relieved that she no longer need play a major role in the business. It was rather
pleasant to sit back and let someone else do the worrying and fussing over the comfort of their guests, and be able to remain a nonentity in the background.
With these thoughts in mind, she was a little nonplussed when Mark strode into the office a few minutes later accompanied by an elderly, plump man, to whom Mark blithely introduced her with a, 'This is Jenny Grange, Silas,' and turning to Jenny, added blandly, `Mr Hawter insisted on meeting you at the earliest opportunity.'
Jenny shook hands with Silas Hawter, and tried hard to look impersonal about it. It was an effort not to snub him, for this was the man who had helped Mark engineer the acquisition of the hotel. That Mark Chanter had had the effrontery to carry out the introduction did not surprise her one bit, but she did wonder why he had bothered.
`A pleasure to meet you,' enthused Mr Hawter, and Jenny fervently wished she could say the same, but in all honesty she could not, but just listened as the jolly, plump man rambled on with the same enthusiasm. 'Mark said you were special—and I can see why,' he remarked as his homely face broke into a wide smile.
Jenny's features froze on this comment, and her furious eyes met Mark's bland ones. 'I'm flattered by Mr Chanter's remarks,' she bit out furiously, unable to remain impersonal any longer. 'And I'm sure he feels the same way about the rest of the staff,' she added waspishly, and coloured as Mark broke in with a swift, 'Now I wouldn't go as far as
to say that,' reply, accompanied by a wicked grin.
When Jenny had managed to disentangle her hand from Mr Hawter's firm shake, she saw with no little consternation a look pass from him to Mark, a look that had conspiracy written all over it, and she longed to shout at them that she hoped they were satisfied with themselves at the way they had hoodwinked her into selling Peacock's Walk to Chanter Enterprises. With a supreme effort she managed to hold her peace. The thing was done now, and no amount of hoping would alter the situation, and the thought of the older staff helped her to reply to Silas Hawter's unexpected invitation to her to join him at dinner that evening, and while she was tempted to find an excuse, the apologetic look he sent Mark as he made the request made Jenny accept without hesitation, if only to show him that her private life was no concern of Mark Chanter's. Whatever delusions Silas Hawter was suffering from regarding the exact relationship between her and Mark would soon be put to rights after a little chat over the dinner table.
A little before eight that evening, Jenny made her way to the hotel restaurant for her dinner date with Silas Hawter. Wearing an off-the-shoulder green velvet gown that highlighted her fair hair and brought out the green lights in her eyes, she threaded her way past the other diners, towards the table at the end of the room that had been reserved for her host.
It was with no little appreciation that she observed the frankly admiring looks she received from
the occupants of the other tables. She had wanted to look her best and had gone to some pains to achieve the resultant effect, and now felt quite justified for her trouble. It was not often that Jenny bothered to dress up for any occasion. In fact, not since Mark had gone out of her life, and this had not been for any other reason than for a wish to remain in the background as much as possible, and not, as Tony and the rest of the staff had thought at that time, because Mark had jilted her.
As she passed the table next to the one she was heading for, she met Mark's mocking eyes with a glint of defiance in hers, and she didn't know why she should choose this particular time to remember that he had not liked her hair twisted up on top of her head as she had chosen to style it that evening, but she was extremely grateful that she had just happened to put it up, more from a
pleasant to sit back and let someone else do the worrying and fussing over the comfort of their guests, and be able to remain a nonentity in the background.
With these thoughts in mind, she was a little nonplussed when Mark strode into the office a few minutes later accompanied by an elderly, plump man, to whom Mark blithely introduced her with a, 'This is Jenny Grange, Silas,' and turning to Jenny, added blandly, `Mr Hawter insisted on meeting you at the earliest opportunity.'
Jenny shook hands with Silas Hawter, and tried hard to look impersonal about it. It was an effort not to snub him, for this was the man who had helped Mark engineer the acquisition of the hotel. That Mark Chanter had had the effrontery to carry out the introduction did not surprise her one bit, but she did wonder why he had bothered.
`A pleasure to meet you,' enthused Mr Hawter, and Jenny fervently wished she could say the same, but in all honesty she could not, but just listened as the jolly, plump man rambled on with the same enthusiasm. 'Mark said you were special—and I can see why,' he remarked as his homely face broke into a wide smile.
Jenny's features froze on this comment, and her furious eyes met Mark's bland ones. 'I'm flattered by Mr Chanter's remarks,' she bit out furiously, unable to remain impersonal any longer. 'And I'm sure he feels the same way about the rest of the staff,' she added waspishly, and coloured as Mark broke in with a swift, 'Now I wouldn't go as far as
to say that,' reply, accompanied by a wicked grin.
When Jenny had managed to disentangle her hand from Mr Hawter's firm shake, she saw with no little consternation a look pass from him to Mark, a look that had conspiracy written all over it, and she longed to shout at them that she hoped they were satisfied with themselves at the way they had hoodwinked her into selling Peacock's Walk to Chanter Enterprises. With a supreme effort she managed to hold her peace. The thing was done now, and no amount of hoping would alter the situation, and the thought of the older staff helped her to reply to Silas Hawter's unexpected invitation to her to join him at dinner that evening, and while she was tempted to find an excuse, the apologetic look he sent Mark as he made the request made Jenny accept without hesitation, if only to show him that her private life was no concern of Mark Chanter's. Whatever delusions Silas Hawter was suffering from regarding the exact relationship between her and Mark would soon be put to rights after a little chat over the dinner table.
A little before eight that evening, Jenny made her way to the hotel restaurant for her dinner date with Silas Hawter. Wearing an off-the-shoulder green velvet gown that highlighted her fair hair and brought out the green lights in her eyes, she threaded her way past the other diners, towards the table at the end of the room that had been reserved for her host.
It was with no little appreciation that she observed the frankly admiring looks she received from
the occupants of the other tables. She had wanted to look her best and had gone to some pains to achieve the resultant effect, and now felt quite justified for her trouble. It was not often that Jenny bothered to dress up for any occasion. In fact, not since Mark had gone out of her life, and this had not been for any other reason than for a wish to remain in the background as much as possible, and not, as Tony and the rest of the staff had thought at that time, because Mark had jilted her.
As she passed the table next to the one she was heading for, she met Mark's mocking eyes with a glint of defiance in hers, and she didn't know why she should choose this particular time to remember that he had not liked her hair twisted up on top of her head as she had chosen to style it that evening, but she was extremely grateful that she had just happened to put it up, more from a
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