Pengarron Dynasty

by Pengarron Dynasty (retail) (epub)

  Amy Curnow brought this to Luke’s attention during one of their bedroom unions.

  ‘Mrs Rosevear has made it clear she wants to concentrate on her child after her confinement,’ Luke muttered. His sexual energy satisfyingly used up, he had reached for a page of manuscript and was editing in a better phrase. Lia: Live, I cannot, without my dear Sasken. ‘My cousin will be home soon and the house will be run in her equally well-organized manner.’

  ‘Of course,’ Amy Curnow said quickly. As she always did after their vigorous couplings she was massaging his stiff shoulder, careful not to interfere with his jottings. ‘I weren’t saying nothing ’gainst the young lady. Though Miss Drannock do seem a little unsure of herself at times.’ And sanctimonious in the way of the nervously virginal, Amy Curnow thought spitefully. ‘I do miss her.’

  ‘So do I, very much,’ Luke said truthfully, although he was annoyed at Cordelia’s defection and the fact that she was delaying in answering his letter of repentance.

  The massage done, he gave Mrs Curnow her shilling.

  ‘Thank you, Amy. You do better to ease my pain than any other.’

  ‘I’m some glad of that, sir. Mr Luke…’

  ‘What is it?’ He motioned to her to leave, his play taking over his mind. It was almost finished. When he had written the last word, he would go after Cordelia and apologize again for blaming her, as much as he had her cocksure brother, for Alicia fainting that day. With the air cleared she would come back and life would settle down to normal.

  He had charged Bartholomew, who had turned up with tiresome regularity these past two weeks, to convey his regret to Cordelia every time he left. What more did she want him to do? Why must she play silly female games and go on ignoring him? And damn Bartholomew. Why didn’t he bugger off on his travels again or at least leave Polgissey in peace. He took far too much interest in Alicia. Well, Alicia was married. Bartholomew must think again if he hoped to entice her away from Jack. Strange behaviour for a man who could see the lady was happily awaiting her confinement.

  His thoughts slipped away to Alicia. Apart from an unexplained slip on Midsummer’s Eve, she treated Jack with kindness and respect. She had not set foot outside the grounds since her cliff-top walk, sewing for her baby and visiting the kitchens twice a day. He was no longer suspicious about her, and he no longer wished he had married her. He was happy with the way things were, and would be even more so when Cordelia was back.

  ‘Sir.’ Amy Curnow reminded him she was still there. Attired once more, she was standing in respectful attendance by the door. Not a light-brown hair out of place under its cap, her dextrous hands folded primly in front of her apron. Somehow characterless, but comely, sluttishly comely.

  Luke frowned. ‘Did I not pay you for your consideration?’

  ‘’Tisn’t that. I thought you should know that Morgan Kinver keeps turning up, even when he’s got no business here, asking when Miss Drannock’s coming back. He’s got an eye on her, you see, sir. And, well, I don’t want to be a teller of tales, but did I overhear un ask Mrs Jack to write her for un.’

  ‘I see, you did right to inform me, Amy.’ Luke yawned. ‘Did you overhear Mrs Rosevear’s reply?’

  ‘Aye, sir, she said she couldn’t do that, not her place to and he best forget the young lady.’

  Overcome with an awful weariness, Luke fell back on the pillows and closed his eyes. This news wasn’t anything to worry over. Kinver could be easily dealt with, but perhaps it was a good thing Cordelia was being churlish at the moment. Feeling feebly amidst a handful of coins on the bedside table he tossed one to Mrs Curnow.

  ‘Thank you for your trouble. Close the door quietly behind you.’

  She snatched up the florin where it had landed at the foot of the bed. Passing on information to the young gentleman was going to prove more profitable than servicing him.

  She delayed her departure to watch him sleeping, creeping closer. His breathing was heavy, unwholesome. Shame he didn’t look after himself properly. He was a skilled lover but he was losing his energy, and, worried for her savings for her old age, Mrs Curnow feared he might start losing his desire. His ardent resort to the bottle most nights might steal his good looks. Shame he had a slightly malformed arm, be a greater shame if he ever returned Miss Cordelia’s love. The girl hated her and would soon have her out of the house.

