‘You surprise me then. The fortunes of the clayworks are always uppermost in Walter’s mind.’
Except for Cathy, and now baby Theo, of course. Walter was a family man now, and had other commitments as well as business ones. As a man grew, his commitments grew with him, Morwen thought; widening and spreading, like the ripples in a pool… as she brought her dreaming thoughts sharply back to what Ran was saying, she gasped.
‘What did you say?’
‘I said I discussed the proposition thoroughly with Walter, and he heartily approved of it, and that all three of us should go together—’
‘To Harriet Pendragon’s? That woman!’
She felt as if she could hardly draw breath. However illogical it was, she felt as if every evil thing that had ever threatened her life was taking shape and form, and emerging as the triumphant and sensuous Harriet Pendragon.
‘Listen to me, sweetheart—’
‘I won’t listen! I don’t want to listen to any suggestion of negotiations with her. My daddy and my brother Sam would turn in their graves if they knew, and so would old Charles Killigrew, and Ben – my poor Ben—’
She choked on the final name. The clayworks had been their lives, and this – this colonial upstart was threatening to throw it all away. And she was too incensed to realize how her words and her thoughts were wounding the man who was her husband now.
‘Morwen, will you stop!’ Ran bellowed.
He pulled her to the sofa again, sitting beside her and grasping her hands in his own. He held her captive and glared into her burning face.
‘You haven’t listened properly to a word I’ve been saying. All you can see is your own misplaced and absurd jealousy.’
‘Misplaced? Absurd?’ she echoed witheringly.
‘Totally,’ he snapped. ‘And if you’d just keep quiet for one minute, you’d know that my proposition will rid us of Harriet Pendragon’s greed for good.’
She subsided, hearing the anger in him, and knowing she had simply gone off half-cocked, as her daddy used to say.
‘I’ll listen,’ she muttered.
‘And don’t interrupt,’ he snapped again, not ready to forgive her yet.
‘Can’t I even offer an opinion?’
After a brief silence, when the ticking of the grandfather clock was the only sound in the room, Ran put his fingers gently across her mouth.
‘Not one word, woman. Do I make myself clear?’ he repeated, but his voice was calmer now, and Morwen merely nodded, prepared to submit. At least, for the moment.
Chapter Twenty
A short while later, she stared at him, her eyes luminous now, where they had been so angry before.
‘Oh, Ran. Are you quite sure about this?’ she said. ‘Prosper Barrows meant so much to you.’
He shrugged. ‘It’s a business, that’s all. And when I bought it, it was no more than to give me a legitimate reason for staying in Cornwall when I found the joy of my life. You know that.’
She had the grace to blush. ‘I haven’t been much of a joy to you lately, have I?’
His arms went around her, holding her tightly.
‘You’ll always be a joy to me, Morwen, honey, even when you’re being your most irritating, difficult, cantankerous, beautiful self—’
She gasped, ready to hit out at him, and then the anger turned to laughter when she saw how his eyes were teasing her. She leaned against him.
‘I’m sorry for being so – so – irritating, difficult, cantankerous—’
‘And beautiful,’ he reminded her. ‘Always beautiful.’
She nestled against him for a few glorious seconds, revelling in the closeness that seemed to be miraculously restored to them – for however long it lasted. It was so rare a commodity now, that it seemed cruel to spoil these moments by speaking of mundane matters. But they had to be discussed properly.
‘And you really intend to offer the Pendragon woman Prosper Barrows to give you all the extra capital you need between now and the autumn despatches?’ she said dubiously. ‘China stone has always been your mainstay, Ran, and never such an up-and-down business as the clay.’
‘That’s why I’m damn sure she won’t be able to refuse it. But it’s not just to provide the capital we need. We could no doubt find other ways to raise the money. But this has an added advantage. We’re dealing with a shrewd and avaricious woman, Morwen, who will know a good proposition when she hears one. And we’ll insist that when she buys me out, she’ll sign a cast-iron document to say that she refutes any further interest in Killigrew Clay, and that this statement is to be legal and binding in perpetuity.’
