‘There’s a chance she’ll find happiness, Oliver. We did and who’d have once thought it?’
Oliver, always free in giving public affection to Kerensa, lifted her hand and kissed it warmly. ‘Let’s hope they don’t suffer as many rough patches as we did at the beginning.’
Luke was quiet, drinking little, and as soon as he got the chance he ushered Kelynen aside to talk to her privately. ‘I feel responsible for this. I should never have agreed to you staying here. Gabriel’s a good fellow but can you possibly be content with him?’
Kelynen glanced at Gabriel. He was talking to Kane, whom he had not met before. She felt warmed. Gabriel was finding so many people and the bustle and noise a strain, but he was genuinely interested in all of his new in-laws. ‘I’m certain I shall be as content as anyone can be in my situation, Luke. I even consider fate has been kind to me. Now do not blame yourself for anything that has happened to me. Father blamed himself, you know, and I have put him right. I take full responsibility, and happily so, for the life of my baby. You and I and our spouses must get together often. We must not allow our new concerns to let us drift apart. Sophie looks beautiful.’ And she did, dressed richly, her pearl-blonde hair immaculately styled under a wide feathered hat. She shone, she floated, and she brightened the house that had been so recently plunged into the depths of gloom. ‘You are a fortunate man.’
‘Thank you, Sister dear. I must say, your attitude cheers me.’ He signalled to a footman carrying a tray of wine and took two glasses for himself, unaware of Sophie’s disapproving gaze.
‘It’s a pity you didn’t bring young Betty with you,’ Jessica suddenly boomed close to Sophie’s ear. ‘I was so looking forward to seeing her.’
Offended by the approach, which she saw as a piece of common behaviour from this lowly farmer’s daughter, Sophie retorted, ‘Elizabeth fares well. She is settling into her new nursery. I was not about to distress her with an unnecessary journey and a stay overnight in a strange place.’ Her eyes shot to her five-year-old brother-in-law, Samuel Pengarron, who was tearing about unchecked with his dark-skinned toddling cousin, Tamara Drannock; obviously the child’s mother was a native of some kind. Thank goodness that Kelynen, who had made many a friendly overture to her today, had married an equal. Lady Pengarron, beautiful and agreeable though she may be, was formerly of the lower orders. The Pengarrons were in danger of becoming a mongrel breed.
Oliver had noticed the tension between his two daughters-in-law, and their differences. He bent his great dark head to Kerensa. ‘It was a shame Luke couldn’t have found someone delightful like Jessica, or someone kinder like Gabriel.’
‘You think Sophie unkind, darling?’
‘She’s definitely lacking in something.’ Indeed, Oliver felt that out of his two children most recently married, Kelynen had the greater chance of happiness. At least he could take comfort from the new loving manner between Livvy and Timothy.
The day ended with a short concert given by Gabriel in the music room. He played light soothing music on the violin, cello and spinet, avoiding anything lively, for it would have been out of place while the house still mourned, or anything sad, because he did not want to create a morbid atmosphere. This set, as he intended, a sleepy, relaxed tone and the guests made their way light-heartedly early to their beds. He and Kelynen disallowed the tradition of the bride and groom being escorted first up to the marriage chamber, and finally they were alone. A hush settled over the music room.
‘Are you tired?’ he asked, settling next to her in the front row of chairs, where she had sat between her parents.
‘I am, a little. Are you?’
‘Not tired, but relieved to find peace. Kelynen, you are used to having many people around you and I am used to privacy. Before we arrive at any problems, could we agree to compromise?’
Kelynen found herself smiling at him. ‘Well, I could only see my family at the manor and you could spend most of each day in the tower.’
He returned the smile and lifted her hand. ‘I didn’t mean quite such extremes, my dear love. When we socialize, if I am allowed a quiet corner that will do me well. I like your family. I should not want you to cut yourself off from them. They must come here any time they choose and not wait for an invitation.’
‘You are good to me, Gabriel.’
‘And you to me. We shall be good companions, Kelynen. It’s the first time in my life I’ve desired to have one. Shall we go up? The servants are waiting to retire.’
