Pengarron Dynasty

by Pengarron Dynasty (retail) (epub)

  ‘Thank you, Oliver. I know it’s not easy for you.’

  ‘It will be a lot less easy for him.’ Oliver turned the lock of hair over in his hand. ‘And this?’

  Kerensa took it from him. ‘It must be blown away like the rest of the past.’

  They walked down to the shore and climbed an outcrop of rocks that straggled out into the sea. Untying the blue ribbon, Kerensa rubbed the lock of hair into separate entities, then raising her hand she let them, and the ribbon, be carried away by the wind.

  ‘The past is gone,’ Oliver said, enfolding her in his arms.

  She leaned into his strength. ‘No more echoes.’

  Forty-One

  ‘Hello, Luke, busy as usual, I see. I’ve come to take a look at Jack and Alicia’s baby. My brother-in-law, Hal, said I would find a welcome from you also.’

  Luke was tying the last knot of string around his manuscript for the journey to London and had not heard Cordelia sweep into the tower room. He studied her. She looked very pretty and somehow taller than before, then he realized she was holding her shoulders back, her head up high.

  ‘You’re welcome any time, Cousin. You look happy. The married state obviously suits you. Have you come alone?’

  ‘Morgan’s waiting for me downstairs. I wasn’t sure how you would receive him. I’ll not have him subjected to your less agreeable moods.’

  ‘And I’d not expect you to.’

  Luke came forward and enclosed her in a fond embrace. ‘I hope you both can stay. Bartholomew is due here at any moment, we could all dine together. It’s good having a baby in the house. It’s made it a home, like the manor.’

  Cordelia stared at him. Since her return from her honeymoon yesterday, people were constantly exclaiming how she had changed. From all appearances so had Luke. He was particularly well groomed and had a glow of vigour about him. A glance round the room showed no evidence of the spirits and glasses that usually frequented the place. He was different. He actually seemed content. Over the years, she had witnessed him in acts of high jinks and merry-making and the ecstatic moments when her uncle had allowed him to leave the estate to write, but contentment had always eluded him.

  ‘I’m pleased to find you in such good health, and congratulations on finishing your play. As to whether Morgan and I should stay and see Barty, I’m worried my brother will be harsh with us. Hal said he’d threatened him with a pistol.’

  ‘My father has accepted your husband and therefore so will Bartholomew. He agrees with everything my father says and does, have you not noticed? He may be harsh with you, but pay no heed to it. He’ll feel easier when he sees you. He’s been waiting for your return before he goes back up to London. I’ll be going with him. Now, my dear, tell me where you’re going to live, what Morgan Kinver is going to do to provide for you.’

  ‘I’ve come to love Polgissey, Luke, and Morgan doesn’t want to leave the village. If you’ll allow us, we would like to build a house somewhere near here, up on the cliffs. Morgan will continue to work both the land and the sea. He hopes also to build a fleet of boats and to sell them or rent them, at a low affordable rate, to the local men. It will provide more work hereabouts.’

  ‘It all sounds very honourable. Be assured you have my blessing. I can’t think of anything better than having you as my close neighbour. Choose which ever slice of land you care to, I shall consult my solicitor over the legal side of it on the morrow. Why not live here while I’m away? Alicia will be delighted to have your company, but please, Corrie, I would very much like to retain Mrs Curnow’s services. It was she who safely delivered little Mary Caroline.’

  ‘I’d like nothing more, Luke. I’ll ask Morgan what he thinks, but I’m sure he’ll agree.’

  ‘Excellent, how well things are moving. Have you heard the splendid news that my parents are happily reconciled?’

  ‘Yes, isn’t it wonderful? I wrote to them from Bath and received an immediate reply. I must say, I am relieved mine and Morgan’s beginning was not as complicated as theirs.’

  ‘So all ends well for us, Corrie, dear.’ He made a quizzical face. ‘Did you really think you were in love with me?’

  ‘Yes, Luke, but I know what real love is now.’

  ‘You may have had more good fortune than you think. I was going to ask you to marry me. Would you have accepted?’

  ‘Let’s not waste time over what may have been, Luke. Will you content yourself only with the fleeting comfort Amy Curnow gives you when you come home again? Do you not think it is time you looked for love?’

