‘Mrs Wainwright, I do hope you’ll forgive the informality of this visit, but since I was in the area, I wanted so much to meet you.’
There was a trace of a Cockney accent in the voice. Morwen remembered hearing at the time that old Pendragon had met his wife while on a short outing to London, and had married her within weeks. Looking at the woman, it would seem likely. Those hard, silvery, calculating eyes were taking in everything about the room now, and Morwen wondered if she was mentally pricing it all up in her mind. She declined to take the proffered hand, and Harriet Pendragon withdrew it with an amused smile.
‘I can only give you ten minutes,’ she reminded her. ‘I have other appointments today, so please say what you’ve come here to say.’
She knew she was being ungracious, but she didn’t care.
She was filled with a deep mistrust of this woman. There was an aura surrounding her that was as dark as the colour she wore. It was as crystal clear to Morwen as if she had painted it there herself. It was a devil’s colour. She shook her head as if to clear her mind, and asked Harriet Pendragon abruptly to sit down. Not for the world was she going to offer her tea and turn this into a tête-à-tête, but she could hardly leave a visitor standing. Besides which, the dark aura was very strong, and while the woman was on her feet, it threatened to overpower Morwen.
Harriet sat down with a ripple of satin fabric, sitting with her hands folded perfectly in her lap. Morwen knew instinctively that she hadn’t been born a lady, but she had learned and practised the etiquette of good manners. Morwen hadn’t been born a lady either, but knowing it did nothing to endear her to this one.
‘You’ll have seen the current issue of the Truro newspaper, I daresay,’ Harriet said, with no attempt at the niceties of conversation.
‘I don’t believe there was anything in it of great importance to me,’ Morwen said coldly.
‘Do you not? From all that I’ve heard about you, I wouldn’t have taken you for a fool, Mrs Wainwright, and I thought that as two women clay bosses, we might have been able to reach a common goal.’
Morwen could hardly believe her cheek. Coming into her house and implying that she was a fool, and then suggesting that they might work together, was more than outrageous. It was obscene. She got slowly to her feet.
‘I don’t think we have anything more to say, Mrs Pendragon. My position is totally different from yours, and I wouldn’t dream of putting the two of us in the same category. Moreover, I don’t deal with Killigrew Clay’s business affairs. I leave all of that to the men, the way it has always been.’
‘That’s where you have the advantage over me then, since I no longer have a man at the helm of my ship,’ Harriet said coolly. ‘But I can’t believe you’re of the opinion that a woman doesn’t have a brain?’
‘I didn’t say that,’ Morwen said, irritated at how the woman seemed to be getting the upperhand. ‘Of course a woman has a brain, and can think for herself.’
‘Then why don’t you?’ Harriet said, with a sudden show of passion. ‘Why don’t you tell these damn-fool male bosses that the only way to gain the clayworkers’ confidence is to guarantee their wages for the year ahead?’
‘How can anyone guarantee that with things the way they are?’ Morwen said hotly. ‘Unless you have unlimited funds at your disposal, it would be madness to do so.’
She paused, seeing the triumphant look in the woman’s eyes. Harriet Pendragon seemed to be saying all too clearly that she had those funds, and would stop at nothing to be the most powerful businesswoman in Cornwall.
Morwen turned away from that voluptuous face, and looked deliberately at the clock on the mantelpiece.
‘I believe your ten minutes is up,’ she said. ‘You’ve accomplished nothing in coming here, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t come here again.’
Harriet stood up. She was taller than Morwen, and her stance was so intimidating that Morwen felt as if she mentally stepped back a pace. It infuriated her to know that she was so affected by the woman, but she couldn’t deny the feeling that there was an inexplicable sense of ill-will coming from her. Such instinctive feelings were rarely wrong.
‘Oh, but you haven’t seen or heard the last of me, Morwen Wainwright,’ Harriet said softly. ‘I aim to get what I want, and nothing stands in my way. I’ve tried one approach, and if that fails, there’s always another.’
