Witchstone

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?