A Cornish Girl

by Gloria Cook

  ‘But this is outrageous negligence,’ Michael seethed, gently tugging out the scissors and watching in horror as a fat trickle of blood further wetted Joshua’s nightshirt. ‘Of course the nurse must go. This can’t be kept a secret, your nightshirt is slashed and there’s blood on it and the sheet. I’ll fetch Tara. She should deal with this.’

  ‘No! It wasn’t the nurse’s fault.’ Joshua gripped Michael by the shoulders and burst into a drench of tears. ‘I stole the scissors from the nurse to kill myself. I was about to cut my wrists when you came in.’

  Michael was so shocked he thrust Joshua away from him to flop down on the bed. ‘Suicide? You were about to bring shame on the Nankervis name? Damn you, damn you, Joshua.’ Standing back from the bed he was appalled by his brother’s blubbering but he couldn’t stay entirely angry. ‘Are things so very bad?’

  It was an effort for Joshua to bring himself under control. He gulped on enormous sobs and Michael proffered his handkerchief. ‘I’m living in hell, Michael. L-Laketon has taken everything from me. Death is my only way out.’ An unquiet desperation gave him the strength to sit up and plead with his hands. ‘Don’t hate me, Michael. Leave me alone so I can do what I want and find my peace. Think about it, Michael. My death will benefit you. You’ll be the squire. You’re the only one who’s ever really loved this house. You deserve to have it. You’ll be able to move your daughters in and bring your bride here as mistress. Tara hates Poltraze. She’ll be relieved to get away. She can find a husband who will be a real husband to her. And Laketon will have no sway here any longer. It’s the best thing for all of us, Michael, you must see that. Help me, please! If you’ve got one scrap of decency in your body, don’t let me go on like this.’

  One moment Michael was shrinking back in horror at the suggestion, the next he was edging forward as he found himself agreeing with it. Back and forth he went, but he ended up almost at the door. He had no brotherly bond with Joshua but he did not want him dead, and he couldn’t possibly help him to commit suicide. ‘There’s got to be some other way. I mean, you could simply sign Poltraze over to me.’

  ‘Then Laketon would kill me, as slowly and as painfully as he knows how. I don’t want to leave this earth by his evil hands.’

  Michael’s head spun with a rush of thoughts and tension took him in an unnerving grip. After years of methodically easing himself through a selfish life he had never before had to consider anything so vital and dreadful. Putting up his hands for silence he went back to the bedside and sat down, feeling as if all his breath had been knocked out of him.

  Weakness overtook Joshua and he fell back on the pillows. ‘I haven’t really thought about how you’ve suffered,’ said Michael. ‘I can understand how you feel you have nothing to live for with Kivell controlling your every second. It isn’t you who should die, Joshua, it’s him. We must think of a way to push him out, or better still be rid of him forever.’

  ‘Kill him or have him killed? It’s impossible. I’ve gone over everything I can think of to do just that. He seems to be aware of everything that goes on here. Anything we try could bring us into danger. He might hurt your children. It’s hopeless for me, Michael. I can’t stand another day here, the memories are too terrible. Listen, please, I agree my suicide would bring disgrace to Poltraze and make it difficult for you. I could have an accident of some kind that would be classed as a tragedy. Help me to arrange something, a fall from a window; that would be easy. No chance of survival to mess things up.’

  Michael shook his head. ‘I don’t know how you can discuss your death so coolly. Don’t you dare jump from a window; your dying the same way as Hobbs would lead to speculation. It would cause a scandal. I need time to think this all through, to come up with a way to get us out of this bloody awful situation. Grin and bear it until then, promise me, Joshua?’

  With fresh painful tears, Joshua closed his eyes and nodded. ‘What about the scissors?’

  ‘The nurse can take the blame for that. Kivell need never know, or Tara. We’ll tell the woman we’ll hush it up this time because her services are valued.’

  After giving the nurse a furious dressing-down, Michael went straight down to the library. ‘Adeline, my dear, leave that. I suddenly feel stuffy in the house. Let’s get away from the noise and take a little fresh air. It’s a dry day. We’ll take Cecily and Jemima for a ride in the carriage. Rosa Grace can join us.’ The suggestion that Laketon Kivell might seek revenge on his children if Joshua signed Poltraze over to him had made Michael for the very first instance want to spend some time with all three of his daughters.

