Pengarron Rivalry

by Pengarron Rivalry (retail) (epub)

  ‘No. Of course you weren’t, Luke.’ She gently pulled on his long black hair, hoping it would pass as a gesture of loving.

  Luke lay down on his back. In an instant some of his happiness drained away. Sophie was not the most affectionate of women, she never made the initial move towards intimacy, but he had considered this to be natural shyness. He had stayed too deep in his delight at discovering, as he had hoped after Lady Portia’s insensitive declaration, that he had indeed married a virgin. Thinking back now over their numerous couplings, an awful suspicion niggled at him. ‘You don’t hate being with me, do you?’

  ‘Please don’t think that, my dear.’ She forced herself to reach out a hand and drop it on his chest, which was still hot and heaving from his exercise. ‘I am tired, I swear. I’ve been very busy today and I was foolish to have stayed up so late.’

  He thought this through. Since they had moved here Sophie had worked tirelessly putting her own mark on Polgissey. Every room had new fabrics or frescos or furnishings, all influenced by the Italian villa style. She had commissioned paintings – not from Livvy, not liking her carefree style – of horses and hunting and heroes of ancient Rome. He was pleased that his home showed modern flair, but he was not reassured that she welcomed his approaches. ‘You would tell me if anything was wrong? If I… if I did anything you didn’t like. It’s important to me that you are perfectly content.’

  There would never be a more ideal time to ask him for less frequent intimacy, but they had only been married a few weeks and it was commonplace, so she understood, for a young couple to resort to their bedchamber often. Glancing at his expression, already steeped in hurt and rejection, she was afraid to risk killing off his feelings for her. He might grow distant and then resort to a mistress and she would hate that. If only Wilmot Carew hadn’t tried that one time to… Then perhaps she wouldn’t find the whole thing so disgusting.

  She turned on her side and pressed herself in tight against him. She stroked his face and kissed his mouth. ‘I’m sorry, darling Luke. Forgive me. I’ll ensure that I never allow myself to get so weary in future. Living alone for so many months I got into the habit of filling every hour with activity so I wouldn’t feel lonely and to help me sleep. I love you and I do enjoy being a wife to you.’

  Her enthusiasm made his heart bounce with joy. She had not mentioned before that she loved him. She had not taken off her nightgown before, indeed had almost clung to it, but now she was untying the ribbons down its front, exposing a beautiful, smooth marble-white shoulder and more. He kissed her there. She kissed his throat, his face and his neck. His desire returned, greatly intensified. Always she had lain beneath him, warding off anything different. Tentatively he tried joining them together as they lay. She did not object and he went ahead and enjoyed several moments of slow easy union. Luke kept everything gentle and broke off for a while before going on to a climax.

  He pulled her nightgown up to cover her body and held her a while, before telling her one last time he loved her. Then he retreated at a distance, feeling she would appreciate the space.

  Sophie did. And she lay thinking that hopefully he would not bother her so often now. But nonetheless she was capable of ruthlessly pursuing and enduring anything to ensure her security.

  * * *

  With Gabriel and Lady Portia being late risers, and Josiah shunning her company, Kelynen always ate alone in the breakfast room at Chenhalls. She did not mind this. It enabled her to imagine Rafe was with her. Sometimes she spoke to him in her mind and talked about their baby, suggesting names and the possibilities of its future.

  Its adoptive father is to be presented to the King, Rafe. Aren’t you proud? Of course, Gabriel would rather not go, but I’ll be there to encourage him. He’ll make us both proud. He’s good to me, such a comfort, and do you know, I believe he has some of your slightly wicked humour. I hope the baby has all of yours and Gabriel’s good qualities.

  After walking with Rex, she would then most days hold a short conference with the chef and housekeeper, Mrs Barton, to agree on menus and plan the smooth running of the house. She found it also fell to her to talk to the head gardener, the head groom and to sort out just about everything else concerning Chenhalls. She had thought Gabriel might start showing some interest in his inheritance, but he, having been assured by Jacob that his uncle had allowed Josiah and his loyal and efficient staff to run the household, was content to let the arrangements rest. He ensured he was with Kelynen for some hours each day. He strolled with her, rode with her, played music to her, and the rest of the time he shut himself away to compose for Luke’s play and an anthem for his audience with the King. He confided that while he was always keen to perform in public, it was the socializing before and afterwards he hated.

