‘I shall consider it, thank you. My cousin, Mr Pengarron, was only saying last week we should have some animals about the house.’
He smiled his soft smile.
Cordelia became aware of how he was looking into her eyes and that she was doing the same into his. He was virtually a stranger, yet she felt at ease in his company.
Then she remembered Alicia. ‘Oh, I really must go! I’ve deserted Mrs Rosevear and she is walking back alone. It’s been – goodbye, Mr Kinver.’
‘I’m going home to the smallholding. May I not go along with you part of the way, Miss Drannock?’
There were improprieties and implications to consider, but suddenly Cordelia did not care about them. She was tired of being thought of as a ‘dear little thing’, she was tired of being indulged as if she was still a child and, most of all, she was tired of being ignored.
‘Well, you have to walk along the same path, so of course you may.’
They walked off, enjoying more conversation. When he offered her his arm, she accepted it.
Twenty-Two
The same afternoon, another young woman was fainting and another was holding flowers.
Rosie Renfree was in St Piran’s church, on her knees, lying limply over the communion rail. When she came to, her vision clearing slowly, she didn’t know where she was, then with a groan she recognized the colourless stone flags she was looking down on. Her head buzzed frighteningly. Somehow she dragged herself up on to leaden feet. The shawl around her shoulders had fallen off and she was cold, shivering uncontrollably.
Staggering to the front pew, the Pengarron pew, which she wouldn’t even have dared touch before this, she fell down on it, clinging to the figure of the patron saint carved in the dull wood at its end. Bowing her head she wept wretchedly, hoping desperately no one would come inside.
Her lips trembling, she repeated her earlier prayers. ‘Please God, I’m sorry for sinning against You and Matthias and the children. I am utterly lost if You don’t forgive me. I swear I’ll never commit the abominable sin of adultery ever again. I beg You, forgive me also for sinning against Lady Pengarron. I couldn’t confess this to anyone, not even the Reverend Lanyon, even if he wasn’t Sir Oliver’s son-in-law. It’s too terrible, too wicked!’
She repeated the prayer twice. She had committed the sin three times and felt she must. Racked with guilt after her first coupling with Sir Oliver, she had sworn she’d never do it again. But when her lover had crept up behind her in a secluded spot in the rambling farmyard, and softly put his arms around her and nestled his mouth on the back of her neck, she had turned round to him at once. Renouncing the devil and taking an oath of penitence and carrying Matthias’s Bible everywhere she went, had not saved her a third time.
Yesterday, Oliver had met up with her at Marazion market after she had completed the business of selling her own eggs and other produce and, as fate would have it, the dairymaid she had taken with her so as not to be alone, had given her the slip to meet her own favourite.
As if she had no will of her own, no tongue with which to deny him, she had allowed Oliver to take her to a large house in the town. Whose it was or exactly where it was located she couldn’t remember now. Only that he had said they were in no danger of being discovered, and he, pleased at the prospect of making love in comfort for a prolonged period, had plied her affectionately with gifts and compliments and tender encouragements to undress completely and give herself to him without reserve. He had taught and she had learned. To her everlasting dishonour, he had taught her to touch and kiss in ways she had not even imagined before. To her bitter shame, after her preliminary uncertainties, she had enjoyed every moment.
Now for the remainder of her life, she would bear the invisible stain of deceitfulness and corruption. She deserved it, welcomed it. She wanted to be punished. What she was finding unendurable was her betrayal of her gentle and loving husband, a committed Christian, who ministered to an ever increasing flock of members at the Methodist meeting house: tinners, fisherfolk, farm labourers and estate workers, the destitute and dying, people who called him Preacher Renfree.
She had no idea how long she had been inside the church, she must hasten home, before Matthias became worried and sent someone looking for her. Drying her tears of repentance, making sure her hat was pulled down to conceal her face, she edged out of the church door, through the tiny slate-roofed porch and out of the lychgate. Straight into the path of the Reverend Lanyon and Mrs Lanyon, an unknown gentleman and Sir Oliver.
Crying out, she crumpled against the wrought-iron gate.
