Witchstone. Anne Mather
neat rows. ‘I don’t think so, love. You go and talk to Mark and Jake. Where’s Karen?’
‘She’s gone out with Frank.’
Her uncle grimaced. He could have wished his daughter was more like Ashley when it came to choosing her friends. ‘All right,’ he said now. ‘I’ll let you know if I need you later.’
Ashley nodded, but when she left the bar she stood rather hesitantly in the hall, wondering whether she dared to go up to her room instead of having to join her aunt and the two men in the lounge. She was hovering near the foot of the stairs when her aunt came out of the lounge closing the door behind her, obviously on her way to the kitchen.
‘Oh, there you are, Ashley,’ she said, when she saw the girl. ‘I’m just going to make some coffee. You go in there and speak to Mark and Mr. Seton.’
Ashley smoothed her fingers over the rounded knob at the end of the banister. ‘I—er—I was just going upstairs, Aunt Mona,’ she murmured.
Mona frowned. ‘Why? What’s wrong with you?’
‘Nothing’s wrong. I—well, I knew Mark had a guest, and I thought I’d go and read——’
‘Oh, get along with you!’ Mona clicked her tongue impatiently. ‘It’s only Jake! Go on into the lounge, and stop talking such nonsense. I shan’t be long.’
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