Pengarron Rivalry

by Pengarron Rivalry (retail) (epub)

  Having arrived expecting tantrums, Gabriel had intended to make many different appeals, pleading that he did not want a permanent estrangement, but Josiah had ducked inside and returned with a heavy ornament to throw at him, and so he had retreated. Later he had declared that he would write after a few days to Josiah, reminding him of the munificent, undeserved allowance he was to receive. Since then, Kelynen had worried that Josiah really would cause trouble.

  Her heart flew to her throat to see Gabriel now dressed in miner’s garb. He was pressing a hempen candle into the clay at the front of the brim of a hard hat. His pockets bulged with more candles to light his way in the blackness. She would never forget the fear of watching him that first time disappear down the topmost ladder of the main shaft, and the terrible wait for him to re-emerge, soiled and sweaty, over two hours later, with the partially-sighted Sol Rumford, who had been elevated to Mordecai Lambourne’s position. The new captain had been shocked at first at his new employer’s intention to go underground, but had applauded his brave spirit – even Sir Rafe had never ventured undergrass. She had been thankful and relieved, yet annoyed, to see Gabriel beaming and sparky, fervent over the experience, and more annoyed and anxious at the covert whispering that had then gone on between him and Sol Rumford. It had not occurred to her that the conversation with the short, wiry mine captain, with his dirt-ingrained hands and whiskery, sallow face, had been about the reintroduction of smuggling runs on Tremayne land.

  ‘I thought you’d be getting on with your music today,’ she said, taking up station in front of the doors of the vestibule, as if to prevent him going out. He filled the rough working clothes splendidly now he had a healthy appetite. The time spent outside meant he had lost the last of his sickly pallor.

  ‘My dear love.’ He smiled disarmingly. ‘I know your ploy. The music for the celebration we’re to have is finished.’

  ‘Then you should be thinking of creating something to sell. The estate needs money from any viable direction.’

  ‘I’ve already started on an opera for the London theatre company that wrote to me last week. I am not lazy, Kelynen.’

  This was not said with impatience. His eyes were twinkling like stars. Such humour and energy he had. She would never have believed it at their first meeting, which seemed in a different age now. Gabriel was certainly a different man. One she liked enormously. One she liked to touch and kiss her and deluge her with all manner of attention. She was pleased to do the same to him. She pressed her hands on the collar of his coat. ‘Stay home.’

  He placed his hands over hers, bent his head and kissed her lips. His voice fell low and husky, something else she liked. ‘I will, gladly. But I’ll still go to the mine. It warms me that you worry about me, but I promise you that I take every care. My first day undergrass I ordered iron ladders instead of the wooden ones for the main shaft. No more falls because of treacherous or missing rungs while the men are climbing, when they are often at their most vulnerable. I want to see if the ladders are all securely in position.’

  ‘Promise one thing more.’

  ‘You are being artful, but I mind not at all.’ He was holding her in the way of a man lost in desire.

  ‘Never go down the mine unless you tell me first. I have a special prayer, which I say for you each time. Then I shall be more at ease.’

  ‘You’re so good to me, darling. You have my promise. Come to the stables with me?’

  The horse was saddled and waiting long before they emerged from a secret corner of the stableyard. She held on to him and whispered her prayer. Bring him back, blessed Lord, for I could not bear to lose another. And I shall remain always in Your service. He kissed her one last time and mounted, then blew her a kiss goodbye. Digory trotted off with him.

  She stood alone on the cobbles and watched him clatter away. There had been something else she had meant to tell him, concerning Josiah. But it could wait for when he came home. She wanted him to stay blessed by her prayer. Rex bounded up to her. Sensing her quiet mood, he walked solemnly beside her to the tomb.

  She touched the big iron ring, said hello to Rafe, and then sat on the stone seat. She was deeply troubled. Since the extent of Josiah’s rottenness had come to light she had wondered if he was somehow involved in the treachery that had led to Rafe’s death. It was an irrational thought. Josiah had had much to gain from the sale of the gold. Indeed, with his inheritance prematurely spent, he must have been counting on it. But she couldn’t get it out of her mind that somehow he might have done or said something, albeit not deliberately or consciously. Josiah was a weasel, a cheat and a liar. The way he had taunted Sophie meant he was also brutal. Gabriel had humiliated and infuriated him. Josiah was a cornered rat and as such could be dangerous. Pray God, he would soon leave Mount’s Bay for good, but what was delaying him?

