The Carpenter's Daughter

by Gloria Cook

  Phoebe was alone in her boudoir, but this time she wasn’t in a foul mood over Michael’s neglect. She had made a copy of the list she had forced on to Joshua and she reclined on the couch with it, stuffing herself with bonbons, crowing over what she was to get out of him. Two thousand a year was a little ambitious but she’d settle for one thousand, and Joshua would feel less strained and pay up all the more easily. He had no choice, otherwise he would have to face public shame. It would be good to throw this truth into Tara’s pious, smug face, but that would not serve her purposes. For years her life had been so much less than she deserved, the next additions to her home and the money would go a little way to compensate her. She would be able to afford to travel, get away from this boring unfulfilled life, indulge herself with some attentive lovers.

  Her mouth felt suddenly dry and she ran her tongue round it. The sweetmeats were rather bitter. She’d make a complaint to the confectioner. A horrid dragging feeling started up in her stomach. She hoped she was not about to be sick, not while she had something at last to celebrate.

  The door opened. ‘I didn’t ring.’ She assumed it was a maidservant. ‘But now you’re here you can bring me some fresh water.’

  ‘Good evening, Mrs Nankervis.’

  She recognized the voice with some foreboding. She tried to get up from the couch but her legs were seized with painful cramps. ‘Laketon Kivell! What do you want?’

  ‘Nothing in particular. Just a bit of a chat and to watch you.’

  ‘You’ve come about my demands. You can’t threaten me in my own home. I won’t change my mind. Joshua will have to pay up.’

  Laketon was immaculately dressed. Lifting his coat tails, he sat across from her. He gazed about the room, admiring his handiwork, then stared at Phoebe with a peculiar smile.

  She was feeling more ill by the second, a strange throbbing had started in her head. ‘Get out!’

  ‘You’re an intelligent woman, Mrs Nankervis, but you don’t see what’s going on in front of your eyes. Did you know your husband is bedding Joshua’s wife?’

  ‘Liar! You’re only saying that to get back at me.’

  ‘Oh, but he is. I’ve seen them together. It suits me very well. It means I have Joshua all to myself, and that’s a good thing for Tara, because I won’t share him. I remove anyone who gets in my way to enjoy him, like Estelle Nankervis and the blustering squire. He’d have found a way to unsettle Joshua even all the way up in London and when Joshua’s anxious he’s not so much fun.’

  Phoebe was open-mouthed and horrified. ‘Are you saying you murdered them?’

  ‘Yes, and Jeffrey Nankervis. You weren’t the first to discover Joshua and I. The boy was an arrogant prig, but like you he was foolish. He confronted me and laughed at how he intended to tell his father. So he had to die, and he made such a fuss when he realized he was to end up in the pool. He was already dead when my cousin came across him. Titus thought it the most enormous fun to lie that he’d tried to save him.’

  ‘Please, I won’t say anything.’ Phoebe knew it was a useless plea. Laketon Kivell was a cold-hearted killer, as pitiless as the grave. Her heart hammered, her throat felt as if it was drying up. She wanted to get away from him but was frozen in fear, her body relentlessly petrifying. ‘What . . . are you . . . going to do to me?’ She had terrible difficulty getting the words out.

  ‘Do to you? I’ve already done it. I knew you had a passion for bonbons. Didn’t you think they tasted rather strange tonight? I coated them with an extract from a root of a rare plant from the jungles of Borneo. The natives use it to paralyse their victims. It’s rather cruel, Phoebe, for there’s no antidote and it takes a long time for someone to expire. The medics and the authorities will see you’ve been poisoned, they’ll be puzzled, but they’ll probably put it down to you touching something in your conservatory and eating without first washing your hands.’ He looked at his pocket watch and stood up, slipping the remaining bonbons carefully into a leather bag he produced from his pocket. ‘Well, I must be away and tell Joshua his worries are at an end. I’ll leave you to it. Good evening, Mrs Nankervis.’

  ‘Arghh.’ The power of speech had left her. To add to her horror and terror Phoebe knew Kivell hadn’t gone yet. As he’d said, he’d come back to watch her, watch and enjoy every last moment of her fear and agony.

  Twenty-Four

  Tempest had an unusual visitor to her sitting room. ‘To what do I owe this questionable pleasure?’ She didn’t ask Laketon to sit down, but he looked as if he wouldn’t accept an invitation anyway.