Her eyes strayed to the portrait of Ran that stood on the piano, and Morwen caught her breath. There was a sexual threat in Harriet Pendragon’s voice now that was almost tangible. But before Morwen could think of another word to say, there was a swish of purple satin, and she was alone.
She was still standing motionless with clenched hands when Mrs Enders came back into the room.
‘What’s happened, my dear?’ she exclaimed at once. ‘Did that one upset you? I knew she was bad news, the minute I laid eyes on her. For all her airs and graces, she was more fitted to bein’ with the sluts on the waterfront than in a decent woman’s drawing room. Sit yourself down, my lamb, and I’ll bring ’ee in a nice hot drink of tea.’
Morwen let her prattle on, without taking any of it in, and then she spoke sharply, needing to bring everything back to a homely, familiar level.
‘Has Bradley appeared yet? If so, I’ll join the children in the nursery for tea, Mrs Enders.’
The houskeeper looked at her uneasily.
‘The two little uns are up there, Ma’am, but young Bradley’s not returned yet. Gillings has gone to look for un, since we know Mr Wainwright don’t like him bein’ at the beach so late in the day, and he’s been gone a fair time.’
Dear God, this was all they needed, for Bradley to commit one of his misdemeanours today. Her nerves were scratchy enough now, without trying to act the peacemaker between her son and her husband. But if Gillings had gone to look for Bradley, there was nothing more she could do about it.
‘Then I’ll take tea with the other two,’ she said, praying that the normality of it would help to ease her mind and settle the growing fear that there were bad days ahead.
* * *
Morwen and the younger children were reading together in the nursery by the time her errant son came home, hauled up the stairs none too gently by Mrs Enders, and thrust into the nursery to present himself.
‘Look at the state of un, Mrs Wainwright! He looks more like a ragamuffin than the son of a gentleman, wi’ his clothes all torn and filthy, and wi’ no explanation to say where ’e’s been.’
As she paused for breath, Bradley tore himself out of her clutching hands. He bawled at her furiously.
‘Leave me be, you old witch! I don’t have to answer to a servant, and there’s some that don’t consider damn Yankees to be gentlemen, anyway—’
He was stopped in mid-flow by a stinging slap across his cheek from his mother, sending him reeling backwards so fast that he staggered and fell. Emma screamed, and Mrs Enders went to her at once. She held the child close, muttering that she wasn’t to fret, but her own face was as red as a turkey cock’s with mortification at Bradley’s onslaught.
Morwen hauled the boy to his feet and slapped him again. She rarely hit her children, but this one was becoming impossibly arrogant.
‘How dare you speak to Mrs Enders like that!’ she raged. ‘You will apologize to her at once, and then you will go and bathe and take yourself off to bed.’
‘I haven’t had any tea!’ Bradley howled.
She shook him violently. ‘You’ll get nothing to eat in this house until you can learn to behave like a civilized human being. And your first lesson is to make a proper apology to Mrs Enders. Now, Bradley!’ she added, as he stood with his jaw sticking out mutinously.
‘I won’t,’ he scowled.
‘What?’ she said, her eyes flashing dangerously. The two younger children had fallen silent and scared at this outright defiance.
‘Perhaps you should leave it for now, Ma’am, until he’s had time to consider it,’ Mrs Enders said nervously.
‘I will not leave it, and neither will he. He’s becoming uncontrollable, and I won’t have it. None of the other boys gave me this much trouble, and I won’t be ruled by one of my own chicks. Bradley, you will do as I say, and you will do it now!’
For a minute longer he glared at her, their identical blue eyes matching in fury, and then he dropped his gaze and stared sullenly at the floor.
‘I’m sorry for calling you a witch, Mrs Enders. But I’m not sorry for the other thing. There’s plenty of folk who say my father’s nothing but a damn Yankee, and I don’t care to be called a damn Yankee’s son, so there!’
He twisted away from his mother and hurtled out of the nursery, slamming the door behind him. Morwen took a step to follow him, and then resisted the temptation. In any case, her duty now was to calm the little ones, instead of continuing this verbal abuse with her obnoxious young sprat.
