‘This is indelicate talk, but I will disclose what I witnessed in my home. Clem paid my sister-in-law every attention. He loves her very much. Perhaps it would have helped if Father had known this, but even if I’d had a notion he’d intended to be so belligerent towards Clem, it was hardly a subject I could bring up.’
‘Father should have kept his head, but,’ and Luke was thinking about the caring way he had been allowed his freedom from the estate and encouraged to write his plays, ‘Mama should have trusted him. What saddens me the most, is that after so many happy years together they still do not know each other well enough.’
‘The trouble was,’ Kelynen deliberated, for she had thought it all through, ‘that there was unfinished business between them and Clem. Only they can break down those old chains and heal their marriage. We must stand aside and say and do nothing to hinder them. They studied each other wrong all these years, perhaps we are doing the same to them now.’
‘Well, Miss Clever-little-thing,’ Luke grinned at his youngest sister’s serious expression, ‘first you worry us, then you cheer us and give us hope. Do come here and rub this useless shoulder of mine, and tell me what I must do about Cordelia.’
Putting Gilly on a long lead, which was fastened to a hook on the wall, Kelynen pushed Luke forward to sit up straight, then set to work on his rigid muscles.
‘As usual, I missed the to-do at the supper table; I really must stay around longer. How do you feel about Cordelia? I mean deep down.’
‘Yes, Luke,’ Olivia eased herself down on the old backless chair Kelynen had vacated. ‘Had you no idea at all that she was besotted with you?’
‘No, of course not,’ he protested at what sounded like an accusation. ‘She’s always been like a little sister to me. I only realized she’d grown up yesterday. And before you girls call me heartless, let me tell you I’ve been thinking about her all night. Ah, Kelynen, that’s wonderful, don’t stop! I need to talk to her when Bartholomew isn’t around, he’s set on her bringing up his child, which won’t be easy in view of her colouring. People will either shun Tamara or treat her as a curiosity.’
‘So you have come to a decision?’ Kelynen looked at his face.
‘Yes, I suppose I have.’
‘And?’ Olivia asked eagerly. ‘You’re blushing!’
‘I am not! I value Cordelia more than any woman I know and I need her to be with me. Polgissey would be too lonely without her, and in view of her feelings for me, we cannot be there together unless we are married. In due course, when Cordelia is back and I’ve made myself presentable, I’m going to ask her to marry me.’
‘What’s going on in here? Planning games like the old days?’ Kane appeared smiling in the doorway.
‘We’ve got wonderful news!’ Olivia and Kelynen called out excitedly together.
‘Not as wonderful as mine,’ Kane shushed them with his hands. ‘Mama and Father have just come down to breakfast together. They are reunited, and that’s official!’
Thirty-Seven
In the nameless little cove under the Polgissey cliffs, which her cousin favoured to do his writing, Cordelia was standing on a high cluster of rocks that jutted deep out to sea. It was low tide and this allowed her the vantage point.
She had been down here twice before, with Luke, the sea coming in both times, slapping against the rough base of the granite. The first time, while he had sat well back near the foot of the cliff and raced on with his play, she had run barefoot on the sand, tossing pebbles into the rushing breakers and peering into the rock pools, hoping to discover marine creatures and seaweeds unknown to her, but the pools had soon filled up, losing their identity and denying her the quest.
The second time she had been forced to retreat quickly to Luke’s side as the ocean had greedily invaded all of the beach. She had asked him what his play was entitled. His reply, when finally roused from the world of his imagination, was that he would tell her when he had decided. It would be something very special, extraordinary, unforgettable. If he had thought up a title he had forgotten to tell her what it was.
She was not thinking about Luke today. A small figure in her riding clothes, she was watching a solitary man in a small anonymous boat, out past the drift of the waves that lapped the shore. His jet-black hair was touched by the shine of the sun, as were the oars as they flashed in and out of the water. His powerful arms took him from the crab pots to the lobster traps that bore the coloured buoys of the Kinvers. He was looking seawards, bending over his pots and traps, hauling them in and emptying the contents into baskets.
