The Cornish Lady

by Nicola Pryce

  Bethany looked petrified. ‘No, my love…course not… no one will make ye marry him – least not Lady Clarissa… come with me…come, my love…let’s get ye back to bed. Perhaps Miss Amelia can give ye something…come…that’s it, my love…come this way.’

  Chapter Forty-five

  Trenwyn House

  Wednesday 17th August 1796, 9:30 p.m.

  They kept me in bed all day and I was glad of it, swallowing the buttered eggs as best I could. Lady Clarissa had brought them up to my room herself, balancing the silver tray on my bed, watching me eat every mouthful as she updated me on her birthday preparations. They had filled my room with flowers, Amelia running up and down the stairs to bring me books and snippets of stolen frangipane and caraway cake, and freshly squeezed lemon juice, and a bowl of raspberry sorbet. By afternoon, they had allowed me to sit by the window and I had witnessed the flags being hung in long lines across the terrace and listened to the hammering of nails as the tent took shape.

  I had stared down the newly cut lawn to the dazzling blue water of Carrick Roads, my longing so great my whole body ached. Henry Trevelyan was missing. Major Basset had mobilized his Dragoons and the Fencibles were searching every ship. He would be found. Frederick had been given leave of absence for his mother’s birthday and I watched him standing on the terrace with his arm around Charity. A makeshift stage had been erected, a bower decked with flowers. There was to be a concert, Charity and Amelia would sing and I would recite sonnets.

  The roasting pit had been dug and was already fired. The barrels were in place. Lord Carew had chosen his finest claret and Cook was being given a wide berth by everyone. Bethany had finished sewing her dress and Persephone’s ribbons lay ready by her sty. Horace had been washed and was rolling in the newly cut grass and long lines of lanterns now decorated the shrubbery.

  Amelia stood by my bed in her silk nightgown, smiling her sweet smile, and I caught the aroma of hot honey and lemon. ‘Just the tiniest pinch of valerian,’ she whispered. ‘You need to sleep.’ Her tincture was bitter, despite the honey, but I swallowed it in one and she took the cup from me, crossing to the windows to close the shutters. She pulled back my eiderdown and rearranged her pillow, leaning over to blow out the candle.

  In the darkness, I whispered, ‘Is Daniel Maddox leaving tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered back. ‘And I won’t be sorry to see him go. He’s to leave with the morning tide. A ship’s coming to take him to Plymouth.’

  ‘How was Moses today?’

  ‘Busy cutting lavender – he’s been like Mother’s shadow for most of the day. He’s hardly left her side but he’s limping again. I’ve written to Dr Bohenna and asked him to come.’

  ‘He’d like that,’ I whispered, as the valerian took hold.

  Chapter Forty-six

  Trenwyn House

  Thursday 18th August 1796, 10:00 a.m.

  I would not go down, but sat watching Daniel Maddox from the terrace instead. I had seen the ship arrive and I stood staring in icy dread as they loaded his troughs carefully on to the deck. Lady Clarissa had arranged a line of honour and I watched him walk down the row of gardeners, nodding and accepting their good wishes, and my heart thumped with fear. What if Henry had been arrested? What if he had not had the chance to alert anyone? What if I was just letting this murdering thief go free?

  Lord Carew and Lady Clarissa were waving from the jetty, their grandsons dancing with flags. Amelia handed Mr Maddox a basket and he was bowing, his hat clasped in his hand. He would have tears in his eyes, his parting words wracked with such pain. Moses was watching him too.

  The sounds of last-minute panic were giving way to giggles and excitement. The heavy palm trees were in position, Cook was happy with the ice from the icehouse, and the maids had unravelled the knots in the maypole. The long trestle table lay ready for the refreshments and already I could smell meat roasting in the pit.

  Frederick and Charity were walking arm in arm below me on the lawn. He was in full naval uniform, his white sash shining in the bright sunshine, his gold buttons glinting. Charity was wearing her peach organza with matching roses in her hair. Their voices drifted on the breeze. ‘We can only do what we can do, but it doesn’t bode well. It’ll be good to see Major Trelawney, though – I gather he’s to umpire.’

  ‘Can Amelia umpire? The rules don’t stipulate the umpires have to be men.’

