Morwennan House

by Morwennan House (retail) (epub)

  I do not know how I got through the morning’s lessons. Certainly Charlotte glanced at me oddly once or twice. Then, like a mirage in the desert, I saw Tom on the path outside the window.

  ‘Finish translating that verse,’ I said to Charlotte, grateful that she had been too engrossed in her work to notice Tom. ‘I won’t be a moment.’

  I slipped outside.

  ‘He’s out, isn’t he?’ Tom said abruptly by way of greeting. ‘I saw him in the village. Did you manage to get them?’

  ‘Yes.’ I was a little hurt that he had no kiss or even a smile for me. ‘To be truthful, Tom, you could have got them yourself and not involved me in this deception at all.’

  ‘Can I have them then?’ He held out his hand. ‘Durbin is with Francis – the place is deserted. If I’m quick I can do what I intended now, and with daylight to help me.’

  My fingers fastened round the bunch of keys, holding it tightly.

  ‘Tom, I’m not sure about this. You are not going to rob Francis, are you?’

  ‘Of course not!’ he snapped. ‘There’s something I’m looking for. Something very important.’

  ‘Very well.’ I handed him the keys. ‘Only bring them back quickly, won’t you?’

  Perhaps half an hour or so passed before Tom returned – to me it seemed like a lifetime. I was jumpy as a kitten, terrified Francis or Selena would come home and discover him in the buildings behind the coach house. Then, just as I was wondering how I could possibly make Charlotte’s lesson last any longer without a break, he walked past the window and signalled to me.

  I made an excuse to Charlotte and slipped out. Tom’s face was grim; even before I asked I knew he had not found what he was looking for.

  ‘It wasn’t there,’ he said, confirming what I already knew.

  He handed me the keys. I took them and turned back to the house, anxious only to replace them on their hook before Francis returned. Tom arrested me with a hand on my arm.

  ‘Charity – listen to me. What I am looking for is a ship’s bell. Have you ever seen anything like that anywhere in the house?’

  I shook my head, puzzled. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ His tone was urgent.

  I ran a quick mental inventory of the rooms to which I had access then shook my head again.

  ‘I’ve never seen a ship’s bell. I’m sure I’d remember if I had.’

  ‘What about upstairs?’ he pressed me.

  ‘I’ve never been into Francis or Selena’s rooms, of course,’ I admitted. ‘But surely no one would keep a ship’s bell in their bedroom?’

  His hand tightened on my arm. ‘Could you look for me when the coast is clear? Just in case? It’s very important, Charity.’

  I hesitated. ‘I don’t know… I suppose so…’

  ‘Could you look now? If Francis happened to return I would keep him talking until you got back downstairs and he would assume you had been up to your own room.’

  I bit my lip. I did not like it one bit, but Tom could be very persuasive. And I had to admit my curiosity was aroused now.

  ‘Very well. But I must return the keys first.’

  Leaving Tom outside, I did so, ensured Charlotte was still fully occupied, then, heart thumping, started up the stairs.

  The door to Francis’s room was firmly closed. My nervous hands were so slippery on the knob that at first I could not turn it and I thought it must be locked. Then it gave and the door flew open.

  It was a large room but sparsely furnished, very much the domain of a single man, with no trace of feminine influence. I could see at a glance there were no ornaments whatever and certainly no ship’s bell. Relieved, I closed the door and retreated. If it had been there – what then? Would Tom have expected me to keep watch while he crept upstairs to steal it?

  Simply to satisfy myself – and Tom – I looked into Selena’s room too, though I could not imagine for one moment that it would be there, and I was right. There was a rather grand Chinese screen and the dressing table was set with the various accoutrements a lady needs, but in other respects the room was almost as bare as Francis’s. Only one thing struck me as strange and out of keeping with Selena’s austere nature – an ornate powdered wig on its stand gracing a small bureau. It was a little dusty now, and past its glory days when it had been the height of fashion, but I supposed that once, in her youth, Selena must have worn it on grand occasions with pride, and could not bear to part with it and the memories it evoked for her. Strangely this little act of vanity made her more human in my eyes; I closed the door quickly and went back downstairs.

