The Girl From Over the Sea Page 10

  Lesley turned a disdainful face from the dark gypsyish girl.

  ‘I still think it would be more satisfactory, Dominic, for you and me to discuss our affairs without other people being present. The ones who count are Rita and Richard, and as they are not of age I must speak for them.’

  For the first time Richard entered the discussion. Till now he had sat looking rather bored by the whole subject. ‘If as this ... fellow says’—he made a gesture towards Blake Defontaine, and his voice was wickedly offensive—‘you, Lesley, as the eldest can inherit the estate then you are the one to do the discussing. Like Rita, I’m opting out.’ And he got up and went to sit by his sister on the big settee.

  Lesley shot a glance at the four sitting on the two other sides of the table and her eyes were angry. ‘Rick, can’t you see,’ she said, turning round to the boy, ‘they’re just trying to cause dissension among us? That man knows quite well that the estate must go to you. If there’s no entail then the property must have been left to Ralph Trevendone or there wouldn’t have been those advertisements in the Australian newspapers. As he left no will his property will be divided among his children. All I wanted to do was to let our cousins know that I needn’t be considered, but you and Rita must be!’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, Dominic, why don’t you tell them? You can’t expect Blake to do it.’ This was from Sorrel Lang, her magnificent black eyes blazing at Dominic.

  He looked back at her almost pleadingly and Lesley called to mind the afternoon when she had stood with him on the cliff and Dominic had looked down at the two riders on the beach. She hadn’t been mistaken. He was desperately in love with Sorrel Lang.

  ‘I just don’t know how to put it,’ the young man muttered miserably. ‘It’s such a let-down for them. Look, Blake, suppose we clear out and you just explain.’

  Sorrel broke in again almost angrily, ‘We’re not the ones to clear out. Tell them the truth and let them go home to Australia tonight if possible. I for one shall be glad to see the back of them.’

  Lesley wondered silently why this dark girl should have so much animosity towards them. They were not going to deprive her of anything. She owned that lovely house on the cliff and according to Mrs. Piper was a wealthy widow. She had no place at Trevendone. They said she was a cousin, but Lesley was sure she was a remote one.

  ‘No,’ Blake Defontaine put in now in a measured voice. ‘They’ve come for their share of the Trevendone inheritance. Then I suggest they stay ... and take their share!’

  There was a frozen silence. As Lesley raised her eyes to Blake Defontaine they glinted green while her slender figure tautened. Now what did this mean? He was actually asking them to stay and share the inheritance. Though what it had to do with him she still couldn’t think.

  ‘And now you’d better explain, Dominic,’ he ordered curtly.

  Dominic shrugged and cast him a glance that wasn’t exactly friendly. ‘It won’t take long,’ he said. ‘What it amounts to, you three, is that there is no Trevendone inheritance. At least not for the family. Blake owns absolutely everything around here, and the estate, or the family—put it which way you like—is also in debt to him to the tune of several thousand pounds.’

  Lesley realised that she had grown very, very cold. This explained so much. The way he had dominated not only this place but everyone in it. And yet ... and yet...

  It just wasn’t true, she thought wildly. It couldn’t be true. It was a plot—a way of getting rid of the unwelcome visitors from over the sea.

  ‘It can’t be true!’ she gasped, not daring to look round at the twins. So far they had said nothing, possibly because this had shocked them into silence.

  ‘Not true?’ It was Jennifer who stood up now. ‘Not true?’ she flashed back hotly. ‘Why do you think we’ve turned all this part of the Manor into a hotel? Why do you think we spend all the season slaving in order to pay back some of the debts?’

  And now it was Ricky who jumped up. ‘We ... ll,’ he drawled. ‘Can you beat it? That’s what Joe, one of the boys down at Penpethic Harbour, meant when he made some crack about my living in a classy hotel. I didn’t get it. I thought it was his way of referring to the Manor. But a hotel! Oh, boy, that should rake in the lolly!’

  His listeners received that remark in silence.

  Hotel! The word was pounding in Lesley’s brain, and yet in a way once the word had been used, she wasn’t surprised. She ought to have guessed. All those bedrooms and bathrooms on the one corridor they had seen. The quiet comfort and luxury and yet the impersonal feeling. In its way, she supposed, it must be a super hotel.

