A Cornish Maid

by Fenella J Miller

  Although she sat at the window until almost midnight she did not see him return. Eventually she disrobed and climbed into bed, thoroughly dispirited. Tomorrow she must apologise to Lucas for suggesting that he should fall off the roof. There was no necessity for him to take himself to the village every evening in order to avoid her company

  However, he proved remarkably elusive. He spent his time crawling over the roof and vanished to the village every evening. At least Martha had forgiven her. They ate each evening in the dining room where they discussed politics and literature. Not once was her behaviour mentioned or the reasons why Lucas now preferred to spend his free time elsewhere.

  Exactly a week after his arrival, he appeared on the terrace dressed more conventionally. She lowered her book, pleased that her hands didn’t betray her disquiet.

  “Miss Tregorran, I apologise for absenting myself these past few days but I wished to get the roof repairs completed before the weather changed. I’m delighted to inform you Tregorran House is now watertight.”

  “I can’t tell you how pleased I am. So kind of you to have given up your time on our behalf. I have been wishing to apologise — ”

  “There’s no need, my dear. I shall be leaving for Plymouth first thing tomorrow morning and your stitches must come out before I go. When will be convenient for me to do this?”

  “Right away. I’m eager to resume my normal activities. I have yet to discover a suitable puppy for the boys’ name day next week. Do you wish me to go inside or can you do what you must out here?”

  “I shall attend you in the small sitting room, Miss Tregorran, in five minutes.” He nodded and with a brief smile strode off.

  He intended to remain aloof from her in future. Her nonsensical imaginings had been put firmly in their place. She envied the easy relationship he’d developed with the children. If there was to be no romantic involvement between them, she would have enjoyed being his friend at least.

  As she reached the entrance hall she realised her foot was dirty. She’d abandoned her stockings and was wearing her wooden overshoes with bare feet She couldn’t let him tend her if she was not clean. Ignoring the fact that he said he would be in the small parlour within five minutes she hobbled upstairs to her bedchamber and tipped water into the china basin.

  She was standing with her foot immersed when he strolled in, his medical bag in one hand. His unexpected appearance caused water to slop over the rim and onto his boots. Mortified to be caught in such an indelicate position, and not sure how to remedy the situation, she froze.

  “Allow me, sweetheart. Raise your foot and place it in the towel I’m holding.”

  Keeping her eyes firmly averted, she did as he bid. He enveloped the wet limb in the cloth and without touching her burning skin with his fingers. With professional calmness, he dried her foot and then, as he had done more than once before, carried her into her sitting room.

  Her heart was pounding so loud she feared he would hear it. She dared not speak in case her voice betrayed her discomposure.

  “This will not take a moment. I promise you it will not hurt.” Cool hands gripped her foot and there was a slight tug as the sutures were removed. “All done. If I’m allowed to say so myself, I did an excellent job. I doubt you’ll even have a scar.”

  She looked down. Her eyes widened. Her foot looked so pale and slender resting in his strong brown hands. She snatched it back and shook out the folds of her skirt. “Lovely. Thank you, Dr. Fairfield. I have missed being able to walk along the beach.”

  He straightened, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, you mustn’t go down there until it’s completely healed. The sand could still get into the healing wound and cause irritation.” He smiled, his eyes dancing with amusement. “However, if you’re prepared to wear your boots and stockings then you may do whatever you wish.”

  His light-hearted remark made her smile. “Shall you be dining with us tonight?” She particularly wished to know the answer as her evening gown was now completed.

  “Yes. I gather from Molly we are to have three courses. Now she has a kitchen maid she is determined to become more adventurous with her menus.”

  Demelza frowned. “I wasn’t aware that Cook discussed matters with you, sir. It would seem I have been rendered invisible these past few days. Out of sight is out of mind were everyone in this establishment is concerned.”

  Instead of taking offence, he chuckled. “Hardly that, sweetheart. I can promise you I have been well aware of your presence.” With that cryptic remark he gathered up his belongings and left her to her jumbled thoughts.

