Mountain Magic Page 8

  Marianne, on the other hand, persistently avoided looking at her whenever she happened to be in the dining-room at the same time as Toni, and the latter had the feeling that, although conscious of her, she was making a deliberate attempt to ignore the English girl as if she did not exist.

  She and Kurt still shared the same table, and usually they appeared for a meal at the same time. Despite the incident of a few days before, and Kurt’s uncompromising attitude towards her, Marianne was obviously still very sure of herself, and apparently not in the least resentful because she had been more or less publicly reproved by her employer.

  Unlike Toni she had a wonderful wardrobe and each night she appeared in something different and spectacular. Sometimes it was something dark and shadowy like her hair; sometimes it was golden and glittering, or delicate and pastel-coloured like a delicious seductive moth.

  Kurt often gazed at her as if he admired her—or as if something about her compelled him to watch her. And Toni, more or less ignored by him—save that once every day, at least, he enquired punctiliously after her health—wondered why she had ever been so foolish as to imagine that he had gazed at her with much more than mere admiration in his look ... tenderness and concern that made his black eyes look positively brilliant under the protection of their feminine eyelashes, while his voice seemed to have vibrated with concern when he spoke to her.

  It must have been the blow on the head, and the shock of the accident, that had caused her to have strange hallucinations.

  She avoided the hotel ballroom where couples drifted dreamily to the music of zithers and accordions several nights a week, and so she never knew whether Kurt and Marianne danced there too, once their leisurely dinners were over, but she rather suspected this was one thing Kurt would not have considered in keeping with the dignity of a hotel proprietor.

  One night, when she went up early to bed, she encountered Marianne in the corridor. This was one occasion when neither Antoine nor his manageress had been in the dining-room when she left it, and Marianne looked vexed and tight-lipped, as if something had happened that had made her late, and she resented it.

  She looked hard and coldly at Toni in the dim light of the corridor.

  “How does it feel to be a lady of leisure?” she enquired with a metallic edge to her voice. “I hope you’re feeling the urge to get back to work, because this sort of thing can’t last, you know. Monsieur Antoine is a business man, not a philanthropist!”

  Toni felt her face grow hot under one of the wall lights of the corridor. At the same time her body stiffened with resentment, and she might have said something unwise but for the fact that another door in the corridor opened and Kurt Antoine emerged and stood looking frowningly at the two of them.

  “You have dined, Miss Darcy?” he asked.

  Before she could answer Marianne said coldly;

  “I was just going down myself, I’m late. The work is piling up, and there are not enough hands to cope with it. You’ll have to take this matter of pressure of work seriously, Kurt, if complaints are not to start coming in from the guests.”

  For answer he merely lifted his eyebrows a trifle, and then turned back to Toni with a strangely attractive smile—and unexpected, human smile.

  “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of going to bed as early as this, Miss Darcy? Just when the evening’s beginning! Come down and join us for coffee, and then when we’ve finished our meal we might sample the delights of the ballroom floor.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting that Miss Darcy is an invalid?” Marianne asked, with exceptional dryness. “Or we’ve been given to understand that she’s an invalid!”

  “Oh, I think she’s fit enough now to enjoy herself—” Kurt was beginning, deliberately ignoring the dryness in Marianne’s tone, when down the corridor came Philip Gresham, having just emerged from the lift.

  He smiled at Toni, while almost pointedly ignoring the other two.

  “Oh, so there you are!” he exclaimed. “I was coming to rout you out. There’s a, dance on tonight—quite a gala occasion, I believe. You mustn’t be permitted to go to bed.” He slipped his hand inside her arm familiarly. “Come and join me on the terrace first to look at the stare! It’s a wonderful night.”

  Out of the corner of her eye Toni saw her employer walk away with his hand firmly gripping Marianne’s arm.

