‘I agree we must be careful,’ Luke was suddenly impatient, ‘but on the other hand it was common knowledge that Jack and I were about to return home for my nephew’s baptism. My father’s reputation for family observances and loyalty is well known. The Society has no need to assume you went with us, Alicia. Indeed, they’ll think you perished along with Alexander. Remember that diamond necklace you were wearing the night of the fire? You think you lost it in the melee, but I took it off your neck and placed it on your maid’s. Her clothes will have been burnt off, no one will believe that you survived.’
‘Say no more.’ Alicia had rammed her hands over her ears. Jack had flown to her and she had turned to him, sobbing. ‘This is not a game. Alex is dead. The Society is extremely dangerous, they never forgive and they’ll do anything to protect their interests.’
‘Hush, now. Luke and I have vowed to protect you, Alicia.’ Jack held her close. ‘No one will hurt you, you can trust us.’
Alicia pulled away from him and faced Luke squarely. ‘I thank you for all your considerations, Luke, but I can’t accept them. To ensure that I and you and Jack are in the least possible danger, from now on I must live simply as a groom’s wife, as Mrs Jack.’
Since then she had lived in the tiny cottage with the extra comforts sent round by Lady Pengarron and the extravagant things Luke had provided under the guise of wedding presents. He’d had his way, after all.
A young child’s voice floated towards her on the warm, dry air. Master Samuel Pengarron was heading her way on his sturdy legs, and with him the one member of the genteel family who, after an initial mutual reserve, she had something of a friendship with. Miss Cordelia Drannock made a point of calling on her every day and Alicia looked forward to her visits.
‘Good morning, Mrs Jack,’ Cordelia hailed her in her unsure voice. ‘I went first to the cottage, but I should have known I’d find you here while the fine weather lasts.’
‘Oh?’ Alicia rose and dropped a perfect curtsey. Cordelia motioned for her to sit down again and joined her on the bench. ‘Are we to expect rain then, Miss Drannock?’
‘Just a light shower or two this afternoon, I should think, but a heavy downfall tonight. It should be fine for Master Harry’s baptism on Sunday afternoon. You missed attending church last week – understandable that you should desire more rest – but you’ll find it a splendid occasion. St Piran’s is small, but my uncle’s patronage sees it’s kept in excellent repair.’
‘I shall go to matins with Jack, although I confess I am not keen to attend this Methodist meeting house which he has an interest in, but surely I’m not to be invited to the baptism? It will be for the gentry only.’
Alicia had sewn a cloth ball for Master Samuel, and anticipating this visit produced it from her apron pocket and held it out towards him. Already a few inches taller than the average child of his age, having inherited his father’s advantageous height, he ran up to her, chuckling, said thank you in toddler-talk, then tossed it up in the air.
‘That was very kind of you,’ Cordelia said. ‘Of course you will be at the baptism. The whole estate and parish will turn out for it. My uncle will lay on a feast here, another in the village of Perranbarvah and another on Ker-an-Mor, the home farm. Not a soul will be left out, and illness or infirmity apart, my uncle will see it as an affront if anyone does not attend.’
‘I see.’ The Pengarrons would be the main spectacle, but Alicia felt anxious about being on public display. ‘I can see why my dear Jack was so anxious to return home and have me meet his friends.’
‘I wish my cousin had missed all of us as much,’ Cordelia said forlornly, causing Alicia to look at her downcast face. ‘Tell me, Mrs Jack, did Jack ever mention why Mr Pengarron had failed to visit his two cousins in London, my elder brothers, Mr Charles and Mr Jack Drannock? Was he too busy, do you think?’ Samuel was trying to knock buds off a tree with the ball.
‘Sammy, dear, be gentle now.’ The child stopped, grinned cheekily and carried on as before.
‘I recall no mention of those names,’ Alicia said. ‘I didn’t know you had brothers. You must miss them.’
‘I have another brother, the eldest of the family, Bartholomew. He left the estate many years ago to travel the world and I’ve not seen him since. I also have two married sisters with children of their own, Hannah and Naomi. They have also moved out of the county and I’ve stayed with them occasionally. Now I’m too busy looking after Master Samuel to go far.’