  He kissed her gloved hand. ‘You’re absolutely right. I’ll suggest that to Jethro.’

  The ship had slipped her mooring, the crew hoisting her sails. A perfect summer’s day, and fear clamped my heart. Bethany came to my side. ‘Shall I get you into your gown now, Miss Lilly? Only, then I can see to Miss Amelia.’

  Lord Entworth stood tall and commanding, watching me from across the terrace. I was wearing my best gown – my cream organza with lace frothing at my sleeves. My parasol was also Belgium lace, threaded with blue silk; there were blue silk ribbons on my bonnet with a mass of pink and cream silk flowers cascading down one side. My gloves were made of fine gauze, my satin shoes also blue, tied with white satin laces and decorated with mother-of-pearl buttons. The next Lady Entworth had obviously passed muster because his smile had broadened when he saw me. Now he was frowning.

  Elizabeth Fox nodded at my whispered question. ‘Yes – the Tregellan Line is gaining quite a reputation. We handle a lot of their shipments…’ She looked over her shoulder, drawing me away. ‘And it’s always the same…a tenth of the cargo must go to charity – though he’ll have to stop that getting quite so known. The owner of the ship is contesting Lord Entworth’s sentence of hanging and deportation of the so-called rioters – he’s absolutely determined to get their convictions over-ruled. We’re drawing up a petition and taking it to the highest court. Matthew Reith says he’ll take the case. There were not fifty people – and it was not a riot.’ She stopped, swallowing hard. ‘Though of course, we don’t know who he is…’

  ‘Yes you do,’ I whispered. ‘He’s Henry Trevelyan – the man everyone’s looking for.’

  ‘Oh…is he?’ She was a terrible liar, but then she probably never lied.

  There was just the right amount of breeze blowing off the river to flutter the huge blue flag flying from the rooftop, but not enough to ruffle the feathers on the guests’ headdresses. Elizabeth’s white bonnet glowed in the sun.

  ‘Is he safe, Elizabeth?’ I whispered.

  She smiled, bringing out her fan, tapping my arm. ‘I don’t know who or what you mean. We have recently learned, however, that if you leave the doors of an empty warehouse open, no one thinks to look inside.’

  William and Frederick were dressed in their cricket clothes and were busy checking the boundaries, Major Trelawney walking stiffly by their sides. They were nodding in agreement but Amelia was shaking her head, pointing five yards further out. The groundsman moved the flags to her obvious satisfaction and the posts were knocked in again.

  ‘I don’t think the match is going to last very long,’ I whispered. ‘Does Mr Fox play?’

  Elizabeth shook her head. ‘I’m afraid not. They’ve already asked him.’

  He was safe. He was in the warehouse, watching them search his ship. He would wait until the last moment and slip across the quayside to board the vessel as she was leaving. My emptiness felt like pain – the pain in his poems. The agony of being separated from the person you loved – the second point of a pair of compasses, bending towards the one you loved, never, ever, letting go.

  Captain Pierre de la Croix was resplendent in his newly laundered French uniform, as Young William held Henry and Charles firmly by the hand. ‘Are you coming, Miss Angel? Oh, sorry…that’s what the servants call you…so sorry.’

  ‘Coming where?’

  ‘To see who that is.’

  A ship was hauling down her sails, inching closer to the jetty. There were men on board, a woman’s beautiful bonnet fluttering with its familiar ribbons, and tears sprang to my eyes. They were coming
– my family was coming. I could see Father’s black jacket and pointed hat, Edgar’s mass of unruly curls. Luke Bohenna was standing ready to throw the rope and Mary was laughing, clapping her hands as the boat pulled alongside. I picked up my skirts and hurled myself across the terrace.

  The path sparkled as I tore down the shrubbery, racing through the rose garden, stopping only to open the gate of the walled garden. I could hear them crunching the shingle and I threw my arms round Edgar, unable to speak. Tears splashed my cheeks as I clasped him to me.

  ‘Steady on, Angelica. A man can’t take this sort of emotion.’ But he was smiling, and so was Father. He was undoing the buttons of his jacket, handing it to Mary, rolling up his sleeves as was Luke Bohenna behind him.