  ‘I’ve come as a matter of some small respect to you as you’re the head of this family,’ Laketon said in clipped tones. ‘I’m moving out of Burnt Oak.’

  ‘I’m not at all sorry to hear that.’ Tempest indicated the door. ‘I hope you’ll never feel the need to return.’

  ‘You’ll get your wish, ma’am,’ he replied most respectfully, but his eyes were sharded and cold. ‘I’m giving up the carpentry, so there’ll be no rivalry for your favourite, for as long as Sol wishes to continue with it, that is. If he’s wise, he’ll form a partnership with the young trainees here and the girl at Chy-Henver. One business, to take on all the work hereabouts. It will consolidate the Kivell attempts to fit into the wider community very nicely.’

  ‘Sol might well think the same as you.’ Tempest nodded with approval. ‘What will you do?’

  ‘Ah, you are keen to know if I offer anyone here a threat. The thing is, there is much jubiliation at the big house. The squire’s wife is with child.’ He appeared consumed with joy.

  ‘A nice change from the sudden deaths there. So the young lady Tara has a lover. Is your lover as pleased about the child as you are?’ There was nothing Tempest did not know about Laketon.

  ‘Joshua is ecstatic. He realizes it must be his brother’s. Now Michael is widowed it means we may all go about our lives with perfect ease. I shall be living in a very pleasant cottage on the estate and I shall be taking charge of the gardens.’

  ‘And the squire may truthfully raise a Nankervis without fear of slights to his masculinity. I am pleased to hear the squire’s wife will not be in your way and will be able to live long and well.’

  ‘As one murderer to another I’m heartened you see things that way, ma’am.’ Laketon smiled the smile of an angel, emphasizing his good looks, but it spread chills through every fibre of Tempest’s bones.

  ‘Our circumstances are completely different. I killed for my survival.’

  ‘Whatever one does it all amounts to the same, to bring one’s own happiness, even in my cousin Titus’s case. I am not sorry to be leaving here now he’s skulked back home, having realized after a few days of unnecessary terror that your ill-wishes have absolutely no power over him.’

  When he reached the door, Tempest said, ‘Don’t be too sure about that.’

  Laketon paused, reflected, then shook his head. ‘Never on this earth. And now I bid a last goodbye to this little world here.’

  One person was leaving her home but Tempest was expecting the arrival of many others.

  ‘I hope you’re not as nervous about coming here as you were on the way to Poltraze,’ Amy said to Sylvia. They had arrived at Burnt Oak, and Amy was buzzing with excitement and joy, for there was to be a celebration here to mark her betrothal to Sol. The music room in Morn O’ May was about to bustle with people and resound to music and dancing and feasting.

  Sol led the women inside and introduced Sylvia to his grandmother.

  ‘I’m so glad you’ve brought the baby, Mrs Lewarne. I’ve so wanted to meet little Hope,’ Tempest said. ‘This is a day I’ve waited to see and one I’m glad I didn’t have to wait long for.’ The women went off, chatting as if they’d known each other for years, their abusive husbands giving them something in common.

  An open invitation had been given to the village and over twenty inhabitants, including the Greeps, those eager to gain trade and the plain nosy, filed into the music room, exclaiming
at how grand but homely the house was. To loud and merry fiddles, flutes and drums, the gathering danced and laughed, and with suspicions and grievances on both camps set aside, all were having an enjoyable time.

  Amy and Sol danced with no one but each other. She gazed at him adoringly. ‘It would have been good if Tara and Sarah were here, but they can’t be, of course.’

  ‘Tara Nankervis has found her own happiness, and hopefully, one day, somehow, Sarah will find hers.’ Sol kissed her. ‘I love you. It’s strange that we’ll not live here as man and wife, now that you’ve agreed to me putting money into the business and us forming a proper partnership at Chy-Henver.’

  ‘Do you mind?’

  ‘No. When the time is right we’ll go off and see the world. Together.’

  Amy beamed all her love to him. This was a perfect day, the perfect place, with his family and people from the village, to witness their promises to share their future. She twirled and laughed in Sol’s arms to riotous country music. In spite of all the noise there was a sense of peace. Something caught her eye in one quiet corner and for a moment she was sure she saw Toby there. In her heart she called to him. He answered her, and it was more than an echo, something she could cherish and keep for ever.