  He had looked at her from under his fair brows. ‘I suppose you’ll want to take a look about the city?’

  She had smiled back teasingly. ‘I can hardly wait. I shall order my dressmaker to prepare a whole new wardrobe. I want to attend every ball, visit every theatre and historic building. It’s fashionable to view the prisons and asylums, and we might get the chance of many a public hanging.’

  Gabriel had paced the banqueting hall, his head down, hands gripped behind his back. He had given a downcast, questioning look. ‘My dear, you are joking?’

  Finding his horror amusing, she had playfully tossed a cushion at him. ‘Dolt! Of course I was exaggerating. But it won’t hurt you to attend a few of the quieter occasions. There’s no point in being in London without taking advantage of some its delights.’

  Gabriel had caught the cushion with an element of shock and surprise. Puzzled at first, he finally let out a loud laugh. ‘I’m not used to such behaviour from another. I’ve not had brothers and sisters to grow up with, to spar with and share entertainments. I suppose a large family has its advantages. Do you miss yours?’

  ‘Sometimes. I couldn’t imagine the lonely life you must have led.’

  ‘There you are wrong.’ Looking into her eyes, he had reached out and touched her ear lobe with his fingertips, something he did often, a simple act of affection she liked him to do. ‘Not ever having had much company, I don’t miss it. I never feel lonely.’

  ‘You must have felt lonely after Caterina died.’ She had straightened his neckcloth. He had the habit of loosening it and it always ended up twisted to the side.

  ‘That was different to craving for just anyone to be there.’

  ‘I suppose it was.’

  He had then suggested they sit with his aunt in the summer house, always ensuring he gave Lady Portia at least a few minutes of his time each day. Kelynen had agreed, and it wasn’t until much later that she realized it was the first morning she had not gone to Rafe’s resting place.

  And so, as she started on the long, often crushing journey of coming to terms with losing Rafe, the days spun along with reasonable ease, until the afternoon she clashed with Josiah.

  She was passing the library, the only room Josiah entered for any length of time on the few occasions he was at Chenhalls. One of the double doors was ajar and she reached out to close it, but something made her want to enter the room, which was kept darkened in the daytime to protect the priceless collections of books and artefacts. Rex grumbled, demanding the walk he was about to be taken on, but Kelynen dragged him inside by the collar. ‘Shh. This will only delay us a minute or two. I want to take a look around.’

  So close was she to her dog she fancied she knew his thoughts, and as if he had asked the question ‘Why?’ she said, ‘I don’t know. As mistress of this house it’s my duty to ensure everything is in order in all of the rooms.’

  Her eyes shot straightway to the heavy desk at the foot of the stairs. It was in disarray. The drawers were pulled open with papers scattered about and stacked on chairs. Was this how Josiah left things now his uncle was not here? She thought not. Josiah was too meticulous in all his habits. And Mrs Barton always pointed out any disturbance in the rooms; she would have m
entioned it if the library was given over to ill use. So Josiah had been here recently. Probably last evening when she and Gabriel had been occupied in the music room. She was pleased he had sold his house, ready for his proposed plan to move away, and spent most of his time at temporary lodgings in Marazion.

  Rex grew restless so she pulled aside a curtain and opened one of the long windows to allow him to jump outside.

  She spied a set of small brass keys, presumably to the desk drawers, on top of some documents and picked them up, then lifted the documents and began to read them. They concerned the Wheal Lowen mine, the dates going back two and three years. Everything seemed straightforward. She had an invoice book in her hands when she was startled by a sudden loud voice. ‘You are trespassing here, Lady Tremayne.’

  She was facing the doors so Josiah must have climbed in through the window. ‘I’m tidying up, Josiah,’ she replied lightly, as if she did not care for his opinion or his hostility.

