wanda1969

Rebecca- Chapter 4 (part 2 of 3)

The next day Jack had business in London and he’d set out at the crack of dawn, leaving the younger man to brood alone on the previous night’s events. His only company was Myfanwy lying on the couch next to him, head in his lap.

“Happiness is something I know so little about...”

He and Jack had known each other for, what, two months now, and Ianto had thought they had been happy. They had laughed together, talked, made love. He had thought that despite the shortness of their engagement, and their relationship, he and Jack would learn so much more about each other. He wiped at his eyes- tears were threatening to fall. Since their first day at Manderley, all of this had changed, his expectations dashed- Jack seemed closed off to him, more distanced daily. Rebecca was still here, in this house. Like the servants she mocked him. You’re not good enough for Jack, you’ll never truly own him, or Manderley, as I did...

He got to his feet, careful not to disturb Myfanwy, and opened the French windows for some fresh air- he needed air.

As he looked across the gardens he could see the West Wing and the balcony of Rebecca’s room. Ianto looked more closely- the window was open, the fine organza curtains blowing in the breeze. There was a figure he couldn’t quite make out standing there, a man he thought, amid the billowing cloth. Before he could look more closely, the figure leaned forward, pushed the curtains to one side, and closed the window shut. There was a knock at the door and he wiped again at his eyes, as Emily, one of the maids, entered.

“Hello, Emily.” He said, composing himself, making his voice even.

“Hello, Sir. I’ve brought your coffee.”

“Thank you, Emily...” he paused, and then said more determinedly, “The West Wing...no one uses it now do they?”

“No, Sir...not since Mrs Harkness died...No, Sir.”

“That’ll be all, Emily.”

Emily all but fled from the room. Ianto had noticed her embarrassment as she’d said “...not since Mrs Harkness died...” He waited until she’d been gone a few minutes and gently pushed Myfanwy’s head from his knees, careful not to wake her. He crept into the hall way. Manderley had so many, many rooms, yet he felt like a weekend guest in the large house- only permitted to see so much of it. In the few weeks he’d been here, there were only certain rooms that he and Jack had used: the Library, the Breakfast Room, the Morning Room, their bedroom, their bathroom....He headed to the door and opened it, determined to shake off this feeling, this feeling of being a guest in what should have been his house- his and Jack’s house.

He stopped short in the doorway as he heard an unfamiliar male voice.

“...Gwennie, I can’t thank you enough. I was so pleased when I got your call...”

“It’s no problem at all, Mr Hart.” It was Mrs Cooper’s voice, but there was an underlying giggle, a warmness, in it he’d never heard before. “Mr Harkness is away in London. He’ll never know you called. Now come along Mr Hart, before anyone sees you.”

“Thank you, again. I’d best be going before we come across the other ‘Mr’ Harkness- really what was he thinking...?”

“I’m not sure he was thinking at all, Sir.” There it was, yet again- that mocking tone in Mrs Cooper’s voice.

“It’s been just wonderful to catch up on all the news and see Manderley again

Ianto closed the door carefully, silently. He could still hear the pair talking.

“Well, I’ll take the back door out then, Gwennie- through the garden. Don’t want to come across Prince Charming now, do we?”

Another laugh. “Of course not, Mr Hart.”

Ianto leant back against the closed door, trying to process the conversation he’d just heard, and he closed his eyes for a moment. Just a moment, because the next thing he heard was the male voice, closer this time: “Well, well, well...”

He opened his eyes and found ‘Mr Hart’ outside the open window.

“So...you must be the new Mr Harkness, eh?”

Ianto found himself unable to respond with anything other than “yeah...”

“So how is dear old Jack? I hear he’s gone up to London?” the man said as he stepped through the open French doors.

“Young...handsome...If I were Jack, I wouldn’t leave you on your own so soon after the wedding. I’d be scared that some young parlour maid- or some young footman- would steal you away.”

“Oh,” was all that Ianto could manage. ‘Mr Hart’ was confident and suave, in an obvious kind of way and he would have been quite good-looking, if his arrogance hadn’t been so off-putting.

“I just called round to see Gwennie...I mean, Mrs Cooper. We’re old friends. Well, when I say old friends, I mean I was a good friend of Rebecca’s.”

Ianto failed to respond again, but Myfanwy had woken from her nap on the sofa and jumped down and bounded over to the man.

“Myfanwy,” he said leaning down to rub behind the spaniel’s ears. “It’s nice to see I still get a warm welcome from someone around here.”

The Welshman felt a presence behind him and turned quickly, to find that Mrs Cooper was standing directly behind him stony faced. She’d entered the room so quietly he hadn’t even heard the door creak open.

“Ah, Mrs Cooper...it seems that your precautions were in vain. I found the new Mr Harkness here skulking behind the door. Anyway, Gwennie- how about a proper introduction?”

“Yes, Sir. Mr John Hart- this is Mr Ianto Harkness.” Any warmth that Ianto had heard in her voice only a few minutes ago was gone.

“How do you do?” John Hart said with what could only be described as a smirk, and reached out to shake Ianto’s hand.

“How do you do, Mr Hart?” From the corner of his eye, Ianto could see an uncomfortable look on Mrs Cooper’s face.

“Well, I guess I should be on my way. Pity, really, when we were just getting along so nicely. Good bye, it was nice meeting you,” he said with a wink, turning to leave.

As an afterthought, he turned back, and fixed Ianto with what Ianto supposed was Hart’s most charming grin. “By the way, perhaps it might be best if you didn’t tell dear old Jack that you’d seen me. He doesn’t really approve of me.”

“Ok...I won’t mention it...”

“That’s very sporting of you, Ianto. I can see why Jack likes you,” he said heading back to the windows and onto the terrace. Again he turned. “And Gwennie, I know what was wrong with that introduction. You forgot to say I was Rebecca’s favourite cousin. Well,” he glanced at his wristwatch, “It’s getting late. I’d best be making a move. See you around, Ianto!”

And with that John Hart was gone. Ianto turned, only to find that Mrs Cooper had also gone, as quietly as she had arrived. He slumped back onto the sofa. Would he ever feel at home here, as if he belonged here? As if he shouldn’t be hiding away in his own home?

***

Chapter List: http://wanda1969.dreamwidth.org/17042.html