Unknown Read Online Free PDF Page A

wonderful view. On either side of the estuary were grass-topped headlands. The Fairhaven side was rather steeper than the Poldean cliffs, but both were worth looking at. The rather dull grey of the rock was broken at intervals with patches of colourful lichens and the brilliant blue of the sky was reflected in the gently lapping water. Little boats bobbed at anchor and gulls swooped and glided as if they were thoroughly enjoying themselves.
    Fenella loved it all just as she loved the little village that staggered so crazily down hill. It was all part of home. Part of Anthony, too.
    But now she was so deep in thought that she hardly noticed her surroundings or the few men who were at work and who, more than once, gave a half curious, half apprehensive glance in her direction.
    Rosemary was the girl whom Anthony had loved and who had jilted him.
    Rosemary was coming back to Fairhaven—and she was free because her husband had died.
    It explained everything. Why Anthony had taken so little interest in women—including Fenella herself—all these years, and why now, quite suddenly, he had announced that it was high time he got married. It all added up to one thing and one thing only. Despite the way in which she had treated him, Anthony had never ceased to love Rosemary and never would.
    Yes, that made sense, though only, she began to realise, up to a point. It didn’t explain why Anthony had bothered to make such an announcement as he had done this morning at breakfast, nor why he should have fallen in so willingly if not exactly enthusiastically with her suggestion that they should have a garden party.
    After all, in the natural course of events, he and Rosemary would have been bound to meet, for, quite apart from the old friendship between the two families, Fairhaven wasn’t a very big place. You simply wouldn’t be able to help meeting people. So why—?
    The answer came only very slowly, but when at last it did come, she was convinced that it was the right one.
    Anthony had heard that Rosemary and her family were returning to Fairhaven, and for the first time heard also that Rosemary was a widow. As a result, his entire outlook had changed.
    Fenella knew that she had spoken nothing but the truth when she had told Miss Prosser that whatever the past might have held, Anthony was not the sort of man to run after a married woman.
    She knew, too, that there had been a lot of speculation, led by Miss Prosser, as to the possibility of a romance between herself and Anthony. And Anthony must have been equally well aware of it. Not that either of them had ever referred to the matter to one another. They just ignored it. Or rather, Anthony had, and Fenella had been quite sure that she had given every indication of doing the same thing.
    But suppose she hadn’t been as convincing as she had believed? Supposing Anthony had guessed the secret she had so jealously guarded?
    So long as he had believed that Rosemary had gone out of his life for ever, he would probably feel that since what Fenella felt for him was unlikely to be anything more than calf-love—something which in time would die of its own volition, then the less said or done about it the better.
    But now! Once he had lost the girl he loved. Now he was being given a second chance. Not very strange if he made up his mind that nothing, so far as he was able to control events, should imperil that chance. And what was more likely to do just that than having a possessive, lovelorn little idiot always hanging round him?
    In her bitter humiliation, Fenella lashed furiously at her love. Obviously, Anthony had known all about it and had been embarrassed by it. And that was another thing which confirmed her new understanding. Knowing it, he had also known that it would be a shock to her to realise that not only had he never thought of her in that way, but that he planned to marry someone else.
    So he had made all that quite clear without actually putting it into so many words, but in