  Sometime later she’d done all she wished to. The children had shown her the improvements to the kitchen garden and the stable yard, which was more than enough walking for one day. “I’m going to take Bessie and drive into Wadebridge. Would you like to come with me?”

  Jack and Tom were delighted. “We haven’t had a ride in a carriage before,” Tom said, dancing round her.

  “It’s not a carriage, silly; it’s a cart,” Jack replied, pushing his brother. Before the squabble escalated, Demelza stepped in firmly.

  “I think Mrs. Smith might like to accompany us. Would one of you kindly find her and ask? We shall be leaving shortly. I have just to collect my bonnet and reticule and you three must tidy yourselves.”

  The excursion was judged a success by the children. However, Martha developed a megrim and retired to her bed chamber with a soothing tisane. Josie volunteered to supervise nursery tea and put the children to bed.

  “I shall come and read your bedtime story after dinner. It’s going to rain tonight. I believe we were lucky to complete our journey without a drenching. I’m afraid you won’t get your evening walk to the beach tonight.” Demelza told the boys.

  Several times, as she sat at her dressing table mirror attempting to arrange her hair, she was tempted to send word down to the kitchen that she, too, was indisposed. Despite her bravado of a few days ago, she was decidedly nervous about spending time alone with Lucas.

  Eventually, she pushed in the final pin. It would have to do. Her new gown was draped over the end of her bed, ready for her to step into. She’d sewn a row of tiny buttons on the front so she could don it herself. The dress was in the new fashion with the waist under her bosom. The flowing lines of the long skirt complemented her height. Keeping her back to the long glass until she was quite ready, she turned. The damask rose silk swirled about her ankles, revealing the dainty pink evening slippers she’d gone especially to town to buy that very afternoon.

  Good gracious! Who was this beautiful stranger staring back at her? What a difference a lovely gown made. She was overdressed for a simple dinner especially as Lucas didn’t possess evening wear himself. Seeing herself so elegant, so sophisticated, gave her the confidence to glide down stairs to the drawing room where he was waiting for her.

  The children had informed Lucas that Demelza’s new gown was completed so he’d made an extra effort himself. He hoped his royal blue, superfine topcoat and pearl grey silk waistcoat would pass muster. He checked in the glass over the mantel that the snowy folds beneath his chin were satisfactory and then glanced down at his boots. He nodded, pleased with their high gloss.

  Light footsteps on the staircase warned him of her approach. He moved into the shadows so he could watch her descend. He’d done well this past week to keep away from her when every time he heard her voice he’d wanted to scramble down from the roof and take her in his arms.

  Tonight was going to be difficult. His breath stopped in his throat. His fingers clenched the doorframe. Descending the stairs was a beautiful young woman dressed in a stunning confection of pink silk, her remarkable green eyes sparkling like emeralds. She was ravissante, a diamond of the first water who would impress the highest members of the ton. Why had he thought her too unsophisticated to become part of his world?

  Demelza paused by the open doors to steady her breathing, then stepped through. Lucas was there. He might not be in evening dress b
ut he looked magnificent. His eyes were dark and held that peculiar look she’d seen before. Heat spread from her toes to the crown of the head. He bowed formally and she dipped in a deep curtsy, praying she would not tip forward onto her nose.

  He took her hand and raised her, but didn’t release her. He carried her fingers to his lips and kissed her knuckles. His eyes held her captive. She couldn’t look away. Couldn’t move. Her world stood still. For a moment there were only the two of them in it.

  Was he going to take her into his arms? What would she do if he kissed her?

  A door banged and Josie bundled through. “Dinner is served. Molly says as you’re to come through or the mussel stew and crab soufflés will be spoiled.”

  Lucas took Demelza’s arm through his with a smile. “Shall we dine, Miss Tregorran? I’ve taken the liberty of buying some French wine.” He winked. “Surprisingly enough, there was an excellent selection to be had in the village.”