‘Master Samuel is a wonderful little boy. Now I am expecting a happy event, perhaps we could swap notes on child care.’ Alicia had never taken care of a child in her life, but she had the art of making a conversant believe whatever she wanted them to. Anything she learned from Cordelia would be useful for her impending motherhood.
‘Yes, indeed. If I may say,’ and Cordelia blushed, ‘you and Jack are obviously a love match. Did… did Mr Luke meet anyone special while in London?’
Jack had filled Alicia in on Cordelia’s background. Born to a poor fisherman, who had turned out to be Sir Oliver’s half-brother, something Sir Oliver had not known himself until after the unfortunate fisherman had been lost in a storm at sea, Cordelia had lived at the manor since her mother’s untimely death. It had not taken long for Alicia to see that Cordelia, a thoroughly likeable little soul, transparent and honest, her accent very much like Lady Pengarron’s, in pointing to her origins, did not entirely fit into her uplifted station, that she felt gauche and uneasy around men, and that she was hopelessly in love with Luke.
She said what the other young woman wanted to hear, ‘No, Miss Drannock, he didn’t seem to enjoy much of London at all, and I can vouchsafe he spent very little time with any lady. He enjoyed the theatre, was always enthusiastic about the plays.’ She added swiftly, ‘So Jack informed me.’
‘He’s been offhand, secretive and more bad-tempered than usual since his return. He’s hardly strung two sentences together for me, and we used to be so close.’
‘Take heart, Miss Drannock, give him a little more time. I’m sure he just needs to readapt to his old ways.’
What a lot of lies I’ve just told, Alicia reflected. Quite the order of my new life.
Eight
Unaware of the various emotions simmering inside some of those gathered around the ancient granite font, Kane and Jessica Pengarron presented their baby, Harry Oliver Clemow to God, the Reverend Timothy Lanyon and the invited assembly.
While having a fondness for his daughter-in-law, Oliver felt it a pity Kane had fallen in love with her. He was furious his grandchild should bear Clem Trenchard’s name. Trenchard was behaving as the wretch should, humbly, politely detached towards Kerensa, attentive to his own wife. He had better not step out of line, not once!
Oliver stood slightly in front of Kerensa. He knew she was vexed about it, but he had the right to keep Trenchard out of her line of vision.
Luke was bored and irritable, and felt aggrieved rather than honoured that he’d be chief godfather, and he mumbled his responses throughout the service. When his brother-in-law mentioned the part about fighting evil and the devil, Luke scanned the cluster of manor servants for Jack and Alicia, anxious to satisfy himself they were safely present, not victims yet of the evil devils they had escaped in London. Why couldn’t he shake off the feeling that they might all still be in danger and why bring the word ‘yet’ to mind? That was a worry on its own.
It was a hot steamy day, stifling and airless inside the church, and although Luke was near the door, a sudden wave of claustrophobia threatened to overwhelm him. In a vivid flashback he saw the town house in St James’s Street on fire. He felt himself running towards it, saw Jack frantically keeping apace. He smelled the thick smoke and felt the scorch of the flames. He heard the desperate screams and the cries for help.
He realized that a small gloved hand was holding his and it brought him back to the present.
Staring down, he saw his mother had forsaken his father’s side. Her l
ips were moving, but at first he was incapable of understanding her words. Then he made out her whisper, ‘Do you want to go outside?’
He shook his head. Faced straight ahead. Took a deep breath back to composure.
Kerensa had to force her hand out of Luke’s crushing grip or a cry of pain would have been inescapable. She and Oliver had tried to talk to Luke about his experiences in London, more in an interested way than as an examination, but each time he insisted there was little to report. Always he had looked harsh, angry, resentful.
She became aware that Oliver was watching her, a grave scrutiny for a moment, then his expression lightened. Mood swings, such as she had endured in their early days together. Those old, cruel cat and mouse games. It was as if time had regressed twenty-four years. And gallingly, somewhat pathetically, just because Clem was back in Mount’s Bay. Several times since Oliver’s apparent clash with him, she had felt her husband’s eyes piercing into her, as if in accusation. He had no reason to be jealous – but she had no doubt that this was the trouble.
