‘Miss Sophie?’
‘I promised you some fuel for your fire,’ Sophie said cheerfully. ‘Where shall we put it? Feels as if you need some now.’ The cottage was indeed very cold and there was only a glow of embers in the grate. ‘I’ll get Paxton to bring some in here straight away,’ she continued, ‘and we’ll make up the fire.’
Moments later Paxton had brought in a pile of logs, which he stacked at the fireside.
‘There are lots more,’ Sophie told her. ‘Where shall he put them?’
Mrs Slater, still hardly comprehending what was going on, said, ‘There are more?’
‘Yes,’ answered Sophie. ‘Enough to keep you warm for some time.’
‘The lean-to, at the back.’
Sophie sent Paxton to unload the rest of the logs and set about reviving the fire. The firewood was dry and it wasn’t long before there was a cheerful warmth coming from the grate.
Mrs Slater shook off the blanket in which she’d been wrapped. ‘When the kettle sings I’ll make us some tea,’ she said.
‘That would be very kind,’ Sophie said, knowing that any of the precious tea leaves would be used several times before they were discarded, but also knowing that to refuse the tea would be regarded as a slight.
The old woman looked up at that. ‘You’re the one that’s kind, Miss Sophie, bringing me logs. I thank’ee for that.’
When the tea was made and they were sitting either side of the chimneypiece, Nan Slater said, ‘I hear you’re getting married, Miss Sophie.’
Sophie smiled. News certainly travelled fast in this area. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I am.’
‘To Dr Bryan. Is that right too?’
‘Yes.’
Nan took a sip of her tea. ‘When did you meet him?’ she asked. ‘Did you know him before?’
Sophie was surprised at the question. ‘Before when?’
‘Before coming here to Trescadinnick.’
‘No,’ Sophie replied carefully.
‘So you ain’t knowed him long?’
‘Long enough,’ Sophie said with an edge to her voice. She was getting tired of people questioning her choice of husband and it was certainly no business of cottagers like Nan Slater.
Nan took another sip of her tea, savouring its warmth in her mouth before swallowing. ‘So, you know all about him,’ she said.
‘I know enough,’ snapped Sophie. ‘Look, I don’t think any of this is your concern.’
‘My concern is for you, Jocelyn’s niece,’ said Nan unexpectedly.
That brought Sophie up short. ‘What did you say?’
‘You was asking the other day, Miss Sophie, what happened to Cassie’s baby. I thought about what you was asking and when I heard you was to be married, well, you’ve been kind to me, Miss Sophie, and I thought you should know. Some of the Penvarrows is kind, others, not so.’
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Slater, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘So he hasn’t told you.’
‘Who hasn’t told me what?’
‘Dr Bryan... as he’s knowed now.’
‘As he’s known now?’ Sophie was quite mystified. ‘What are you saying?’
‘I’m saying that Dr Bryan hasn’t told you who he really is.’
‘Please don’t talk in riddles, Mrs Slater,’ retorted Sophie. ‘If you have something to tell me, please do, but say it straight.’
‘Straight then,’ said Nan. ‘Dr Nicholas Bryan is Jocelyn Penvarrow’s son. That straight enough for you?’
Sophie stared at her, dumbfounded. ‘Say that again?’ she whispered.
‘Nicholas Bryan is a Penvarrow. He’s your cousin. Jocelyn Penvarrow’s son.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ Sophie said.
‘Believe me or not, it’s true,’ said Nan. ‘He’s my friend Cassie’s son. He was born Nicholas Drew, but his Aunt Hetty and Uncle Albert took him as their own when his mother died, and he was given their name. Bryan.’
‘If that’s true, how do you know?’ demanded Sophie. ‘How do you know who he is?’
‘Because he come to see me when he come doctoring in Port Felec. Cassie’s brother, Edwin, had told him who he really was, making out the Penvarrows owed him, and he come to find them. Edwin told him about me, that I was his mother’s friend, so he come to find me too. He told me who he was, but made me swear not to tell a soul as he planned to surprise them all.’
‘If he swore you to secrecy,’ Sophie looked at the old woman through narrowed eyes, ‘why are you telling me now?’