  She relaxed. He was so much easier to deal with in this teasing mood; she couldn’t cope with his dark intensity.

  “I believe one can purchase cognac and champagne as well.” Neither of the mentioned the word contraband; it would make the promised treat seem less enjoyable. “A glass of wine with one’s meal is very acceptable, is it not? When my parents were alive, a decanter of claret was always on the table at dinner time.”

  The meal was delicious but she scarcely noticed what she ate. She was completely engrossed by her companion. They talked of nothing very much at all; poked fun at politicians and laughed at the children’s antics. They agreed that there was nothing worse than being obliged to attend an assembly or ball and be crushed with people they barely knew all evening.

  When the final cover was removed, she was giddy with excitement and she’d barely touched her glass of wine. “Shall we stroll to the cliff, sir? It’s so humid indoors. The storm appears to have passed us by this time.”

  He was on his feet immediately, moving around to pull out her chair. She shivered as his warm hand brushed her bare arm. “An excellent notion, but there’s something I wish us to do first.” He paused behind her and she waited expectantly. Her heart thumped. What was he going to suggest? “I wish to be given permission to use your given name, and you must call me Lucas. I’m heartily sick of hearing myself addressed as Dr. Fairfield.”

  She was so relieved he hadn’t suggested something improper that she agreed immediately to his unconventional suggestion. “As the children already call you Uncle Lucas, I suppose I could do the same.”

  His shout of laughter lightened the mood. “Over my dead body, sweetheart. I might be a few years your senior but I’m not old enough to consider myself your uncle.”

  The terrace was pleasantly cool after the stifling heat of the dining room. She viewed the black clouds racing across the sky with disfavour. Perhaps she’d been wrong and a storm was imminent after all. “I think we’d better forego our constitutional, Lucas, unless you wish to be drenched. I certainly don’t as silk will not recover from such harsh treatment.”

  Unaware he was standing close behind her, she stepped back into a solid wall of flesh.

  Heat burned through the thin material of her dress. Everywhere they touched, she was on fire. His arms encircled her, holding her against him. His chin rested gently on the top of her head and she was almost sure he kissed it before stepping away. She didn’t dare turn. Her bosom was heaving; it would be impossible to disguise how his embrace had affected her.

  She took a deep breath and turned slowly. “As we’re not take a stroll shall we sit on the terrace for a while instead?”

  He hesitated. “Very well, Demelza. But remember I’m leaving at dawn tomorrow so I cannot stay long.”

  He made no move to escort her and she regretted her impulsive suggestion. “So early? I hadn’t realised. Pray retire at once, Dr. Fairfield. I have no wish to detain you.”

  He stiffened.

  “Then I shall bid you goodnight, Demelza.” He nodded and stepped back into the house. He called out as he crossed the hall. “Do not expect me back for a week at least.”

  And he was gone, leaving her to come in alone.

  As she pulled the French doors closed behind her, forked lightning slashed across the sky. Thank goodness they had not remained outside. Rolls of thunder, like giants kicking furniture, rent the air. Putting her feelings to one side she limped upstairs to check on the children. As expected, Serena was wide awake and cowering under the bed covers. The church clock in the village had struck twelve before she was able to retire to her own bed.

  When she rose the next morning, Lucas was gone. The house seemed strangely empty without him.

  Life continued to improve for everyone at Tregorran House. Once the fields were planted there should be a surplus of food to help out other families who were on short commons. Lucas was not expected for several days but she found herself constantly looking down the drive, hoping to see him.

  Two days after his departure, she went into the yard with the children to show them the team of heavy horses borrowed from a neighbour. Demelza gripped Jack’s arm. “No, young man, you must remain at my side. These horses are here to plough our fields, they must not be interrupted.”

  He relaxed. “Can we watch from the edge of the field? We’ve never seen horses ploughing have we, Tom?”

  His brother shook his head sadly. “We haven’t, Melza. Can we watch, please?”