  Sarah slipped unseen into Burnt Oak and made her way up to the bedroom she had shared with her husband. Titus was lying on the bed, unwashed, unshaven, drinking, scowling at the sound of the merrymaking below. When the door opened, thinking someone had come to encourage him to clean up and take part in his son’s engagement party, he made to throw the glass at the intruder, to swear at being disturbed. He sat up on seeing Sarah, nervous, brave, and so beautiful.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

  ‘I was sent word that you’d come back. How are you, Titus?’ She could see for herself, he was as angry as hell and as bitter as gall.

  ‘Why should you want to know?’ he sneered. He hated her, but he was drawn as always to her gorgeous blue eyes, her raven-black hair, her tender body. And her youth.

  ‘I’m your wife. I meant my vows. I love you, Titus. I’ve come to ask if you want me. If we can try to make our marriage work.’ She held out her hands to him, then wrung them together, afraid of him, yet wanting to go to him, wanting to look after him. Even though he was hard and heartless, and even though he had hurt her and probably would again if he took her back, she really did love him and she wanted to do everything for him.

  ‘Sweet, young, beautiful Sarah.’ He put his glass down and beckoned to her. ‘Come to me.’

  On shaky feet she obeyed. Titus reached out and brought her down on the bed with him. He rested the top half of himself over her. She felt his weight like a heavy boulder. She was trapped, but even though she was scared it was an entrapment she wanted. He stroked her face, a gentle touch. She prayed she’d have his touches for the rest of their marriage and he would keep them gentle. ‘My mother wouldn’t tell me where you were. I suppose she told you to go on with your life and forget me.’

  ‘No, she came to me at the hotel at Redruth and she told me to follow my heart. That’s what I’m doing, Titus. That’s why I’m here.’ Sarah had lied. Tempest had begged her to keep away from him, saying, ‘Try to look on what has happened as a blessing, Sarah. It could mean not having to endure years of abuse, of feeling that if you had to go through one more day of it you’ll go mad. Of wishing you were dead or never been born.’

  ‘But Titus had a right to be angry with me.’ After the hurt, shock and shame, she had thought about the facts of her brief marriage every minute she’d spent alone. ‘I lied to him. I let him think I was pregnant. I should have told him the truth right from the start.’

  ‘But don’t you see, my dear, you’ve done nothing wrong. Nothing was your fault. You shouldn’t have had to wonder if you were pregnant. Titus manipulated you right from the beginning. You were just a child. No husband has the right to treat his wife so cruelly.’

  ‘But he’s been good to me. I had nothing before I met him. I was depressed. I know what it’s like to wish I was dead. I wished it nearly every day. Titus did more than rescue me from the moor. He gave me confidence and dignity.’

  ‘And where is that confidence and dignity now, Sarah? How long do you think you’ll retain it if he takes you back, because if he does it will be to spite you, to torment you. Is that what you want Tamsyn and Arthur to see at Burnt Oak?’

  ‘At the moment they think things will be better if we went back to how things were before, but they’d receive no education, they’d go cold and hungry. We don’t even have a place to live in the village any more.’

  ‘But it need not be like that. I’d see you’re all well. I’d find you somewhere pleasant and safe to live and ensure you have all you would ever need. Think about it, Sarah. You owe it to yourself to have a good life.’

  ‘You could do that for Tamsyn and Arthur. Aunty Molly could go with them, they’d all like that. She’s got enough years left until the children are grown. But I owe Titus my loyalty.’

  ‘Oh, Sarah.’ Tempest had grown exasperated. ‘Why can’t I make you see? You owe him nothing. He’d only destroy you. I never allowed my husband, Garth, to condition me into believing I deserved to be ill-treated. The day I shot him he beat me to within an inch of my life. I sometimes feel guilty for taking his life but I don’t regret it. He was going to start on Eula, you see, in the bedroom. I’ve never told anyone that, I never intended to, but I want you to know this to save you, and perhaps Tamsyn too. She’s a pretty little girl, Titus will notice this in a few years time. How would you feel if he replaces you with her? He’ll tire of you anyway, he throws away all his women when they leave the flush of youth. Sarah, don’t throw your life or my words away. You have a chance to start a new life. Don’t make the wrong decision.’