  Jowan was fully occupied in fitting a new wall panel in the morning room but his mind was on Sarah. Most days he saw her but he wanted to pass more than a few friendly words with her. She didn’t look right in these grand surroundings. She didn’t belong here with these people. Sarah should be mistress of her own household. She would be perfect for Chy-Henver. He was a little younger than her but he could give her everything she’d ever want, he would give her all the love and respect she deserved. She could never have children; it would be a hard sacrifice but one he’d willingly make for her. She haunted him, not just because she was so lovely but for her pride, dignity and strengths that had seen her through so many ordeals. Her touching vulnerability appealed to him as no other woman’s could. She wasn’t greedy nor did she flaunt her new position. Sarah was simply who she was and would never change. He wouldn’t leave here today until he’d got the chance to invite her formally to a meal at Chy-Henver.

  Leaving Tara with her angry brother-in-law, Sarah went to the morning room. She knew from before the work had started that Michael Nankervis demanded hush while in the library; if he objected to the inevitable sounds of Jowan at work that was ridiculous. The morning room was at the other end of the house anyway, and how could someone work without making a sound? It was a strange world that was occupied by the gentry and their servants. The former made unreasonable demands and complaints and the latter genuinely grovelled to do their bidding as if their masters were gods.

  She found Jowan standing on a dust sheet sizing up his handiwork. ‘How are you getting on?’

  ‘Sarah!’ His dark eyes sparkled like gems at seeing her. ‘That’s the last panel, there’s only the oak to treat to produce the same colour and the decorative moulding to put back in place. Dismal sort of place here, like everyone says it is, don’t you think? I wouldn’t like to live here. You seem content, but are you really?’

  ‘In a way it’s easier here for me than those born to the life. I don’t have the same expectations and the only role I need to play is Tara’s companion. How are things in the village? I confess I’ve lost touch with what’s going on there.’

  ‘Things are really grim. Mrs Nankervis’s generosity at Christmas was a help but there’s a lot of hungry bellies, among the mining folk in particular. People are dying from the usual round of fevers and diseases. Grandmama tried to help but some people were too proud and turned her down. Some will be able to call on poor relief but there will be no help for others.’

  ‘I should do something more for them than just sitting comfortably and sewing. I could make some simple gestures without it seeming too much like charity. I could leave things on doorsteps and hope it will be seen as a gift from God. It’s what people like Jeb Greep would believe.’

  ‘When you are in the village you must come to Chy-Henver, have a meal with us. Rachel misses the women’s chats she had with you. We all miss you.’

  ‘I’ll do that. I like being there, thinking about the old days when Amy was there. She’s been gone for two years now. She and Sol must be coming back soon. A letter is on the way to tell her I’m living here now. I hope she’s not moved on from the New Territories and doesn’t get it.’

  Jowan became serious. ‘Sarah …’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Grandmama Tempest has had a letter from Sol, she’s deeply upset. You and Mrs Nankervis should be hearing from Amy yourselves soon.
The thing is …’ He edged closer to Sarah, how was she going to take the news?

  She was beginning to worry. ‘What, Jowan? What are you trying to say?’

  ‘Sol and Amy are having another baby, and the thing is they’ve decided to live in America for good, in California. They like the vast beautiful land there. A man can own thousands of acres. Sol’s going to build his own ranch and take up farming. They’re not coming back, Sarah. Thad and I are going to buy the carpentry business from them.’

  ‘You mean I’ll never see Amy again?’ Sarah walked away in a daze. ‘But I’ve dreamt about her returning home. It was the one thing that kept me going when I lived with Tabbie.’

  Jowan went up behind her. Now was the time to tell her of his feelings. The nerves in his stomach started up a wild dance and sweat pricked his neck. ‘Y-you have the rest of us, Sarah. You have me. You need never be lonely or fear homelessness again. If you ever want to leave this life at Poltraze you can go to Burnt Oak or to Kit’s house, or – or to me, Sarah.’

