And she had already sensed that she had met her match in Randall Wainwright. Having already laughed at his audacity in telling her to refute all interest in Killigrew Clay, and that he would never sell out, Harriet now saw that he was offering her a going concern. It was a bargaining deal, and she was at her best with business deals of this kind. It was one for one. She could take the china stone works, and leave the china clay well alone. She knew the score in such deals. And this classy wheeler-dealer would want a cast-iron declaration that she wouldn’t be able to welsh on her word. She could respect him for that.
‘What’s in it for me?’ she said at last, and Ran knew they were halfway there.
From his document case he drew out stock-sheets and lists of business contacts, together with outline details of the latest accounting figures from Prosper Barrows. The china stone works had never wavered in productivity or prosperity, and Harriet would be able to appreciate that.
‘I would naturally ask you to inspect these documents thoroughly, Mrs Pendragon,’ he said evenly. ‘And I would also request a speedy reply.’
She took the papers out of his hands without a word, and took her time in running her manicured fingers down the columns. Morwen hadn’t expected her to study them so minutely at this stage, and nor had Walter. She felt him shift irritably beside her, and knew he was tiring of this cat and mouse game.
Even the time spent in enjoying the comfort of this lovely house, would be considered wasted time in Walter’s eyes. Walter would far rather be back on the moors with his beloved clay, or at home with his wife and baby, than listening to Ran arguing the toss with this woman. Finally, Walter could stand it no longer.
‘Why don’t we call it a day, Ran?’ he said angrily. ‘’Tis obvious we’re getting nowhere here. She’s just playing wi’ us, and I for one am tired of all this shillyshallying.’ Harriet didn’t even look up from the documents.
‘I’m sure we can do without your presence, Mr Tremayne. If you want to leave, you know the way out.’
‘Stay where you are, Walter,’ Ran said shortly. ‘I believe the lady is astute enough to know a good thing when she sees it, and I prefer not to leave these documents with her unless I have to.’
Harriet raised her eyes now, her voice faintly patronizing. ‘You surely don’t expect me to agree to this sale without letting my financial advisor look over these papers? You know business ethics better than that, and since you’re probably acquainted with Mr David Meadows of Bodmin, you can be assured there’ll be no skulduggery. And I’m quite sure you have duplicate copies of everything here.’
Ran permitted himself the ghost of a smile at her shrewd remark. ‘Of course. Then I suggest that you submit them to Mr Meadows as soon as possible, and that we meet again once he’s seen what a sound proposition I’m making. Meanwhile, I shall advise Mr Justin Tremayne to draw up the legal document we require—’
‘Hold your horses, if you please, Sir! I haven’t said I agree to buying out Prosper Barrows yet, nor to your preposterous terms.’
‘You haven’t said you don’t, neither,’ Ran retorted. ‘And I prefer to have the documents ready the moment you do so. It’s good business practice, wouldn’t you agree?’
Morwen sat silent all this time, listening to them fencing with one another. Ran was clever, but so was Harriet Pendragon. The woman was far cleverer than Morwen Tremayne, clayworker’s daughter, and more perceptive in business matters than Walter, clayworker’s son. She despised herself for the thoughts that seethed through her mind right then, but she couldn’t deny them, either.
‘Then we’ll leave things there for the moment, and Meadows will be in touch with you,’ Harriet said lightly, and the Killigrew Clay partners stood up to leave.
Morwen was still annoyed at letting Harriet make her feel so inadequate in business matters, but then she glanced back and saw the almost envious way the woman’s eyes were following the three of them. And for all that she had such wealth and power, and this rattling great mansion to live in, Morwen imagined again just how empty her life must be without a family around her, and she knew how strong the three of them must appear together.
* * *
‘How do you really think it went, Ran? At first I didn’t think she was going to budge at all,’ Walter said, as soon as they were back in the carriage and away from the house.