Cordelia was waving to him with both arms, her hat in one hand, swishing it through the clean fresh air, its bright red ribbons like banners and heralds to her cause.
‘Morgan! Morgan!’ she shouted his name again and again, and she let out the shrill, whooping cry of the sort her male cousins had made as boys when locked in war games. Morgan did not look round. He could not hear her. Gentle as the sea was today, it retained an unrelenting thunderous roar.
The cove, like the numerous others along the coast was hemmed in on either side by towering cliffs. Many of the coves when fully exposed by the ebbing tides were joined to their neighbours, but the overreach of the cliffs here denied this tiny stretch any such freedom. Cordelia was afraid that Morgan, on his way towards the east point and then Porthcarne, where he would land his harvest, would miss her. He only had to look up to see her but he kept his head down, as if tired, as if defeated.
Scrambling down from the rocks she ran to the shoreline and was splashing in the water. ‘Morgan! Morgan!’
He was moving away from her and Cordelia began to scream his name at the highest pitch of her voice. It seemed she would have to climb back up the cliff and ride all the way to the village, and she so wanted this encounter to be just between the two of them. She was sure it would be a reunion, a special time, with this man who was as gentle as the waves that caressed the shore, who had never been out of her mind for a minute since she had forsaken Polgissey. She had needed no persuasion to come to him after Alicia had visited her room last night.
‘Cordelia, please open the door to me. I’m bringing you news of Morgan Kinver.’
This, and only this, after the pleadings of almost everyone else in the manor, had got her off her bed of humiliation and misery.
‘I should have written to you about this days ago,’ Alicia had said. ‘He’s been pleading with me to ask you to see him. He loves you, Cordelia. You can trust him. You are right for each other. You love him too, don’t you? It isn’t infatuation this time. Don’t let those who only seek to use you influence what you do with the rest of your life. Don’t miss this chance to be happy. Nothing else in the world matters.’
Cordelia had never felt entirely at ease in her elevated life, never knew who she really was, what she should do, but she had seen it clearly then. Related to gentry she may be, but she was first and foremost a fisherman’s daughter. Alicia had helped her pack the necessary things, and Jack had stolen away with them to a place outside the manor grounds where, shortly afterwards, he had met up with her and escorted her all the way to Porthcarne.
Fate in the form of those two wonderfully kind people had brought her here to this insignificant little cove. Now she was begging fate to intervene again and make Morgan look up and see her waving to him to come to her.
Of a sudden, he stopped pulling on the oars and lifted his head towards the cove.
He saw her, gazed at her a moment as if seeing something only in his imagination, then he waved back enthusiastically, sculling the boat round to row to shore. With every other rapid stroke, he looked over his shoulder, as if making sure she was still there. She leapt into the water, calling his name.
‘Cordelia! Wait there. I’m coming for you.’
Dropping her hat to float away, she trawled through the waves until waist high in the water. Streamers of her long black hair, caught by the wind, were soon wet and clinging to her shoulders.
Mo
rgan strained to reach her. Stretching out his long arms, gently and victoriously, he pulled in the most prized catch of his life.
Thirty-Eight
Later in the day, the Kinvers were confronted at their smallholding by the Pengarrons.
‘This is our property, Sir Oliver Pengarron,’ Hal Kinver stated coolly, standing in front of four of his five brothers and his son and his nephew. ‘We’ve been expecting you. Hope this is going to be civil like, or you can bugger off back where ’ee come from, and take the young master and this other man with ’ee. Begging your pardon, ma’am, Mrs Jack.’
Kerensa and Alicia were waiting, wary and watchful, near the horses.
‘I’m pleased we aren’t about to waste time, Hal Kinver,’ Oliver said in an equally harsh voice. ‘I understand you’re being protective of your brother Morgan, but I’m not leaving here until you tell me precisely where my niece, Miss Cordelia Drannock, is.’
‘Tell us now, Kinver!’ Luke bawled in fury. He made to push past his father, but Oliver flung out an arm to prevent him.