  “In that case, we’ll go and have our meal, Marianne,” he said. His face was suddenly cold and detached, his voice as remote as the stars outside the window. “I’m afraid you must be very hungry, my dear, and I’m sorry you had to work late. We really will have to reorganize things a bit, I expect.”

  Toni felt as if she had been deprived of something that might have proved immeasurably valuable, and she removed her arm from contact with Gresham s fingers.

  “Goodnight,” she said. “I’m going to bed.”

  And he stood back, still smiling a little, as if her rebuff did not displease him, and he was content to wait.

  TWO days later he met her coming out of the wood she frequently visited after lunch to escape the heat of the day, and dropped his first real bombshell.

  “You have a visitor, Toni,” he prepared her. “He’s waiting for you in Mr. Antoine’s office.”

  “A visitor?” She stared at him in astonishment. “But that’s impossible. No one knows I’m here, and—”

  “General Darcy-Cunninghame is here. Your uncle, isn’t he? I felt it my duty to get in touch with him.”

  “You got in touch with him?” The utter amazement in her voice brought a faint touch of colour to his face. “But what right had you? And,” amazement filling her voice as well, “how did you know he’s my uncle, or any relative of mine?”

  His expression became more sunny.

  “Don’t you recall that I once more or less trapped you into an admission that you knew General Cunninghame? I told you I knew him—that my father had known him—and your expression gave you away! And when I left here the other week I set afoot a few enquiries, and by the oddest chance ran into the General himself having a gay weekend in Paris. I asked him a few blunt questions, and we soon arrived at the truth. He promised to establish contact with you almost immediately, and the old boy has kept his word. He’s here in the hotel asking questions, lots of questions, of your employer and the owner of this hotel, our friend Monsieur Kurt Antoine! Somehow I don’t think you’ll be allowed to remain here for long after this!”

  Toni gazed at him with as much of the vexation and consternation that she was feeling that she could cram into her expression, and accompanied him back to the hotel. She said angrily:

  “You had no right to do this! Absolutely no right! For one thing, my uncle and I are not even on good terms with one another...”

  “I know that.” He patted her shoulder. “But that was merely the sort of thing that often happens in families, and on your uncle’s part at least there is no resentment ... only the utmost concern because you’ve been working here in circumstances that would arouse the ire of any blood relation. I’ve no doubt at all our friend Antoine is really receiving a little of the rough treatment, at any rate, the rough edge of the General’s tongue. And not before time! I hope it knocks a little of the arrogance out of him...”

  But when Toni and Gresham were ushered into Antoine’s office the Austrian did not give the impression that very much of the stuffing had been knocked out of him. He looked a little green, and unusually pale—if a dark, tanned skin can ever look really pale, and his eyes were bleak as they swung towards Toni.

  General Darcy-Cunninghame, a tall, soldierly man with prematurely white hair and penetrating, shrewd blue eyes, took one long look at his niece, and then went up to her and caught her by her slim shoulders and held them firmly.

  “Toinette,” he said, obviously strangely moved, “there isn’t much of you, but what there is is plainly incapable of making sure you’re well looked after. Gresham here tells me you’ve been working like a slave in this hotel. Why didn’t y
ou let me know the necessity for doing anything of the kind had arisen?”

  Toni, who had had a very good reason for not letting her uncle know of her whereabouts, stood stiffly as if at attention, with his hands on her shoulders, and then melted before the appeal in his eyes. After all, he was her father’s brother—a much older brother, hence, perhaps, his critical attitude towards a man who had had many weaknesses, although his daughter had adored him—and blood, after all, is thicker than water. She had been so lonely and estranged in the past few months that now that she was confronted with one who had the right to look at her with a certain amount of indignation her whole being seemed to melt in a mixture of forgiveness and relief and gratitude because that indignation was there.

  Gone all at once was the carefully nursed resentment, the bitter sense of grievance, and she wanted to cry out with relief because at last he had found her, and she was no longer alone.