‘Because you’re planning to marry him, or perhaps I should say, he’s planning to marry you.’
‘That’s the same thing,’ Sophie said feebly.
‘No, it ain’t,’ asserted Nan. ‘Not at all it ain’t. You’re kind, like your Uncle Jocelyn. He’s more like his Uncle Edwin. Has a right temper on him. You don’t want to cross him or he’ll make you pay. If you’re going to marry him, miss, you need to know who he really is.’
It was all too much and Sophie could scarcely comprehend what Nan was telling her, let alone believe it.
‘That Edwin was always a brute,’ Nan went on. She shuddered even now as she remembered having to fight him off when her husband was away at sea. ‘An’ I can see a lot of him in Nicholas.’
Edwin! Well, that was a name she’d heard. Nicholas had told her he’d been visiting his Uncle Edwin when he’d gone off to London so unexpectedly. And surely... wasn’t there an Edwin in the letters too?
‘How do you know he is who he says he is?’ asked Sophie. ‘Anyone could pretend to be Jocelyn’s son.’
‘But why would they?’
‘I don’t know!’ cried Sophie. ‘But someone might, hoping for money or something!’
‘It’s him,’ replied Nan. ‘He’s the spit of his mother. Blue eyes and curly fair hair.’
‘Anyone can have blue eyes and fair hair,’ snapped Sophie.
‘They can, but they don’t all have Cassie’s face, they don’t all tilt their heads the way she did, or sound like her when they laugh.’ Nan looked across at her. ‘Believe me, he’s Cassie’s son all right.’
‘If all this is true,’ Sophie said, ‘why hasn’t he made himself known to the family? He looked after my grandfather until he died. Why didn’t he say who he was?’
Nan shrugged. ‘Perhaps he did. But I can’t see Thomas Penvarrow being any too pleased if a bastard grandson suddenly turned up at Trescadinnick, can you?’
At that moment Paxton appeared at the door and said, ‘I unloaded all them logs, Miss Sophie, and I got to get back home now.’
Still dazed, Sophie got to her feet. ‘I’m coming,’ she answered, then turning back to Nan, she said, ‘I don’t believe any of it.’
‘Fair enough,’ said the old woman with a shrug. ‘But think about it.’ And with that, Nan Slater picked up the cup of tea which Sophie had left untouched beside her and downed it in one.
Sophie pulled the cottage door closed behind her and climbed up beside Paxton. They drove back to Trescadinnick in silence, Sophie’s thoughts in turmoil. As soon as she reached the house she went straight up to her room and locked the door behind her. She flung herself down on the bed, only to get up again immediately to pace the room. How could what Nan Slater had said be true? Surely Nicholas would have told her. Was his reason for coming to Port Felec in the first place to get to know his father’s family, his family? If not, why had he come? Had Nicholas told Thomas who he was? If he had and Thomas hadn’t believed him, the whole house would have known about it. Thomas was not one to keep his anger silent. And if he hadn’t, why hadn’t he?
As she paced, Sophie suddenly realized that she was considering all this as if she believed everything Nan had told her. She thought of Edwin, and went at once to the drawer to find the packet of letters and look through them. Yes. There he was. I am quite well here with Henrietta, and though she is mortified at my disgrace, she will not throw me out like my father and Edwin. (Edwin has since been
to see me but was extremely disagreeable and I told him to go away!)
Cassie had a brother, Edwin, and Nicholas has an uncle, Edwin.
It proves nothing, Sophie thought fiercely. Nothing at all. But her more sensible self had to admit that it might be a pointer to the truth.
She read through the letters again, hoping to feel more in touch with the people who had written them. It was easy enough to hear her mother’s voice, but the other two were strangers. Nan said Nicholas was like his mother, not only in looks but in mannerism too. Surely she must be mistaken. But why would she make up such a story? What was the advantage in that? But if it was true, Nicholas had kept a huge part of himself secret; secret from her. Why? Because they were first cousins? That would be no barrier to their marriage. Because he didn’t trust her? She remembered again Nan’s words: Because you’re planning to marry him, or perhaps I should say, he’s planning to marry you.
Sophie had dismissed the distinction at the time, but to Nan it was important and Sophie considered it now. He’s planning to marry you.
