Lure of the Falcon Read online

  'He's only a bird of passage,' his uncle replied philosophically. 'He doesn't stay the course with us until the winter comes. He prefers a sunnier climate.'

  The cuckoo was like herself, Wyn thought with a pang. A bird of passage. She would willingly stay the course-until the winter of their lives, if she could travel the road by Russell's side, but like the cuckoo she was only a spring visitor to the Grange. By July

  her work, too, would be done. She hoped for Russell's sake that by then she would have found Tempest Tylar's will, and that it would be in his favour. So many hopes—she raised her head as the birds cry came hauntingly from the nearby thickets. Instinct would soon drive it away from the green, shaded woods on the Tylar land, to seek brighter sunshine in another clime. A mission accomplished would be her reason to depart, when all her instinct bade her remain. And when she left, she knew sadly that she would leave the sunshine behind her.

  `Take Wyn in, you know where to go.' Russell reined to a halt by the church lych gate, and once again held out his hand to help her down. He kept the reins in his other as a precaution, but the cob stood patiently enough. 'I'll loose her in the paddock at the back of the church, and join you in a minute,' he promised.

  'Oh, don't go off with the coats.' She stopped him hastily, and he bent and rescued the two small garments and handed them over the side of the trap.

  'I should make sure they put them on,' he advised. 'The sun's not been with us for long enough yet this year to warm the walls.' He indicated the tiny, ancient church, whose stone walls Wyn judged would probably be a foot thick, and take a good deal of sun to thaw them from the winter cold.

  'I'll make sure they do.' We're behaving like a married couple, she thought, chokingly conscious of Jon's alert gaze on her face as she handed him his blazer, and slipped Jane's jacket over her arms before taking her hand and following the boy into the dimness of the church.

  The children led her 'to a large square family pew

  at the head of the church, and soon they were joined by Val and his passengers. Louise seated herself next to Wyn, and Val promptly claimed her other side. She swallowed her disappointment and shared his hymn book, an unnecessary economy since there was a stack of them which he could have easily reached in a corner of the pew. She saw Russell glance at the pile as he joined them, but Val shook his head, and looking slightly surprised at their desire to share he took his own seat on the other side by the children.

  'The solicitor rang just before we came out,' Louise told Russell as they walked back to the car together after the service was over. 'He said he'd be at home until lunch time if you'd care to call him when you get back.'

  'He said he was hoping to have sight of some more of Tempest's papers. Some documents he'd left in a bank somewhere,' Russell said thoughtfully.

  'Perhaps he's found a copy of the will,' Val butted in excitedly.

  `He wouldn't say.' Louise sounded doubtful.

  'These legal johnnies never do.' Val was not to be put off. 'Why don't you drive the car home, Russ? I'll bring the trap back for you,' he offered generously.

  'Well—if you're sure you don't mind?' Russell hesi tated, looking at Wyn.

  'Of course I don't mind! You must find out what he wants.' Wyn felt as excited as Val. And why should Russell ask her if she minded? She did mind—very much. She resented anyone denying her the ride back in the trap with Russell. Why couldn't the solicitor have contacted his client during normal working hours in the week, like anybody else, and left them their Sun-

  day in peace? It was selfish of her, she knew, and she crushed the feeling down, hoping the solicitor's news would be good. If it was, and Russell was indeed heir to the Grange, it would probably hasten his marriage to Diane, once he knew that his position was assured. The thought added to her depression as she helped Val shaft the cob and took her seat beside him, where Russell had sat on their outward journey.

  'Let's have a sing-song.' Val's irrepressible spirits bubbled over as soon as they left the village behind them. 'Jingle bells, jingle bells ...' He burst into song, and the children followed suit, their gay young voices twinkling along behind Val's, less sure of the words, but happily willing to join in the noise. Irrationally, the sound irritated Wyn. The peaceful silence of the journey out, followed by the quiet ritual of the service, had left her in no mood for the noisy demonstration.

  'You can't hear the cuckoo,' she protested, and Val looked at her in surprise.