  Tom was pacing restlessly. ‘Well?’ he demanded.

  I shook my head. ‘There’s no ship’s bell in either Francis’s room or Selena’s as far as I can see.’

  He cursed softly. ‘Is there nowhere else you can think of where it might be? The cellars? The attics?’

  ‘Oh Tom, I don’t know!’ I said helplessly, growing a little tired of his obsession with this bell. ‘I don’t think there are cellars – I should think the rock beneath the house would make them an impossibility. And the door to the attics is always kept locked.’

  His eyes narrowed; I could see that far from discouraging him I had given him fresh hope.

  ‘The key to the door is likely on the same ring you borrowed for me,’ he said. ‘Will you see if you can locate it and have a look for me?’

  ‘Not now!’ I said crossly. ‘It’s far too dangerous. Francis or Selena could return at any moment and I don’t know where Mrs Durbin is. She goes up there sometimes. I think they must be used as storerooms for household items that aren’t in regular use.’

  ‘Are they indeed?’ Tom looked thoughtful. ‘Well – not now then, but when the coast is clear?’

  ‘And if I should find it, what then? Surely you don’t expect me to lug it down and hide it for you?’ I said a trifle sarcastically.

  ‘Of course not. All I need at the moment is to know its whereabouts,’ Tom said.

  Then and only then his hand slipped about my waist, pulling me to him.

  ‘You’re a good girl, Charity.’

  His breath was warm and teasing on my neck, his lips as they touched mine sent such a rush of delight through my veins that the whole unpleasant business of the morning suddenly seemed worthwhile.

  It was only later, when he had gone and my heartbeat and pulses had returned to normal, that I found myself wondering again if Tom was using me, tweaking my emotions to make me dance to his will.

  But my capacity for pushing unwelcome thoughts to the back of my mind seemed to have grown like a field mushroom on a summer morning since I had met Tom. Once again I put my doubts aside and dwelt only on the memory of what his touch could do to me – the memory that all by itself could send delicious little spirals of excitement licking through the deepest parts of me.

  Perhaps I was being a fool, but surely every girl has the right to be a fool once in her life? And the way Tom made me feel was certainly a welcome distraction from all the other matters that troubled me so.

  Fourteen

  Francis was in a foul mood when he returned. A wheel had come off the carriage and he had been badly delayed whilst it was repaired. I heard him ranting about it to Selena, who had joined him in his study; I was lurking in the hall because my sense of guilt over borrowing his keys was so great I needed to reassure myself that he had not noticed they had been touched.

  ‘The man’s an idiot!’ he raved, referring, of course, to Durbin. ‘Why hasn’t he kept a regular check on these things? The horses could have been injured – we could both have been killed!’

  ‘But you weren’t,’ Selena said reasonably. ‘So there’s no harm done.’

  ‘No thanks to Durbin! He’s too old to do his job properly, that’s the trouble. And so is that wife of his. They should have been put out to grass years ago, the pair of them!’

  ‘I have no complaints about Mrs Durbin’s work,’ Selena replied briskly. ‘And in any ca
se, it’s no good complaining. With the situation as it is you know we have no choice but to keep them on. If you were to do something about it then perhaps we could take on other, younger staff, but as things are you know very well that we cannot take the risk.’

  I frowned, wondering what Selena meant. She had said something of the kind before, about there being a reason Mrs Durbin had to manage alone. With all the men involved in the smuggling operation I couldn’t imagine that was enough of a secret in the village to prevent them employing more staff.

  Then I heard Francis mention my name!

  ‘You took the risk when you brought Charity here,’ he thundered at her. ‘I don’t know what you were thinking of – I still don’t. I should have insisted on her leaving that first night.’

  Selena laughed softly.

