‘How? Oh Ben, you won’t try to gamble for it, will you? ’Tis such a mug’s game!’
He scowled at her. ‘Then I must be a mug, but it’s nothing you need worry your head about, and you’ll keep this conversation to yourself. Especially from our colonial cousin.’
She flushed at his keen gaze, praying that he wasn’t storing away the information on Jude’s obnoxious letter for some future reckoning.
That night, her fears were proved right. She heard the click of her door handle when she had lain sleepless for an hour, and turned her head swiftly. In the half-light from the window, she saw Ben standing inside the door. He threw off his dressing-robe, and climbed into her bed before she could utter a word. His arms imprisoned her, and she could hardly breathe as she was pinned beneath his weight. He made no attempt to move or to force himself on her, he just lay heavily on her body like a block of iron. His voice was cold.
‘I’ve been having second thoughts about our blackmailer’s note. Perhaps there was some truth in it. You and cousin Ran. Have I been too blind to see what’s right under my nose?’
‘Please, Ben, I told you the truth. Nothing happened at Ran’s house—’
She prayed he wouldn’t dig any deeper. It was bending the truth, for the wonder and glory of sharing Ran’s love had been in London, in the place where she had never wanted to go, to which circumstances had forced her.
‘But you’ve shown no interest in coming back to my bed, have you?’ he said ruthlessly.
‘You know why! It was out of concern for you, Ben, since your attack in London—’
‘Ah yes, my attack,’ he spoke softly now. He held one of her hands and forced her fingers to gently touch the tender line of the scar even while it hurt him, knowing it repulsed her, and goading the shuddering response from her.
‘Did you never wonder who my attackers were, Morwen?’
His words startled her, but at least it seemed to have diverted any idea he might have had of ravishing her. She could feel none of the once-welcome hardening of his body against her flesh. He lay limp and heavy.
‘You knew them?’ she echoed.
He gave a harsh laugh.
‘I’m sure you haven’t forgotten the name of Neville Peterson! Yes, my lovely wife, Captain Neville Peterson,’ he said, at her muffled exclamation. ‘That man you thought so charming, and championed against all my advice, until you realized he was the scum of the earth. It seems we’ve both had dealings with our personal devils of late.’
‘Is that why you wouldn’t report it to the authorities?’ Morwen said, shaking. ‘Because of what it might do to me – and Freddie?’
‘Full marks, my dear. You see, your husband still has some finer feelings.’
‘Ben, please stop this.’ Tears began to slide down her cheeks. ‘I hate to see you so full of self-condemnation. What you did was worthy of the Ben that I married, and I want – I want us to be like we were. I want us to be friends—’
‘Friends! Is that what marriage is all about? It’s supposed to mean more than just friendship, or have you completely forgotten your duties?’
There was sudden urgency in his voice, and she trembled to respond. But it was unnecessary. After several minutes, Morwen realized that nothing was happening. Ben, her virile Ben, was unable to perform the very act that made him a man, and Morwen knew what the realization would do to him. Impotence would wound him deeper than all the knife-cuts from Neville Peterson. Ben moved away from her, his voice gravelly.
‘So that’s that. I wish you joy of your virginal bed, but be very sure that if I can’t have you, no one else will. I shall watch you like a hawk from now on.’
In seconds he was gone, and she lay as if carved in stone. What had happened to make them like this with each other? How could two people, who had once been so close, change into the strangers that they were now? And then, once the bitterness of his words had faded, she was left with an unutterable sadness for Ben, and for their bright love that was dying as surely as a summer rose in autumn.
* * *
A few weeks later, when the dull month of January was past, and the February mornings were spangled with frost and dew, Bess Tremayne didn’t bother waiting for Mrs Horn to show her into her daughter’s drawing-room. She had come to Killigrew House with all speed in the little trap, her blue eyes alive, her rosy cheeks like ripe apples. Her excitement bubbled over, and Morwen hadn’t seen her mother so animated in a very long time.