  'What cuckoo? Oh, look!' He elevated his face skywards. 'There goes one of the Club planes.'

  'Are you going flying today?' Wyn hastily threw him a red herring. She couldn't explain about the cuckoo. He probably would not understand if she tried.

  'Yes, I'm going this afternoon. Come with me for a flip,' he invited immediately.

  'I'd be terrified!' she laughed. 'And besides, I must write some letters.' She set the seal on her refusal, and blocked his protest. 'You go ahead and enjoy yourself up there.' Her upward glance cast doubts about the possibility of anyone enjoying being so far from the ground in such a small plane.

  'It s marvellous up there,' Val enthused. 'If only I could do it for a living ...'

  'Why can't you compromise?' Wyn asked him. 'There must be transport needed on your brother-in-law's plantation. What he grows must have to be ferried out somehow.'

  'The transport system's a bit primitive from all accounts, out there,' he replied ruefully.

  'Then improve it!' She supplied him with a ready-made challenge. 'You're going out there to train as manager. Well, manage the transport side. Build your own runway—you wouldn't want one all that long,' she reminded him, 'you'd hardly be flying jet liners from it,' she said impatiently.

  'Eureka! You've got it! Why didn't I think of that before?' Val cried delightedly. 'Wyn, you're wonderful!' He pulled the trap to a standstill outside the front door of the Grange and leapt to the ground enthusiastically. Eagerly he reached back and lifted Wyn to the ground, and immediately kissed her soundly on both cheeks. 'This'll be great news for the family,' he told her joyfully.

  'Russell should have some news too,' she brought him down to earth, laughing at his delight. Val had A lot of growing up to do yet. 'I wonder what the solicitor had to tell him?'

  'That's what I came out to tell you.' Russell stood just outside the front door, watching them, and Wyn's heart sank as she saw the familiar meeting of his dark brows across eyes that were regarding herself and Val angrily. 'But I see you're both occupied,' he continued bitingly, `so my news can wait until later,' and he turned and stalked back indoors.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE solicitor had not found a will among Tempest Tylar's papers. That much Wyn gathered from the gloomy silence that pervaded the Sunday lunch table, the depressed atmosphere even quietening the two children, who for once bent their attention on their food, and made no attempt to liven the—to them—dull pastime of eating with their chatter.

  Russell sat in black-browed silence, scarcely responding to Val's enthusing over Wyn's suggestion to combine his hobby and his future career, to the benefit of both, and his own satisfaction.

  It's a great idea. I can't think why I hadn't thought of it before,' he said wonderingly.

  'I'm glad it's helped you to make up your mind about going out to the plantation.' His mother cast a grateful glance in Wyn's direction. 'It's nice to know your career's settled, at least.' The relief in her voice betrayed the anxiety she still felt about her elder son's prospects.

  `Why not cable East and tell them you're coming?' Russell came out of his brown study to offer practical advice. 'The last time they wrote home, they said they were desperate for help,' he pointed out, and Val rose from his chair impetuously.

  'I'll do it now—if you'll excuse me,' he added hastily, unable to bear a wasted minute now he had found a prospect that appealed to him, and Wyn nodded her

  permission tolerantly. He's got the bit between his teeth as badly as the mare, she thought amusedly.

  'I'm
glad I was able to help,' she smiled at Louise, conscious that she had helped his mother as much as Val, so far as peace of mind was concerned.

  `Let's hope you can help with equal success in the job you've come here to do.' Russell spoke drily from the other side of the table, addressing her directly for the first time since she had come downstairs. Anger still rode his voice, and Wyn flushed. In the job you're paid to do, he wanted to say, she thought bitterly. His mother's glance was quietly anxious as it rested on him, doubtless seeing his anger as resulting from disappointment over the solicitor's message. To receive such a call, and hurry home buoyed by hope, then to have his expectations dashed in such a cruel manner, would upset any man, but Wyn knew that the force of his annoyance was directed at herself. Russell had seen Val kiss her, and he was furious with them both.