What was the use, anyway? She’d only hear more of the same, and she could well do without any more accusations against her husband. But she had a horrible suspicion that when Ran got his dander up with folk, Bradley’s words were more cannily true than false. It took more than years of living in the community to become a Cornishman.
Chapter Seven
Rail’s reaction was to declare savagely that if there was one more incident, then Bradley was to be sent away to an English boarding school. Despite his lofty attitude to everything that was Cornish, it was a prospect the boy loathed, but the more he railed against his father, the more Ran became adamant. The atmosphere in the house became ever more bitter, and the relationship between father and son ever more fragile.
Morwen could hardly bear to be around while the constant baiting continued between them, and she was more than thankful when the day of the fortnightly meeting of the Tremayne women arrived. They always met in Fielding’s Tea Rooms in St Austell, and had done so for some years now.
Venetia rode in from her country mansion like a latterday Boadicea, scorning a chaperone; more sedately, Jack Tremayne brought Annie over from Truro. Being of an age that required no escort herself, Morwen always arrived in her own pony and trap, relishing the freedom of having no male company. Bess was always driven into town by her husband, and Hal enjoyed a brief greeting with his womenfolk before taking himself off to jaw with Jack for an hour or so.
There were many things to discuss today, not least of them being the preparations for Justin’s twenty-first birthday party. But first, Annie wanted to hear the news about Cathy. Having gone through bad pregnancies herself, she had an interest in the slight young girl that Walter had married.
‘She’s well, by all accounts. Not that I’ve seen her lately,’ Morwen admitted, thinking guiltily that she should really make more of an effort to visit her daughter-in-law.
If it hadn’t been for the fact that on the last two occasions, the girl’s mother had been firmly ensconced in the house, she surely would have done… she quickly turned her thoughts away from Jane Askhew and asked Annie in return about her own children.
‘They’re well,’ Annie said, her smile lifting, and Morwen couldn’t help thinking how self-centred and insular Annie had become in recent years. She dutifully asked about other family members, but most of the time all her energies were turned inwards towards her own. ‘The girls are going away to nursing college in London soon. Jack’s arranged it all, and they’re that excited—’
‘You’re not sending those babbies away to London on their own?’ Bess almost exploded.
‘Mother, they’re sixteen-years-old, and they’ll be boarding in the college. They’ll come to no harm, and Jack’s vetted it all very carefully,’ Annie said, amused at this old-fashioned attitude, and preening a little at her twin daughters’ ambitions. ‘They’re determined that in time they’ll get good posts as private nurses for some of the best people.’
Bess shook her head. ‘Time was when a family got together and discussed things of such importance, but not any more,’ she said.
‘We did discuss it,’ Annie said deliberately. ‘Me and Jack and our girls.’
And if that wasn’t intended to shut her mother out of any such discussions, Morwen didn’t know what was. Quickly, she asked after Sammie, and Annie’s face cleared.
‘He’s a rascal at times, Morwen. Takes after your Bradley, I think, and sometimes I don’t know what to do with him.’ But her indulgent voice told Morwen that Annie’s ten-year-old would be having far more leeway than Bradley.
‘And how go things with you, Venetia?’ Bess said, turning to the sunnier of her daughters-in-law.
The other three women all looked towards Freddie’s wife in some relief, expecting the usual titbits of information about horses and harnesses, and the rising cost of fodder, but wondering all the same how decently soon they could change the conversation to something of more interest to them all.
But it occurred to Morwen that instead of bubbling over with her usual enthusiasm, Venetia was hesitating. Dear Lord, surely there was nothing wrong there, she thought with a silent groan. As Venetia took a deep breath, she mentally braced herself.
‘Freddie and me were going to tell you together. In fact, we were going to see Morwen first, and ask her advice on telling the rest of you. But, well, now that we’re all here, this might be as good a time as any, I daresay, and Freddie won’t mind if I’m the one to say it.’
She stopped, and knowing it must be something of importance, her three listeners paused in drinking their afternoon tea, and biting into the spicy fruit buns for which the Tea Rooms were famous.