  He reached her quickly, pulled the invoice book away from her and closed it. ‘I will do that. You need not concern yourself with anything in here.’

  Kelynen would not be turned out. She stared at him, cool, uncompromising.

  The handsome dark eyes of Josiah glittered inside constricted lids. ‘I’m sure you have some sewing or something similar to attend to.’

  She ignored his derision. She didn’t trust Josiah in any regard and chose her next words carefully, watching him. ‘It’s time Gabriel showed an interest in the business affairs of the estate, especially the Wheal Lowen. It isn’t fair to allow you to continue with the burden alone.’ For several long moments he stared at her and she knew he neither liked nor respected her. A primitive unease caught at her gut. Josiah might seem weak and even pathetic at times, and he often whined like a spoiled child – a lost child now there was no doting uncle to indulge him – but now she recognized there was something even more negative than Aunt Portia’s opinion of him, something strongly insidious and deep-rooted, and perhaps even dangerous.

  ‘My brother and I have spoken about the estate. It is his wish that I maintain sole charge. Ma’am, I will have you know that I am moving out of Chenhalls for good. Hence,’ he motioned at the strewn papers, ‘I’m about to remove what I need to take with me. If you’ll excuse me, I’m too busy to linger and talk. A servant will be here shortly to carry out the things to the carriage.’

  ‘I wish you well, Josiah,’ she said without sincerity.

  ‘And I wish Gabriel and your good self a successful marriage. It’s what my uncle would have wished.’ He was now pure sarcasm. ‘A contented environment for his child.’

  ‘You can be assured that is precisely what his child will have,’ Kelynen replied, unruffled. ‘Sir Rafe would have been proud to know his greatest wish will come to pass, that a child of his will one day inherit Chenhalls.’

  Josiah leaned unacceptably close to her. ‘I’m not sure that my uncle intended to keep Chenhalls. As for Gabriel, he may feel happy to acknowledge another’s child, but he may feel differently when you produce a brat of his own one day.’

  ‘Whatever Sir Rafe may have intended, Gabriel has already decreed that the child I am carrying will remain heir to the estate.’ Kelynen stood her ground. She would not allow this insufferable man to unnerve her. However, there was much she wanted to say to Gabriel about this disagreeable encounter.

  Jacob Glynn helped Gabriel along to the master bedchamber, although anyone witnessing their unsteady passage, their chuckling and shushing, would have decided that the valet was the more intoxicated of the two.

  ‘I’d no idea my uncle kept such a splendid wine cellar, leaving aside its smuggled contents,’ Gabriel explained to Kelynen when he finally lurched up to the bed.

  ‘Is that where you’ve been all evening?’ She glanced up from the novel she was reading. ‘Did you not receive my message? I wished to speak with you.’

  Holding on to a bedpost, he chewed his lower lip. ‘I think I did. Yes, your maid sought us out, didn’t she? Jacob took the message. I don’t think he quite understood what she said. My apologies, forgive me. Wasn’t anything urgent, I hope.’

  ‘I have concerns about Josiah, but they can wait until tomorrow when you have a clearer head.’ Climbing across the bed and getting out on Gabriel’s side, Kelynen held out her hand to him. ‘Come along.’

  He grinned. He was always incorrigible when he had taken too much drink. ‘Trouble yourself not, my dear love. I c-can manage.’

  ‘You are slipping to the floor.’

  ‘I am?’ He crumpled in a heap and lay on the thick carpet, laughing. When she reached him, he used the bedcovers to haul himself to sit up and then wound his arms around her legs. ‘I love the way you never get angry with me. Caterina would have bawled my head off for this. She probably would have kicked me and declared if I fell and broke my neck it would have served me right.’

  Kelynen found it hard to understand how he could have loved the dead woman so much. She lowered herself down to him. ‘Was she different at the beginning?’

  ‘No. I was always aware of her violent temper. People warned me about her. She had destroyed many a poor man’s heart. But she fascinated me, as she had done all the others. She was ten years older than me, you know. I was lost the instant I saw her. I was drawn to her sophistication and her wiles.’