From here she was directly across the font from Clem. On one side of him was Catherine, on the other his sister, Rosie, and her husband, Matthias Renfree. The Renfrees’ and Catherine’s eyes were also occasionally aimed her way. She was mindful to attend only to the proceedings, while casting anxious glances at Luke.
Careful to keep smiling, Catherine was comparing herself to her husband’s first love, his great love. Catherine accepted, in all grace, that she, herself, would only ever look nicely presentable in the finest apparel, while the other woman would look gorgeous in rags. Even though the baronet’s wife was seven years older than she was, she could be a sister to her two lovely daughters.
How did Clem find her? He had mentioned her only in regard to the baptism. Given her only a respectful bow when arriving at the church.
Her brother was intoning, ‘I name you Harry Oliver Clemow, in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen.’
Clem turned straight to her and smiled affectionately, and she melted with happiness there on the spot. She had just received a public declaration of his love.
Cordelia had again taken charge of Samuel. Her aunt had objected at first, saying she wanted Samuel with her throughout the service, but Cordelia had pleaded the boy’s adventurousness. Her uncle had agreed with her, and she stood now, with Samuel wriggling and trying to free his hand from hers. A short time ago her aunt had changed position to comfort Luke. A strange affair. Luke was usually in total control. Why didn’t Luke want her own company any more? I don’t care, Cordelia tried to convince herself.
It had taken much persuasion on Jack’s part to get Alicia to attend the church today. She had argued that the parson and the Pengarrons wouldn’t want her there if they knew her true circumstances. That is was possible that someone among the gentry might recognize her.
‘But that’s all in the past. You’re my wife now, you’ve a new future,’ Jack had said. ‘’Tis not very likely anyone down here’s connected to the Society. ’Twas only Luke’s headstrong nature that got him involved in their clubs.’ His final inducement had been the suggestion that they remain in the church after the ceremony to say private prayers for Lord Alexander. Her constant lament was not having been able to attend his funeral.
Jack had wanted to show off his lovely bride, unconcerned now after his initial misgivings about her carrying another man’s baby. With Lord Longbourne dead there would be no complications. Only one thing could make him happier and that would happen in due time. Although he was thinking about this delicate matter in the church, of all places, he was confident that when the time arrived, he would take Alicia in mastery and sensitivity, thanks to his seduction by the Countess of Kilwarth, and their subsequent unions. Until London, his previous experience had amounted to one failed encounter with a whorish bal maiden.
When Luke started to cough he kept his eyes on him.
Alicia, too, was watching Luke, sorry for his discomfort. Would he allow her one small, private favour? In a quiet corner of the graveyard, a proper, although anonymous, memorial to Alex.
Luke tried a deep breath to stop himself coughing, but was unsuccessful. The hacking sounds echoed from pillar to pillar, seemingly from each individual granite stone.
Timothy Lanyon had nearly completed the service but paused in respect of his brother-in-law’s distress.
Luke reached for his handkerchief, his eyes watering, breathing noisily. ‘I’m sorry.’
He met Kane’s gaze across the font. No! He wanted none of the concern shown in those soft brown eyes. Damn Kane. He and Jessica made a striking couple, full of health and purpose. He, straight and commanding, neat reddish-brown hair, his work-roughened hands claiming how content he was to work his own land. She, vivacious, strong in spirit, a mass of golden curls cascading below her simple beribboned hat.
Olivia had crept round to his side. When he felt her hand massaging his back he was livid that she should treat him as an invalid, embarrass him in front of society and the rabble. He had to get away, but the churchyard was choked with more gawping estate workers and villagers. Pushing roughly through the family party, his handkerchief to his mouth, he hastened up the aisle to the vestry. A long humiliating journey.
Leading Alicia by the hand, Jack skirted the packed pews and benches and those standing in the congregation, and caught up with him at the tiny arched door. He closed it behind them. Luke sat down on the single hard chair. Alicia poured him water, from the tray set out in the event any of the gentry had such a need.