Well, thought Sophie, he is planning to marry me, but that’s because he loves me, isn’t it?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door and Hannah’s voice from outside. ‘Are you in there, Miss Sophie?’ she called.
Sophie unlocked the door and Hannah stepped inside. She took one look at Sophie’s face and said, ‘Why, Miss Sophie! Whatever is the matter?’
‘Nothing,’ replied Sophie, trying to sound normal. ‘I’m a bit tired, that’s all. I don’t like sitting by myself in the drawing room or the library, so I came up here.’
‘You’re pale as a ghost,’ Hannah said. ‘You’re not sickening for something, are you?’
Sophie gave her a wan smile and said, ‘No, really, Hannah, I’m fine.’
‘That’s good then,’ Hannah said, though she clearly wasn’t convinced, ‘because Mrs Treslyn has just arrived and will be joining you for lunch. Mrs Paxton asks if it’s all right to serve at the usual time.’
‘Yes, of course it is,’ Sophie said, ‘though I’ve asked her to refer to Aunt Louisa about things like that.’ She paused and then said, ‘Hannah...’
Hannah halted on the landing and looked back. When Sophie said nothing more, she said encouragingly, ‘Yes, Miss Sophie. Was there something?’
Sophie gave her a smile and shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘No, it’s nothing. I’ll tell you another time. Please tell my aunts I’ll be down in five minutes.’
When Hannah had disappeared downstairs again Sophie closed her door and went to look in the mirror. Yes, she did look pale. She pinched her cheeks to bring some colour, then, having tidied her hair, took a deep breath and went downstairs. She must put the morning’s conversation entirely out of her mind while they all had lunch. She had been so tempted to confide in Hannah, to repeat what she’d been told and ask Hannah what she thought, but she realized there was no time for that now. If she did decide to unburden herself to Hannah, it would have to be when there was plenty of time to talk.
Matty was waiting in the drawing room and when Sophie walked in she looked at her in dismay. ‘Sophie, my dear, you’re looking pale. Are you feeling unwell? I do hope you haven’t taken a chill.’
‘No, Aunt Matty, I’m just a little tired,’ Sophie replied. ‘And how are you, Aunt? I didn’t realize you were coming for lunch today or I would have been down sooner.’
‘I hadn’t planned to come,’ admitted her aunt. ‘But I suddenly decided to come and see how you all are.’
‘I’m glad you did,’ Sophie said. Then, glancing over her shoulder to be sure she wasn’t overheard, she added, ‘It’s been a little difficult these last few days.’
‘I’m sure it has,’ Matty said, ‘but Louisa will gradually get used to the idea, you know.’ Changing the subject, she said, ‘How is Dr Bryan? He must be very busy in this cold weather.’
‘I think he is,’ Sophie said. ‘He was with us for luncheon yesterday, but he didn’t stay long. He said he would call again very soon.’
Matty stayed for the afternoon and while they were together Sophie seriously considered speaking to her about her visit to Nan Slater, and what she’d learned there, but she held back. It wouldn’t be fair to Nicholas to mention it to anyone until she’d had a chance to talk to him, but she found herself having imaginary conversations with him, asking questions that required explanation.
34
It was Thursday morning before Nicholas drove up to Trescadinnick and rang the doorbell. He greeted Sophie with a smile and spoke as if they had not parted on uneasy terms.
‘I’ve come to take you for a drive,’ he said. ‘I thought we could go over to St Morwen and lunch together at the Duke’s Hotel there.’
Sophie was pleased to see him, but it was with some disquiet that she accepted his invitation. ‘That sounds a lovely idea, Nicholas,’ she said, ‘but is it quite proper for us to lunch alone in a hotel?’ It was the wrong thing to say.
Nicholas’s eyes hardened. ‘You go gallivanting about the countryside alone with your cousin,’ he snapped. ‘We, an engaged couple, will be in a public dining room in a respectable hotel. I really can’t see the problem, Sophie. Don’t you want the treat I planned?’
‘Of course I do, Nicholas.’ Sophie was immediately contrite. ‘It sounds delightful. Just let me find my coat and hat.’