  ‘Definitely not.’ He ushered her to the door. ‘It seems to me that love prefers to reveal itself at just the right moment rather than being tracked down. I hope, if it ever shows itself to me, I’ll not be too preoccupied with other things to recognize it. Now, let us go down to Morgan and we will all go to see this lovely baby.’

  At the foot of the stairs, Cordelia had a sudden thought. ‘Luke, what is the title of your play?’

  He laughed aloud. ‘I’ve named it with you in mind. The Strength of Innocence.'

  Forty-Two

  Beatrice was plodding along to her room, a jar of gin cradled in both arms. When she neared the dining room, where Polly O’Flynn was stationed outside, supervising the comings and goings of succulent fare and empty dishes, the two women exchanged unrestrained gestures of delight.

  Their master and mistress were holding a goodbye supper party for Luke and Bartholomew. All the family and a number of their friends were sitting around the dining table, and the room, indeed the whole manor, seemed to be reverberating with laughter and scintillating talk.

  ‘Goin’ t’ be all right from now on,’ Beatrice grinned and spluttered. ‘I don’t jus’ feel it in me water, I knows it for certain, sure!’

  Polly eyed the gin jar and Beatrice bristled in challenge, but Polly laughed raucously, an unusual occurrence for someone normally uncompromisingly strict in all quarters. ‘There’s something better than that tonight for those of us servants who partake. Sir Oliver has given us half a dozen bottles of his best wine from the cellar. Join Nathan and myself and the others after the meal’s over, Beatrice.’

  ‘Well, bless ’is ’eart! Always was a good boy, an’ who do knaw that better ’n me? We’ll celebrate fit t’ lift off the roof! Drink a toast t’ the boy an’ ’is maid!’

  For once, Polly did not correct Beatrice’s affectionate term for their master and mistress.

  Throughout the evening, regardless of this being a meal in Luke and Bartholomew’s honour, everyone’s eyes were constantly on Oliver and Kerensa. He sent a secret signal down across the table and she sent him one back.

  ‘You simply must tell me what that meant, dear heart,’ Rachael leaned across Luke and squawked at Kerensa. Then she nudged Luke, and winked. ‘Or should I wait until I’m alone with your mama for the explanation, eh, eh?’

  Luke looked steadily at his mother, who was laughing now at a witty word from Bartholomew. His parents had evidently resolved all their troubles, but did she perhaps have something shattering to tell Clem Trenchard?

  Olivia was interested in the newest member to join the family. While occasionally entering the conversation Timothy was having with Cordelia about the various attractions offered at Bath nowadays, she turned often to view Morgan Kinver’s strong profile. He was talking mostly to Jack and Alicia, and finally, somewhat bemused, he gave Olivia a full view of his face.

  She was immediately drawn to his warm smile. ‘Forgive me for staring, Mr Kinver – Morgan. Do you happen to know I do a little painting? I’d like to do your portrait, if I may. Would you have the time to come to the parsonage?’

  ‘I’d be pleased to.’ He glanced at Cordelia, who nodded in encouragement.

  ‘Livvy, dear,’ Timothy interrupted, and Olivia clammed up, pretending to be interested only in her food. He was saddened to witness once again how George Spears’ defection had robbed her of her confidence. This was the first time since then that she had shown
any enthusiasm to resume painting. She was despondent about the house and parish, and showed little delight in expectation of the baby.

  He went on rapidly, ‘I think I might have a better suggestion, my love. You planned at one time to do some painting at Polgissey. There’s still weeks yet before you must rest before your confinement. Go to Polgissey, stay with Cordelia and Morgan and paint him there. And why not paint him about his work? Out in natural conditions. Draw Jack with the horses and Mrs Rosevear with the new baby.

  ‘I don’t care what that Spears fellow thought about your landscapes, your seascapes, or anything else. I was jealous of your ambitions before, I admit that in company, but I really do admire all your works, as have the people who’ve bought them in the past. The more you paint the more your style will develop. I’ve brought four of your best works with me and Luke is going to take them up to London, for a second, a third and even a fourth opinion, if need be. Your talent will grow with the right encouragement, of that I am sure.’