‘What’s happened to you, Mammie?’ she exclaimed. ‘I know it must be something extra-good, so don’t make me wait while you take off your bonnet—’
Bess laughed. ‘I can’t waste time wi’ bonnets and the like! Our Matt’s coming home! He sent a letter to your Daddy and me, and he’s coming on a visit wi’ his wife and boy, and they’ll be here in April! What do ’ee think of that, our Morwen?’
Morwen couldn’t speak for a moment. She saw the shine of tears on her mother’s lashes, mingling with the joy, and it all matched her own feelings. Matt – her darling, dearest Matt, was coming home at last – and it was almost too much, too much… after the terrible weeks just past, when she thought she would go mad if Ben didn’t stop watching her, his edginess with the children, and Ran’s more-frequent absences from the house, she was badly in need of good news. But she had never imagined that it would be this! This was the best news of all.
‘Oh, Mammie—’
Then they were in each others’ arms, laughing and crying and making plans… Matt would want to see everyone, of course. He’d want to admire Ben’s railways, and visit Ran’s clay-stone works; he’d meet all the children and compare their looks with Cresswell’s; Morwen would learn to love Louisa and the American nephew; they would meet Annie, and Jack’s twins, and see how fine a man young Freddie had turned out, with his own business and all… so many plans, tumbling out all at once, and when they heard Mrs Horn’s dry voice asking if they wanted some tea to give their throats a rest, they laughed some more.
‘Yes please, Mrs Horn, and some champagne as well,’ Morwen said recklessly.
‘In the morning?’ the woman said incredulously.
‘Right now,’ Morwen said imperiously. What was the point of being mistress of Killigrew House if you couldn’t order champagne when you wanted it! She caught her mother’s glance as Mrs Horn went out muttering, and giggled. It was so long since she had laughed so much. So long since the world had felt a happy place to live in, and she was savouring every moment.
‘Does Daddy know yet?’ Morwen asked next.
Bess shook her head. ‘The letter’s just come, and I decided it was quicker to come here than to toil up to the moors. Besides, I know how much you miss our Matt, and it seemed right that you should know first.’
‘After you, Mammie. We both loved him best, didn’t we?’ she said softly.
Bess gave a small snort. ‘Mothers don’t have favourites, Morwen. You should know that.’
‘I know it,’ Morwen nodded, and each gave the other a satisfied smile.
They drank tea and champagne, and both were in high spirits when Ben came in from the stables. Where he went these mornings Morwen didn’t know and never asked, but he stopped dead when he saw the two of them.
‘What’s all this? Has my wife turned into a secret drinker now?’ he said unpleasantly.
Morwen ran to him, her eyes glowing. ‘Oh Ben, we’ve had such marvellous news. Matt’s bringing his family for a visit in April. They can stay here, can’t they? And we must throw a party for everyone. It will be so wonderful to be all together again! I shall be so proud of my prosperous brother, and want to show him off to the whole town!’
He couldn’t resist the look on her face. She didn’t just glow, she radiated happiness. Despite the fact that the Killigrew luck had turned against him, and instead of winning at cards he had begun losing badly, he couldn’t dash the joy in Morwen’s face by being less than generous.
‘Of course they can stay here, and of course we’
ll give a party. Why not? If it takes every penny we have, we’ll make Matt Tremayne’s homecoming one to remember.’
Morwen hugged him, pressing her warm lips to his, regardless of her mother’s presence, and hardly realizing it was the first time she had voluntarily kissed him in months. Neither of the Tremayne women realized either, that there was reckless desperation in Ben’s words.
‘It’s hardly going to take every penny, Ben,’ Bess laughed, easy with her son-in-law now that the years had forged the relationship between them.
‘We’ll have to forget that holiday in France though, if Matt’s to be here in the spring. He’ll want to stay a month or so to make the long journey worthwhile. I hope you won’t be too disappointed, Morwen, but we can’t do both.’
He kept his eyes on hers as he spoke, and saw the flush deepen. The foreign holiday had been forgotten for many months now, and to her shame, Morwen knew it was the last thing she wanted, to be abroad in the sole company of her husband. It was an appalling realization, but it was one she had to accept.