‘My Lord, how impressive that sounds!’ Morwen said. ‘Have you been swallowing a dictionary?’
‘You forget that I had legal leanings myself at one time, and I’m quite familiar with the terms,’ he said with a smile. ‘Walter and I have discussed it all in great detail, and once the woman accepts the deal, we shall bring Justin into it to draw up the document.’
She was instantly charmed at the thought of bringing Walter and Justin together in this way.
‘Shouldn’t Justin be in on the meeting between you and Walter and the Pendragon woman, Ran?’ she went on. For the life of her, she couldn’t bring herself to speak of her more charitably.
‘No, love.’ He caressed her hands in his now, and spoke gently. ‘There are three partners in Killigrew Clay, and they are the ones who must face the dragon.’
She drew in her breath as the meaning became clear, and bit her lip at the unconscious comparison with the woman’s name. It fitted her so well. But she didn’t want to do this…
‘Justin’s part in it all comes later, as the legal representative of the business,’ Ran went on. ‘This is how it must be. Are you brave enough?’
He deliberately challenged her, and she knew she couldn’t back down. She knew what he was giving up for Killigrew Clay. For all that he dismissed it so carelessly, he’d been so proud of his ownership of Prosper Barrows, and it would be a wrench for him to see it go. It hadn’t turned her wild colonial upstart into a home-bred Cornish landowner, but at the time it had been the next best thing.
Despite her hatred of the woman clay boss, and her wish never to see her again, Morwen Tremayne told herself stoically that she had never been afraid of anything, and she wasn’t afraid now.
‘We’ll go whenever you say, dar.’
His answer was to fold her in his arms and to press his mouth on hers in the sweetest kiss.
‘Tomorrow afternoon then. Once Walter and I had come to the decision, I sent a messenger to tell her to expect us all at three o’clock.’
‘Tomorrow! But I need time to get used to the idea—’ she said, in a sudden panic.
‘If you’d been here earlier today, you’d have had plenty of time,’ Ran said drily. ‘I came home especially early to tell you.’
‘I’m sorry. I had no way of knowing.’
He gave her another squeeze. ‘Let’s just forget it and go to bed. You must be tired after all your jaunting about.’
She looked at him with loving eyes. ‘I’m not in the least tired,’ she said.
‘Good. Let’s go to bed anyway.’
* * *
Morwen didn’t feel quite so brave the following afternoon when the time came for the meeting with Harriet Pendragon. Walter arrived in time for an early lunch, and the three of them set out together in the Wainwright carriage. By then Miss Pinner had gone, sourly protesting that children needed to learn the facts of life and not be treated like paper dolls… and Morwen had told her in no uncertain terms that ghoulish and frightening tales were hardly the best facts of life to teach them.
She felt much better when she’d put the stupid woman in her place and sent her packing. But now the nerves were back, and they became much worse when they came in sight of the Pendragon mansion overlooking Bodmin. She had never seen it before, and the aura of wealth it exuded was almost tangible.
‘Saints preserve us,’ s
he muttered. ‘Anyone who lives here must be worth a fortune.’
And well able to pull the purse strings of lesser folk, she thought. No wonder so many of the smaller clayworks had gone under when this woman bought them out with her handsome offers.
‘So she might be,’ Ran said. ‘But don’t forget that she still wants more, and that’s what we’re here to stop.’
‘I still think there should be some other way than by offering her your own business, Ran,’ Walter said, shaking his head, and Morwen could see he was no happier about the situation than she was.
‘The decision’s been made, so let’s hear no more arguments,’ Ran said shortly. ‘We need to show a united front this afternoon, so we’re all agreed that this is the way to do it, aren’t we?’
Morwen put her hand in his. ‘You know we’re both behind you, Ran,’ she said quietly. But to her surprise, he shook his head.
‘That’s not where I want you to be. I want you both at my side. We’re equals in this, and that’s the only way we’ll be strong. The woman musn’t see one flicker of doubt from any of us, no matter how much she offers for Killigrew Clay.’
‘Ran’s right,’ Walter said now. ‘We owe it to those who’ve gone before, and to those who’ll come after us.’