  ‘But you couldn’t bring yourself to, could you, Francis? Not when she’s the living image of Julia as she was when you fell in love with her. Do you think I haven’t noticed the way you look at her? It’s all you can do to keep your hands off her, is it not?’

  Francis swore. ‘You are an evil woman, Selena. I don’t know why I put up with you in my life.’

  ‘Because you could not manage without me, my dear.’ I could hear the smirk in her voice. ‘You may not have wanted me after you met your precious Julia, but by God you needed me – and you still do. As for your anxiety about little Charity learning the truth – it scarcely matters where she is concerned, does it? She is, after all, family.’

  I was trembling now, my whole body taut. So they really did believe that I was Julia’s daughter!

  ‘And that is what you have planned all along, Selena, is it not?’ Francis said, cutting in on my whirling thoughts. His voice was low and full of bitterness. ‘I think you intend Charity to find out. What I don’t understand is why.’

  Selena chortled unpleasantly. ‘Then, Francis, you are an even bigger fool than I took you for,’ she said.

  The study door was flung open; there was no time for me to dive for the sanctuary of the kitchen. I stood transfixed like a rabbit caught in the glare of a poacher’s torch. For a moment I thought she would be angry; after all, she could be in no doubt but that I had overheard their quarrel. I thought she would chastise me for lurking there. But she did not. After her initial surprise a smirk crept across her face and she raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Why – Charity!’ she said.

  Then, without another word, she turned and swept up the stairs.

  * * *

  So Francis had been right when he had accused Selena of intending that I should learn the truth. The moment I saw her smug face I was sure of it. I had overheard every word they had said; she knew it and she was secretly pleased.

  But why… why? What was the secret they both knew I would be bound to find out sooner or later? The secret Selena wanted me to know and Francis was so anxious to keep from me – and from the rest of the world?

  I stood there motionless, one hand pressed to my hot face, the other tightly clutching at my skirts as Selena flounced triumphantly up the staircase. Should I confront Francis, tell him what I had overheard and demand to know the truth? If I was indeed Julia’s daughter, surely it was no more than my right? But I shrank all the same from the encounter. ‘There are some things it is better not to know,’ he had said to me once before, and Joshua had echoed those sentiments. Was I strong enough to face whatever it might be?

  As I stood there, trying to gather my courage to confront him, Charlotte came running into the hall.

  ‘Oh, there you are, Charity! I’ve finished my lessons. Isn’t it time for a game?’

  I stared at her for a second or two, unseeing, and she tugged at my hand.

  ‘Charity? What’s the matter?’

  I gave myself a small shake.

  ‘Nothing,’ I said.

  For the present, I knew the moment had gone.

  * * *

  The tension was heavy in the house that night. It lay in the air between Francis and Selena, and as for me, I was tight as a drum, wondering whether I should speak out but unable to find the words.

  As soon as I reasonably could I excused myself and went upstairs. I needed to be alone, to think. But as I reached the landing I heard footsteps behind me on the stairs and turned to see Francis following me.

  ‘Charity,’ he said. ‘Is something wrong? You’ve been very quiet this evening.’

  I drew a deep breath. This was my opportunity.

  ‘You talked to me once before about your wife,’ I said.

  ‘Julia.’

  ‘Yes, Julia. You told me I was very like her. You even admitted the possibility that I might be her daughter.’

  ‘Yes, it’s true. I did.’

  ‘I think it is more than that,’ I said as levelly as I could. ‘I think there is something you know which I do not that makes you believe without doubt that I am. And I want to know what it is.’

  He was silent for a moment. Then: ‘Very well,’ he said heavily. ‘I don’t know for certain – no one could. But I do know that Julia had a child in the time she was lost to me. A little daughter.’

  My heart seemed to have stopped beating. The whole world around me seemed to have stopped too.

  ‘And this would be about twenty years ago?’ I heard myself ask.

  ‘Yes.’

  The moonlight shining in through the casement window showed more clearly than daylight the ravages that pain had etched into his face. Every sagging line was evidence of it.

