Morwennan House

by Morwennan House (retail) (epub)

  Why, I did not even know for certain that Julia was my mother. But on one thing I was more determined than ever. Somehow I would find out the truth, no matter what it cost me. And when I did I would make both Selena and Francis very sorry indeed for all the misery they had inflicted.

  * * *

  A tap at the door interrupted my reverie. I pulled myself together, smoothed my hair away from my face and, expecting it to be Charlotte, called out: ‘Come in, sweeting!’

  The door remained firmly closed, the only response another tap. Puzzled, I crossed the room and opened the door to find Mrs Durbin standing there.

  ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Charity,’ she said in her soft Cornish burr. ‘Only Mr Francis wants to speak to you – right away. You’ll find him in his study.’

  I frowned. Apart from the evening meals we had shared I had seen little of Francis during my time at Morwennan. He had been out a good deal on business – running a smuggling ring as complex as this one must involve a good deal of liaison with contacts further down the line, I imagined – and when he was at home he was mostly closeted in his study, where, presumably, he worked on a mass of accounts and records. It had also occurred to me to wonder if he might be avoiding me. It must be disturbing for him to have someone who looked so like his wife in her prime living under his roof, and even more disturbing if he believed that I was her daughter.

  Now, however, he was actually asking for me, and in a rather formal way. Did his reason for wanting to see me have any connection with my conversation with Selena? Had he decided he no longer wanted me here and was about to dismiss me? If so it would be a blow indeed.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Durbin,’ I said. ‘Please tell Mr Francis I will be with him in just a moment.’

  She nodded and once again I noticed the warmth and sympathy in her faded eyes. As yet no opportunity had arisen to further the friendship I had hoped might blossom between us but Mrs Durbin was the one person in Morwennan House who was not hostile to me, and I thought that in all likelihood that meant she had not been hostile to Julia either. For that I was grateful to her.

  I checked my appearance in the mirror over the dressing stand and went downstairs. The door to the study was ajar. I knocked on it firmly, determined not to begin this interview at a disadvantage.

  Francis was standing by the window, his back to the door. When I entered the room he turned around and I knew at once from his high colour and from the faint smell of liquor that, early in the day though it was, he had already been drinking.

  ‘You wanted to see me,’ I said.

  ‘Yes.’ He moved away from the window, pulled a high backed chair away from the wall and set it nearby and facing his own captain’s chair. ‘Sit down, Charity.’

  I sat, warily, and folded my hands in my lap to keep them from trembling and betraying my nervousness. Francis, however, remained standing, pacing a little before he spoke as if choosing his words with care.

  ‘I believe you had something of an altercation with my sister,’ he began.

  ‘Yes, that’s true,’ I agreed. ‘She said some rather harsh things to Charlotte about her mother, which upset her a good deal. I’m afraid I made my feelings on the subject known to Selena.’

  I must have spoken with acerbity for he responded quickly.

  ‘Please don’t think I am criticising you. My sister sometimes says things she should not. She means well but her approach is not always wise and I can understand that you might disagree with her from time to time, especially where Charlotte is concerned. I am very pleased with the way things have turned out between you and Charlotte. She seems very fond of you. I must thank you for that.’ He paused, then went on: ‘Indeed, it is the reason I felt I must speak to you now.’

  I said nothing, waiting and wondering what he meant.

  ‘Selena has intimated to me that as a result of your concern for Charlotte’s welfare she mentioned other, rather private, matters,’ he continued uncomfortably. ‘She told you of the problems Charlotte’s mother caused me.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  Francis lowered his head so that his fleshy chin made a deep frill like an old-fashioned ruffle about his neck. I could see this was painful for him.

  ‘In truth,’ he said, ‘these are things I don’t care to talk about. They were not happy times, nor anything to be proud of. But since the subject has been broached I think there is something else I should tell you. For if you are here long enough you will hear it from someone else and I think it best it should come from me.’

  Breath caught in my throat. The whole world seemed to be standing still.

