Matters of the Heart
Page 4
The scenery looked completely different on such a grey day compared to when Aunt Laura, Robert and I had ridden on horseback to see the Dancing Damsels, but the grey sky matched my sombre mood. I knew Molly had been aware that something was amiss but as always she kept silent.
As we passed Granny Merriock’s pretty cottage, I resolved to visit her on the morrow. It wasn’t far to walk and I prayed silently that the weather would be kind. My spirits had lifted suddenly and I pushed Robert to the back of my mind and set to wondering about Jason Trehaine. I was curious to know what Mannamead was like and wondering what sort of man Mr Trehaine would be.
It wasn’t long before we were turning into a short, hedge-lined drive. The house was enchanting, Georgian in style and white walled, with an aura of wealth. The tall windows were grey today but I could imagine how, with the sun shining on them, they would sparkle.
Jack helped me down from the carriage and while he and Molly rode around to the servants’ quarters, no doubt for a cup of tea and cake, I smoothed my skirts, pulled the shawl farther around my shoulders and walked up the many steps to the front door and pulled the bell. It was several seconds before an elderly manservant opened the door to greet me, revealing a beautiful hallway with a green and white mosaic floor. Relieving me of my bonnet, shawl and gloves, Simms, as he told me he was called, went off in the direction of one of the many double doors, leaving me to take in my surroundings.
The hall was light and spacious and my eyes were drawn to the ornate ceiling above me. There were two alcoves either side of the tall, marble fireplace, in each standing a partly-clothed stone statuette. Intricate pillars embraced each double door and a stone balcony ran around each side of the hall, reached by an intricate staircase. I could see the upper door quite clearly. Compared to the clean shabbiness of Pendenna Reach, this was opulent and yet it appeared hardly lived in. Plush rugs in bright colours of red, gold and green were placed outside each door and in front of the fireplace there were two high-backed chairs with red and gold braid.
A portrait under a light caught my eye. It was of a very handsome young woman with dark, curling hair and bright blue eyes. Although handsome, she looked delicate. Her face looked down on me and no matter where I stood, the melancholy eyes followed me. She wore a white organza dress with a high bodice and short, puffed sleeves. The white rose in her hair accentuated the black of it. Curious to know who she was I moved nearer to look at the writing on the small plaque beneath.
‘It is my wife, Charlotte,’ a man’s gentle voice cut through my thoughts. ‘She died of consumption two years after we married.’
How long he had been there I could only guess, but turning to look at the owner of the voice I could see he was a man of about forty-five years with light hair greying at the temple. He was taller than I and slender of build but there was something familiar about him and I wondered idly if we had met before. He came towards me and held both hands out which I took in my own, instantly liking this man.
‘Jane Merriock, welcome to Mannamead. I am so delighted to meet you. I knew your mother well when she was a young woman. I felt such sadness when I knew of her passing.’
Momentarily, the smile vanished from his face.
‘Mr Trehaine, I am pleased to be here and to make acquaintance with one of my mother’s friends. Although she never spoke of you, I have heard of your friendship.’
His smile returned and he led me into the drawing-room. It was as grand as the hall and I looked about me in awe. The ornate fireplace dominated the room with a carved surround. A large, brass fender surrounded it with a cheery fire burning in the grate.
‘Apologies for my rudeness in surveying the room, Mr Trehaine, but you have a beautiful home.’
‘Even more beautiful if I had someone to share it with, but after... I never loved again.’
He paused, then smiled.
‘Forgive me. Please be seated and I will ring for tea.’
I sat on a plush settee covered in green damask, and curtains to match hung at the tall windows. I realised how silly I had been to be apprehensive about visiting Mr Trehaine but I now sensed a similar nervousness in him and deduced from what he had said that he wasn’t used to female company. He rang a bell at the side of the fireplace and then seated himself opposite me.
‘You’re as lovely as Felicity, if you don’t mind my saying so.’