‘I did,’ Ran said. ‘I knew it in my bones. It was too tempting an offer for her to refuse. She’ll do well out of Prosper Barrows, and David Meadows will assure her of that.’
‘But to relinquish all interest in Killigrew Clay for all time – or whatever it was you said,’ Morwen said. ‘I was sure she’d argue about that.’
‘Well, she didn’t, and the two of you can ponder about it from now until doomsday if you like, but I’d advise you just to take it at face value and thank your stars that it looks as if we’ll come out of this smiling after all.’
‘It’s just as well she didn’t know about your new northern contacts, isn’t it, Ran?’ Morwen said suddenly. ‘If she’d got wind of new clients putting big orders our way, it might have changed things.’
‘It might. Which is why I’ve kept very quiet about it. No, I think we can safely start to think hopefully about the future now. With the new medical clients being so enthusiastic about taking large deliveries of china clay, and David Meadows is sure to advise the woman to buy out Prosper Barrows, I’d say our worries could well be over.’
‘Well, I just hope you’re crossing your fingers when you say so!’ Morwen said, keeping hers well crossed for good measure as she spoke.
Walter laughed. ‘You always did believe in such little tricks, and good and bad omens, didn’t you, Mother?’
‘And why not? They don’t usually fail me.’
As the carriage neared the clayworks, where they would deposit Walter for what remained of the day, Ran put his hand over Morwen’s.
‘And what does your superstitious little head make of today’s outing, honey?’ he teased. ‘Do you have good or bad thoughts about it?’
She examined her thoughts quickly. She had a natural feeling of caution and suspicion about anything to do with the Pendragon woman, but she undoubtedly felt an uplift of her spirits, if only on account of Ran’s own cheerfulness. And there was no way she wanted to dash that now.
‘Good,’ she said promptly. ‘Only good thoughts, dar.’
He laughed and leaned forward to kiss her cheek, and wondered why it couldn’t always be as sunny as this between them. There was no reason why it couldn’t, but somehow things didn’t always turn out as simply as you expected.
‘I’m leaving you two lovebirds before you start twittering to one another,’ they heard Walter say with a grin in his voice as the carriage slowed at Clay One. He leapt down and smiled up at them.
‘You’ll let me know of any developments, of course. And I presume you’ll beard Justin in his den, Ran?’
Using such archness wasn’t Walter’s usual way, and it told Morwen how awkward he still felt about seeing Justin. She sighed, wishing it wasn’t so, but understanding, all the same.
‘I’ll see to it,’ Ran said. ‘But at some time we’ll all need to sign the document in the presence of witnesses.’
But not now. Not today. And as the carriage trundled away, Walter turned his back on all such complications, and went to his Manager’s hut, to change out of his fine clothes into more workaday ones, and become once again the clayworker he’d always been.
* * *
The horses drew the carriage towards St Austell, before turning away towards New World. And Morwen thought, as always, how beautiful it all was.
Morwen glanced back at the panorama of the open moors and the sky-tips behind her. She could hear the regular throb of the machinery that had long replaced the old laborious handwork methods now, and helped to keep Killigrew Clay alive. She imagined too that she could hear the constant hum of chatter from the clayworkers and bal maidens who were its heartbeat. And she felt
a swelling of pride mixed with humility that she and her family had always been so much a part of this land.
‘You love it all, don’t you, Morwen?’ Ran said softly.
‘I always have. I should miss it so much, if ever it was taken away from us. Is that so absurd, when I’m little more than a figurehead here now?’ she asked, feeling an unexpected nostalgia for the days when she had grubbed among the slurry with the bal maidens, carefree and young.
‘It’s not absurd, honey. It’s just you,’ he said. ‘And I wouldn’t have you any other way.’
Chapter Twenty-One
Domestic matters took up all Morwen’s attention in the next few days, and she was glad to put aside all thoughts of business dealings, whether good or bad; confrontations between stepbrothers; and the unsavoury knowledge that she wasn’t yet rid of Harriet Pendragon. But for now, all that could wait, because this weekend Matt was travelling to London to meet Louisa and Cress and Primmy, and bringing them home to Cornwall from their European tour.