  ‘You look very like my wife,’ he said.

  This, of course, was no surprise to me. I wondered if perhaps I should pretend that it was. But Francis seemed lost in a world of his own, another time and another place far from this darkly shadowed study.

  ‘Selena saw it the first time she set eyes on you,’ he went on. ‘It was the reason, I think, why she offered you the position here as Charlotte’s governess. She thought it would please me.’

  I said nothing. I certainly did not believe for one moment that Selena’s motives had been so altruistic. Even if I had not overheard something of the furious quarrel between her and Francis on that first night, her remarks today would have left me in no doubt of her feelings where Julia was concerned.

  ‘And you are very like her,’ he said. His voice was low, and in it I could hear undertones of emotion, something I had never before associated with bombastic Francis, though Selena had intimated that his emotions were never far from the surface where Julia was concerned. He was looking at me too in a way I did not care for, very intently, his eyes narrow in his fleshy face and reflecting some of the emotion I could hear in his voice. ‘To look at you, Charity, is like looking at Julia when she was your age. Your hair… your eyes… your chin…’

  He reached out his hand, heavy with rings, and I thought for a moment he was going to touch me. Instinctively I recoiled and he must have felt it because his hand dropped back to his side.

  ‘Yes, the likeness is uncanny,’ he said. ‘And not just your appearance, either. You have her spirit, too. Her spirit as it was before it was broken.’

  My mouth felt parched. ‘What broke her spirit?’ I asked.

  He moved impatiently then, and I knew I had asked the wrong question. Francis had deemed it necessary to tell me so much, but there was a great deal more he was not going to tell me.

  ‘She destroyed herself,’ he snapped. ‘I thought Selena had explained that to you.’

  ‘She said Julia turned to the bottle,’ I said boldly. ‘But surely there must have been a reason for that? Was it something she was trying to forget? Something she regretted?’

  ‘Certainly she had a good deal to regret.’ He picked up a paperweight from his desk, rolling it between his hands. Then his mood changed again. ‘Frankly, Charity, it is not something I wish to discuss with you. I simply felt that I should appraise you of the fact that you are very like her, for the fact will undoubtedly cause talk once you have been seen and noticed.’

  He moved toward the door; clearly he had decided the interview was at an end. But I had seen my opportunity and I was not about to let it slip away.

  ‘Why would it cause talk?’ I demanded, remaining firmly in my chair.

  Francis frowned. ‘I would have thought that was obvious.’

  I drew a deep breath. ‘Because Julia left you for a time and because I am a foundling,’ I said. ‘Because you think that they will say the reason I am like Julia is because—’

  ‘Enough!’ he snapped sharply.

  ‘But it is the obvious conclusion,’ I said steadily. ‘And Selena thinks so too, doesn’t she? It’s the real reason she brought me here. Not just because I look like Julia, but because she suspected that Julia was my mother, born to her, perhaps, in the years when she had left you.’

  There. It was said. I was trembling but I faced him out boldly and saw the flash of fury.

/>   ‘You go too far!’ he shot at me. ‘I hoped that by talking to you I could… But I see I was wrong. I think, Charity, it would be best if you were to leave Morwennan House…’

  I rose then, not because I had the slightest intention of departing the study but because I did not want to be disadvantaged by him towering over me.

  ‘Very well,’ I said haughtily. ‘If that’s what you want. But I think I should warn you I have no intention of leaving it there. I have spent the whole of my life wondering who I am. For the first time I have a starting point and I shall not rest until I have learned the truth about what happened to Julia in the time she left you. I think you will find the questions I ask in the district and beyond a good deal more embarrassing than the mere fact of my appearance.’

  Francis looked very old and tired suddenly. If he had been a more likeable man I might even have felt sorry for him.