  After she had helped him take off his dressing gown and get into bed, his head resting sleepily against the pillows, she found herself curious. ‘Do you find me lacklustre in comparison to her?’

  He snapped his eyes open. ‘Good heavens, no! You’re refreshing and stimulating, and the very best of company. I’m writing some of my best music now because of you. I’m confident Luke will be pleased with what I’ve created to complement his play, and also that the King will approve of the anthem I’ve written for him.’

  Kelynen was surprised at how much it mattered to her that Gabriel thought highly of her. Each day she felt she was growing closer to him, could delve a little deeper into his mysteries. ‘Why did you and Caterina not marry?’

  ‘I would have married her in an instant but she hated the thought of being tied to one person. She would have thrown me over eventually.’ Energized now, he sat up and looked down on her. ‘I think I like being married to you. It was a good thing we were friends first, each respecting the other’s needs.’

  ‘We do have a connection,’ she said. Her forgotten book fell to the floor. She bent over the bed, picked it up and placed it on the bedside cabinet. When she turned back, Gabriel had moved in close. She thought back to the time when she had edged away from him, repulsed by his appearance. There was nothing in his fine pale looks to make her want to do so now. She did not mind being close to him. Every night she found comfort in his nearness. Throughout every day she reassured herself he wasn’t far away.

  ‘Yes, I agree, Kelynen.’ He was gazing directly into eyes.

  Kelynen gazed steadily back. She could smell the rum on his breath but it wasn’t offensive. Nothing about him was. There was everything to like. She had often marvelled how fate had kept him waiting in the background to save her from disgrace, to provide her with everything she could need. She owed him much and was willing to give him much. He was her husband and had the right to her body. One day he would choose to seek that right, and she did not find the thought in any way daunting.

  Gabriel put a hand through her hair, combing it tenderly with his fingers. His eyes were on her mouth. He swallowed. He wanted her. Curled up close to her every night, he had wanted her for some time. Trying to judge when the time was right for her. It had to be before the child made her big and cumbersome. But was it too soon? He’d hate to offend her, to lose the respect of this dear, lovely young woman who had saved his life. Made his life worth living. Kelynen did not need any sort of observances played out to her. He could ask her outright. He just needed the courage.

  ‘Can I be with you?’ he whispered.

  A short time ago it would have been
unthinkable, giving herself to another man. But she nodded.

  ‘Please don’t feel pressured into agreeing,’ he said. ‘Don’t let it be something you just want to get over – the first time with me.’

  He looked at her in a way that declared how high his hopes were that she wouldn’t accept the way out he’d offered her. She couldn’t speak, but, as if they had a will of their own, her hands reached up to his face, and she closed her eyes and tilted her lips to his.

  Gabriel put his hands gently behind her head and the next instant he was kissing her. He was making love to her and she was returning the love, and the pleasure and the passion that rose so naturally in them, with such intensity and durability, was a shock to them both.

  Twenty-Four

  ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Kelynen, you’ve been distracted all the way through the meal,’ Livvy said. The sisters were sharing a quiet luncheon at one end of the banqueting table. Another place had been set for Sophie, but she was unusually late. ‘Are you hating being with child? You’re fortunate you haven’t spread like a mass of blubber as I did both times, and have so far kept an undistorted figure. You are content still with Gabriel?’

  ‘I’ve hardly noticed my condition and I’m very content with Gabriel.’

  Her expression like a hound on a scent, Livvy prevented Kelynen putting a forkful of veal into her mouth by grabbing her arm. ‘There was a lot of emphasis on that last remark. You’re fond of him, of course. How fond?’

  To her annoyance, Kelynen couldn’t hold a non-committal gaze and reddened as she brushed off Livvy’s hand. She put the fork down, knowing she would choke if she tried to eat.

  ‘So that’s it!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You and he have come together in bed.’

  ‘Livvy!’

  ‘Don’t pretend to be coy. Or worried that your servants might overhear. There are none here at present and you can hear an approach on the stone floors. Besides, one might as well allow servants into the bedchamber – no secret can ever be kept from them.’