  Quietly, with the utmost conviction, Sarah had said, ‘But there is one big difference to your situation and mine, Mama Tempest. You were kidnapped and raped and forced to marry. I love Titus and I gave myself to him willingly and I was so happy to be given the chance to marry him, I love him, I can’t help it, but I do.’

  It was that love, and the lonely days and nights of missing him, that had brought her to him now. She’d do anything for him. She would never disobey him. If he gave her another chance she’d work every minute of every day to please him, and he would have no cause to be angry with her, so he’d never have a reason to hurt her. She would prove Tempest wrong, somehow she would.

  ‘Aren’t you a little bit glad to see me, Titus? Didn’t you miss me at all?’

  Titus stared at her. He pressed a hand down hard on her stomach. ‘Miss you? A conniving little barren bitch who’ll never have a child of mine inside her.’

  She put a hand up to his shoulder. ‘But there’s still a possibility I might have a baby one day. It’s not been unknown among the bal-maidens to have my problem but go on to give birth. Now I’m away from all that my body might put itself right.’

  He thrust her hand down, shoved it under her body, and with his weight on her it was trapped there. ‘And I’m supposed to wait until that might happen, am I? You married me falsely, Sarah. No one lies to me and gets away with it.’ He stroked her face again, this time digging in the side of his nail, leaving a sore red mark. ‘Thought yourself lucky when I came along, didn’t you? You used me. I hate that. I hate you for it. And you think you’re an innocent, a sweet young bride, but you’re not, Sarah. You’re a whore. You took everything you could get from me and paid me for it with your body, just like Lizzie at the inn. You trapped me into wedlock, but no one makes a prisoner of any kind out of me.’

  ‘Please Titus, I never meant any betrayal to you.’ Sarah was frightened, it was an effort not to scream for help, but her feelings for him were greater even than that. ‘I gave myself to you out of love, only love. I’ve come to you in good faith, to offer you my love. I love you. Let me love you and look after you.’

  Titus laughed, an eerie, evil sound, and he swore p
rofanely. ‘There’s no such thing as love in this world, you silly bitch! Only power and procreation and having a good time. Don’t say another sickly word. I can’t bear the sound of your sugary voice. And don’t look at me! I hate your eyes, no matter how beautiful they are, because they look at me from your pathetic heart.’ In one furious yank he ripped away the front of her dress. Sarah screamed in fear and pain. She tried to plead but he smacked her face hard. ‘I said don’t look at me!’

  She closed her eyes, shaking and moaning in fear.

  ‘I’m going to punish you, Sarah. Really enjoy myself. You can scream again if you like. With all that racket going on downstairs no one will hear you. Then I’m going to take you for a ride on the moors, just like when we first met. But this time I’ll be coming off it alone. You’re going down the first old mine shaft or deep marsh we come to. I’ll be free again, free to marry a girl I’ll wait for to be at least seven months pregnant and who’ll give me many more babies. And one day, no matter where she might be, I’ll go after your little Tamsyn and I’ll give her a baby. How do you like that idea, Sarah, you barren bitch? Kivell blood mixed with Hichens blood at last?’

  He was on top of her, tearing away her skirts. Sarah lay helpless beneath him, sick over what he’d said, terrified for herself and for Tamsyn in the future. He was hurting her, about to brutalize her. She should have listened to Tempest. Turning her head to look up at her husband she saw him for what he really was, a cruel evil bully, a savage, a madman.

  ‘Get away from her, Titus! I’ve got a gun! I shot your father and I won’t hesitate to do the same to you,’ Tempest shouted at her highest pitch.

  Titus rolled off Sarah and smoothly covered her up. The change in his terrible harsh features was swift, he was smiling sheepishly, almost innocently. ‘Mama,’ he said in a voice that sounded embarrassed, even boyish. ‘What are you doing? You’re interrupting a time between a man and his wife. I know me and Sarah might have been noisy, but it’s how we like it sometimes. Isn’t it, my darling?’ He helped Sarah to sit up and was stroking her face, tidying her messed-up hair. ‘I haven’t seen her for a few days, I got carried away with passion. That’s how it was, wasn’t it, Sarah?’ While Tempest glared at him, the shotgun held up to her shoulder in an unwavering grip and aimed at his chest, he whispered in Sarah’s ear. ‘Tell her it’s so, my love. I was upset and I was only punishing you. I went a little too far, that’s all.’