.’

Her uncle gave her an impatient look before turning back to Jake. ‘What time do you expect to leave?’

‘I thought about nine-thirty, if that’s all right with you.’ He looked towards Ashley, and she nodded, bending her head to avoid the piercing penetration of his eyes. ‘The sale’s not till noon, but we can look round beforehand.’

Ashley felt an unwilling sense of excitement. She couldn’t help it. It was all so totally unexpected, and after the way she had been worrying about Jake Seton this week it was doubly tantalising. But she forced herself to calm down, feeling angry that she should be getting so heated over something which he obviously regarded with little concern. It was just an auction sale, when all was said and done, with a lot of musty old books to browse through, and that was why he was taking her.

Leaving the bar, she made her way to the lounge where her aunt was sitting knitting. Both Mark and Karen were out for the evening and Mona looked up smilingly when Ashley entered the room.

‘Come in, love,’ she greeted her. ‘Has your uncle finished in the cellar?’

‘Yes.’ Ashley subsided into the armchair opposite. ‘It’s cosy in here, isn’t it?’

‘Hmm.’ Her aunt bent to take another ball of wool from her knitting bag. ‘You can put the television on if you’d like to.’

‘No, thanks.’ Ashley crossed her legs, swinging one foot restlessly.

Mona looked at her. ‘You seem distracted. Is something wrong?’

Ashley coloured. ‘No, nothing.’ She reached for a magazine and flicked through its pages without interest. Then, taking the bull by the horns, she said: ‘Would you mind if I took a day off school on Thursday?’

Mona’s busy fingers stilled. ‘Why? What do you want to do?’

‘I—I’ve been invited out for the day,’ said Ashley carefully.

Mona looked surprised. ‘Invited out? Who by?’

‘Actually—Jake Seton.’

There, it was out. Ashley closed the magazine and sat with her hands curled tightly on top of it.

‘With Jake?’ Mona was clearly perplexed. ‘When—that is—how have you spoken to him?’

She didn’t appear angry at the news and Ashley gathered confidence. ‘He was in the bar just now. There—there’s a sale of some old house at Raybury——’

‘Raybury?’

‘Yes. And as there’s a library, he thought I might be interested in going with him.’

Mona began to knit again. ‘Really? And what did you say?’

‘Well, at first I wasn’t sure—but then, after I’d spoken to Uncle David, I said yes.’ Ashley looked anxious. ‘Do you mind?’

Mona shook her head helplessly. ‘Why should I mind?’ She looked up again. ‘I suppose it was kind of him to ask you. Did you—that is—you didn’t insinuate——’

Ashley’s colour deepened again. ‘I knew nothing about it until he mentioned it,’ she denied fiercely. ‘Oh—oh, I wish I’d never said I’d go now!’

‘Why?’ Mona put her knitting aside. ‘Don’t be silly! I’m sure you’ll have a lovely day. Is Miss St. John Forrest going, too?’

‘Miss St. John Forrest?’ Ashley was at a loss. ‘Who’s that?’

‘Jake’s fiancée—Barbara. Barbara St. John Forrest. Haven’t you heard her name mentioned?’

‘I don’t think so.’ Ashley shook her head, but as she did so she remembered a few minutes ago, in the bar, when Jake had mentioned that name and she had wondered whether it might be his sister.

‘But you did know he was engaged?’ Mona was adding. ‘Didn’t you?’

‘Yes. Karen told me.’

Mona seemed satisfied with this news. ‘Good. Well, you’ll have to speak to Miss Kincaid tomorrow and tell her you won’t be in on Thursday, won’t you?’

‘I suppose so.’

Ashley sounded less than enthusiastic and her aunt gave her a little impatient pat on her hand. ‘Stop looking so depressed! Jake will look after you. And at least you can be sure of one thing—he wouldn’t have asked you to go with him without mentioning it to Barbara first. Just go and enjoy yourself.’

Ashley opened the magazine again and tried to concentrate on a feature about making the most of your hair, but her mind wasn’t on it. She was thinking of something her aunt had said—that Jake wouldn’t ask her to go out with him without first discussing it with his fiancée.

This information should have pleased her—it should have reassured her that his invitation was considered and deliberate, and not a spontaneous impulse which might be regretted later. But instead, she felt raw and indignant, reluctant to be the unwilling recipient of his patronising generosity.