He waited impatiently while Sophie warned Mrs Paxton that she would not be in for lunch and then put on her coat. As they were about to leave, Charles came in through the front door. He had seen the doctor’s gig outside and knew he had come to call, but he was surprised to see Sophie dressed to go out.
‘Sophie, is Dr Bryan not joining us for lunch?’ he asked.
‘No, I thank you.’ It was Nicholas who answered. ‘Sophie and I are going to have luncheon at the Duke’s Hotel.’ He stepped forward and opening the front door, ushered Sophie outside.
They spoke little on their way to St Morwen. Sophie wanted to discuss what Nan Slater had told her, but she realized that jogging along the country lanes was not the right place for such a conversation. She would wait until they were sitting down together somewhere and she could see his face, but when they were shown into the hotel dining room and seated at a table in the window, they were surrounded by other diners, and it was clear that this wasn’t the place to bring up the subject either. Nicholas’s mood had eased after the drive and he spoke lightly about what he’d been doing since she had seen him. She did not want to spoil his mood by mentioning she had been to see Nan.
As they were eating their dessert, he looked up and said, ‘What time is the lawyer coming tomorrow? I assume you’ve told your cousin that I shall be there too.’
‘Of course,’ Sophie replied.
‘And he made no objection?’
‘No, why should he? I simply said that if we were talking about the Trust, I wanted you there as well, to hear what they had to say.’ She did not add that although Charles had made no objection, he had shown some surprise, saying, ‘I see. I’ll let Staunton know.’
‘Mr Staunton is coming to Trescadinnick at two in the afternoon tomorrow,’ Sophie told Nicholas. ‘Will you come for luncheon first?’
‘No, I have my rounds to make,’ Nicholas said. It was Friday, the day when he collected his fee from those whom he’d attended in the week. ‘I’ll come at two.’
The conversation had not flowed with its usual ease today. Sophie was all too aware of what she needed to say to Nicholas, but there never seemed to be a right moment to embark on the conversation and it wasn’t until they had returned to Trescadinnick that she said, ‘Nicholas, please join me for some tea. There’s something else we need to discuss.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Really? Very well, but I can’t stay long.’
Sophie led him into the drawing room and when she’d poured the tea that Edith had brought, she drew a deep breath and said, ‘I went to see Nan Slater on Monday. Paxton and I took her some logs.�
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‘I’m surprised at you, Sophie,’ Nicholas said coldly. ‘I thought I’d asked you not to go visiting my patients on your own.’
‘I was not on my own, Nicholas,’ Sophie answered. ‘Paxton was with me.’
‘Paxton was with you? That makes it all right, does it? When I’ve particularly asked you not to go?’
Sophie was determined not to be deflected from the main issue and said, ‘I had promised Nan that I would bring her some firewood, and—’
‘Oh, it’s Nan now, is it?’
‘Mrs Slater, if you prefer.’ Sophie would not be cowed. ‘It was you who took me to meet her in the first place, Nicholas,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ agreed Nicholas, ‘and I’m beginning to wish that I hadn’t. Visiting her with me is an entirely different thing.’
‘So I discovered.’
‘What do you mean?’ For the first time Nicholas sounded uneasy.
‘She’d heard we were engaged—’
‘So has the entire village,’ Nicholas said. ‘You can’t keep that sort of thing secret.’
‘And she asked me a question.’
‘Which was?’
‘How long I’d known you?’
‘Which you told her was none of her business. Really, Sophie, you lay yourself open to such impertinence if you go into the cottagers’ homes.’
‘She asked if I’d known you before.’
‘Before? Before what?’
‘Before coming to Trescadinnick. And I said no, and then she said, So he hasn’t told you who he really is then, and I—’
‘My dear girl,’ interrupted Nicholas. ‘This is all nonsense. You know perfectly well who I am.’
‘Do I? That’s not what Mrs Slater said.’
‘Sophie, my love,’ said Nicholas calmly. ‘I told you before, old Nan Slater is gradually losing her mind. You should pay no attention to her ramblings.’
‘She wasn’t rambling, Nicholas. She told me about your mother, her friend Cassie.’
‘I believe they did know each other when they were girls,’ conceded Nicholas. ‘But that was years ago and her memory is very unreliable now, you know.’
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