  All of them, stripping off their jackets, their shirts catching the sun. ‘We’re here to play cricket,’ said Father. ‘I hope we’re not too late.’

  Edgar strode ahead, turning back to call to me, ‘I hope those tears aren’t because we’ve already lost.’

  ‘No…no…you’re just in time. They’re just about to start. Lady Clarissa will be so pleased to see you.’

  I watched them striding up the path, bumping into Young William and his two charges. I saw my family, reaching down, swinging the boys up on to their shoulders, walking to the terrace, each one of them a giraffe, and I turned to the wall, gripping my fists to my mouth. I needed time to compose myself, I needed time to breathe, to hide the disappointment ripping through me.

  There was a crunch on the shingle, footsteps crossing the beach, and I wiped away my tears, afraid to be seen like this. Someone was coming into the walled garden and I turned round ready to don my mask, but caught my breath. Henry was holding out a posy of Angelica flowers and I ran to him, throwing my arms round him – the same wet hand in a soaking sleeve, reaching out to give me his rain-drenched posy, only today it was glorious sunshine and I could see his face. The face I loved.

  ‘It’s only ever been you,’ he whispered.

  ‘Angelica – you knew the flowers were Angelica?’

  ‘I thought we might be too late for the funeral but I wanted your mother to take Angelica flowers with her. I admired your mother so much. I believe she knew all along my grandfather was guilty yet she gave us alms. She wasn’t going to let a child bear the sins of his father.’

  I lifted the flowers to inhale their scent. ‘What did you say to Father – that day you went to him? What did you say that made him so angry?’

  He held me tightly, drawing me to him as if he would never let me go. ‘I didn’t say anything – at first. But he must have sensed something in the way I spoke about you. He wheedled it out of me…and before I knew it, I was telling him how much I loved you – and that I wanted to marry you.’

  Those words, those wonderful words, said with such love. ‘And he threw you out?’

  His arms tightened. ‘Yes – really very forcibly. He told me I didn’t stand a chance. You were engaged to a lord and were soon to join the peerage and that if I did really love you, I’d leave you alone and never pester him or you again.’

  ‘He was lying…’

  ‘He was protecting you, and quite rightly, too. I had nothing to offer – no name, no money, no way of giving you what you deserved. Anyone could see you were destined to shine and I understood exactly what he meant. I had nothing to offer, nothing at all.’

  I belonged in those strong arms. How I belonged. ‘Why did you come back, now, after so long?’

  ‘I wasn’t going to come back – not until I had rid myself of the longing. I was angry and hurt, furious that your father hadn’t even given me the time of day. I was afraid to come back and explain where my ship had come from. I thought it would add to my already dubious reputation, but there I was in a new land with a fast ship. I had been given the chance to make good and I worked night and day to make it happen. I saw opportunities and I took them, driven by your father’s taunts. Once I’d sold the ship, I felt differently. I had more than given back what I had been given but I still couldn’t bring myself to tell Mother the source of the money I sent back for my sisters.’

  ‘I’d have done just the same. I’d have taken the ship – the money had all been paid back. The punishment had been served.’

  He held my hand to his lips, kissing it softly through my fine gauze gloves. ‘I love the way you jump to my defence – just like you jumped to Edgar’s. Watching you plead was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.’ He kissed my hand again. ‘Then, one day I got a letter from my mother – one glorious spring morning and I knew…or least, I hoped…I so fervently hoped I’d been given a second chance. I arranged a shipment of wheat and I stood on that deck praying I wasn’t too late. Mother said you had sent her a shawl, that you weren’t married, and that you were called Miss Angel by the people of Truro. Angelica, I couldn’t get here fast enough, but when I did, I realized I was too late. You were engaged – your father had found you your lord.’

  ‘I was never engaged to him – he’s waiting to ask me now. I don’t know who sought who, but it’s a purely a financial arrangement on his part. He wants discounts on every smelting deal and money off his shipping costs.’

  He smiled that rueful smile, the corners of his mouth lifting just a fraction. ‘I think that’s because his shipping costs are rather expensive,’ he said, kissing my palm again.

  ‘Double them, Henry.’