‘I won’t be stopped. Where is my sister?’ Bartholomew pulled out the pistol he had nestled in his belt. ‘You have five seconds, big man, or I’ll shoot you down like a dog.’
‘Be careful of him, Hal Kinver. This man is a murdering swine!’ Alicia’s voice seethed with hate, causing Kerensa to gasp in horror; what did she mean?
Jack shot his wife a look of warning to be cautious. Oliver frowned, but kept his eyes fixed on the giant.
‘I’ve no need to lie to any of ’ee. She’s gone off with Morgan. You won’t see she again till they’re wed. They’re in love. That’s the way of it, and there isn’t a thing none of ’ee can do about it.’
‘Thank God,’ Alicia got in before anyone else could comment or make a new threat. ‘I’m so pleased all is well for her. It’s what she and Morgan deserve.’
‘Shut up, Alicia! This would never have happened if not for you and Jack. You had no right to interfere.’ Luke twisted round and glared at them with utter reproach. He felt betrayed by their actions, and isolated, excluded, shunned. Eventually, when everyone at the manor had begun to worry over Cordelia’s late return from her ride and the fact that Jack was also missing, Alicia’s presence had been demanded by the family. With pride, she had produced a letter that Cordelia had written, of her intentions to go to Morgan Kinver. Cordelia had penned many paragraphs on the wretch’s character, making him sound like a saint.
‘Where did they go?’ Oliver advanced on Hal Kinver. Luke and Bartholomew matched his steps. Oliver was in control but he was also angry, annoyed and anxious. In his preoccupation over his personal life he had let Cordelia down, and Kerensa was feeling even more guilty, declaring she should have been aware of all Cordelia’s moods. They were afraid she had made a terrible mistake, but Oliver would make sure she was not beyond their help.
The Kinvers crossed over the same length of ground. Oliver and Hal were almost eye to eye.
‘If we knew where they went we wouldn’t tell ’ee,’ Hal curled his mighty fists, widening his aggressive stance. He motioned his great dark head towards Luke. ‘She’s better off away from he there! Treated her like a skivvy, he did. Snapping her head off whenever the fancy took un. Too busy scribbling away and bedding his whore of a cook to see how unhappy the little maid was. My brother’ll make her happy, and come hell or high water, the rest of us Kinvers will see he gets the bleddy chance!’
‘It isn’t your decision to make, Kinver!’ Oliver roared, bracing himself for sudden attack.
‘My sister isn’t going to spend the rest of her life living in poverty with some ne’er-do-well,’ Bartholomew’s teeth grated on the words. ‘Tell us where they are or you’ll be the first to die.’
‘What’s all this talk of killing, Bartholomew? We’ve come here only to take Cordelia home safely.’ Oliver was shocked at his nephew’s clear intent; was there some truth to Alicia Rosevear’s allegation? He was fearful now for Kerensa’s safety if a fight broke out. He squared off from the opposing family.
‘Hal Kinver, you say my niece is not here. I would like to search your house.’
Hal swept a massive arm towards his threshold. He was not a warring man, seeking only to protect his kin and what was rightfully his. ‘Go ahead, Sir Oliver. Look in every room, search every cupboard an’ corner. I’ve told ’ee no lies, but I’m willing to let ’ee look for yourself. And when you do, take a good look round. You’ll see this property’s not run down, nor poorly furnished, nor are our cupboards bare. Our land is well teeled and our beasts are well cared for. We’re humble, but not poor. Not so common as you believe either. This house and land was given to our late mother by our father, Mr Cecil Doble. You’ll even find a picture of he on our walls. Like your niece, we’ve got good blood in our veins.’
‘Oliver, perhaps we should listen to what Mr Kinver is saying,’ came Kerensa’s careful opinion. She was at Oliver’s side, hugging his arm. ‘Cordelia is not a child anymore, it’s time we all stopped thinking of her as such. She’s made a decision, and before we try to wrench her away from this man, who Jack and Alicia are convinced she loves, and by their account, who will treat her well, we should think about what Cordelia really wants. Has our love not triumphed across the social divide and every other circumstance?’