  Trevendone Manor, to which she had come from the other end of the world to claim for Ricky ... a hotel ... owned by a cold and cruel stranger.

  She looked across at Dominic. ‘I can’t believe it,’ she whispered.

  ‘It’s true,’ he said flatly.

  Lesley’s big green eyes searched the faces opposite her. Sorrel’s was triumphant, Dominic’s uncomfortable and ashamed, Jennifer’s angry and Blake Defontaine’s—just impassive.

  ‘Is it true?’ she demanded, and for the first time that night she addressed him directly.

  ‘In essentials it’s true,’ he replied curtly. ‘Dominic’s inheritance was a mortgaged property and a further debt, both to my family.’

  His voice went cold, icier than that north-east wind which was still blowing outside, and his expression was sardonic. ‘You three came here to demand your share of Dominic’s inheritance, or perhaps to take all of it. Now it’s up to you. Take your share. Stay and shoulder the responsibility of paying off some of the debt. Dominic and Jennifer are playing their part. Now it is your turn.’

  Richard laughed in a rather raucous manner. ‘If this is true, it’s a jolly good thing you and I opted out, Rita, before we heard about it. We’re in the clear and Lesley is too, because she said she was off back to Australia to marry Steve.’

  Rita interrupted him shrilly. ‘But Steve’s coming here to Cornwall this summer with a Sydney life-saving and surfing team. He’s going to be staying at some place near here. He told me. So Lesley can’t go back yet.’

  The older girl gave an impatient gesture. ‘Be quiet, you two,’ she said abruptly. ‘I just can’t take this in. If it’s true, then the Trevendone family are ... his ... slaves,’ and she made a motion in the direction of the powerful impassive figure at the head of the table.

  ‘You could put it like that,’ said Dominic with a bitter smile.

  Lesley’s glance roved from his romantic dark face to Blake Defontaine, sitting there with a kind of controlled patience. Were they all putting on an act? she asked herself once more. Was this just a curious, even shabby trick to get rid of the inconvenient strangers from over the sea?

  It was Sorrel’s turn again. She yawned like a pretty young black cat. ‘Well, that’s it,’ she said creamily. ‘As that boy has just reminded us, you’ve all opted out, so I suggest that you leave first thing tomorrow and pay your hotel bill before you go.’

  Lesley’s face took on a curiously stubborn look. Why should Sorrel Lang have so much to say, and why did she seem to have so much spite towards them? And how serious had Blake Defontaine been when he had spoken of the three of them playing their part? Was he really challenging her to stay? Lesley wasn’t sure, though it was quite evident that his girl-friend wanted them out of Trevendone Manor at the earliest opportunity. Again Lesley wondered why.

  She looked down at her hands and her long lashes swept her cheek. Two could play at this game, she thought. She would accept this joke of theirs tonight as if she believed it true. That should confound them.

  ‘Naturally, I shall have to talk over this new situation with my brother and sister,’ she said, a glint in her eye as she stared at Blake. ‘But how exactly could we help in settling this debt to you?’

  Sorrel stood up so abruptly that her chair almost overturned. ‘Haven’t we had enough drama for one night?’ she asked passionately. ‘My advice to you
three,’ and her dark eyes whipped over them, resting longest on Lesley, ‘is to clear out here and now, or in the morning at the latest.’

  ‘But not before we’ve paid our hotel bill,’ Lesley said with a white smile.

  Defontaine rose too. ‘You ask how you could help, Miss Trevendone? I understand that you’ve worked in an office as a receptionist, typist and book-keeper. In’ the season we could use you in the hotel, but in the meantime I’m in urgent need of a typist and you could fill in your time with me.’

  There was a sudden challenging brilliance in his eyes and Lesley looked at him warily. Although she had tried to convince herself that she and the twins were the victims of either a plot or a joke to get rid of them she was all at once sure that this man would be no party to it. He would always come out with the brutal truth, the whole and nothing but.