There was great anticipation about the homecoming in the Tremayne and Wainwright households now, trying to imagine all the places the little group had seen and the things they had done, and knowing it was impossible to remotely imagine any of it. The homecoming would also be marked with a certain sadness, because once the family departed for America, it was unlikely that they would meet again for years, if ever.
There would be another sadness in their minds too. Louisa and Cresswell would naturally have been sobered at hearing of Hal Tremayne’s passing, but it wouldn’t have affected them as deeply as it did Primmy. They hadn’t known and loved him as she had. But Morwen had no doubt that Cress would have comforted Primmy when the letters had reached them.
For Bess’s benefit, Freddie had stayed on at Killigrew House far longer than he had intended, supported by Venetia’s letters that generously encouraged him to stay for as long as his family needed him. But Freddie would be looking forward to returning to Ireland very soon too. And Hocking Hall would be put in the hands of the land agents for renting once Matt and his family went home.
Matt had already told them that it would happen at the beginning of August, and they were already halfway through July. His family had been away from their own home a considerable while now, and the visit had been filled with both joy and sadness. But by their very nature, all visits were temporary, and had to end sometime.
Cresswell would be returning to America with far more than memories, thought Morwen, if all went well for him and Primmy. And she would know, by one look at her girl’s face, if it were so. In a few days from now, she would know if Primmy was gloriously happy, or if that delirious, tingling first love had faded. In her heart, Morwen was sure it wasn’t so, and prayed it was the same for them both.
‘I wonder if it would be in order to have a farewell get-together here for Matt,’ Morwen said dubiously over breakfast one morning, and the children whooped with excitement as she spoke. When they had quietened, she went on.
‘It would be too much for Mammie to do, and I’m also wondering how she’d feel about it, Ran, having a party so soon after Daddy’s death, even if we didn’t call it a proper party. But we can’t let Matt go without a decent sendoff, either, and I know Daddy wouldn’t want that. What do you think?’
‘Whatever you say, honey,’ he said, only half-paying attention to her, and more concerned with reading an official looking letter that had arrived that morning. Morwen hadn’t given a thought to what it might be, but now she felt her heart leap. She moved quickly to his side in the dining room and put her hand on his arm.
‘It’s not bad news, is it, dar?’ she said.
‘Not at all. It’s from David Meadows in Bodmin. Harriet Pendragon obviously wasted no time in passing on the Prosper Barrows papers for him to see. He says he’s giving it serious consideration and that Mrs Pendragon will be advised by his findings. He suggests that we meet in a month’s time, to discuss matters further.’
‘He’ll not be hurried then,’ Morwen said, having hoped it would be all over in days.
‘Financial advisors never are,’ Ran said drily, folding up the letter and replacing it in the long envelope. ‘But I do believe this will go through, Morwen, and since we can do no more than we’ve already done, there’s no use worrying about it, is there?’
‘That’s what Daddy used to say.’
‘I know. I thought you’d see the sense in it.’
She couldn’t argue with that, and nor did she want to. She could remove Harriet Pendragon a little further away from her thoughts, at least for the time being.
‘But what about your northern contacts? When are they arriving? And maybe if they make a good offer for the clay you could withdraw the sale of Prosper Barrows—’
Ran stopped her. ‘There’s no turning back now, honey. We’ve decided what’s to be done, and the wheels are very much in motion. My guess is that the Pendragon woman will already be casting her eyes over the china stone works, and seeing what a good bargain she’ll be getting. My first meeting with Bradley Stokes of Stokes and Keighley Medical Manufacturers, takes place the week after next.’
‘But if they place a big order for clay blocks, maybe all this wouldn’t have been necessary—’ she persisted.
‘Morwen, please leave it.’