  If he was angry because he was jealous I wouldn't mind, she thought miserably, giving up her pretence of eating food that she suddenly found she could not force down. It wouldn't be so bad, then. He's just angry because his brother's kissed an employee. Her thoughts ran on depressingly. In Russell's eyes, it was probably tantamount to finding Diane in the arms of Corporal Benny. She felt glad she had refused Val's invitation to go flying that afternoon. Russell, she felt sure, would not approve.

  It shouldn't matter to me whether he approves or not, I'm a free agent, she told herself, but her argument was unconvincing. It did matter, very much, and it was with a sigh of relief she at last left the lunch table and

  sought the privacy of her own room, to write the letters which she had in truth wanted to send off, it was not merely an excuse she had given Val.

  'You should have come up with me,' he scolded her at supper time. 'It was grand up there, this afternoon.'

  'I like my feet on the ground,' she shook her head firmly. Russell would know, now, that Val had asked her out, and that she had refused. It was a negative sort of satisfaction, but at least it was something. 'You'll have to get a plane of your own,' she teased the enthusiast, 'you'll wear out the Club planes if you go there every day.'

  'I'd love a kite of my own.' Val's eyes were suddenly wistful, making him look curiously like Russell in one of his softer moods. 'The trouble is, they cost a bomb, and its all I can do to keep the car filled up.'

  'You should get one with a smaller engine,' his brother retorted. 'By the way, that reminds me, the can of spare fuel in the garage is empty. He looked at Val accusingly.

  'I know.' Val's retort was sheepish. 'I ran out of juice and cash at the same time,' he explained guiltily. 'I'll get some tomorrow, my allowance is due then,' he promised. 'It'll be better when I'm earning,' his cheery optimism reasserted itself.

  'You've got to be working on the plantation to qualify for a salary from it,' Russell pointed out drily. 'And by that time you'll be out of reach for refilling my petrol can,' he added significantly.

  'I only took enough to get me to the Club and back,' Val protested. 'Powered flying's expensive,' he told Wyn earnestly. 'You've no idea how the charges mount up for a few hours aloft.'

  Wyn could guess, but she had no desire to get involved in the argument between the two brothers. Russell's mood did not seem to have improved much since lunchtime.

  'You should go to the Club less often,' Russell retorted unfeelingly, and Wyn wondered if it was he who made his brother an allowance. It would account for his authoritative attitude towards him, and in a great measure for Val's seeming acceptance, of his authority. It would be typical of Russell, Wyn thought; he seemed to regard the entire family as his responsibility, even to his small niece and nephew, whom he could justifiably regard as no concern of his. She had noticed this trait in him before, and liked him for it. Her own family was a closely knit one, and it was an attitude of mind she understood.

  'I'm going to sort out my books and things, I might want to take some of them along with me.' Val departed energetically, and Louise laughed.

  'Isn't it wonderful what enthusiasm can do?' she chuckled. 'You've wrought a real change in Val, my dear,' she smiled at Wyn.

  'Hasn't she?' Russell murmured sarcastically, and Wyn rose to her feet abruptly, sudden anger giving her the strength to forget her feelings for him.

  'It's good to know I've pleased somebody,' she snapped, and gathering up her wrap she followed Val out of the door.

  'If you're still going to the post box, miss, I'd be glad if you'd drop a letter in for me.' She bumped into Nanny on the other side of the door. 'It'll go by the first post in the morning, then.'

  'I'll take it.' Wyn held out her hand. 'I'm going to

  post my own.' She had said so earlier, had asked the children's nurse where she might find the nearest posting box, fearing it could be as far away as the village.

  `Don't forget to turn left at the Lodge gates,' her informant reminded her now. 'The post box is let into the wall a few yards along the lane, it's not all that easy to find unless you know where it is.' With which piece of wisdom she left Wyn and carried on into the room to clear away the supper things.

  `I'll walk with you.' To Wyn's surprise Russell was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs when she came down. She had not bothered to slip her arms into the sleeves of her coat, content to let it swing loose from her shoulders, and she carried her bundle of letters in her hand. He must have heard Nanny speak to her, for the door had been open. She hesitated on the bottom step.