They climbed the stairs hand in hand to the master bedchamber, where Jacob Glynn, and Kelynen’s new maid, Hettie Hayes, a cousin of Jayna’s, had moved all their things. Kelynen was going to miss Ruth King, but it would have been unfair to deprive her of the manor, her home for over thirty years, and the closeness of her family at Perranbarvah. Sorrowful that soon she would be sleeping in Rafe’s bed, but not with Rafe, Kelynen tried desperately not to think about it.
Gabriel too was finding this strange and awkward. He sought an everyday subject. ‘I know you rise early for Rex. Would you mind if I continue to breakfast in my room – well, our room?’
‘Of course I won’t. Let us agree that we will not change our usual routines.’
On the first floor, past the picture gallery, they arrived at a pair of decorated double doors. Jacob and Hettie, who favoured Jayna in competent, ruddy looks, were stationed either side, wearing suitably nondescript faces. They opened the doors and the couple stepped inside. The confines were three times larger than any other Chenhalls bedroom, and much more lavish. Rafe had tried to coax her into this room, telling her of the great four-poster bed that took dominance, of how much he wanted to make love to her on it, but she had refused, fearing Ruth would soon know of the indiscretion. Part of her was sorry she’d had no previous contact with the opulent, rambling, exotically draped monster, but part of her was glad she had not, for the memories would have been too painful. Couches and chaise longues abounded on the deep, golden-red Turkish carpet – so many places where passion and love could have flowed unchecked. The ornamentation rivalled that of a cathedral’s, all in gold gilt. All ostentatious and rather awful, Kelynen thought at a second gaze.
She allowed Hettie to take her to her new dressing room. Kelynen had given no thought to wedding-night clothes, but her mother had. She returned to the chamber wearing sinuous white silk. Gabriel was there, in a brocaded dressing gown. His pale blond hair was lying newly brushed on his shoulders. How different to Rafe he was, his near starvation taking away any broadness of build he might have had. While Rafe’s eyes had leapt with merriment and wickedness, Gabriel’s were quiet and kind. Beatrice had, years ago, counselled her and Livvy about men. ‘A maid shouldn’t trouble herself for looks or wealth in a husband. Marry thee a kind man and ye’ll never know a moment of foreboding, my handsomes.’ No one could ever fear Gabriel or dislike him.
He came forward with a glass of champagne in each hand. Kelynen had observed that he often enjoyed more than a fair amount of spirits, but he had kept restraint today. The few times she had thought him noisy was when laughing, intoxicated, in Jacob’s company. ‘I feel we ought to share a toast, but to what?’
Kelynen took a glass and considered. To toast their future together seemed out of place – theirs was a marriage of convenience. There was no point in toasting Chenhalls, as Gabriel hated it and it was, in truth, a tragic place for the Tremaynes. Rafe was the latest to have met a tragic end on its land. Kelynen shivered, suddenly fearful for her baby. Perhaps she should get away from here – past events decreed the child was unlikely to thrive here. No! Even if there were a curse of some sort she would change that. The human spirit was stronger than superstition. And Gabriel had broken the curse. He had nearly died here but had survived. Soon he would be at his strongest, and in the sultry glow of the candlelight she saw his good looks. And she saw that he was desirable – desirable enough to have made a beautiful, headstrong Austrian cling on to him.
Gabriel broke into her sil
ence by gently touching her face. ‘Let’s toast the baby. Wish it well. Ask God to bless it.’
Suddenly emotional, she could only nod.
He clinked his glass against hers. ‘To the new life growing inside you. My cousin, who is now to be my child, and to you, Kelynen.’
After the first sip, Kelynen said, ‘And to you, Gabriel.’
They discarded their dressing gowns, snuffed out the candles, except for one on Gabriel’s bedside, and got into the ridiculous bed. Kelynen lay still, waiting for Gabriel to make his first move at consummating their union. It was his right. She would not deny him that. And she did not mind too much. She trusted him to be considerate. Propped up on his arm, he gazed down on her. He stroked her face and whispered, ‘You are tired. Go to sleep.’ He blew out the last light.
Grateful for his sensitivity, she said goodnight and turned away, able now to settle her thoughts on Rafe, and how it should be he at her side. She wept silent tears long into the night. When Gabriel put his arm lightly over her, for no other reason than to give her comfort, she clasped hold of his hand.