He sounded as noble as if it was Justin speaking then, Morwen thought, loving him. Sometimes they were so alike. It was a pity they were the only ones who couldn’t see it.
Gillings drove the carriage to the imposing frontage of the Pendragon mansion, and a starched and uniformed flunkey came outside to take the horses’ reins and to inform him where he could stable the carriage while the lady and gentlemen were in consultation with Mrs Pendragon. The man sounded grander than they did themselves, Morwen thought in some amusement.
A butler opened the great door of the house, and bowed stiffly. It was the grandest of entrance halls, and Morwen tried not to gape or be too overawed. The floors were of palest patterned marble, enlivened by glowing scatter rugs. There were costly paintings on the walls, and huge floral arrangements in jardinières. And this was only the entrance hall.
‘Madam will be ready to receive you in ten minutes,’ the butler said sniffily, as if they were so far beneath him.
But Morwen forgot about the stiff-necked butler as they were shown into a vast drawing room. Several of the best rooms at New World could be swallowed up in this one room. It all reeked of money and indulgence, from the thick Persian carpets to the heavily ornate Chinese lacquered furniture.
The wall over the mantel was dominated by a life-size portrait of Harriet Pendragon, dressed in shimmering white silk, against a deep red background. Having seen the woman for herself, and hearing her described as normally wearing garish colours, the contrast with her silvery hair and eyes was stunningly beautiful. Morwen would have been less than gracious not to see it.
But her graciousness quickly evaporated. She wasn’t here to see any good in the Pendragon woman. She was here to support her menfolk, and Ran in particular. She glanced at him, and saw that his eyes were drawn to the portrait as well.
‘A good likeness, isn’t it?’ she said, annoyed by the fact that the three of them seemed momentarily mesmerized by the portrait.
‘Amazingly so,’ said Ran. ‘It would do credit to Albie.’
Morwen felt her flesh tingle. God forbid that this woman would ever sit for Albie, she thought, fully aware of the seductive invitation in those silvery eyes. And then she heard Ran laugh softly.
‘Don’t show your claws too obviously, honey,’ he said. ‘I think it’s an amazing likeness, because I didn’t think any man could turn a she-devil into a goddess, even on canvas.’
‘Well said, Mr Wainwright,’ came Harriet Pendragon’s voice right behind them. They all started, and Morwen thought Ran would be chagrined at having his words overheard. But instead, he merely laughed, his eyes challenging this elegant woman in the black satin gown with splashes of scarlet silk at the ruched neck and hemline.
With all these different outfits, she must personally keep the garment world in funds, Morwen thought. But there was a great vulgarity about this need to flaunt her wealth, and as she invited the visitors to sit down, she spread the folds of the satin gown around her, caressing them as if she caressed a lover. And in a single moment, Morwen was intuitively aware of the loneliness in this woman, with no husband and no family. All the wealth in the world couldn’t make up for that.
But it didn’t soften one snippet of Morwen’s feelings towards her, either. This she-devil could ruin them all, and she hardened her heart against any tiny thought of sympathy. In any case, Harriet Pendragon would probably spit in her face if she even suspected Morwen had ever thought such a thing.
‘If I guarantee that it’s not poisoned, will you take some tea with me?’ Harriet asked pleasantly, her eyes shining like diamonds.
She looked only at Ran. She was really enjoying the sparks that flew between them, and Morwen knew how dangerous that could be. When a man and a woman sparked off one another so viciously, that feeling could so easily change to something else. The line between love and hate was very fragile. And the damnable thoughts wouldn’t go out of Morwen’s mind, no matter how much she tried to rid herself of them.
‘Thank you, no,’ Ran said coldly. ‘We’ve come to see you on a business matter, Mrs Pendragon, and we don’t want to take up any more of your time than is necessary.’
‘My, how grand you sound today, Sir,’ she said, teasing him. ‘Well then, what is it you want to see me about that necessitates bringing your whole family with you? Were you so afraid of having a private tête-à-tête with me, Mr Wainwright?’