His eyes regarded me with a warmth I could almost feel.
‘Thank you, I am indeed like my mother and hope that my personality matches hers also, for she was gentle and kind.’
I noticed the sombre expression had returned to his face, so to change the subject I glanced to the other side of the room. It was then I noticed, with startled surprise, several of my father’s landscape paintings on the wall and I got to my feet and walked over to them, Mr Trehaine following me.
‘These are my father’s work,’ I said softly, turning to him for some explanation.
‘Indeed they are, Miss Merriock,’ he replied and moved to the window. ‘John was a good friend of mine and I bought them from him over a period of time, a long while ago.’
Accepting this without any question I carried on looking at the pictures before me. A tear fell down my cheek as I saw the embankment and the house where I spent so many happy years, painted by my father’s hand. At this moment the door opened and Simms entered with a young maid who deposited a large tray on the table before the fire. This interruption pleased me as I didn’t want Mr Trehaine to see me upset. We both took our seats again. I poured tea from a silver pot into delicate rose-coloured cups and we drank and ate small sandwiches while generally talking of Polgent and Pendenna and my childhood in London which we kept coming back to at Mr Trehaine’s direction of conversation.
‘And are you happy at Pendenna, Miss Merriock?’
The question was unexpected and I hesitated. Should I tell this stranger, who didn’t seem like a stranger, my true feelings? I felt I should.
‘Not completely is the true answer. My grandmother has welcomed me admirably but Aunt Laura is very cool and indeed almost rude. I find the house oppressive. Your home is more favourable.’
There, I had said it, actually spoken the words as to how I had felt since entering Pendenna Reach. Jason Trehaine had listened without interruption. He placed his cup on its saucer, looking at me thoughtfully.
‘Aunt Laura is a very unhappy woman and has been since my brother, Andrew, disappeared a week before they were due to marry. This doesn’t excuse her manner towards you but may contribute towards it. The house itself is, as you say, oppressive, due to its dark rooms and almost granite-like exterior so I do understand how you feel.’
‘And there is a smell of lavender often in my room, which mystifies me.’
‘This I cannot comment on, but appraising you, I am certain you are a sensible young woman and not prone to flights of fancy, so the fact that you do smell lavender I do not dispute. There is probably a simple explanation.’
I really enjoyed my afternoon at Mannamead and felt quite sad when I left. Just before I seated myself in the carriage, Mr Trehaine took my arm and spoke softly to me.
‘You will be welcome to stay here at Mannamead any time you may choose, Miss Merriock. Please don’t forget that.’
I left with these words ringing in my ears and thought with some pleasure how I would look forward to our next meeting.
6
Molly helped me dress for dinner that evening. I picked the prettiest dress from my wardrobe hoping to impress Robert Thornton. It was made of silk and the turquoise colour shimmered in the evening light as Molly helped me into it. I decided not to adorn myself with jewellery of any type but leave the creamy whiteness of my throat bare.
Adeptly, Molly fashioned my hair up in a soft style and covered it with a delicate lace snood which matched the colour of my dress. I looked at my full-length image in the mirror and moved sideways so I could admire the silk train. I was more than pleased with my appearance.
‘Thank you, Molly. Don’t ask me why but I wish to look my best this evening. Now run along for your meeting with Jack.’
We both grinned at one another for Molly had confided in me of her proposed meeting with Jack that evening. How I wished I could confide in Molly, but to tell the secret of one’s heart to a servant, even one as dear as mine, just wasn’t done. Making my way downstairs, I glanced at the grandfather clock in the hall and realised with some misgiving that I was a trifle late. Standing outside the drawing-room door, my hand on the doorknob, I took a deep breath before I entered. As I opened the door and stepped into the room I could see they were all assembled, plus a young man who was a stranger to me. They all looked up at me as I stood there and Robert was the one to break the awkward moment.
‘I will get you a drink, Miss Merriock,’ he said going to the drink trolley, and I was grateful to him even though I was still smarting at his betrayal that very morning.