  ‘I hope you won’t feel the need to do that, Charity,’ he said. ‘It would, as you say, cause a great deal of upset and I don’t think you would find anyone to tell you what you want to know. When she left me, Julia left the parish too. No one hereabouts would be able to say with any certainty whether you are her child or not. Any more than I can. You look like her, so I suppose we must assume it is a possibility. But there is no way to go beyond that without tracing her movements of more than twenty years ago – which would be difficult to say the least of it. As to the other matter…’ He paused, giving himself a little breathing space. ‘As to the other matter… I spoke in haste. You have worked wonders with Charlotte and for that I am grateful. It would be a great pity if you were to leave now and I think it would make Charlotte unhappy.’

  I stood my ground, determined to clear the air once and for all.

  ‘Are you saying you do not want me to go, then?’

  He nodded his agreement. ‘I do not want you to go, Charity. And not only for Charlotte’s sake either.’ His eyes were on me and I glimpsed in them that same look I had seen earlier. A look of intensity and longing. A look meant not for me but for Julia as she had been.

  A pulse jumped uncomfortably in my throat.

  ‘You are so like her,’ he said softly.

  I knew in that moment that the sensible thing to do would be to go now, whatever he said. This house with all its secrets and undercurrents was no place to be. I knew, with a deep sense of foreboding, that by remaining here I was flirting with danger – and in ways that had not occurred to me before.

  But at the same time I knew I would not go. I could not leave Charlotte, who had, as Francis said, grown fond of me and who might very well be my sister. And I could not leave without learning more. For there was more to learn, I was certain. Francis had not told me everything there was to tell. It was there in his eyes, along with that frightening desire for me.

  ‘I can’t promise not to ask questions,’ I said. ‘You must understand how important it is to me to try to find out for certain who I am and why my mother abandoned me, whoever she might be.’

  His eyes held mine, but the desire had gone now, replaced by a guarded look.

  ‘I would counsel against that, Charity. Sometimes it is better to remain in ignorance. You are very young; you still have your dreams, and they may be preferable to the truth. In this life there are things we are better off not knowing.’

  ‘You may be right,’ I said steadfastly. ‘But still I want to know.’

  ‘Then you will have only yourself to blame if you don’t like what you learn,’ he said, and I fancied there was something of a threat in his words.

  ‘It is time for Charlotte’s tea,’ I said abruptly. ‘If there is nothing else…?’

  ‘Nothing else.’

  He opened the door for me; as I walked past him I was very aware of him, a strange, mysterious, brooding man in whom passions ran very deep.

  I rather fancied that Julia had broken his heart.

  Ten

  Julia

  Spring came, and summer, and Julia gradually regained her strength. But the bursting buds and the bright sky only served to increase her misery. Not a day passed but she thought of her baby, counting how old he would have been by now, first in weeks, then in months, imagining how he would have grown, picturing him lying in his crib or baby carriage, looking up at her with those dark-fringed eyes. In her visions she saw only that perfect little face, never the hideously deformed body. That came to her only in nightmares, from which she would wake to find her pillow drenched with her tears.

  On rainy days the darkness closed in around her, when the sun shone it was still there, a heavy cloud that followed her wherever she went. And that was not far. She had no interest in anything or anyone; when spoken to she could scarcely bring herself to answer. She grew thin, her once-full breasts now as small as a boy’s; her face lost its bloom. Francis saw her fading before his eyes and it tore his heart in two.

  He talked to Selena about it, pacing the floor while she sat unmoved, uncaring, secretly triumphant.

  ‘She’s in a bad way, Selena. Dr Fletcher says she’s pining for the child and needs a long trip away to take her mind off things. But I can’t get away just now. This is the busiest time of year for the free trade, as you know.’

  ‘Then send her alone,’ Selena said bluntly.

  ‘Alone?’ Francis was shocked. ‘I hardly think that would benefit her. And it would be highly improper.’

  ‘Perhaps her father would accompany her,’ Selena suggested.

  ‘I doubt it. The farm needs all his attention.’ Francis paused in his pacing, a thought striking him. ‘She was with relatives in Falmouth before she came home to live. Perhaps she could go to them for a few weeks. Yes, now I come to think of it, I believe I have the answer. I’ll speak to her about it right away.’