Twenty-Three
Encouraged by Sophie, Luke had returned to writing his play and he was also newly inspired by Gabriel’s promise to score some accompanying music.
‘This new departure could prove greatly successful for both of us,’ Luke said over the supper table one night to Sophie at Polgissey. Eager to show Sophie that she took priority in his life he was careful not to get carried away as of old, when he had written endlessly, missed meals, and had often not bothered to retire to bed. Nowadays he was always eager for bedtime. He couldn’t have enough of Sophie’s fragrant, tender body.
‘Respectable landed gentlemen who are gifted at the arts make for a fascinating combination,’ Sophie said from the other end of the table. ‘You and Sir Gabriel are already greatly admired locally.’ While not wishing her father-in-law, of whom she was in awe, the end of his life, she was looking forward to the day when Luke would inherit his title and she would become Lady Pengarron. She would not wear her title with the disregard that Kelynen did hers. ‘Did you finish the final scene in Act Four today, dear?’
‘Not quite.’ Luke smiled. He loved Sophie all the more for being interested in what a lot of wives would see as an unnecessary pastime, and who would urge him only into stretching his wealth by expanding his business interests.
‘You must apply yourself or Gabriel will be ahead of you again. How quickly music comes to him. How exciting, that now His Majesty has heard of his presence in the country he has invited him to perform at Court again. Perhaps one day we shall be given the chance to accompany him.’
‘Yes, my beloved. I would like to show you around all the meet places of the capital. Mind you, it will be a hard task to get Gabriel to go up to London; at present he is pleading his bereavement to keep him quietly at Chenhalls.’
‘But he will have to go eventually. One cannot ignore a command from the King. Fortunate for Kelynen, to be presented to Royalty.’ Sophie tried to sound offhand. ‘But then she too probably doesn’t welcome the honour in the same way as most people would.’
Luke looked at her curiously. He had not forgotten she was much given to sarcasm, and could be blunt and even cruel, but it was something of a surprise to realize that Sophie harboured jealousies. Before, she had always pleaded contentment with her humble life. His joy at securing her meant he would do anything to please her. ‘When Kelynen and Gabriel finally do go to London, likely now not until after the child is delivered, we shall journey up with them. My connection to Gabriel should ensure us a visit at Court.’
Placated, Sophie brightened. ‘I shall look forward to it.’
‘And I’m looking forward to having you to myself after this.’ He gave her an enduring smile.
Sophie smiled back graciously and then hid a maddened expression behind her wine glass. Polgissey was on the opposite coast of Cornwall to Mount’s Bay – the wilder, rugged North Cliffs. She wished Luke up in the tower room, his study, which overlooked the surging Atlantic Ocean. When not at a distance of more than a few inches from her, he was altogether too attentive, touching her and kissing her, plying her with endearments. Then as soon as they were ready for bed he sought to perform the act of love, although she could never think of it as such. It was a ludicrous procedure that was uncomfortable and embarrassing. She found it impossible to believe women actually enjoyed it. How could Kelynen have allowed Sir Rafe to seduce her, to become with child by him? Sophie was horrified both at Kelynen’s joyful anticipation of the birth of her bastard child and Gabriel’s calm acceptance of it. Kelynen was little better than Adelaide in that respect. Neither had any shame.
‘Oh, I’d nearly forgotten. I’ve invited Mr and Mrs Rosevear to join us after our repast, to play cards,’ Sophie said. She did not approve of Luke’s steward, one of his closest friends and a former Pengarron groom, and his wife, a squire’s daughter who had once been the mistress of a young lord who had been sordidly murdered, but their presence would stave off Luke’s pawing for an hour or two.
‘I’m pleased you care for Jack and Alicia,’ Luke said, eating the last morsel of plum pudding before reaching for the port. He ignored Sophie’s frown. Sometimes she complained of alcohol on his breath but he was careful not to overindulge. He missed, however, the fun of getting riotously drunk.
‘I like to compare notes with Mrs Rosevear on Elizabeth’s and her child Mary Caroline’s progress.’