Luke sipped, his hand shaking. ‘Thank you. If only I could escape this damned place!’
‘Stay here ’til everyone’s gone,’ Jack said, sensitive enough not to stare into his red face.
‘I didn’t mean the church.’ He looked moodily about the cramped confines, then swore shockingly. ‘The register will have to be signed.’
‘Only the reverend and the captain and Sir Oliver need come in here.’
‘We’ve got to get away again, Jack. Or I’ll go mad.’
‘But I—’
‘Shut up!’
Luke knew what Jack’s protest involved. His parents’ disapproval and the thought of leaving his new wife. Jack had not merely fallen in love with Alicia, he had plummeted down an abyss of adoration and not a little lust.
Luke stared at her. She was standing at a discreet distance. Her clothes of powder blue and fawn were of a quality and style suited to her reduced status, but it was impossible to mask her graceful deportment and handsome face. Her hair, although mainly hidden by a delicate straw affair and a lace snood at the back, was a golden sheen of feminine wile and beauty. She was spring and summer, promise and hope.
Where could he find himself such a woman? He was suddenly wildly jealous of Jack’s fabulous gain and the rights and privileges that went with it. She never made a man feel less of himself by inappropriate fussings. When the grieving for her lover was over, she was going to make an ideal mate.
God, why didn’t I marry her? At least it would have given me something else to think about.
Pain stabbed through Luke’s crippled arm and he groaned in misery. ‘Don’t worry, Jack, the three of us will go away together. And soon. On that I am adamant.’
Nine
Go and speak to your brother, Kane,’ Kerensa urged the more agreeable of her elder sons. ‘He’s feeling awful about coughing like that in church.’
‘Feeling awful about making a spectacle of himself, more like,’ Jessica announced tartly.
‘Don’t let him hear you say that,’ Kerensa cautioned. Jessica should show more understanding. Luke was suffering.
‘Where is he anyway?’ Kane was always willing to be on good terms with anyone.
He looked for his brother along the length and breadth of the great hall of the manor house, where a mountainous spread of food, port and wines was laid on for the guests. From portraits ascending the mighty stairs, Pengarron forebears, dating back to Sir Arth
ur, titled in King Henry VIII’s reign, gazed down on the gathering; not, it seemed, in their usual dark-eyed disdain, but with approval at the newest of their prestigious line.
‘If you’re looking for Luke,’ Olivia said, arriving at Kane’s side and fixing Harry, who was reclining wide-eyed in Kerensa’s arms, with an artistic eye, ‘he’s outside in the stable yard with Jack and a few other of the young gentlemen. Harry’s got a fascinating little face. When can I paint him?’
‘Come over to the farm whenever you like,’ Kane replied. ‘Why are they in the stable yard? Has Father placed an interesting piece of horseflesh there?’
‘No, they’re making wagers on the races at Falmouth next week.’
‘Not silly amounts of money, I hope.’ Kerensa frowned.
‘Oh, Mama.’ Olivia tossed her head impatiently.
Oliver joined his family, with him were Kelynen and his closest friends, Sir William and Lady Rachael Beswetherick, landowners of the next parish. Oliver enclosed his married daughter in his arms and spoke in her ear, ‘So, beloved, when are you going to present your mama and I with the next precious little bundle?’
‘There’s plenty of time for that,’ Olivia muttered testily. She was becoming increasingly impatient with this question, asked by just about everyone she encountered nowadays. Damn it, she wasn’t a brood mare. ‘Excuse me, I promised to take a turn round the hall with Mrs Ralph Harrt. She needs an arm to lean on, her arthritic ankles, you know.’
She flounced off to present herself to the middle-aged wife of the local coroner and master of hounds, a woman of sharp tongue and ill-nature whom she would normally shun. She found her husband Timothy in her path, looking at her gravely. Not his habitual animated self.
Olivia met his disapproval at her behaviour with challenge and scorn. They had quarrelled last evening on the matter of her apparent infertility. She had been hurt by the injustice of it, she wasn’t doing anything to prevent conception. Why all this fuss simply because she did not desire the ties of motherhood yet?
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