Morwen gasped in fury at the sheer gall of the woman. She was baiting them all, and she felt Walter put his hand over hers as if to stem her hot-tempered reaction. But she heard Ran laugh again, as if the woman really amused him.
‘My dear lady, a private tête-à-tête with you is the last thing in the world I would wish. As for bringing my family with me, you are mistaken. Family doesn’t come into this. We’re the three business partners in Killigrew Clay, and the future of Killigrew Clay concerns us all.’
‘I see.’ As she spoke, Harriet’s smile didn’t slip.
In fact, Morwen was sure that the lights in her eyes danced even more, and she wondered again if this meeting, however it continued, was a bright spot in an otherwise dull and dreary day. It was a startling thought, but it was a well-known fact that the woman had no friends. Everyone hereabouts was afraid of her money and her ruthless need for power, and it was rumoured that she received no invitations into society, since she had been ostracized by all. For any normal woman, it would make for a lonely existence.
And then, as if she could read Morwen’s mind, and didn’t like what she saw there, she spoke more sharply.
‘All right, Mr Wainwright. Cards on the table, if you please. What is it that you want?’
‘I’m here to ask that you refute all interest in Killigrew Clay, now and in perpetuity, and that you sign a legally drawn up document to that effect.’
It was clear that he couldn’t have staggered her more if he’d dropped a thunderbolt into the room. For a moment, she said nothing at all, and then she burst into noisy laughter, moving to a sideboard and pouring herself a large drink from a whisky decanter without any attempt to offer the others any refreshment. They had refused tea, so it was obviously assumed that they wouldn’t imbibe alcohol in the middle of the day. And nor they would, not in the way this woman was swilling it down like a man, Morwen thought in some disgust.
‘Are you completely mad, Randall Wainwright?’ she said at last. ‘I’ve heard that our colonial cousins are somewhat thick in the head when it comes to business, and go into things like the proverbial bull at a gate, but—’
‘You had best hear me out, Ma’am, before you start throwing insults about,’ Ran said coldly.
Harriet shrugged, seating herself again, and glaring at him insolently.
‘Perso
nally, I don’t see that I have to give you the time of day, man, when you come here with your ridiculous demands. If I want your petty clayworks, I’ll damn well have them—’
‘Not while I have breath left in my body, you won’t,’ Morwen said loudly, and Walter jumped to his feet, his hands clenched by his sides.
‘That goes for me too,’ he said harshly. ‘I promise you a fight before we let one clay block from Killigrew Clay fall into your greedy hands.’
‘Well!’ Harriet said, looking at the two of them. ‘It seems you’ve stirred up quite a bit of family support, Mr Wainwright.’
‘You still don’t understand, do you? There was no need for me to stir up anything. The family business has always supported itself, and will continue to do so. It’s as strong as it ever was when it belonged to the Killigrews. Nothing’s changed in that respect, and we intend to keep it that way.’
‘Oh? And what makes you think I’ll agree to your absurd demand?’ Harriet drained her glass and challenged him with those fine eyes of hers.
‘Because I have a better proposition for you,’ Ran said deliberately, motioning to Walter to sit down again.
‘Really? And are you sure that this is something we should be discussing in front of your wife?’
The innuendo in her voice and her smile was blatantly obvious to Morwen now, but she gritted her teeth and said nothing. Let the woman think what she liked. Ran would soon make it clear that the only communication between them would be a business one.
‘Perfectly sure. My wife has my full support in what I intend to do, as does Walter Tremayne.’
Harriet suddenly looked bored with the whole meeting. She shrugged and stared distantly out of the window.
‘Get on with it then, for I’m tired of your visit. Say whatever you came to say and then I shall be more than glad to show you the door.’
‘I’m offering to sell out Prosper Barrows to you.’ Morwen had wondered why he hadn’t said this right away, but she could see his strategy now. He used the legal kind of tactics that dangled the bait in front of her and allowed her brain to begin working out the pros and cons for herself. Truth to tell, Harriet didn’t really care whether or not she bought out their miserable clayworks, despite its size. It was the challenge of it, more than the business itself, that had grabbed her attention.
Family Shadows Page 27