  Instead of which she gulped, drew a faintly shaky breath, and spoke his name:

  “Uncle! Uncle David! I can’t think why you bothered to try and find me...”

  “No? Well, I was beginning to give up in despair when Gresham here put me wise to where I could find you. He also warned me that I wouldn’t be pleased when I did find you, and I’m not. But I’m so utterly thankful to know you’re alive and well that I feel capable of overlooking a lot—for the time being!” And then he put both arms somewhat awkwardly round her and gave her a hug that temporarily winded her a trifle. After which he kissed her soundly on each cheek, and said something gruffly about only having one niece and being damned fond of her, and forbidding her ever to try and do such a successful disappearing trick again.

  “If it hadn’t been for young Philip here I wouldn’t have a clue as to where you were!”

  “I’m sorry, Uncle,” Toni apologised humbly. And then for an instant her eyes met those of her employer, and she realised that he was being very patient.

  What had passed between him and her uncle she had no idea, but she felt fairly certain the General had not been particularly tactful.

  “I’m sorry, Uncle,” she repeated, and added hastily, “but you mustn’t get hold of any wrong ideas. Monsieur Antoine employed me because when I first met him I was employed by someone who treated me far less considerately than he has done—”

  “Impossible!” Gresham put in with a kind of triumphant finality.

  Toni sent him a look that was completely disapproving, and felt her indignation against him rise with every second.

  “But it’s true,” she said insistently. “I was very unhappy, and very much put upon, when Monsieur Antoine made me realise that I wasn’t displaying much spirit. And then he brought me here.” Her glance swung round again to Gresham, as if she would dismiss him altogether from the room. “For the past week I’ve been doing nothing at all ... living like a guest in the hotel—”

  “Yes, I’ve heard all about that,” the General interrupted her with rather an odd glance in the direction of the man whose private office they were occupying. “Monsieur Antoine and I have had a little talk ... quite a long talk, in fact. I’ve heard all about your accident, and your inability to balance a loaded tray. And I must say you must have been very foolish ever to attempt such a thing.”

  He said nothing more in the way of criticism, and Philip Gresham looked a little surprised. Kurt Antoine moved to Toni and suggested that she would be more comfortable in a chair. His tone was stiff; his eyes gave away nothing at all, but she gathered there was a widening gulf between them. When he put out a hand and almost thrust her into a chair she knew that he was controlling himself with something of an effort. And Philip Gresham's presence might have been responsible for his almost forbidding grimness.

  Philip must have sensed that his presence was no longer strictly necessary, for with a slight shrug of the shoulders he moved to the door.

  “Oh, well, at least I’m happy to have been of service,” he remarked, with a long look at Toni. “And I’ll always be happy to be of service...”

  He left the room with a soft closing of the door. Toni said hastily to her employer,

  “Monsieur Antoine, I hope you don’t think that I—?”

  Her uncle patted her on the shoulder.

  “Monsieur Antoine doesn’t think anything of the kind, my dear! He has formed the opinion that you’re somewhat long-suffering. And for that reason alone I’m glad that young Gresham got in touch with me. However—” and he strode to the window and looked out at the beauty of the Alpine afternoon—“I’m not surprised you felt inclined to hang on in a spot like this. It reminds me of the days when I was young and active and addicted to climbing mountains. It would take very little to start me climbing again—” His very blue eyes were on the high peaks, with their light powdering of snow that remained there eternally and the hard blue sky behind them, and the strong, clean lines of his ascetic face softened.

  “What a spot!” he exclaimed. “What a spot in which to find a niece...!” He turned to her. “Toinette, my dear, I’ve decided to stay here for a few days, and Monsieur Antoine is going to fix me up with a room. I take it that you’re not in any hurry to tear yourself away, although of course you’ll come back to England with me when I go?”