‘Mary Caroline is three years the older but the girls should grow up as good friends. Jack is disappointed there have been no more children as of yet. I hope we shall soon be able to give the news that we’re expecting a happy event, beloved.’ He gazed at her over a full measure of port, with half lowered eyes.
Sophie hated that look, which spoke of his intention of making another assault on her to further his desire for an heir. She wished she were pregnant. It would help in her excuses to deny Luke his pleasure. ‘I wish with all my heart that blessing will not be far off.’
She kept on with the cards as late as possible, and after the Rosevears had left she picked up her embroidery – anything to keep Luke at bay.
From behind her chair in the parlour, Luke massaged her shoulders. ‘D’you know I’d never have taken you for a night body. Are you not tired though? You seem to be tense.’
Sophie tossed aside the petticoat she was making for Elizabeth, trying not to show her irritation, her disgust. Luke, apart from his energies in the bedchamber, was good to her, showering her with devotion, and she would never forget how much she owed him.
While Luke waited, naked, in bed for her, she brushed her hair and then applied lavender-rich salve, a speciality of Beatrice’s, to her hands. She could see Luke’s reflection, watching her, anticipating her. She imagined him licking his lips as if he were a cat about to get yet another large helping of cream. Why did he want sex so often? It was every night that she was not indisposed. Kelynen did not get the curse now she was with child, but on the two occasions she and Gabriel had stayed overnight in the next room there had been no sounds of disturbance on the mattresses. If only she could gain the courage to ask Kelynen to have a word with her brother, to implore him to be as thoughtful a husband as Gabriel seemed to be. Sophie was reminded of how the Bible said that Joseph knew not the Virgin Mary until after the Lord’s birth. How fortunate for Kelynen if she was sharing the same consideration.
Patient in his waiting, Luke’s thoughts turned to his sister. Kelynen’s life seemed to be working out better than anyone had imagined. Once a week she rode over to Pengarron Manor to spend the day there, and sometimes Gabriel went with her. Once a week she and Gabriel together called either at Polgissey, or at Vellanoweth to see Kane and Jessica, or to dine with Livvy and Timothy. Lady Portia doted on Kelynen, and had gained sufficient strength and energy under her care to allow Livvy to be halfway through her portrait. Sometimes Luke and Sophie and other members of the family visited Chenhalls. For the time being, Kelyn
en was shunning a social life and this suited Gabriel. As far as Luke could see, it was a time of unusual peace and harmony for all the Pengarrons. It amused and satisfied him, however, that when he had children of his own, he’d have a lot of exciting and perilous tales – not least about his own youthful exploits – to tell about the family, its history stretching back to the French aristocrat who had come across the Channel with William I.
His stiff arm suddenly began to trouble him. ‘Come and ease this for me please, darling,’ he said, knowing Sophie had witnessed his discomfort in the mirror.
She delayed another full minute before coming towards him. ‘Turn to the side then.’ From behind him, she began a forceful manipulation of his shoulder.
‘Ow! Pray, be careful, Sophie. You are no good at relieving my pain.’
‘I’ve told you this often enough, Luke. I have not the touch for this sort of thing.’ Suddenly she was appalled with herself, for she had been tempted to hurt him so he would have had to leave the room and resort to Elgan’s ministrations. She gentled her massage. She braced herself for what would happen soon. He would turn to her and bring her into the bed and start the kissing and fondling, asking her what she liked, telling her that he wanted only to please her. She should not have let herself show enthusiasm that day in his mother’s sitting room or allowed him to be free with her body. She had immediately made it plain that there would be no more impure happenings before their wedding night, but Luke, virile man that he was, had thought she had enjoyed it. She had, but only for a moment, before a sick, ashamed feeling had taken over. Now she was too good at fooling him that she enjoyed full conjugal rights.
Minutes later, Luke took her by surprise by stopping. ‘Are you tired, darling? Are you not well?’
She opened her tightly closed eyes and saw him staring down on her. ‘Well, I…’
She was pleased to have been given the opportunity of making an excuse, until he exclaimed, ‘Lordsakes, you are grimacing. Was I hurting you?’
Pengarron Rivalry Page 19