Grandmother, dressed entirely in black from head to foot, beckoned me to sit by her on the settle by the fire, a seat I had on previous occasions found most uncomfortable. I seated myself and took a small glass of sherry from Robert with a demure thank you, hardly able to look him in the eye for fear of him reading my thoughts.
Aunt Laura was dressed in a yellow gown which did everything to enhance her dark colouring. Even as I looked, she caught hold of Robert’s arm and I was angry with myself at the pang of jealousy which shot through me. I realised this gesture was deliberate on her part as she looked straight at me with animosity, a secret little smile hovering on her lips.
The newcomer had been in earnest conversation with Robert until he had been interrupted by my aunt. He was not as tall as Robert but he was dark and prepossessing. Grandmother’s voice cut into my reverie.
‘How did your meeting with Mr Trehaine fair today, Jane?’
‘Why, very well, thank you. Mr Trehaine is a charming, friendly man. I like him very much and Mannamead is quite lovely,’ I enthused, smiling at my grandmother.
‘I’m pleased you liked him, Jane, for he was a good friend of your mother’s. How I wish things could’ve been different.’
Her words trailed off and a faraway look had replaced the inquisitive one.
‘In what way?’ I asked, for it seemed my grandmother had made some sort of implication concerning my mother and Jason Trehaine.
‘No matter, Jane! It is an old woman’s rambling,’ she said and abruptly changed the subject. ‘Robert please introduce my granddaughter to our guest.’
Robert Thornton headed towards us with the stranger at his side. I stood to be introduced. Maddeningly the colour rising in my cheeks at Robert’s nearness.
‘Miss Jane Merriock, this is Alan Lester, my good friend who is a historian at Cambridge.’
I proffered my hand which Mr Lester took gently in his own.
‘It is a pleasure, Miss Merriock. Robert has told me much about you.’
Had he indeed, I smarted, and gave Robert a look of dismay which was returned by a mocking smile to which I was becoming most accustomed. Indignation flowed through me at the casual way he looked at me as if nothing had happened earlier that day. At this point, we were interrupted by Mrs Dobbs to say that dinner was ready to be served for which I was thankful.
The table was laid as I had not seen it before, silver knives, spoons and forks of the best quality, white serviettes in silver holders and goblets rimmed with gold. At the centre of the table was a beautiful flower arrangement of yellow roses in a silver bowl. I guessed this was in honour of our guest, Alan Lester. I was thankful I had taken such trouble earlier when I dressed for dinner. Grandmother took her seat at the head of the table and startled us all when she spoke.
‘Please be seated by Robert this evening, Jane.’
As she sat down, Robert held the elaborate dining chair for her. I saw Aunt Laura glance in my direction, a scowl on her face as she seated herself by Mr Lester. So it was, I sat close to Robert at the dinner table with our guest opposite me, much to Aunt Laura’s distaste. While eating our first course, I addressed Alan Lester to break the uncomfortable silence.
‘You are quite far from home, Mr Lester. Are you on holiday or is it some other reason which brings you to Cornwall?’
I smiled at him and realised all at the table were waiting for his answer.
‘To tell you the truth, Miss Merriock, I am here to study the stone circles in this county,’ he said quietly as if only to me, but it is indeed like being on holiday. I understand from Robert that you visited the Dancing Damsels.’
‘Why, yes, only last week.’
‘And what was your opinion of this piece of history?’
‘I found it fascinating, but also decidedly evil.’
‘I had no idea you felt this way, Miss Merriock,’ Robert’s voice drifted across to me. ‘Did you, Laura?’
‘I agree with Jane.’
My aunt, who rarely spoke in my presence, surprised me at her words.
‘It is no matter to me whether I see them again or not for the whole place fills me with dread.’
‘My dear ladies, you have nothing to fear. Is it mere superstition which makes you think thus?’
Alan Lester sat back in his chair. His voice had become stronger and I realised he thought passionately about this subject.