  “No, children. That would mean missing your lessons.”

  Martha wandered out from the house to join them. “Good morning, Demelza, children. What a fine sight a team of heavy horses is.”

  “We want to watch the horses, Mrs. Smith, but Melza says we will miss our lessons,” Tom said.

  “If you have no objection, Demelza, I should be happy to take them to the field. We can use the experience to improve their mathematics.”

  “In which case, children, I shall leave you with Mrs. Smith.” She turned to her sister who was hanging back. “Are you not going too, Serena?”

  “No, Melza, I’m going to complete my composition. Mrs. Smith said I can illustrate the pages when it is finished.”

  Demelza followed her sister into the house. She paused in the hall. The sound of horses on the drive made her heart skip. She hurried to the door. Could it possibly be Lucas?

  Of course it wasn’t him. The pony and trap belonged to the vicar; their visitor was Martha’s unpleasant sister-in-law, paying a visit. Mrs. Reynolds was wearing a particularly ugly bonnet which suited her sour face. Anyone who could treat her dearest Martha badly was no friend of hers.

  Demelza called up the stairs. “Serena, please find Mrs. Smith before she disappears. Mrs. Reynolds has come to call.”

  Martha, Demelza and their uninvited guest were sitting on the terrace watching the children playing on the grass. Mrs. Reynolds cleared her throat and fixed her beady eyes on Demelza. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, Miss Tregorran, but Dr. Fairfield became embroiled in fisticuffs at The Green Man the other night.”

  “Thank you for bringing the matter to my attention, madam, but I can assure you he’s very well behaved when at Tregorran House.”

  The vicar’s wife frowned. “I don’t think you quite understand, my dear. The fight was about you.”

  Martha slopped her tea and looked angrily at her sister-in-law. “That’s quite enough, sister. Gossip is not something any of us should indulge in.”

  Demelza interrupted. “On the contrary, Mrs. Reynolds, I wish to know exactly what happened.”

  “Young Johnny asked if Dr. Fairfield was courting you and your guest took exception to his comments and knocked him out.”

  “I expect he was in his cups. Gentlemen behave quite badly when they’ve imbibed too much cider. I can assure you Dr. Fairfield and I are acquaintances only and he will be leaving Cornwall at the end of the summer.”

  The bringer of bad tidings departed soon afterward. Demelza went out to join the children in order to avoid being q
uizzed on the subject by her friend. She couldn’t decide whether Lucas had reacted so violently because he disliked the notion of having his name linked with hers or for some other reason she couldn’t fathom.

  She would speak to him in no uncertain terms as soon as he returned and insist that nothing so vulgar took place again if he wished to remain under her roof. She had an unblemished reputation in the neighbourhood and wished to keep it that way.

  Chapter Seven

  Only four days after his departure, the welcome sound of horses arriving in the yard brought Demelza to the upstairs window. She and Molly had been examining the bed linen to see what needed to be replaced and what could be mended.

  Lucas was astride his massive bay gelding, which was staring down in horror at the children dancing round his feet. Waiting patiently behind him was a smaller, grey horse laden with saddlebags and parcels. She spun and hurried into her chamber, glad that her foot no longer troubled her. Satisfied she was tidy, she almost skipped downstairs and into the yard to greet him.

  He dismounted stiffly, forced to grip the pommel for a moment. He must have ridden hard in order to return so quickly. She called as she ran across the cobbles, “Welcome back, Dr. Fairchild! We did not expect you for a further two days at least. You look quite exhausted; are you quite well?”

  He grinned weakly. His face was sweat-streaked and his eyes dull with fatigue. “I’m ashamed to admit I took a nasty tumble this morning. Perhaps I should not have continued my journey so soon.” He swayed dangerously and she leapt forward to press him back against his horse. The animal, sensing he was needed, stopped cavorting and remained stock still to support his master.

  “Come, lean on Jethro and me. We’ll soon have you comfortable inside.”