Witchstone

Heaving a sigh, Ashley crossed the hall and opened the lounge door. Both Mark and Jake Seton were settled in the easy chairs at either side of the blazing fire. They looked relaxed and comfortable, and Ashley felt as though she was interrupting them when they looked up at her entrance.

Jake Seton got immediately to his feet, indicating his chair. ‘Would you like to sit here?’ he asked.

Ashley closed the door and quickly subsided into a smaller chair quite close by. ‘No, really, thank you. I’m perfectly all right here.’

‘Very well.’

Jake exchanged a glance with Mark and then resumed his earlier position. For a few awkward moments nobody said anything and whatever conversation had been going on before Ashley’s entrance had clearly been broken up. Ashley shifted uncomfortably. She should have insisted upon going upstairs.

But then Jake drew out a slim case of cheroots and offered them to Mark, saying: ‘Mark tells me you’re still at school, Ashley.’

Ashley flashed a quick look in Mark’s direction, but he was leaning forward to light his cheroot from the lighter Jake had proffered and didn’t notice. ‘Yes, I am,’ she replied, rather tersely.

Jake lay back in his chair inhaling deeply on the tobacco. ‘And what do you intend to do afterwards? Go on to university?’

Ashley tugged a strand of her hair. ‘I don’t think so. I—well, I shall probably take up library work. That’s really what I want to do.’

‘Library work,’ considered Jake thoughtfully. ‘Where? In Bewford?’

‘As a matter of fact, yes.’ Ashley didn’t altogether care for this interrogation.

Jake nodded. ‘You like it here, then? You come from London, don’t you?’

‘Mark seems to have told you an awful lot about me, doesn’t he?’ parried Ashley, feeling not unreasonably impatient.

Jake smiled then, a lazy attractive smile that seemed to attack her in that vulnerable region below her ribcage in a curiously disturbing way. ‘Actually, he didn’t tell me that,’ he confessed charmingly. ‘David—your uncle, that is—told me you were coming to live with them before I left for Grüssmatte.’

‘Oh!’

Ashley dug her nails into the moquette upholstery of her chair arm, refusing to look at her cousin who she sensed was annoyed with her now. And as though to prove this point, Mark got to his feet just then and said: ‘As Ashley seems averse to talking about herself for once, shall we have a drink? Jake—your usual?’

Ashley looked up. ‘Your mother’s making coffee!’ she exclaimed.

‘So?’ Mark looked down at her penetratingly, and her eyes dropped before his. ‘Is there any law which says we can’t have both?’

Ashley didn’t bother to reply and Mark opened the lounge door. ‘Shan’t be a minute, Jake.’ He flicked his gaze to Ashley. ‘If you get into difficulties with this monster, just yell.’

After the door had closed behind him, Ashley felt worse than ever. At least when Mark had been present the onus had not been upon her as it was now. Forcing herself to meet Jake Seton’s somewhat amused gaze, she said: ‘Do you like skiing, Mr. Seton?’

‘Very much.’ He inclined his head.

Ashley sighed, looking down at her probing fingers again. ‘And is that all you do?’

‘Ski?’ Jake studied the glowing tip of his cheroot. ‘I wonder what you would say if I said yes.’

Ashley looked up defensively. ‘I shouldn’t say anything. It’s nothing to do with me.’

‘Isn’t it?’ Jake’s eyes were narrowed now and she couldn’t read their expression. ‘But I detected a note of cynicism in your voice.’

Ashley was taken aback. ‘I think you’re mistaken.’

Jake shrugged. ‘Very well. If you choose not to pursue it.’

‘Pursue what?’

He drew deeply on this cheroot again. ‘You asked what else I did. In fact, I believe the question was—if I did anything else.’

Ashley moved uncomfortably, wishing she’d never started this. Changing the subject entirely, she said: ‘It’s very cold this evening, isn’t it? Although I don’t suppose you find it any colder than Austria——’

‘Come and sit by the fire, then. You said you weren’t cold earlier on,’ he remarked.

Ashley shook her head. ‘I—I meant outside.’

‘I see.’ He paused. ‘Tell me, do you know Grüssmatte?’

‘Grüssmatte?’ For a moment she was all at sea.

‘Yes, Grüssmatte. In Austria. You said you didn’t expect I would find this climate any colder than Austria. I wondered how you knew I’d been in Austria.’

Ashley flushed brilliantly. ‘Er—as a matter of fact, Uncle David told me.’

‘Did he indeed?’ Jake’s eyes were intent between the thick lashes. ‘And were you discussing me with your uncle?’

‘I—no—at least, not really.’ Ashley’s nails were almost penetrating the moquette as the pressure increased.

‘But you did listen when he spoke to you, didn’t you?’

Ashley decided the only way open to her was attack. ‘If you’re trying to tie me up in knots by proving that I was discussing you with Uncle David——’

Jake lay back in his chair, his expression mildly indulgent. ‘Now why would I do a thing like that?’ he mocked. ‘You seem perfectly capable of doing it for yourself.’

To Ashley’s relief, Mark chose that moment to re-enter the room. ‘Oh, good,’ he exclaimed. ‘You’re talking to one another. I had visions of a pitched battle being waged in my absence.’

‘Don’t be silly, Mark!’ Ashley was curt. ‘What’s this?’

Mark was handing her a tall glass laced with ice cubes, and he grinned. ‘Taste it! I think you’ll like it. It’s just potent enough to give the lemonade a kick.’

Ashley sipped the liquid experimentally. It was delicious, but she couldn’t recognise the flavour.

‘I think it looks like Advocaat,’ remarked Jake, swallowing a mouthful of the amber liquid Mark had given him.

‘It is,’ agreed Mark, subsiding into his armchair again with a tall glass of lager. ‘A golden drink for a golden girl!’

‘Mark!’

Ashley felt more embarrassed than ever, but as her aunt arrived with the coffee she was saved the need of having to parry any further comments from either of them. Conversation became general and it was not noticeable that Ashley played very little part in it. She was content to sit in her chair and drink her coffee and remain silent, absorbed as she was with her own thoughts.

CHAPTER TWO

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.’