‘I must admit it’s more important for me to see Matt,’ she said. ‘And we can make plans to go abroad another time.’
‘Yes, we can,’ Ben agreed, but at that instant Morwen had the strangest presentiment that it would never happen. ‘So I suppose we must let everyone know about this great event. I’ve decided to go up to the works this afternoon. It’s time I saw what was going on up there. I’ll tell Hal your news – unless you want to tell him yourself, Bess?’
‘No – tell him, please! ’Twill gladden his heart, and perhaps Morwen and me can ride over to Truro and let the other boys know? And Ran, of course! He’ll be pleased to see Matt and Louisa as well. I was forgetting Louisa is his cousin. Such a mish-mash of folk we are!’
‘Ah yes, Ran,’ Ben said thoughtfully. ‘Isn’t that house of his going to be ready for him to move in soon, Morwen? Perhaps Louisa would prefer to stay there, or to take turns between us. We must consider her needs as well as ours, my dear.’
Morwen flashed him an annoyed look, seeing Bess’s sudden crestfallen look.
‘It’s Matt who’s coming home, Ben, and he’ll want to stay with his family,’ she said coldly. ‘And Mammie, if we’re going to get to Truro and back today, we had better start right away.’
She turned her back on her husband and began fussing over her mother. The small house Bess and Hal shared would be too small and too modest for the grand Tremaynes of California, and Killigrew House would naturally be the focal point for their visit. How dare Ben put such doubts into her mother’s head. And although Ran was hoping to move into the new house in a month’s time, there would still be a lot of work to do there. He wouldn’t be able to cope with visitors, as well as being so dedicated and enthusiastic about his new business.
For his house, he had staff to hire yet, a housekeeper and maids, and men for the outside work. What Ran needed too was a wife, Morwen thought suddenly, ignoring the pain of the thought. Ran was young and handsome and virile, and she had actually heard women in St Austell market-place sigh wistfully when they saw him walk by. It must only be a matter of time before some pretty young lady took his eye, and there wasn’t a thing Morwen could do to stop it.
Ben let her pass without another word as she went to fetch her cloak, and called for a maid to inform a driver that he was to take them to Truro. How smoothly she slipped into the role of the lady, Ben thought, a small sneer marring the handsome features already split by the scar, and how soon she was going to learn that the Killigrew coffers were emptying rapidly.
* * *
Jack and Freddie were overjoyed at the news. Jack had been an adolescent when Matt went away, but the two of them had been close companions before Matt began to feel restless and had taken up with Jude Pascoe. And Freddie, young and impressionable then, had looked up to his brother, and through all the passing years, had seen him as a kind of romantic adventurer.
‘What was he really like, your Matt, whom everyone seems to idolize?’ Annie Tremayne asked her husband curiously, when the two St Austell women had finally taken their leave, exhausted with all the chattering and reminiscences.
Jack leaned back in his own armchair, comfortable and self-satisfied that at least his brother wouldn’t find him a pauper, or still scratching in the clay for the Killigrews. His children had gone to bed, excited and awed at the thought of a family from across the ocean coming to visit them, and Annie was in her favourite position, sitting on the rug in front of the fire and leaning against him, where he could stroke her fine-spun hair.
‘Our Matt?’ Jack’s voice was indolent with memory. ‘The best-looking of all the Tremaynes, I’d say—’
‘I doubt that, my love! Not as far as I’m concerned, anyway—’
Jack laughed. ‘You’re prejudiced in my favour, and that’s as it should be. But there was something special about Matt. He was always dreaming, yet you always thought Matt’s dreams might come true. Daddy used to get mad with ’un sometimes, saying he had dreams in his head where other folk had clay in theirs.’
‘You make it sound as though everyone for miles around St Austell was bound in some way to the clayworks—’
‘So they were, most on ’em,’ Jack said seriously. ‘Over here in Truro, you don’t know the half of it, Annie. You live in a different world from that of the clayworkers and their families. I’m not belittling it, just saying ’tis different.’