  Sarah stayed put. This was awful. She had heard Jowan’s admiration and desire for her in his nervous husky tone. She’d had no idea that sort of thing was going through his mind, and it could never be. This man had been her stepson and now he was her friend. She could offer him nothing else. She turned round slowly. ‘I’m sorry, Jowan. I’m sure you’ll understand why.’

  Jowan knew at once he had made a tremendous mistake and it could have been much worse. Sarah could have been horrified and offended by his declaration. How could he ever have contemplated she would consider tying herself to a son of a man who had virtually torn her heart out? His cheeks burned with shame. ‘No, I’m sorry. I’ve been a fool. Please forgive me.’

  She owed him so much and thought only of his feelings. ‘Can we forget this ever happened? Go on as before?’

  ‘Yes. Thank you. I’ll just get on with my work.’ He was grateful to Sarah for being kind. Thank God he would be finished here today. The moment he was alone in the room he pressed a hand to his eyes to prevent tears. It would never do for a Kivell male to cry but how he wanted to. He was in love with Sarah more than he’d realized. No woman could ever match her. He knew now the kind of raw loneliness she had experienced.

  Sarah dragged her feet back to the winter parlour. Poor Jowan, she hoped he’d soon get over her. Amy was starting yet another new adventure in her life, leaving her and Tara behind as increasingly sad characters in comparison. A truly satisfying life seemed set on passing them by. The only thing life ever threw at them was more complications.

  Sixteen

  Kit was getting a lesson in botany. Inside one of the hothouses Laketon was pointing out his new collection of orchids. ‘These have been brought over from the southeast of Asia. There’s a great many species but I’m sure you don’t want to be bored with their Latin names. They will flower at various times from spring to autumn.’

  ‘I have much to look forward to,’ Kit said, making mental notes. He wanted such treasures in his own gardens. He particularly liked the red-brick walled garden. Its contents unspoiled by Laketon’s dark deed, it was of considerable size; its sheltered effect created a microclimate and it had over one hundred species, including fruit trees, herb bushes and climbers. Liatris grew over a row of arches. What a blaze of colour there would be when everything was in bloom. There were quiet nooks and secluded benches, weathered statues and a magnificent sundial. It was a perfect place to meet for an assignation. He would settle for a stroll inside with Tara Nankervis; she was quite friendly these days. She seemed delighted that he had spoken to her daughter. He took a good look around the hothouse. ‘So you would recommend tinted glass in the structure, Laketon?’

  ‘Every time, it tempers the scorching effect of the sun, Kit. I hope you will allow me to assist you when you are ready to start the landscaping of your gardens.’

  Laketon turned his full attention on his distant cousin. What a magnificent beast he was. Such a pity he preferred women. Could he be coaxed to try something different? No, he knew exactly what he was and at this moment he wanted Tara Nankervis. But as Kit seemed not to care that he had opposing tastes, he might agree to some diverting company in the establishments where both genders’ appetites were catered for. Joshua would be of no use to him in that department again, he’d respond only with fear. Let his wife namby-pamby him, it was all he deserved, to be treated as a needy child. Tara Nankervis was to stay on in Truro after the numbskull Michael Nankervis’s wedding. She could take Joshua with her, keep him there indefinitely, and then he’d have free rein here with no one to prevent his will being obeyed. Michael Nankervis was getting smug; he would, no doubt, give him notice. Laketon would ignore it. Michael would never stand up to him; he didn’t have the guts.

  ‘I shall be delighted to call on your expertise. I hope the squire won’t become anxious that I’ll poach you away.’ Kit, as always, watched the other man for telltale signs of rancour or suspicion. ‘It’s good he is well enough to come downstairs now. It’s a pity he feels he won’t be able to attend his brother’s wedding.’ Unfortunately, the squire spent a lot of time with Tara, denying Kit the chance to get to know her better, and her him. Joshua Nankervis was a singularly tiresome, pathetic individual. Like an infant he sought comfort from his wife, and Sarah too, and both women were quick to attend to his demands. Michael Nankervis had taken to sitting in with them too; he made a point of scowling at Kit. The brothers had closed ranks against Laketon. What could they do against him, hunched up like rabbits caught in a trap? It was pitiable.

