“Tomorrow might be too late.” Nick reached forward and caught Ann’s wrist. “Don’t you realize that? Please, just once more. Then, if it doesn’t work, we’ll give up.”

Ann sat down on the edge of the coffee table facing him. “You’re too tense, Nick. You’re fighting me and I don’t have the experience to get round that.”

“Have you got some tranquilizers or something I could take?”

She laughed. “In this house? Ben would divorce me if I took anything stronger than feverfew tea for my migraine!” She sighed. “Look, I’ll try once more. Sit back, put your feet up, and relax. I’ll go and make that tea we’ve been waiting for and I’ll put a slug of brandy in it. Try to unwind, Nick. Close your eyes. Let your mind go blank.”

She stood looking down at him for a moment, surprised by the sudden surge of almost maternal affection she felt for the man lying so helplessly before her. Quickly she turned away.

She made two cups of tea and poured a double measure of brandy in each, then she carried them back to their chairs.

“There, that should do the trick.” Sitting down opposite him again, she slid the cups onto the coffee table.

“Nick?”

His head had fallen sideways on the patchwork cushion. Gently she touched his hand. There was no response.

With a sigh she took the woven blanket from the sofa and drew it over him, then, after turning down the lamp, she blew out the flame. The room was no longer dark. The still, eerie, predawn light was filtering in between the curtains. She drew one back silently and stood, sipping her tea, looking at the dim, colorless garden and the white cauldron of luminous mist beyond them in the valley. Suddenly she shivered violently.

She turned and looked at Nick.

Whatever devil he was going to have to fight inside himself, she was not going to be able to help him. He and Jo were going to have to face it on their own.

34

With the dawn came rain; heavy, soaking rain from gray clouds drawing their soft bellies over the mountaintops, drenching the thirsty ground. Ben came in from the cows, dressed in a bright yellow sou’wester and cape, as the others were having their breakfast.

Nick was pale and drawn, watching moodily as Jo spooned cereal into the bowls of the two little ones. Feeling his eyes on her, she glanced up. “You look tired,” she said gently.

“I didn’t sleep too well.” He glanced at Ann, presiding over the coffeepot. The room was fragrant with toast and new coffee and the spitting apple logs Ben had thrown into the stove. It seemed very normal and safe.

“Are the kids going down the hill this morning?” Ben hung up his wet oilskins and began to wash his hands.

“I’m running them down in half an hour.” Ann poured her husband his mug of coffee and pushed it over the table toward him. “I take turns with our neighbor at the bottom of the track on Saturday mornings to have each other’s kids,” she explained as she filled up Nick’s cup. “That way every other weekend we can get into Brecon and do a bit of shopping or whatever on our own. Not this morning, though. I’ll just be glad to get them out from under.”

Ben laughed. “She doesn’t mean that. Ten minutes after she gets back she starts to worry about them.”

Ann smiled at him affectionately, then she looked at Jo and Nick. “What would you two like to do this morning?”

“Walk,” Jo put in quickly. “Walk in the rain.”

Ann raised an eyebrow. “That whim I think we can accommodate. And you, sir?” She turned to Nick.

“Why not? Some fresh air will do me good, and we don’t want to get under your feet either.”

“You’re not!” Ann said sharply.

There was an awkward silence. Abruptly she pulled Bill off his chair and began to bundle him into his anorak, ignoring his vigorous protests that his mouth was still full and he hadn’t finished. “Are you sure one of you wouldn’t rather come down with me?” She glanced from Jo to Nick and back. “You can’t both want to go out in the rain.” She saw Jo’s knuckles whiten for a moment on the corner of the table.

“I think there are things Nick and I should talk about,” Jo said after a moment. She bit her lip. “We’ll be all right. We won’t go far.”

Ann was watching Nick’s face again and she saw the tiny movement of the muscles at the corner of his jaw. She sighed. “Right. Well, help yourselves to mackintoshes or whatever on the door there, and when you get back we’ll have coffee and cakes, okay?”

“And for Christ’s sake, don’t get lost!” Ben put in. “This is a real mountain, not Hyde Park. Stay within sight of the wall. It will lead on down the hill for about three miles if you want a decent walk and then bring you back past all the best views.” He cocked an eye out of the window at the uniformly gray murk of the low cloud and gave his rumbling laugh. “See you when you get back.”