‘Rosie!’ Oliver rushed to catch her. ‘What is it? Are you ill?’
In her despair, she tried to push him away from her.
‘Mrs Renfree, do you need the services of the Reverend Lanyon?’ Olivia asked. Handing the bouquet of red roses George Spears had just given her to Timothy, she took Rosie’s hand, pulled off her net glove and began rubbing her wrist. ‘She’s quite overcome, we must take her into the house.’
‘No, please,’ Rosie gasped weakly. ‘’Tis only the heat. I must go. My husband will worry.’
‘It is a soporific day,’ Oliver said, aware of her struggles to free herself from his support, ‘but you are actually cold, Rosie. I’ll carry you into the parsonage and you shall have a hot drink. Miss Nancy Wills can attend you in the kitchen, if you prefer.’
Rosie had no choice but to capitulate, she would be too weak to ride for several minutes. ‘Yes, yes, that will do, thank you. I don’t want to be a bother. I’m feeling better already,’ she lied, and afraid Oliver would carry her and she would be brought into contact with his masterful body, she added swiftly, ‘I can walk, please, I am quite embarrassed.’
Olivia took precedence and escorted her into the kitchen. Seated in Nancy Wills’ comfortable chair, she sipped steaming hot tea, laced with honey. Nancy prepared a cloth soaked in lavender water for her forehead, and while tip-toeing about her domain, told Rosie the reason for George Spears’s presence at the parsonage.
‘I wish Mrs Lanyon well,’ Rosie said, not caring the slightest.
She slipped away ten minutes later, riding at a slow trot to clear her mind. When on Ker-an-Mor land, the sound of the distant sea was a little comforting and she closed her eyes, letting the pony walk on.
Her eyes snapped open a second later and she turned round at the sound of heavy hoof beats. She knew who it would be before the rider came into view, and although dismayed, perhaps it was best she talk to Oliver. She dismounted beside a stand of oak trees, which gave welcome shelter from the tortuous heat.
Oliver left Gereint at a short distance and walked up to her. ‘Rosie, my dear, I was concerned for you. As soon as I was able I excused myself. You have no need to tell me why you were so distressed. It’s all my fault, you would never have been tempted if I had not encouraged you.’
‘I knew exactly what I was doing, Oliver. But it must never happen again. I love Matthias. There was no excuse to stray from him and somehow I must make amends.’
‘I’m so very sorry, Rosie. I’ll keep away from Ker-an-Mor for a long while. If it’s agreeable with Matthias, Shelley can become even more involved with the business side of things. That should make it easier for you.’
‘Thank you, it will make my burden lighter. You haven’t been home for some time. Will you go there now?’
‘Yes. I thought at the Midsummer Night’s ball that I might return there, but Kerensa had already arranged to stay at Tolwithrick and didn’t seem interested in changing her plans. It will, of course, take more than a social event to put things right between us.
‘You know the whole story, Rosie. I felt betrayed by her, but I should not have allowed my jealousy to show in such strength and so publicly. I do understand, from her perspective, that what I did to Kane and Harry is an entirely different matter. It won’t be easy to become reconciled with Kerensa, and that is what I want more than anything. I love her so very much. I can’t bear this loneliness wi
thout her. She loves me still, well, a part of me, I hope. She’s distant in so many ways now. I irritate her. She examines and judges everything I do and say. When we first quarrelled, she told me that she saw me as small, and that is exactly how she makes her feel now.’
‘And that doesn’t rest easy with you, does it? You’ve had your own way all your life.’
Only a friend, a confidante, a lover, could say something like that to Sir Oliver Pengarron. ‘Yes, I am desperate to regain her respect.’
‘Oliver, you don’t often listen to anyone, but will you allow me to tread where even an angel would fear to? Me, the woman who’s been closest to you in a certain way, except for Kerensa?’
‘Have your say, Rosie, please do. I need to hear some plain speaking. I thought Kerensa would soon come running back to me, but I treated her with too much disrespect, and now I’m at a loss as to what to do.’