  The cook looked at his writings. It was all a mess of scratchings and ink blots to her. Sheets of expensive paper lay everywhere, in bundles, scattered singly, torn in half, screwed up. The maids weren’t to tidy it up, on pain of death! Shame, such a fine gentleman wasting his time on something so frivolous. Shame, that for so much of the time he was lonely.

  An hour later, Jack sought out Luke on a matter of the estate and decided to let him stay asleep.

  * * *

  Bartholomew arrived and had no such resolve.

  ‘Wake up, Cousin, you have a journey ahead before nightfall. It’s Beatrice’s ninetieth birthday on the morrow, and your father has charged me with summoning you to a party he’s giving for her. All the family will be there, and you can at last meet my daughter. Oh, and he said if you cannot do without Jack and Mrs Rosevear, bring them along too.’

  Twenty-Eight

  A large bruise stained the greater part of Clem’s chin, made all the more obvious by its few days of healing. He looked down at the cause of the disfigurement, his two-week-old granddaughter.

  Content after her early morning feed of goat’s milk, Rebekah Trenchard lay awake and yawning in her cradle.

  While a keen wind hugged the corners of their house, Kenver and Kerris Trenchard were proudly showing her off in the well-ordered kitchen. Kerris reluctantly tore herself away from the baby to rescue her washing from a sudden shower of rain.

  ‘You should’ve told me about her, Kenver,’ Clem huffed over the breakfast Kerris had prepared for them. ‘You’ve learned to write, there’s no excuse.’

  ‘Not this again, Clem,’ Kenver replied patiently. ‘Can’t you be pleased for me and Kerris? You’ve got five children, you know how empty it’s been for us having none. And Rebekah’s not just anybody’s blow-by, she’s got our blood in her.’

  The baby murmured, a soft piping sound, bubbles forming on her tiny lips. Clem’s sternness fell away into a half smile.

  ‘See,’ Kenver said, putting a gentle index finger into his daughter’s grasping fist. ‘You’re beginning to fall under her spell. She’s a charmer.’

  ‘Unlike her real father,’ Clem returned, as if he had ice between his teeth.

  He had arrived home late in the evening – missing Kerensa so much, yet eager to see his family. For the first time, he was seriously pondering why Catherine had been called away from Perranbarvah. Her letters had given no clues. For a short while he had been delighted with the pretty girl-child presented to him as Kenver and Kerris’s, at his homecoming meal. Then the full story had emerged.

  ‘How could you go with that poor girl?’ he stormed at Philip. ‘She was a child, an innocent and you’ve cost her her life! I don’t s’pose for a moment it entered your head to offer her security and marriage, no matter what the condition of her mind. And how could you leave yourself open like that to blackmail?’

  His shouting woke up the baby and she’d cried in fright. Kenver pleaded with Clem to calm down.

  Clem ignored him and grabbed Philip by the coat collars. ‘How dare you involve your stepmother in your sordid doings! You must’ve had her worried out of her mind.’

  Philip’s build and strength outmatched Clem’s and he pushed back hard. ‘Let me go, Father, or you’ll be sorry.’

  ‘It’s you who should be sorry. You’re worse than a bleddy he-goat. You’ve got the devil in you. You’re a disgrace!’ The more Clem went on, the more Philip threatened him. After hurrying John and Flora upstairs, Catherine, scared and weeping, begged Clem to stop and let him go.

  ‘Not until he learns the word honour. From now on—’

  ‘You
can’t order me about!’ Philip snarled, thrusting Clem off him. ‘It’s not you who owns me. You own nothing round here and don’t ever bleddy forget it. I didn’t need you when you was off helping Jessie and I don’t need you now.’ Father and son faced each other like two warring stags, their expressions dark and ugly.

  Clem said cuttingly, ‘But you went whining for help to a woman, after probably raping a helpless girl. You’re no sort of man, Philip Trenchard.’

  ‘And what are you? Living off your wife and your son!’ Catherine and Kerris screamed in unison as Clem swung his hand towards Philip’s face, but Philip moved out of reach with the fleetness of his wrestling expertise and smashed his fist into his father’s jaw. Clem was sent hurtling nearly the length of his sitting room, smacking in to a sideboard and sending the ornaments and other things crashing to the floor.

