Free Mistress of Elvan Hall by Mary Cummins Page A

last letter he said that his business transactions might be concluded fairly quickly, as problems were gradually being ironed out.
    “You’re a fool,” said Mrs. Wyatt to Anne, having called her up to her bedroom on Monday morning.
    Anne said nothing. She was well aware that Mrs. Wyatt thought her a fool.
    “You’ve brought that girl here after all.”
    “She’s doing a splendid job of work,” defended Anne. “There’s so much beauty in this house, so much fine work which is going to be spoiled through neglect. I don’t intend that to happen. Caroline has been trained to save that sort of thing, so it seems to me very sensible to employ her to do it.”
    “She’s after Francis. I don’t know why I should bother tilling you that, but I don’t want more scandal in the house. The Wyatts haven’t always been discreet. And Helen will only encourage her. She wanted her to have Francis in the first place, but I put my foot down. I stopped her games, and for once Francis seemed to listen to me, which I may as well tell you was a surprise. He’s far too fond of going his own way. But you go inviting her back here again. You’re a fool, Anne Wyatt!”
    Anne caught her breath. So there had been something after all. Yet why had Mrs. Wyatt waited till she had Caroline actually working in the house before telling her all this? What hadn’t she told her so when she knew she had gone to see the girl in the first place?
    “Why haven’t you told me this before?” she asked, anger and a spark of fear making her voice husky.
    “Why should I? I thought you learned by mistakes and wouldn’t be such a fool. Besides, I gave you a broad enough hint.”
    “Foolishness and ignorance aren’t the same, are they? I’d no knowledge of what happened...” She bit her lip. “ Did ... did Francis want to marry her?” she asked in a small voice, and for a moment there was a slight softening in the darting gaze of the older woman.
    “He’s a man, isn’t he?” she demanded, “and she’s a soft, pretty little thing. She’s full of feminine wiles, making herself look pretty and helpless, then showing how clever she is with her needle. A very womanly pursuit. She clings, too, so don’t think you’ll get rid of her easily. Get her in, and you can’t get her back out!”
    Anne stared back.
    “I’ve no intention of getting her back out till the job is finished,” she said, with a lift of her chin. “I’ve employed her, and I hope to see that she carries out the work which needs to be done. After that, I’ve no doubt she will be going to London to take up her post-graduate course.”
    “You hope!”
    “I’ve no reason to think otherwise,” said Anne quietly.
    “You must be very sure that Francis is deeply in love with you.”
    The eyes which looked at her were veiled, and Anne felt the hot colour rush to her cheeks, and fear swept over her like a sickness. Francis didn’t love her. In fact, she suspected now that Francis might still be in love with Caroline, but in some way this rather selfish woman had spoiled things for him. What could she have said, which made Francis heed her for once?
    The colour began to drain from Anne’s cheeks leaving her pale and tired-looking.
    “Francis can surely arrange his own life, can’t he?” she asked quietly. “He’s a grown man, and my husband.”
    She stopped, desperately wanting to know more, to probe the past and to have more idea as to how Francis had felt about Caroline, and what strong weapon had been used to break it up. But she knew it was no good asking questions, and pride kept her tongue stilled in any case.
    “I’m getting up now,” Mrs. Wyatt said, rather peevishly. “I want to see those decorators anyway, to see if they’re brightening up that appalling drawing room. It’s like the Black Hole of Calcutta.”
    “It will look beautiful when the walls have been painted ivory,” Anne told her. “It’s just the dark ceiling which makes it look so