  ‘Mr Nankervis is a very generous man, Kit. I’m sure he’d be willing to loan my expertise to you,’ Laketon answered as if his position amounted to no more than head gardener. Then he gazed at Kit. ‘Sadly, the squire will never be the man he once was, can’t see him ever being up to socializing again. I understand you’re quite a card shark, Kit. I know a place where a game could be played, with the right sort of entertainment thrown in afterward, if you get my meaning?’

  ‘I do indeed, Laketon. I shall be happy to visit it. Yes, the squire is too frail for junketing, it can’t have been much fun for you lately, but then he hasn’t got Kivell blood in his veins. Kivells have one thing in common, to know how to live life to the full.’ Kit laughed uproariously and Laketon followed suit. Had he fooled Laketon that he had an ally? He was seeking out Laketon’s weaknesses and that was more easily attained when a man was well gone in drink.

  ‘I’ll arrange something,’ Laketon said. Then he eyed the delicate growth of his orchids, eager to get back to them.

  ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll slip inside in the hope that the delightful Mrs Nankervis will offer me some refreshment.’ Kit had tolerated enough the other’s dull and sinister company.

  ‘Of course, good day to you, Kit.’

  Kit hoped to win a smile from Tara. Rosa Grace formed an easy topic of conversation but progress with Tara was hard. Sarah engaged him a lot, and then there were the two maudlin Nankervis brothers, tied to their chairs and bringing down the ambience. He would, however, forgo the pleasure of seeing Tara for a while. He concealed himself behind the nearest hedge to keep watch on the hothouse. He wasn’t disappointed. The footman, Hankins, was approaching. Kit had noticed the young man in the vicinity of Laketon Kivell once before. He watched as Hankins went into the hothouse, clearly nervous, so Kit assumed, of the service he was about to provide for his superior. Laketon didn’t seem pleased to see him but inclined his ear. Kit couldn’t make out what was being said but he understood the situation: Hankins was supplying information, no wonder Laketon knew about everything that went on in the house. Moments later Laketon tossed Hankins a penny and waved a hand to dismiss him.

  Kit moved off some distance then waylaid the footman in a quiet leafy spot at the back of the house. ‘Hankins, I wish to speak to you.’ Each of his words was like a thud and at each one Hankins blinked in alarm.

  ‘I-I’m sorry, sir. I can’t stop. I have to get back to my duties.
Mr Fawcett will be after my blood if I’m late to help serve afternoon tea.’

  ‘And I’ll have your blood if you don’t do exactly what I say from now on. Don’t look so worried. I’m not nearly as ruthless as the man you’ve just offloaded information to. What I intend to do will benefit the whole of Poltraze and if you play your part well it will set you up here nicely for the future.’ Kit produced a florin and the servant’s fear abated with a greedy lick of the lips. ‘This won’t take long if you cooperate.’

  Michael was in the library with a book open in his hand, standing beside the library ladder he had just descended, without a clue why he had chosen this particular volume or what it was he had wanted to look up. He couldn’t keep his mind on anything except Joshua’s wish to die. ‘I’ve got a very good idea,’ Joshua had said quite calmly, and even looking rather bright, during his next time up to his room. ‘It’s foolproof.’

  ‘What do you mean? You can’t still be considering ending your life?’ The more Michael thought about actually helping Joshua do what he wanted, the more he felt sick. And scared, scared of Laketon Kivell yes, but also he felt that a legion of disapproving angels was watching over him to see if he’d take part. Any manner of things could go wrong with such a dire scheme, and then there would be Kivell out for revenge and the authorities to answer to. He would not be elevated to grieving squire if he was dead or locked up in jail.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about nothing else. It’s the only thing that’s keeping me from despair or madness.’

  Michael had brought his hands up to his ears. ‘I won’t listen to you. I shall leave the room. I’ll give you my support in anything but that.’

  ‘Hear me out!’ Joshua hissed, clutching his brother’s coat. ‘I haven’t got long. As soon as Laketon considers I’m well enough to go to his cottage, goodness knows what will happen to me. You’ve got no choice, Michael. You must help me. It would be too cruel of you to let me suffer for years and years ahead.’