She could see that he was getting tetchy now, and the children were fidgeting as Mrs Horn whisked them away to the nursery. She promised to come and see them later and read to them, but her mind was only half on the little ones, as she resumed her seat and drank her morning coffee. ‘I’m sorry. I’m only trying to save things for you.’
‘Did it ever occur to you that I don’t want things saved, as you call it? A man can have too many interests, and Killigrew Clay is enough for me, especially if we expand as I hope with the medical supplies. I’m ready to let Prosper Barrows go, Morwen, and concentrate on what I have here.’
If she allowed herself, she could almost think he spoke with a double meaning. But he didn’t, of course. He had no interest in Harriet Pendragon, other than settling this matter with her. She had to believe that, and she did. Their lovemaking of last night had proved beyond doubt that Ran’s love for her was as strong as ever. No woman had ever been more loved or felt more cherished…
‘So can I begin thinking about this farewell evening for Matt then?’ she said, determinedly switching the conversation. ‘I don’t know the exact date they’re leaving, so it doesn’t give us much time for planning.’
‘Arrange it for as soon as you like,’ he said. ‘Why not for the end of next week? They’ll have settled in here again by then. It’s a pity it’s well past midsummer’s day, or I’m sure your romantic little heart would have found something appealing in that.’
‘Of course!’
As romantic as taking a witch’s potion and chanting around the Larnie Stone at midnight and seeing your lover’s face through the hole in the stone… the thought was in her head before she could push it away, and she drew in her breath at the sweet, poignant memory of it.
‘Right,’ she said, quickly dragging her thoughts back to the present. ‘I’ll inform Mrs Enders at once what we’re planning.’
‘Can we make streamers to decorate the house?’ Emma piped up eagerly.
‘I’m not sure whether that will be a good idea, my love—’ Morwen began, wondering if that would be just too much frivolity for Bess.
But with the practical minds of moorland folk, they weren’t a family for plunging into deepest mourning once the burying was over. And to blazes with what polite society thought about that! Morwen thought in a spurt of defiance. But still, Bess’s feelings had to be considered.
‘But if it’s a party, Mammie, we have to have decorations!’ Emma howled at once, not understanding.
‘I doubt that a few trimmings will be out of the way,’ Ran commented. ‘Let them do it, honey. It will be good to give them something pleasant to look forward to.’
‘All right. If you say so.�
�� And as long as she mentioned the decorations to Bess in advance.
‘Hadn’t you also better check with Matt that he wants a party?’ Ran enquired.
‘Oh, he’ll want it! I know my brother. Any excuse to bring all the family together again. I want us all to give Cress and Primmy our blessing too, Ran, for whatever the future holds for them.’
He came around the table and kissed her.
‘Did anyone ever tell you you’re a good woman, Morwen Wainwright?’ he said.
She pulled a face. ‘I’m not sure I want to be described in such terms, thank you very much. It makes me sound so deadly dull and matronly!’
Ran laughed, squeezing her shoulder, his eyes dancing with mischief now.
‘I think I can safely say that isn’t the case, my wanton hussy,’ he said meaningly, reminding her of their glorious lovemaking of the previous night. ‘But I must go now, honey, delightful though this conversation is becoming. You organize whatever you like, and I’ll fall in with it.’
He was a very satisfactory husband at times, Morwen thought, when he’d left the house for the clayworks. And she grinned at the mundane word, which sounded as sane and sensible as calling her a good woman. And both descriptions were so incongruous when applied to last night’s passionately abandoned lovers…
‘Were you wanting me, Ma’am?’ she heard Mrs Enders say, as she still sat dreamy-eyed at the dining table. ‘Afore he left, Mr Wainwright said there was summat of importance you’d be needin’ to discuss wi’ me.’
‘Oh yes, there is,’ Morwen said quickly, becoming suitably businesslike, and hoping that her cheeks weren’t too fiery. She smiled at the housekeeper. ‘We have a farewell party to arrange, Mrs Enders.’
Family Shadows Page 28