‘It’s very simple. You must understand Kerensa’s feelings for Clem. A first love is a strong love. She didn’t break her pledge to Clem, you came between them.’
‘Simple? Understand that she loves another man, one she professes to have emptied out of her heart long ago?’ This was the last piece of advice he was expecting. ‘You ask too much. God save me, but I wish your brother dead! If I find out he’s been having an affair with Kerensa I’ll kill him, I swear nothing will stop me.’
‘Then it’s no wonder you are the cause of your own misery. Can you not see it? What if they are having an affair? Is gaining retribution on Clem more important than regaining Kerensa? You say you love her more than anything. How do you? Even now, you’re letting your jealousy rule you. Before you found Clem’s love tokens, you couldn’t even bear to think Kerensa might have kept even the slightest affection for him. You can’t demand that much of people, Oliver. We all have the right to our own feelings, indeed we cannot help them. And have you not been unfaithful to Kerensa? You very quickly took me to your bed, without a thought for her or Matthias. You’re eaten up with gall just thinking she might have been untrue, while you went ahead and did the wicked deed moments after she left your presence. You couldn’t help your feelings then, could you? Didn’t even try.
‘If you really want to win her back then use your great intelligence to do it. You must forget your hatred of Clem and forget your jealousy, but first…’ Rosie swallowed, should she go even further? He had been her lover but he was still her lord and master.
He pursed his mouth, eyes set grim, ‘First?’
‘First let your heart grow to the size where it can accommodate Kerensa’s feelings for my brother, even if they have grown too close since he’s been at Vellanoweth. Clem will soon be returning home. Perhaps you should have a word with him, a public word. A clever word.’
Oliver gazed at her, made his eyes widen, sighed and shook his head.
‘I know it asks a lot of you. It’s your decision. Your life. Your happiness. I’m going home to my husband now, he’s worth everything in the world to me, he’s my future. I’ll leave you to think about yours.’
* * *
Rosie’s brother and niece were washing their hands at the iron pump in Vellanoweth’s yard. Clem had been holding the head of a cantankerous billy goat while Jessica had given him a purge.
‘That’ll teach the old misery not to break free and drink the starch for my linen.’
Jessica dried her hands and hugged her father. ‘I’ll miss you when you go home, Tas. Sell Greystone’s Farm and come back to the Bay. I hate you being so far away. I’m sure Catherine would like to be back near her brother.’
‘I’d love to, sweetheart, but Philip wouldn’t have that. Your stepmother and me and the twins will come back before Christmas, I promise.’
‘Livvy must be somewhat excited today. I hope this George Spears character likes her paintings.’
Receiving no answer, she stared into her father’s face. She was used to his silences, when he went off into his own thoughts. Before, he had always looked drawn, morose, sadly lost, now his eyes were bright and he was smiling from somewhere deep within. There was only one person in the whole world who could make him look like this. Jessica was deeply worried.
She shook his arm. ‘Your bed wasn’t slept in last night, nor many a night before. Where do you go?’
‘What a strange question.’ He wiped his hands down his shirt front to dry them. ‘I’ve always gone off to be alone, you know that. I miss my dogs, it’ll be good to have their company again.’
Jessica flicked a fly away from her. ‘But whose company have you been keeping? My mother-in-law’s?’
‘Don’t be foolish.’ Clem gave a sharp laugh.
‘Oh, Tas, you’re seeing her, aren’t you?’
‘Oh, look, Kane’s managed to get to the doorway, and he’s got Harry with him.’
Jessica waved to Kane. He was regaining his strength quickly now the infection in his leg was finally gone. He was leaning on crutches, and had Harry tied to his body in the same manner Jessica did. ‘We’re on our way in, dearest,’ she called out, but she had not finished with her father. ‘Dear God, don’t you know what danger you’re in? Sir Oliver will flay you alive!’
‘He can try. I hope he does. Then Kerensa will start to hate him.’
‘She won’t leave him. He wouldn’t let her.’
‘He’s got no hold over her.’
‘She wouldn’t leave Samuel.’