  He blustered out of the room, not even noticing the smirk of satisfaction that twisted Selena’s thin lips.

  She rather thought that in her lethargic state Julia would agree to anything and it would be good – so good! – to have her out of the way, so good to have Francis to herself again, even if it was only for a few weeks. And once Julia had gone, who knew? She may never come back.

  * * *

  The arrangements for the visit were made. Francis had asked Selena if Mrs Durbin could be spared to accompany Julia, but the house where Julia’s aunt and uncle lived was a modest one and could not accommodate a servant, so in the event Julia travelled alone.

  As the carriage topped the steep rise out of the heavy shadow of the overhanging trees and into the bright clear sunshine, Julia thought dully that she should be feeling like a bird set free from a cage. This, after all, was what she had wanted for so long – to leave Morwennan House, and Francis. But she could feel nothing. It was as if the weight of grief and guilt had squeezed dry every other emotion. She watched the burgeoning hedgerows flash past the windows of the carriage, saw a kestrel hovering in the clear air, heard the birdsong, the clopping of the horses’ hooves and the swish of the carriage wheels as if through a dense fog, muted, joyless, colourless.

  It was only as the carriage approached Falmouth and she saw the wooded hillsides rolling down to the sea and the impressive Pendennis Castle silhouetted against the skyline that a stab of emotion pierced her and then it was not pleasure but bittersweet nostalgia, an ache of longing for days gone by and a future lost.

  Aunt Prudence was shocked by the sight of her. She knew Julia had suffered and had known that all that had happened would have left its mark on her, but she was quite unprepared for this sad wraith that was but a shadow of the lively, beautiful girl Julia had been. She hustled her into the little house, fussing around her like a mother hen.

  ‘Whatever has become of you, my cherub? You’re in need of some loving care, that I can see. Well, you’ve come to the right place. We’ll get the roses back in your cheeks, just see if we don’t. Now, what do you fancy?’

  Julia looked back at her with dull eyes.

  ‘Oh, nothing, Aunt Prudence. I’m not hungry.’<
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  ‘Of course you are! Now, what about a nice piece of poached chicken? That’ll go down a treat!’

  Julia shook her head.

  ‘A posset then. You shall have the chicken tomorrow when you’ve recovered from the journey. You have to have something, and your Aunt Prudence is going to make sure you do.’

  She was as good as her word. Little by little she tempted Julia with the dishes she had made when Julia was ill as a child – egg custards, warm and soft, that slid down her throat with no effort at all, apple stewed with spices, rabbit braised to tender flakiness and washed down with fresh lemonade. There was junket with wild strawberries, fresh caught fish, floury bread warm from the oven. Under her gentle insistence Julia began to eat again, and found as she did so that her appetite was returning.

  It was good, too, to sleep in her old room, surrounded by the familiar furniture and the cheap little ornaments she had loved as a child. The room had been a haven to her after the death of her mother and it became a haven once again. After a week or so Julia found she was sleeping better, not waking at two or three in the morning to lie restless whilst the relentless thoughts churned around and around in her head, and the terrible dreams when she saw again her tiny son’s deformed body came less often.

  Uncle Silas played his part too, taking her down to the harbour to watch the boats, or persuading her to take a walk with him on soft summer evenings. Though she was still painfully thin, a little colour began to return to Julia’s cheeks and, to her joy, she found that the dark clouds were receding a little, sometimes for hours at a time, then a whole day, and she was able to think more clearly.

  They still hovered on the horizon, however, ready to close in again at the slightest provocation. One such trigger was a visit from Francis.

  ‘You are looking much better, my dear,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘Soon you will be fit enough to come home to me.’

  Julia no longer recoiled from his touch; it was as if in some unconscious part of her mind she knew she must accept it. But the mention of going back to Morwennan brought the dark clouds rushing in and her whole body began to tremble.