  ‘Oh, Timothy!’ Olivia gasped, elated, then she ran round the table to hug him.

  ‘Both our gifts will be put the test, but our dreams need never die, Livvy,’ Luke bawled mirthfully down the table.

  ‘Good for you, Timothy! I propose a toast!’ Kane rose to his feet, his leg quite improved now. He had drunk a good deal of wine and staggered a little. Jessica grabbed him and steadied him, amid much laughing.

  Kane was happy and heartily relieved he did not have to go to Greystone’s Farm. In agreement with Timothy, Jessica had been given the unenviable task of writing to her father about Oliver and Kerensa’s reunion. ‘To new beginnings,’ Kane said. ‘The marriage of Cordelia and Morgan. The success of Luke’s plays and Livvy’s paintings and to whatever Bartholomew’s latest venture may be. To my little brother, Sam, for a long and happy life, and my new little cousin, Tamara, that she will enjoy growing up in Cornwall. To the good health of Miss Mary Caroline Rosevear and the coming of Livvy and Timothy’s baby, and – ’ he smiled proudly – ‘I would like to announce that Jessica and I will be adding to our own nursery next spring!’

  When all the cheers and good wishes had died down everyone rose and the toast was finally drunk.

  Then Kane went on, looking down to the foot and up to the head of the table, ‘And to you my very dear Mama and Father, whom we all love so very much.’ He could not add publicly how everyone felt about their reconciliation, the sudden hush of emotional silence spoke for him.

  The toast was drunk and the noise and joyful banter broke out again.

  Then everyone watched as Oliver strode down the room. He bowed to Kerensa and taking her by the hand led her up to his chair. ‘Sit there, beloved.’

  He fetched a chair from beside the door and placed it next to hers and sat down. ‘This is how things should be,’ he said. ‘Equal in everything and always together.’

  There were rounds of applause and cheers enough to threaten to bring the ceiling down. Beatrice and Polly and the other servants crept into the room and joined in.

  ‘Speech, speech!’ demanded a beaming Sir William. It was good to be back on good terms with his friend.

  Sir William’s call was taken up by all the others and Oliver obliged them by standing up. A sudden quiet fell over the room.

  ‘If I am to make a speech,’ Oliver declared, gazing at all the eager faces around his table and those at the door. ‘Then Kerensa, your mother, your mother-in-law, her ladyship, your friend, or whatever this wonderful lady is to you, will stand at my side.’

  Kerensa was a little stunned. Oliver helped her to her feet and they stood very close, his arm round her shoulders, hers round his waist. ‘You say something first,’ he whispered in her ear.

  ‘Me? What shall I say?’

  ‘You’ll find the right words, my love.’

  She took a deep breath. ‘I’ll say only what I want you to know, and then what you want to hear. All of you gathered here mean everything to me, and I thank you for all the love and loyalty you’ve shown me over the years. I love you all, and,’ she raised her face to Oliver, ‘most of all I love this great man at my side and always will.’

  Oliver bent his head and kissed her. The noise broke out again to deafening pitch. He motioned with his hand for silence. ‘I have no different sentiments to express, only to say I love this woman, this most precious, beautiful woman more than ever. And now, let us go to the great hall and get on with the entertainments.’

  ‘I go up to London with a different heart this time, Cousin,’ Luke remarked to Bartholomew, during a break in the dancing.

  Bartholomew took his eyes off Alicia, who was sitting with Jack across the hall. She was glaring at him, the same malevolent look he had received with ever-increasing regularity at the supper table. Never before had someone looked at him with such utter hatred, but he was undisturbed. She could do nothing to harm him. Even an anonymous communication to the authorities disclosing how Lord Alexander Longbourne had really met his death would be laughed at. Nothing could be proved.

  ‘And so you should, Luke. Before we set out the day after tomorrow, I have a little personal business to attend to.’

  Luke followed Bartholomew’s eyes and was alarmed to see them fixed on Alicia. ‘You had better not be planning to harm her!’

  ‘You have my word Mrs Jack is safe from me. No, I was thinking of my uncle and aunt. I don’t believe anything could ever spoil their happiness again, but I’d do anything to make sure nothing could even be a nuisance to them.’