‘Well, are you going to tell us or not?’ Morwen said, putting her tea cup into her saucer with a clatter. ‘Don’t give us half a story, Venetia.’
‘She hasn’t given us anything at all yet,’ Annie said drily. ‘Not that I can imagine there can be anything so all-fired exciting in the horse world.’
‘No more than I can imagine being interested in glueing and hammering bits of wood together and seeing ’em float.’ Venetia flashed back.
‘Come on now, my lambs,’ Bess intervened, seeing the antagonism between them. ‘There’s no call for any of this. Freddie’s a success at rearin’ his horses, and our Jack’s a fine boat builder, and there’s none that’ll say any different in my presence.’
‘I’m sure they didn’t mean anything by it, Mammie,’ Morwen said impatiently. ‘But for pity’s sake, put us out of our misery, Venetia, and tell us your news.’
The girl looked at the others with apprehensive eyes. It must be something serious, Morwen thought.
Venetia would hardly be likely to discuss their intimate lives in a public place, and certainly not with her mother-in-law, nor with Annie Tremayne, with whom she had never really got along.
‘Freddie and me are selling up and moving to Ireland,’ she said, all in a rush.
She couldn’t have caused more of a stir if she’d said they were flying to the moon. For once, Annie said nothing, Bess drew in her breath sharply, and Morwen spoke quickly.
‘Why on earth would you think of doing such a thing? You’re both nicely settled, and I thought that breeding horses was your life—’
Morwen saw her mother’s face redden slightly, not missing the unintentional intimation that there was no other kind of breeding on their horizon.
‘We’re going to breed horses there,’ Venetia said steadily. ‘It’s all been arranged, and we move out in a month’s time.’
Bess looked as if she’d been hit in the face with a hammer. All the colour drained from her face, and Morwen couldn’t miss the fact that with her skin so parchment white, she looked suddenly old.
‘So another of my sons is leaving me,’ she muttered. ‘Our Jack’s near enough at hand as to make no difference, but I doubt that we’ll see our Matt again. And Sam—’
She swallowed, and Morwen knew she was remembering her first-born with an ache in her heart that no amount of time could dispel. Seeing the shadow pass over Bess’s face, Venetia spoke with real distress in he
r voice now.
‘Please don’t take it badly, Mrs Tremayne,’ she had never quite been able to bring herself to call Bess by any other name ‘and we really do want you to come and see our new place and stay there a while. It’s not as if it’s the other side of the world.’ But she bit her lip as she said it, knowing she was making matters worse, in reminding Bess that another son was already on the other side of the world, thousands of miles away in California.
‘Well, since you and Freddie managed to decide on this move without family approval,’ Annie said, unable to resist the barb, ‘how did you find out about this place? You surely aren’t going there without seeing the property?’
‘Oh, I’ve seen it many times. It belonged to my uncle, and my parents used to take me there every year when I was a child. I fell in love with it then, and I’ve often told Freddie about it. And when we went to Ireland for my uncle’s funeral two years ago, my cousin said then that he was thinking of selling up and coming to England to live. Freddie said if he ever decided to do so, to give us first refusal.’
‘And now it’s happened,’ Annie stated. ‘Well, good for you,’ she went on, to everyone’s surprise.
Though Morwen knew she shouldn’t have been surprised, Annie’s selfish streak, and her strange resentment of the family closeness over the years, made perfect sense of the fact that she saw Venetia and Freddie’s decision to break free as a healthy one.
‘I doubt that me and Hal will ever come to visit,’ Bess said woodenly. ‘We’ve never been much for travelling.’
‘Then we’ll just have to come back to see you as often as we can, won’t we?’ Venetia said, determined not to let her lovely dream be deflated by Freddie’s mother. It wasn’t only her dream, she amended. Both of them wanted this, more than anything in the world, and nobody was going to spoil it.
‘What will you do with Hocking Hall?’ Morwen said, recalling the lovely mansion and the land that went with it.
Family Shadows Page 9