  ‘I have done.’ Across the garden we could see Moses dressed in his best clothes, opening the top vents of the glasshouse. ‘By the way, Admiral Penrose has rather a lot of plant troughs cluttering his deck – and three very shame-faced passengers.’

  ‘Three? George Godwin and Lottie Lorrelli?’ ‘Fortunately, George Godwin suspected nothing. Daniel Maddox’s ship briefly docked at Falmouth and George Godwin was seen to step aboard. Either he was going to see the gold safely deposited or he was leaving with Maddox – though I rather think someone like George Godwin would stay and find some other way to steal.’

  ‘Lottie Lorrelli was with him?’

  Henry nodded. ‘Dressed as a man. Admiral Penrose followed them out of the harbour and HMS Circe opened her gun ports – and there’s not a lot you can do if one of His Majesty’s finest frigates opens her gun ports and signals you to stop.’

  The first sound of leather on willow; a round of applause. Henry held out his arm and we started walking back through the herb garden with the lavender spilling over the path, under the wrought-iron arch with the scent of honeysuckle, passing through Charity’s rose garden with its heady perfume, stopping where we had stopped what seemed like a lifetime ago.

  ‘Have you told your mother about the Dolphin?’

  He nodded. ‘And I’ve told your father. He listened very attentively this time – he even said he’d have done the same.’ He smiled and I thought my heart would burst. ‘Then he asked if there was some way I might reduce his harbour fees.’

  I burst out laughing. ‘He didn’t! I hope you said no!’

  ‘I said I’d think about it and I’d let him know.’ He laughed and drew me to him, putting his finger under my chin, lifting it gently, and I looked into the glasses I loved so well. His eyes held mischief as I knew they would.

  ‘You must know we’re in great danger, Angelica.’

  ‘Are we?’ I whispered, every nerve tingling, every bone in my body weakening.

  ‘The interference of woodland sprites can cause great mischief. They make their potions strong because they expect them to work. They like total enchantment, no half measures.’ His voice was soft, his eyes burning. ‘Puck might be watching, Oberon and Titania fighting over you this very minute. I think I had better kiss you, Angelica…and I think I need to make it look real.’

  Epilogue

  Truro Theatre, High Cross, Truro

  December 20th 1796

  Dearest Angelica and Molly,

  The performance starts at 7:30 p.m. Come round the back for 6:30. – Theo will be waiting.

  Your
s in anticipation,

  Kitty Gilmore

  20, High Street, Falmouth

  December 21st 1796

  Dear Lady Clarissa,

  It gives me the greatest pleasure to accept your kind invitation to join you at the theatre on Saturday, and afterwards for a reception at Town House.

  Yours sincerely,

  Luke Bohenna

  Perren Place, Pydar Street, Truro

  December 22nd 1796

  Dearest Lady Clarissa,

  You are extremely kind, but my husband is insistent we pay for the new glasshouse. Do you think encasing it in wire might work this time? I look forward to seeing you on Saturday.

  With warmest regards,

  Mary Lilly

  Trenwyn House, Trenwyn

  December 23rd 1796

  Dear Mrs Penhaligan,

  I will not hear otherwise – in view of this snow, you must allow us to collect you tomorrow. My coach will arrive at six o’clock.

  Yours in friendship,

  Clarissa Carew

  My planning had gone so smoothly. The whole family together for Christmas: Lady Clarissa would ensure Amelia and Luke spent the evening together and Mary had promised me Father would never know how much this new greenhouse cost.

  The Love Poems of John Donne lay open in my hands and already I had them by heart; every line on every page, just like my dearest husband. A fire was blazing, the room warm despite the snow covering the streets outside. Henry took the book from me, blowing out the candle. His arms were warm, the pillow soft; moonlight streaming through the window. Firelight flickered round the room, red shadows dancing across the ceiling. A loud purr rang from the bottom of the bed and tiny feet jumped on to the eiderdown, turning round in circles. I threw back the covers, and reached for my shawl.

  ‘It’s such a beautiful night, Henry. The moon’s so bright and it’s glinting on the snow…come and see.’

  Henry shook his head, smiling as he followed me to the window. ‘She’s just where you left her, my love,’ he whispered as we gazed down to the quayside. Our new ship, Jane O’Leary, shimmered in the moonlight and my heart leapt with joy.