  ‘I think you mean someone. You’re thinking of warning off Clem Trenchard? I’d a notion Kane intended to do that. I say, leave it. Trenchard would only see a warning as a statement that he has some sort of power over Father. Things will be different at the baptism of Kane and Jessica’s next child. I’d like the county to see it.’

  ‘You’re right, Luke, let’s look only to the future and forget the rigours of the past. Before we retire for the night, what say you and I take a ride over to Marazion? I’ve the desire to call at Madame Frances Nansmere’s residence, visit her girls. Then, when we reach the capital, we’ll look only to the serious side of our respective business there.’

  ‘An excellent idea.’ Luke warmed to the prospect of visiting one of his old regular haunts.

  He watched Cordelia dancing with her husband. ‘I’m glad for Corrie’s sake that you’ve come round to Kinver. He’s hardly suitable for her, undoubtedly not what you’d hoped for her, but she’s happy and that’s the only ambition the dear girl has ever had.’

  Bartholomew looked at Morgan Kinver from keen eyes – an unsettling sort of stare, to Luke’s mind. ‘I’ll wait and see how things go for her. Kinver can easily be persuaded to move on, if the need arises.’

  ‘Bartholomew, how you do like to make threats.’

  ‘I’m not so cold-blooded, Luke. I merely don’t baulk at removing a threat to anyone I love or admire. Or doing an unpleasant service to anyone I have a certain loyalty to.’ He tapped his chest.

  Luke shuddered as he saw again the knife wound in Alex Longbourne’s heart, and he recalled the hostile manner with which Bartholomew had confronted Hal Kinver. He wished Jack was going with him to London instead.

  Forty-Three

  Out on the moor, Clem was hard at work with his scythe, slashing down furze, brambles and ferns for use as the base for the ricks Philip and the farmhands were building in the yard. Ferns would also be used for bedding for the pigs, calves and yearlings. He was content to be doing a labourer’s job. In previous years he had organized the rick-building, but now he and Philip had made their peace, he was allowing his son to take charge of this.

  He would be returning home soon, leaving his harvest to dry out for a few days, to wash and change to attend a funeral. One of the labourers had lost his wife from a fever; the third victim in a week in the village of St Cleer.

  His three dogs were darting about, bounding over granite boulders, sniffing the undergrowth and the bank of the nearby s
tream. A crow cawed from somewhere. Clem straightened up and looked in all directions but saw nothing except the wild landscape, its dips and tors. He’d slice the bastard-thing in half if he could.

  This made him think of Oliver Pengarron. What was happening between that hated man and Kerensa? Being so far away, with no way of knowing, was eating into his guts. If only he and Kerensa had thought of a way to keep in touch.

  She loves him more than me, he told the silent moor, miserably. If I could make her turn to me then he can do the same. He’d felt she had been turning back to her husband before he’d left her in the Tolwithrick cottage – her love for Pengarron had always been hopelessly strong. Like his own for her, sadly it didn’t just go away. How much more bearable his life would have been if it had been otherwise.

  Sighing, he attacked a ridge of fern with fierce, sweeping strokes. He worked on until sweat stung his eyes and ran in rivers down his back. He went to the stream for a drink of water, skirting a patch of peat bog, wide and deep enough to drown a beast, the fate of one of his straying bullocks last winter.

  Gawen barked and Halwyn joined in and then Gracie. Clem took no notice, the dogs often took issue with a hare or some other creature, or were startled by the sudden flight of a grouse or pheasant, or just played noisily together.

  Gracie, the most faithful of the three, was suddenly beside him, her hackles raised, growling, showing her teeth.

  Snatching up his scythe, Clem straightened his back and swung round. ‘Who the hell are you?’

  The stranger, standing up on a boulder, said nothing, just smirked.

  Clem recognized the tall, dark-haired man with Pengarron looks. He was dressed, not like the gentleman he had become, but in the clothes of a gipsy. His deep tan and an earring made the effect complete. Clem was on guard, all his dogs lined up with him now.

  ‘Bartholomew Drannock. I’d heard you were back in Mount’s Bay. What ill wind blows you this way?’