  If they stayed here at the Manor, it would be on his terms, and her heart failed her. They just couldn’t stay. Before she could stammer out a shocked refusal, Sorrel broke in impetuously, ‘Blake, you can’t employ this girl. It would be far wiser to cut your losses and let them go. Maybe they have had luxury hotel accommodation for a week, or more, but better to let them go rather than keep them here to pay for it.’

  He shrugged. ‘As I judge it, they came here with the idea of cashing into an easy life. All I’m asking them to do is to look at the other side of the coin.’

  Lesley took a deep breath. How hatefully difficult he was making it for her, as if he guessed how her heart had failed her at the idea of working for such a ruthless man.

  Sorrel would not be silenced. ‘You’ll regret it,’ she said darkly. ‘They’ll all be more trouble to you than they’re worth.’

  ‘You can say that again, sister ... or should I say cousin,’ Rita cried. ‘If we do stay, and I’m not saying we shall, the more trouble I can cause the more I will, especially to you.’

  ‘Why, you impudent little...’ Sorrel leaned forward, her face aflame, and Lesley remembered again that day when she had wanted to send her large Borzoi after the hapless Bingo. This was a very dangerous young woman.

  Lesley put a restraining hand on Rita’s arm. ‘Rita, you will cause nobody any trouble,’ she said coolly. And then to the four who were now all standing, ‘I don’t want to say anything more tonight. We three have got to talk things over. Tomorrow I shall be in a position to say what we’re going to do. And now, goodnight.’

  With Richard and Rita on either side, she went out of the room.

  After a night of broken sleep, Lesley got up early, watching the sun come up from a stormy red eastern horizon. Thoughts and ideas churned through her mind to be discarded and then brought back again and re-examined, as possible ways out of their dilemma.

  Rita was pale and tired when they got up to the big luxurious bedroom and Lesley had tried to cut short the discussion. ‘Let’s not commit ourselves tonight. Tomorrow morning we’ll make up our minds whether to stay here or leave immediately, go back to London and arrange to sail for home as soon as we can.’

  Both twins looked uncertain, even obstinate. ‘Steve’s coming here in the summer, or near here,’ Rita muttered, and Richard lucked the toe of his shoe, saying, ‘Penpethic Harbour is my scene, not Sydney Harbour, Les.’

  Lesley’s fingernails were digging into the palms of her clenched hands. ‘Let’s leave it till we’ve slept on it. Tomorrow our brains will be clearer.’

  But the trouble was Lesley hadn’t slept, at least only in snatches, and now it was morning and she was no nearer a solution than she had been last night. She dreaded the thought of staying here and working for Blake Defontaine, but what real alternative was there? She was trying to let the twins choose ... or think they were choosing. She must wait to see what they decided.

  When Rita woke up, Lesley said softly, ‘Stay in bed, darling, and I’ll go down and get our breakfast tray. Why, I think...’ she opened the door, “Rick’s bringing it up now.’

  ‘You are bright and early,’ Rita jeered as he came in.

  ‘Couldn’t sleep,’ he answered briefly. ‘Could you two?’ Lesley shook her head, but Rita shrugged. ‘I’m not losing any sleep about a crummy place like this.’

  Lesley poured out the tea. ‘We might as well get down to our problems,’ she said simply. ‘Just now we’ve got to decide whether we leave or we stay. Suppose we leave. The only sensible thing is to go back home. No, don’t interrupt. I haven’t finished. The truth is there’s only enough money to pay for one fare. I might try to get a loan from Australia House...’

  ‘You’re spending no more of your money on us, Les,’ Rick said now, his face white. ‘I’d planned to pay you back directly I got my hands on some Trevendone money, but...’

  ‘Pay me back?’ Lesley stammered.

  ‘Yes, Jim Travers told me when Lactatoo was sold that it had always belonged to you, not to us. Mother and Father were only managers, caretakers for you after your parents were killed. They brought you up and Rita and I have almost forgotten that you aren’t our real sister. Father was a poor sort of manager, I would guess, and after he died it was too much for Mother or for any woman to run the station profitably. No wonder when you came to sell you found you were up to the ears in debt. And then what you did salvage, you blued on passages to bring us to Cornwall to claim an inheritance that never was.

  ‘No, Les, you’ve done enough and more than enough for us and some day I’ll pay you back. But now we’ve got to fend for ourselves.’