The mist was cold and wet on their faces when they stepped out into the silent white world. Jo put her hands firmly in the pockets of her mac. “I’d forgotten what it was to feel cold. It’s hard to believe the weather can change so much after last night.”

“It’s the cloud.” Nick pulled up the collar of his jacket. “It’s probably bright sunshine down in the valley.”

Ten paces behind them the farmhouse was already barely in sight, dissolving and drifting, its gray slates and white walls the perfect blend of mist and cloud.

Jo stopped. “Where is the wall?”

“Here. Beside us. Ben was right, it would be easy to get lost.” Nick touched her elbow, guiding her a little to the left.

Jo moved slightly away from him. Her heart had begun to beat in a quick, uneasy rhythm. She glanced back. The farmhouse had gone; they were completely alone.

She pushed her hands further into her pockets. “How did the trip to the States go? You haven’t told me yet.”

Nick was walking a couple of paces behind her, his eyes on her slim figure in the tightly belted raincoat and black rubber boots. Somewhere deep inside himself he felt a sudden awakening of anger.

She turned, pulling off the blue scarf Ann had lent her and shaking her hair free. “Do you think you’ll get the new account? What is it, Nick?” She had seen it at once in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head desperately. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. I didn’t sleep, that’s all. Yes, I think there’s a good chance. I’m flying a team out to New York next week to discuss things with the marketing director out there; then, if all goes well, we’ll take over the launch of their product in the UK early next year.” He stopped and picked up a loose stone from the ground beneath the wall, hurling it into the whiteness. “If we get the account I’ll be taking on new staff because it looks as though Desco has had a change of heart.”

“Oh, Nick, I am pleased.” Unobtrusively Jo put several feet more between him and herself. “I knew it was just a temporary hiccup.”

Nick gave a strained laugh. “Firms larger than mine have gone under through losing one account.” He did not look at her. “Jo, I didn’t come up here to discuss the problems or otherwise of Franklyn-Greerson.”

“No.” Jo glanced across at him. Now that the moment had come she didn’t know what to say. She clenched her fists, aching to touch him and yet not daring to move. In anguish she turned away. “What do you think of the Clementses, Nick?” she asked softly.

“I like them.” He grimaced. “And I think we need them. Dear God, we need someone.”

Jo frowned. She could see the faint outline of a group of trees near them now and hear the distant bleating of a sheep. Below on the hillside the mist was graying but above their heads it seemed brighter and there was a hint of glare in the air. She tensed suddenly, realizing that Nick was standing beside her again.

“Listen, Jo-”

“No, please, Nick.” She backed away. “Please-don’t touch me-”

“Don’t touch you!” His anger overflowed suddenly. “Always the same! You sleep with my brother, but I must not touch you!”

He reached out toward her, but she edged away from him, her boots slipping on the wet, muddy grass.

“I haven’t slept with your brother! That’s a lie!”

“How do you know?” Nick’s voice was dangerously quiet.

She stared at him in horror. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, he hypnotized you. He told me all about it, Jo. William de Braose-my brother! How strange that he should choose to be a man like that!”

“Perhaps he had no choice,” Jo cried.

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Or perhaps that identity gives him all the chances he wants to screw Matilda and by proxy her latter-day descendant!”

“He didn’t-” She backed away from him until she felt the rough stones of the wall against her back. “He…he wanted to, but he couldn’t manage it-”

“So he beat you instead? And I gather you thought you deserved it. Perhaps you even enjoyed it?”

“No, I damn well didn’t!” Jo exploded. “If I ever set eyes on your brother again I’ll kill him with my bare hands. He’s a sadistic, twisted psychopath!”

Nick laughed coldly. “But you have to admit he had a point. You were unfaithful to your husband.”

“You of all people should know about that,” she retorted defiantly.

He smiled, his eyes hard. “I remember only one occasion,” he said slowly, “when you lay with your prince.”

“I was raped by my prince,” Jo said forcibly. “He nearly killed me!”

“He loved you, Jo, but you made him angry. You kept on making him angry-”

“Not me ,” Jo cried wildly. “It wasn’t me , Nick! And what Matilda did was none of your business. Nor Sam’s. Nor even mine, perhaps! Oh, God, this whole thing is a nightmare!” She pushed at him desperately. “Let me pass, please. I want to go back to the house.”

Nick did not move. He caught her wrist and, forcing her arm backward, held it pressed for a moment on the top of the wall. Lichen streaked the white sleeve of the raincoat.