‘It is not only superstition, Mr Lester, but an enormous, tangible feeling of menace.’
Aunt Laura obviously felt very strongly about this.
‘You have no need to fear folklore. Believe me when I say this for the stone circles are in fact attributed to the Druids and are certainly not maidens turned to stone. I assure you that history is fascinating and not to be feared. We have history all around us. Why...’
He paused, his hand indicating our surroundings.
‘This house is a prime example. I wouldn’t doubt there is a priest’s hole somewhere in this building. Would you fear that also?’
I glanced across at Aunt Laura and saw her face had paled significantly and her hand was clenching the serviette she held, her knuckles turning white.
‘There is much talk of it,’ my grandmother now joined the conversation, ‘but one has never been found.’
She turned to Laura.
‘You were fascinated by this when a young girl, weren’t you, Laura?’
‘Yes, Mother. Both Felicity and I searched the house from top to bottom,’ she said, her voice trembling as she spoke, ‘but we found nothing. So, Mr Lester, this assumption is unfounded.’
‘Yet I would have bet my life on it, but I bow to your knowledge of the house, Miss Pendenna.’
Mr Lester bowed his head briefly in my aunt’s direction.
‘We will change the subject now,’ my grandmother interposed. ‘Let us talk of lighter things, like my charming granddaughter, Jane, who has brought such light into my life.’
Grandmother raised her glass of wine as she spoke.
‘To Jane. Long may she stay at Pendenna Reach and come to love it as all Pendennas before her.’
I felt weak with embarrassment as I watched them all raise their glasses, Aunt Laura reluctantly, Alan Lester with a guest’s enthusiasm and Robert, well, he looked toward me glass in hand, and said quietly, ‘To Jane.’
After a delightful evening of witty conversation with Mr Lester, we stood in the hallway to bid him good-night.
On reaching me he whispered, ‘Hold fast when you have it.’
I looked at the others but thankfully no-one had heard him. As I looked into his dark sparkling eyes I realised the words had indeed been meant for my ears alone. What had Robert been telling this man? I felt my cheeks go hot once more as I saw Robert looking at me, that secret smile on his lips once again.
No sooner had I climbed into bed and nestled into the feather mattress than a thunderstorm started to rumble in the distance. It wasn’t long before it had moved nearer.
I got out of bed and, drawing back the curtains, stood silhouetted as I watched the lightning dance across the water. The thunder appeared to shake the foundations of the house as each clap got louder and even nearer.
The storm made me restless and I knew there would be no chance of sleep so, putting on my robe, I made my way to the library with the intention of selecting a novel. As I stepped into the corridor, the house seemed even more eerie at night. Candles still flickered in the sconces and the dim light cast my shadows across the walls as I moved slowly towards the staircase. Before descending, I glanced almost furtively around me. The clock startled me as it chimed the hour of three. The sound of it appeared louder at night and I marvelled that I could not hear it in my room, the walls being so thick.
On opening the library door, I was even more startled. Robert was sitting in an armchair, a book open on his lap. He was just as surprised to see me but quickly gained his composure.
‘Are you frightened of the storm, Jane?’
As he spoke, I was very aware of my attire. I pulled the open robe around me and bunched my loose hair over my shoulders.
‘No, sir, I am not afraid but restless and thought to find a book to read.’
‘Come and sit by me and let us engage in some conversation while the storm rides itself out. I feel like some companionship and yours would be most welcome.’
As he spoke, Robert indicated the empty armchair opposite him. As I hesitated in the doorway, unsure as to whether to go backward or forward, Robert got to his feet and walked towards me, his hands outstretched. In that moment my resolve to be aloof to him dissolved and, trembling, placed a hand in his and let him lead me to the armchair. As I sat down, Robert placed a finger very gently on my bottom lip, bending to me, his eyes looking into mine.
‘Has anyone ever told you, Janie, that you have the prettiest mouth?’ he whispered.