  Clem was stunned, shocked and horrified at his son’s words and violence. Barely able to get to his feet, rocking and blinking, he wiped at the blood that ran from the corner of his mouth and dripped on to his coat.

  Kenver had wheeled himself and Rebekah to the doorway, out of harm’s reach. He spoke with grim emotion. ‘This is madness, everything’s got out of hand. We’re a family and have a new member in it. It doesn’t matter now who actually fathered Rebekah. She’s here and she needs to be brought up in a loving home, and that’s what me and Kerris are going to do. Philip’s signed her over to us, Clem, and as far as I’m concerned there’s no more to be said.

  ‘You two are going to have to make things up. Think of Catherine, this has been a dreadful experience for her. We shouldn’t have kept you in the dark, Clem. It might have been easier for you if you had known about the baby’s birth, but we thought you had enough on your mind with Jessica, Kane and Harry.’

  Clem said nothing. Glaring with revulsion at Philip, he dodged Catherine’s reaching hands and fell out into the darkness. He heard her shouting after him, but, gathering his three dogs, he went on to the moor, to one of the sheltered spots he favoured to be alone.

  ‘I know Philip’s still refusing to say sorry and ask your forgiveness,’ Kenver said carefully when he had caught up with him, ‘but what’s hurting you the most, Clem? What he did or what he said?’

  ‘I’ve come to terms with Rebekah’s existence, you and Kerris rearing her is the best thing for her. I feel better about the dead girl now I know she’s had a decent burial. What I hate, Kenver, is the fact that a son of mine could take advantage of a half-witted child. As for his jibe about me not owning the farm, of course it’s a blow to my pride, always has been, even though everyone’s been careful not to mention it. I can’t do anything about that, but it’s brought home to me something I must do. I have to get Catherine and the twins away from Philip. If I were to die, they’d be at his mercy. Catherine herself and her money. I don’t doubt for a moment he wouldn’t try to force himself on her. I can’t take that risk.’

  ‘But what will you do? Could you really give up all you’ve worked for here? Speaking plainly, as we are, you’d only have what’s left of Catherine’s settlement. Could you bring yourself to live only off her money while you look for something? To p’rhaps not even be a tenant, but a farmhand? Catherine and the children won’t like living in a tied cottage.’

  ‘I’ve got no choice, Ken, and at least they’ll be safe. I’ll think of something.’

  ‘You…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You aren’t thinking of returning to Mount’s Bay, are you?’

  ‘What if I am? Jessica lives there. I enjoyed working on Vellanoweth. Kane would give me work, and when it comes to my pride, there’s not much difference between working for my son or son-in-law. And Catherine will be near her brother, she’d like that.’

  ‘And Kerensa Pengarron lives round the Bay. Would Catherine like you living near her again?’

  ‘What’re you getting at? Has Catherine said something?’

  ‘Give me credit, Clem, I didn’t just come out of the misty wet. For years I’ve seen you gazing into nothing, your thoughts always in Pengarron Manor; you didn’t stop that just because you moved away. And Catherine doesn’t have to say anything, I’ve seen it in her face every day of your marriage, that she knows she’s second best. Even more so since she came back, leaving you down there. Even Sir Oliver’s letter of apology has been little comfort to her.’

  ‘I told Catherine everything that happened at Vellanoweth. I love Catherine and want for her to feel comfortable.’

  ‘Did you and Catherine talk about Kerensa?’

  Clem gave a smile so guarded that Kenver had no idea what it meant. ‘I worked hard on Vellanoweth, nothing more.’

  ‘Did you see Kerensa alone?’

  ‘For a few odd minutes.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And nothing, Kenver.’

  Kenver shook his white-blond head. ‘I don’t believe you, Clem. Best we say no more about it. So, have you spoken to Catherine about leaving, and have you definitely decided it’ll be the Bay?’

  ‘No, I haven’t spoken of it yet, but I will today. And Kenver, let me assure you that whatever I do, it’ll be for the best for my family.’