  Julia had hurt him very much, I thought. Talking of her and the other man’s child she had borne was agony for him. No doubt it desecrated his memory of her, marred any happiness they may have shared before – and after – that time when she had left him. But no – there could not have been many happy times, for Julia at any rate. If there had been she would never have run away. Never have turned to the bottle and virtually pined away when she had returned to him.

  And what about me? All my loveless years – all the agonies of wondering – surely they deserved an explanation. I licked my dry lips.

  ‘Why did she abandon me?’ I asked.

  For a moment he did not answer and, just when I thought he was not going to, he spoke.

  ‘She thought you were dead,’ he said.

  His words shocked me to the core. Whatever I had expected it was not this.

  ‘She thought I was dead?’ I repeated in a whisper. ‘But why… why would she think that?’

  ‘Oh, Charity… Don’t ask, I beg you.’

  ‘But I must,’ I said firmly. ‘What you are telling me makes no sense at all.’

  He seemed not to hear me. He was looking at me intently, yet there was a haziness about his eyes.

  ‘You are so very like her,’ he said softly. ‘It’s uncanny. So like her…’

  I shifted uncomfortably beneath that intent gaze. ‘Please…’

  ‘Oh, Charity, Charity…’ he murmured, and seemed to sway on his feet. I thought for a moment that he was ill, that the stress of all this had brought on a stroke. Then I smelled the liquor on his breath and knew I was being too kind in my assessment of his condition.

  He swayed again and reached out for me as if to steady himself. But there was something horrible in the way he clutched at me, not as a support but in a way that might have been lecherous had I not realised it was not me he was seeing in that moment but the reincarnation of the young Julia standing there in the moonlight.

  I tried to step away but my feet seemed anchored to the floor.

  One podgy and moist hand grasped mine, the other went about my shoulders, pulling me close to him. A little cry broke from my lips before his mouth covered mine, stifling it.

  It was wet, that mouth, and flabby, and I tasted the liquor I had smelled earlier on his breath. Again I tried to pull away and could not; I thought I was suffocating beneath its relentless pressure, and panic rose in me along with nausea. Somehow I dragged my hand free, pushing at his brocaded waistcoat, and kicked at his st
ockinged legs with my slippered feet. Yet still he held me fast, his breathing laboured, his body heaving close to mine. And it was not my name on his lips now, but hers.

  ‘Julia… Oh Julia…’

  My flailing hand found his face. I gouged at it with my fingernails. I must have taken him by surprise, hurt him even, for he gasped and relinquished his hold on me a little.

  It was the chance I needed. I hit out again and again, screaming and sobbing.

  ‘How dare you! How dare you!’

  I might have woken Charlotte, alerted Selena and Mrs Durbin, but I was beyond caring. Nothing in the world mattered but that I should escape from this monster that Francis had become.

  And my cries sobered him. He released me so suddenly I stumbled and almost fell.

  ‘Forgive me…’ His voice was a broken whisper. ‘I thought… oh Charity, I thought…’

  ‘I know what you thought!’ I hissed, scrubbing my fist across my mouth to wipe away the hateful taste of him. ‘You thought I was my mother. Well I’m not! And if you ever lay a finger on me again I’ll…’

  ‘You must understand, Charity! I loved her so…’ he interrupted me, his voice thick as if he were crying. But I could feel no pity for him now, only revulsion.

  ‘Get out of my way!’

  ‘Charity…!’

  The moonlight shining in through the window was full on him; he no longer looked like a monster but a shambling broken man. For all that, I did not care to be alone with him a moment longer, no, not even though I had never been closer to learning the secrets of my birth.

  ‘Get out of my way!’ I said again, very low, but very clearly and decisively.

  And to my immense relief he did so. I pushed past him and ran along the corridor to my own room. There I closed the door and turned the key in the lock. I leaned my back against it, felt the use going out of my knees and sank down so that I was sitting on the bare board floor with my arms wrapped around myself. It was a long while before I began to stop trembling and even longer before I had any thoughts that so much as bordered on the coherent.