‘I haven’t asked her to. Do you think I’d leave John and Flora? I have more love for my children than he has for his. I don’t behave in a manner that could kill them.’
‘What about Catherine?’
‘Jessie, I’m doing nothing wrong. And I’m eager to see Catherine again. I’d like to stay on and help with the harvest here but I’ve my own fields to see to, and now Kane’s so much better, I’d be getting in the way.’
‘Yes, it’s time you were leaving us.’
Jessica led the way indoors, regretting her need to have her father close all these weeks, and she wished, how she wished she had not challenged him over her suspicions. She kept nothing from Kane. What would he say, how would he feel about what his mother and her father were doing? Jessica was scared, if Kane told Sir Oliver…
* * *
Kerensa was in the manor gardens, playing a hide and seek game with Samuel. She had hidden three tin soldiers under the bushes and he was running about, squeaking with delight as he looked for them.
‘Be careful you don’t scratch your face on the twigs,’ she called to him. The two soldiers he had already found were in her hand. He was taking a long time finding the third and for several seconds she had not heard his excited voice.
‘Sam? Samuel, where are you? Shout to Mama. Do you want me to help you?’
The silence continued. She listened for him. There was the sound of Beatrice bawling at someone in the kitchen. Clip, clip. An under-gardener was trimming an ornamental hedge round the side of the house. Next came a bark from Rex. But no answer from Samuel.
‘Sam! Tell Mama where you are.’
She weaved her way in and out of the shrubs, darting round to the rose garden, back again to the rug, where the rest of his toys lay forsaken. The garden furniture, where they were shortly to have tea together, before he went up for his bath in the nursery, was undisturbed. ‘Sam!’
Panic rose in her. Her youngest son was wilful at times and would often hide away, but he had never kept quiet this long.
She tore off to find him, was about to shout his name again when she heard his voice, loud and excited and chuckling with gusto. Wherever he had wandered off to, he was now only on the other side of a massive hydrangea. She ran round it.
‘There you are—’ she stopped in her tracks. ‘Oh, you’re with Papa, I thought you’d got lost.’
Oliver was crouching down, tickling his son, the reason for the chuckles. Samuel liked to play rough and suddenly whacked his father on the head. Kerensa laughed and Oliver laughed, pretending it hurt him.
�
��Right then, you little ruffian.’ Lifting him up high above his head, Oliver whirled Samuel round and round until, quite breathless, he set the boy on his shoulders.
‘He’s the roughest and the toughest of our brood,’ Oliver said to Kerensa. ‘Don’t you think?’
He was looking at her with his great dark eyes, a soft look, studying her. Alert to what his intentions might be, she answered, ‘It’s true to say he wears me out more quickly than the others.’
Samuel held out the third soldier to Kerensa. ‘Ah, clever boy.’
‘You’ve been playing hiding the soldiers. Kane and Luke both liked that game. You are well, Kerensa?’
She walked round the bush to the rug and Oliver kept pace with her.
‘Yes, thank you. How went it for Olivia with Mr Spears? I’ve been on tenterhooks all day for her. Have you come with news?’
Oliver had to think hard for a moment. After his harrowing talk with Rosie and the painful suggestions she had made, the interview with the artist seemed hours and hours ago. ‘He did not mince his words. He thought much of her work juvenile and cared not at all for her land- and seascapes.’
‘Oh, poor Livvy. She must be feeling distraught. It’s a good thing she has a child to look forward to.’
‘Hold there, my dear,’ Oliver smiled engagingly. ‘He did however approve of her portraiture. Said it showed a certain fluency and promise and boldness, and some other such language his ilk uses. He plans to stay in Cornwall another week or so, says he’s very taken with the particular light of the county and its spectacular views, and he has kindly said he’ll allow time to give Livvy instruction.’
‘That’s wonderful.’ Kerensa clapped her hands, and Samuel copied her and sang an appropriate nursery rhyme. ‘She must be delighted.’
‘Yes, she is, but disappointed about the other things he said. I think it will work well for her and Timothy as a couple, she won’t be traipsing about the countryside so often now.’
Pengarron Dynasty Page 17