  `I'll take yours as well, if you like.' Perversely she did not want him to come with her. Her heart did uncomfortable things when she was with him, and his very closeness was a strain.

  `I've got none to post,' he answered. But like Nanny said, the post box isn't easy to find unless you know where it is.' His lips twitched. 'And besides, it's getting dusk.'

  `I'm not afraid in the dark.' She was used to isolated countryside, and rather enjoyed walking when the sun had gone down.

  `I can believe that.' He looked at her strangely, and she wondered what he meant. Why did he have to bite every time she spoke? she thought crossly. It would be a lot easier if he was pleasant to get on with, the same as Val. And a lot harder on her heart, she admitted

  ruefully. It was better as it was. With a shrug she walked out with him into the gentle summer twilight, which greyed the air and for some odd reason made the colours seem deeper than they were during the daytime, adding a richness that was paled by the bright sunshine. She pulled her coat more closely about her, seeking sudden protection. From what? She did not know, except probably from the hurt that loving him had brought. She stole a glance at his face, but it was turned away from her, his eyes seeking the black tracery of the trees that lined the drive, and presented a tunnel of semi-darkness for them to walk through.

  'Mind the dead bits of wood.' Russell put his arm about her shoulder and drew her to him. Her hand was out of reach under her coat. 'There's rather a lot of it just about here, we had a bad wind storm the week before you came, and it brought a number of small branches down.'

  'I noticed them when we came along in the trap this morning.' Her country-bred eyes had registered their presence, and the probable reason for the debris. 'It was a lovely run to church.' Her voice was unconsciously wistful, bringing the man's eyes down to rest on her face, which showed as a small white blur below his shoulder, indistinct in the half light, so that he had to judge her expression by the tone of her voice.

  'You had two rides in the trap, one out and one back,' he reminded her, and there was a question in his words, but Wyn did not notice, her ears still echoed to the remembered cry of the cuckoo, the migrant wanderer whom she would soon have to emulate, and return, like the bird, whence she came.

  `Y-e-s ... yes, of course I did.' She became more posi-

  tive, unwilling to show how much she disliked the noisy journey home. The children loved it, alighting laughing and eager when they returned to the Grange, and running to Louise eagerly to tell her the songs they had chanted along the way. Russell had been within earshot at the time; and must have known what the j
ourney back had been like. 'We were quite—gay--on the way back.' She tried to instil enthusiasm into her explanation, as unaware of her signal lack of success as she was of the thoughtful look in her companion's eyes, that still sought her face even though darkness had stolen the world from the twilight, and made it impossible for him to discern it clearly. -

  'I should have walked straight past the pillar box if you hadn't come with me,' she confessed, as Russell took the letters from her and slipped them into the mouth of the Post Office receptacle let into the drystone wall at the side of the lane. She did not add that she had forgotten to look for it. Forgotten, even, the letters in her hand, that were the sole purpose of her journey.

  `Then it's a good job I came.' He stepped back from the grass verge, high with a tangle of grasses and flowers. Wyn could smell honeysuckle from somewhere close by, and thought that its sweetness would always remind her of this bittersweet walk together through the soft summer darkness. Russell had not offered his reason for wanting to come with her. Perhaps he intended to talk to her about Val—there was no doubt he was furious when he saw them kiss. Perhaps it was his over-developed sense of responsibility towards her while she was in his home. It did not matter. All that mattered was that for a few stolen moments he was with her, and seemed inclined to let his troubles remain

  behind him at the Grange, and enjoy their walk together. Any companion would probably have done just as well, she realised, since Diane was not with him. She was simply glad that it was herself.

  'Slip your arms in your sleeves,' he caught her coat from about her shoulders, 'it's getting chilly.'

  She wasn't cold, but she did as he told her, taking a long time to fasten the buttons as an excuse to occupy her hands, that longed to take his own, feeling again the sure, firm clasp of his fingers as he helped her into the trap that morning. She bent her head over her task, and looked up again quickly as a thin, high squeak sounded from just overhead.