  Kenver went to his workshop, sifting through Clem’s statements for the truth and the lies. Somewhat downhearted, while sawing and planing, he contemplated life at Greystone’s without Clem and his second family. Clem was taking away the only playfellows Rebekah was going to have, and while Philip had always been respectful towards him and Kerris, he rarely ventured to see them.

  Kenver’s disability meant he had spent his entire life surrounded by family. He felt a mild panic at the future loneliness, and at how much he would have to rely only on Kerris. Was this fair to her? He made a good living, enough to strike out on his own. Should he leave with Clem? Clem would like that.

  He could keep an eye on Clem. There would be many eyes on him if he returned to Mount’s Bay, particularly a pair of sharp, black ones.

  Twenty-Nine

  Catherine led the way into the sitting room after supper.

  ‘You’ve got something to discuss, my dear?’ She smiled, hoping to lighten Clem’s morose mood.

  Philip, who had not eaten with them, suddenly banged his way out of the kitchen door and she flinched. Then looked uneasily at Clem. He seemed angrier and more impatient than ever with his son. How much longer was she to regret keeping Philip’s sordid secret from Clem? If only she could get one of them to back down, but they bore the same stubborn line.

  ‘We’ve got to leave here, Cathy,’ Clem said suddenly. ‘You do see that?’

  ‘Because of Philip? Surely, you and he will restore your good relationship?’

  Clem explained his reasons. ‘He can’t afford to buy your stake in the place, we’ll just have to leave him with everything.’

  ‘This is all so unsettling, and it’s my fault. I should have told you about Ruth Skewes and the baby.’

  ‘Yes, you should’ve, but it’s brought up these new concerns and I won’t have you and the twins living in possible danger. What to do, where to go, that’s hard to know. I thought I could ask Kane for work, or look for something different, although I don’t know what, I’ve only ever done farming.’ He waved his hand in a deflated way. ‘I’m sorry, Cathy, I’ve given you nothing in our marriage and now there’s all this.’

  ‘If you feel we really must leave here, we can at least afford to buy a house, Clem. I have the means.’

  The whole sordid situation, the injustices of life was getting him down and he snapped, ‘I’m trying to protect your money, not spend it!’

  ‘I’m not taking my children to some poky, ill-made tied cottage,’ Catherine protested indignantly. ‘And we’re man and wife. What’s mine is yours. Can you not see that you’ve worked hard on this farm, that you have an investment in it, that it belongs to you as much as Philip and I? I found the moor disconcerting at first but I’ve come to love this place. It’s isolated but I’ve moved about the area and made friends.
I’m settled and so are the twins. I thought we’d have a lot to live down when Rebekah was born, but in time people will forget.

  ‘Do you really want to leave here, Clem? Or is what you really desire to simply move back to Mount’s Bay?’

  ‘I won’t deny I’d like to live near Jessica. Yes, we have made this place our home, and I’ve felt a sense of freedom here.’ Of a sort he had not experienced under Pengarron’s landlordship. ‘But we must leave because of Philip, and that’s all there is to it.’

  ‘Clem, I know things are difficult for you, and what man wouldn’t be justified with what you’re feeling with Philip’s actions, but I don’t agree with your—’

  ‘There are no buts, Catherine!’

  ‘Yes there are!’

  The frustration was getting too much for her and this became one of those rare occasions when she angrily and emphatically raised her voice. A voice to be attended to, and Clem listened in sullen silence.

  ‘Philip sinned and fathered a child, but that child is now being brought up in a loving and secure home. The mother died in pain and fear, but she’s better off in heaven, never to suffer again by living with a vile mother who sold her body to men. Oh, yes, Clem, it’s true. I’ve made enquiries into the life of the wretched Nollie Skewes. Philip struck you, but it was out of temper and embarrassment, and isn’t it only your pride that’s making you so unforgiving? He has his faults and his constant chasing after women is to be deplored, but he’s been a good son to you, and while I accept your concerns about him, I think you are allowing them to get out of perspective. I’m aware that Philip has looked me over, but that is all, he respects my position as his stepmother.’

  ‘So, I’m just a bloody fool, am I?’

  Catherine ignored his self-pity. ‘There’s one more thing I will say to you, Clem.’

  ‘A pearl of wisdom from the Bible, parson’s sister?’