  Lesley shook her burnished head. ‘It doesn’t matter about the money. We’re in this together. I take it you won’t go back. What about you, Rita?’

  ‘I won’t go back without Rick,’ the girl said sullenly.

  ‘All right, then we’ll stay. But where?’ Lesley said.

  ‘Les, do you think it’s really true that the Enemy owns just about everything round here?’

  ‘I’m afraid I do,’ she replied slowly, ‘though I’m going to make some further enquiries. All the same, everything points to his being master of all he surveys. It looked like that right from the beginning, you know. He’s ruthless. We’d have to work our passage if we stay here.’

  ‘But what on earth could we do?’ Rita asked petulantly.

  Lesley shook her head. If they stayed she had no intention of the twins doing anything, but she didn’t say so at this point.

  ‘As to repaying that debt, if debt there is,’ Rita continued, ‘it’s just ridiculous.’

  I think it’s only a kind of token payment he’s been expecting from Dominic and Jennifer, and it would be the same for us,’ Lesley said thoughtfully.

  ‘Les, you don’t want to work for him. Couldn’t you get a job in St Benga Town and we’d get a flat or something and...’ Rick’s voice died away. ‘No, I see that wouldn’t do.’

  ‘The point is, will you stay on here if I can arrange for us to do so?’ Lesley demanded abruptly.

  ‘Yes,’ Rick returned decisively.

  Rita shrugged apathetically. The poor darling was still depressed after that wretched ‘flu, Lesley thought with an anxious look. ‘I suppose so,’ Rita said. ‘But I hope you both realise that what Les said last night will be true. We’ll be slaves, and that man will be slave-master.’

  ‘It was a stupid thing for me to say,’ Lesley put in hurriedly. ‘Right, we’ll give it a month’s trial here. If it doesn’t work, we’ll think of something else. Rita, you’ve eaten nothing.’

  ‘I’m not hungry,’ the younger girl said morosely.

  Half way through the morning, Lesley walked out of the big main door determined on an outside exploration of the Manor and the immediate grounds. Some time soon she must seek out the Enemy and make their decision—and her conditions—known to him. But when she saw Dominic Trevendone tinkering with his sports car in the courtyard she altered her mind and went over to him.

  ‘Hello, little Yseult,’ the young man said, straightening up at her approach and smiling into her eyes. ‘I hope you’ve decided to stay on.
It would be a pity to lose you just as we’re getting acquainted.’

  Lesley resisted the blandishment on his handsome face. ‘We haven’t quite made up our minds,’ she said cautiously.

  ‘Then you’d better hurry, darling. Blake is coming over just before lunch to find out what you’re going to do. The hotel correspondence is piling up and I’m not much of a hand at dealing with it, while Jennifer is the world’s worst typist. Mrs. Thomas who has done that side of the work for the past five years has just remarried and we’ve got to have somebody in her place. Blake is going mad because his precious book is being held up.’

  His handsome eyes were amused, and Lesley saw that he had got over his gloom of the previous night.

  ‘I’ve still a few questions to ask,’ she said, looking at him gravely. ‘How does that man come to be the owner of everything round here?’

  ‘Darling, he inherited it from a great-uncle, when he was exactly fifteen years old, and he’s been around here more or less all the time ever since.’

  ‘But how ... how did his great-uncle get the estate?’ Lesley asked in a puzzled voice.

  Dominic said with a shrug, ‘It’s a long story, but in essentials it amounts to this. Our grandfather—yours too—was a gambler, a dishonest one too. He mortgaged this place to pay his debts and then borrowed thousands from Blake’s great-uncle on the security of a house that wasn’t his. He could have been jailed and the family turned out, but instead old Miles Defontaine took over the mortgage, let the family remain in possession and hoped the Trevendones would pay him back one day. They never did, and now they never will.

  ‘When my father died, he made Blake our guardian—Jennifer’s and mine. It was ludicrous, for he wasn’t old enough to be anyone’s guardian. But he takes everything very seriously, so he started on the Home Farm for pedigree sheep and cattle and then when Jennifer and I were old enough to run it, he turned this part of the house into a hotel. So we slave here, the pair of us, throughout the season.’