  Toni looked a little disconcerted. All this was so sudden that she hardly knew what to say. But Kurt Antoine spoke for her:

  “I’m sure Miss Darcy can hardly wait to get back to England,” he observed dryly. “But until she does so I hope she’ll consent to remain as my guest. The hotel owes her something.” This was said on an even drier note, and with an utterly inscrutable straight look at the girl in the elegant damask-covered chair. “Quite a lot, in fact!”

  “Not at all, not at all,” the General beamed suddenly, wrenching his eyes away from the window. “Put it all down on the bill ... my bill. We’ll remain here for a few days, and it will give us a chance to sort out our grievances. Eh, my dear?” glancing whimsically at his niece. “Put things back on a proper footing!”

  Toni found there was little she could say to alter or interfere with these arrangements; and now that her uncle—the only living relative close enough to her to have any right to bring pressure on her life—had found her, she felt curiously disinclined to try and assert her independence. She had always been fond of her uncle, and now it was nothing less than a blessed relief to feel that her burdens could be transferred to his shoulders, and that he could make at least one or two decisions for her.

  All at once her independence seemed to have deserted her and she knew she had been badly oppressed by the problem of her future that had been weighing on her in the past few days. She had more or less come to the decision that she could not go on living at the Rosenhorn and looking upon Kurt Antoine as her employer. She knew that in her heart she no longer looked upon him as an employer, and this attitude of mind was dangerous.

  She had to break away from possible complications, and at the same time she had been afraid to break away. She wasn’t very clever at picking jobs for herself, and where would she go?

  The General, at least, had solved that problem for her, and for the time being she would have to consent to be carried along by the stream. There was a wonderful sensation of relief ... and at the same time a secret fear.

  If her uncle carried her away from here in a few days, would she ever see Kurt Antoine again?

  As he let them out at the door, and they passed him on their way to the lift and the suite of rooms the General had ordered to be placed at his disposal, Toni was aware of dark eyes looking down at her with cool, almost cynical detachment, and Antoine said softly to her as she passed:

  “So we are no longer employer and employee, little one. I wonder whether that is a good thing? From your point of view I’m sure it is. You mustn’t forget to thank Mr. Gresham for his interference in your affairs!”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THAT night the General invited Philip Gresham to dine with them at their table, and afterwards it seemed perfe
ctly natural that he should accompany Toni out on to the terrace. They were two young people of the same world with the same mutual friends and background, and it was obvious the General considered he owed a debt of gratitude to Gresham for making it possible for him to run his niece to earth.

  He had an urbane look in his eyes when he nodded consent to Gresham, and watching them leave the lights and colour of the dining-room any onlooker would have decided that they went well together. The tall, fair Englishman and the slender English girl...

  From the table he shared with Marianne, Kurt watched them go, and his eyes narrowed and grew completely inscrutable as he ordered the wine-waiter somewhat tersely to bring him the wine-list.

  Outside on the terrace Philip guided Toni to the flight of steps that led down to the gardens. He grasped her arm firmly as they descended the steps.

  “Well, this is all very satisfactory,” he murmured, while the moonlight cast its magic across them, and the shadows of the garden lay invitingly before them. “I now feel I can relax a bit ... And you can certainly relax! The General will solve all your problems for you now, and you are no longer alone. That, I think, is wonderful!”

  Toni realised that the shadows of the wood were approaching and insisted on taking another path.

  “All the same, I think you should have let me know what you were intending to do before you did it,” she reproached him, a little stiffly. “Family problems are not really the concern of an outsider, and you might have been precipitating a crisis for me by getting in touch with my uncle.”

  “Nonsense,” he said, obviously very well satisfied with himself. “I had a pretty shrewd idea that you and the old boy had quarrelled over your father—oh, yes, I know all about his mountain of debts, and the General’s refusal to do anything about them until he died! But you can’t hold that against the General. He never puts a foot wrong himself, and it’s easy to be critical of others. But he was genuinely upset because you disappeared ... you gave him a bad few months!”