‘Why, Jack Tremayne, I do believe you miss it!’ Annie said softly, twisting her face to look up at him.
He laughed self-consciously. ‘That I don’t! Not when I remember the hardships and the misery of working long hours in stinging rain, with feet so constantly wet they came near to being webbed like the ducks. Nor when I remember how we were all crushed into that small cottage, where you could see the stars through the slates afore summat was done about it.’
‘But?’ Annie prompted him as he stopped, his eyes faraway.
He leaned down and kissed her willing lips. ‘You see too much. You’re like our Morwen, Annie. You can always see when there’s more to tell.’
‘So why don’t you tell me?’
‘Oh, ’tis nothing worth telling. Just that sometimes I get a feeling for the moors, and for the smell of the clay. It don’t make sense to me, when I wanted to get away from it so badly. But I suppose it was born in me, just like the boat-building was born in your Daddy, and it’s something that’ll never really leave me. It’s part of me, I suppose, and of our Freddie and Morwen as well.’
‘And Matt? How do you think he’ll feel, after all these years? Will he want to stay, like his American cousin?’
Jack was thoughtful. ‘I doubt that. Matt’s found all he wants in America. He’s got his wife and a son and he’s a wealthy man. Randell Wainwright’s still looking for what he wants, and ’tis not in California or New York, that’s for sure.’
‘You think he wants Morwen, don’t you, Jack?’
‘Don’t you?’
She didn’t answer. She turned to watch the leaping flames in the firelight. She loved Morwen like a sister, and she didn’t want to see her hurt. Certainly today, there had been dancing lights in Morwen’s eyes, reflected in her mother’s. The news that Matt Tremayne was coming home was the best for both of them. But there were other times when Annie had glimpsed shadows beneath Morwen’s lovely eyes, and the closeness that she and Jack shared seemed to be eluding Morwen and Ben lately. And the thought of another man intruding into their marriage could only mean heartache for everyone.
Annie lived by simple rules. One man, one woman, and anyone else meant trouble. But she agreed with Jack that there were undercurrents in the family. Ran had called to see them on several occasions now that he had a smart new office in Truro, and it was easy to see how he could turn any woman’s head. If Morwen was keeping secrets from Ben, Annie prayed they would soon be resolved.
She turned away guiltily, leaning back against Jack’s knee. She too had a secret. One that she wou
ld eventually have to share with her husband, if what she suspected was true. Without realizing what she did, she softly patted her abdomen, and wondered how he would take the news, if it were true.
It wasn’t that the doctor’s device had failed. It was just that she knew they had been careless because their love was always so spontaneous. It was far too soon to tell, of course, and a few days late with her monthly flows was really no reason for her to suspect. This had happened before and it had meant nothing… but she hadn’t needed logic or a doctor’s examination to know when she was expecting the twins.
It was more than missing the flow of blood. More than counting the days, and wondering and thinking that it might be so. The certainty was borne out of something deep and fundamental inside her, and she desperately longed for another baby. It was her right as a woman, and no amount of medical warnings was going to make her agree to any surgical interference if God had decided to give her one more of His greatest gifts.
‘Annie?’ She heard Jack’s voice, suddenly questioning, as she sat so still, her palm just gently caressing her stomach. He had seen such an action before, seen her like this before, somehow remote and beautiful, and it wasn’t just pleasure on account of his brother Matt coming home…
Lulled by the firelight, she felt as though she turned to look up at him in slow motion. She didn’t want to move too quickly, in case she broke the spell of these perfect moments together. And in that instant, everything there was to know was in her face for him to see. He gave a low groan.
‘Annie, you’re not—’
She had moved in one fluid movement and was in his arms. He held her close as though she was a child.
‘Jack, it was meant to be. If God didn’t want us to have another baby, He wouldn’t have allowed it. Trust Him, Jack!’
Her simple faith embarrassed him. He wasn’t a churchgoing man, but Annie’s faith was absolute. He buried his face in the softness of her hair.
Family Ties Page 15