‘Never! I’ll not allow it!’ Luke uttered disbelievingly. How could his mother suggest such a thing?
‘I’m afraid you have no say in this, Luke.’ Kerensa turned to him, offering a comforting hand. She knew how badly he was feeling about Cordelia’s elopement, over how he had failed her. ‘You had your chance with Cordelia and must now accept she has chosen another man.’
‘I won’t allow my sister to live in this place, not after what she’s used to,’ Bartholomew swore.
‘She and Morgan aren’t ’tending on living here,’ Hal said, with meaning in every word. ‘Be a bit too overcrowded anyways. They’ll make their own way in the world. He’s got means put by, she’ll not go without nothing.’
‘I’ll see that she doesn’t! And I’ll see to it that your brother doesn’t benefit from what I’ve settled on her.’
‘Morgan’d insist on that,’ Hal said, with the same sort of pride. ‘We Kinvers aren’t afraid of hard work, we’ve always made our own way in the world. Mrs Morgan Kinver will still live the life of a lady. My only regret is they won’t be able to settle round here, not with the way he’s going to be.’ Again, he jerked his head at Luke, who was staring despondently down at the ground; it could be thought he was sulking or scowling. ‘I just hope he won’t make the villagers suffer because of it. My boy will be out of a job for a start and he was enjoying learning all about horses under Jack.’
Luke felt as if he had been smacked in the face. He eyed Hal Kinver, shaking his head. This was unjust and he was hurt to the marrow of his bones. Had he not supported Porthcarne in a great many ways since his arrival in the big house? Why was it thought he could be so vindictive, so fickle, so anxious to seek vengeance? Did no one see any real good in him? Jack seemed to have lost his respect for him, he had brought Cordelia here and had been waiting with the Kinvers for the inevitable conflict.
‘Are you really going to allow this, Uncle?’ Bartholomew demanded roughly.
Oliver glanced at Kerensa. She smiled up at him and he wrapped his arm round her waist. ‘I’ve known Jack from a small boy and I trust his judgement completely, as does your aunt. If Cordelia has chosen Morgan Kinver, and it strikes me that at least the fellow is going to marry her, then I will respect her choice, although if he ever hurts her in any way, he’ll have to pay me before the devil!
‘Hal Kinver, our families are about to be joined in wedlock, and although I’m not entirely happy about it, I shall do nothing to prevent it. Will you take my hand on it?’
‘I’ll do that gladly, sir. My brothers too.’ And with one breath, all the brothers relaxed their hostile stance. ‘Will ’ee finish it all off with a drop of brandy, sir?’
Hal tapped his broad nose. ‘Fine foreign stuff, if ’ee knows what I do mean.’
‘Willingly, her ladyship and I shall stay a few minutes. I do not speak for the others.’ Oliver raised his eyes in question at those he had brought with him.
Intense, incensed, Luke stalked up to Hal Kinver. ‘When you next see your brother and Miss Cordelia, tell them they may settle where they will, with no opposition from me on any account. Also, tell my cousin she and her husband may call on me any time they wish. And also hear this, I am not as small-minded as you would have tell of me. The people of Porthcarne are under my patronage, I will always see them right and do whatever I can for them. But I will certainly not stay and drink with you.’ To his parents he said, ‘You will rest and dine with me before returning home?’
‘We’ll be along soon.’ Kerensa smiled at him.
To Bartholomew, he said in hushed tones, ‘My play is in its final stages. I take it this incident will delay your departure again for London, until you have seen Cordelia and know that her well-being is assured. I’m sure this rabble will get word to her that she need not hide away. By then, I shall be ready to accompany you on the journey up to London. I do not forgive you for what you did to my friend, nor do I admire the man you have become, but I should feel safer, in the circumstances, if Sir Decimus Soames sees, when I present my plays for acceptance to the theatres, that I tolerate your company.’
‘I should like to have you with me,’ Bartholomew said grimly, ignoring the insult, his firearm now hidden away. ‘I’ll return to my daughter now and call on you in a day or two.’
Pengarron Dynasty Page 24