  Disturbed and alarmed, she repeated aloud the prayer she had not long said. Memories of Rafe’s ruined body lying in his coffin made her fight back anguished tears. She didn’t want the same thing to happen to Gabriel, either from an accident in the mine or through another’s treachery. She sprang up from the bench. It was no longer a place of peace and homage. Death and gloom seemed all around her. Thoughts of Josiah had made her feel morbid. He was a whining coward but he might well seek revenge. She knew that need. It was something she tried to forget, but she longed for retribution on all those responsible for Rafe’s death. Gabriel had forbidden her, when the time came, to attend the hangings at Launceston gaol when those who might be found guilty were rightfully punished. She didn’t particularly want to witness them swinging, their legs kicking, their final bodily indignities, but she’d have liked to question each one for clues as to the full truth of the butchery.

  Suddenly she was weary. And she felt strange. She had been overtaxing herself and these gruesome thoughts were greatly unsettling. She would be sensible and lie down in her room, and hopefully sleep. When she awoke, Gabriel would be home and they would spend a pleasant evening together.

  * * *

  Gabriel was met with pandemonium at the Wheal Lowen. Work had stopped. Women were weeping and wailing, huddled together with the men who were not on core and those, still work-stained, who had come up early from below. Fretful children were bawled at to keep quiet.

  Sol Rumford came hurrying towards him. ‘Sir! I was about to send someone to ’ee. There’s been a rock fall. At least three men dead, the injured’ve been carried to the office. Surgeon’s been sent for. There’s two missing.’

  ‘Which level?’ Gabriel threw himself off his horse and tossed the reins to a miner.

  ‘Bottom. Eighty fathoms.’

  ‘But that’s newly blasted and dug out. The tunnels were progressing well, you’ve said. When can we climb down and investigate?’

  ‘When we get word the air’s cleared, or there’ll be more dead.’

  ‘How long will that take?’

  ‘Could be hours, but in this case ’tis reckoned on two or three.’

  ‘Until we can go down I’ll talk to all concerned and see the injured. Anything life-threatening?’

  They started off for the office. ‘A boy took a mighty blow to the head. Don’t reckon on his chances. His mother ’n’ father is with him. Sir, with respect…’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Well, I, um, don’t think you should be thinking of going below grass today.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I won’t get in the way.’

  Before a search and rescue party was cleared to climb down to the eighty-fathom level, the boy died. Gabriel was aware that he was out under the sea, with thousands of tons of rock overhead, and although he could not hear the Channel waters thundering and surging and frothing up overhead, he fancied he could, with its unstoppable, timeless rhythm. It was a long, long wait on the platform, where he stayed, as promised, out of the way. The flame from the candle on his hat brim flared and cast his shadow eerily on the man-made walls. He stood and he stamped his feet and he rubbed his chilled hands together
. He thought about the dead men. He prayed for their families. He pondered over the cause of the accident, and how fate had had its indeterminate grip on each individual. Tragedy anywhere was not uncommon, nor was death from disease. His uncle had tempted fate by taking a tremendous risk and had paid the cost. But Caterina… her death had been totally unforeseen. Childbirth took many women each year. He was suddenly afraid for Kelynen. He couldn’t lose her now, he couldn’t!

  ‘I love you!’ he suddenly blurted out loud in surprise. As the strange echoes of his profound three words seered up the shaft and died away, he sat down on the platform, huddled over, his eyes closed. His voice came soft and emotional. ‘Dear God, Kelynen, I really do love you.’

  Everything else forgotten, he stayed still. When he opened his eyes he scrambled back in fright, clinging to the bottom rung of the ladder. Caterina’s fierce face was before him, her eyes red and accusing and taunting. Then the contorted image vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, but left him shaking. He knew it had only occurred because there was so little oxygen down here, but he couldn’t shake off the impression she had come to warn him he must stay true to her.

  Hours passed. One by one the three bodies were located and dug out from the rubble and finally pulled up the hundreds of sets of ladders by rope. It would be small comfort to the widows and mothers to be able to bury them in a proper Christian funeral. Another body was found and treated the same way. A fifth man was found, barely alive, his arms badly broken, his back slashed and bleeding from bending over to shield himself. The rock fall had cut him off in a pocket of air and allowed him to breathe. Shocked and disorientated from his injuries and from being so long in total darkness, his passage up to grass was more difficult, but his workmates attended him with every care.

  It became necessary for Gabriel to light a second candle. Being down the mine was no longer an exciting quest. The air was old and stale and cold, yet he sweated and burned. Tapping his boots on the platform, he felt the planks were old and soft. There was an overwhelming smell of dank stagnant water. It was costly to be down this deep; the engines had to work harder to pump out the water so the workings did not flood, and the constant boom and pulse of the engines – usually a comfort, for it felt as if something lived down here – began to grate on his nerves. His repect for the miners and their hard lives took on a new meaning. Every other thought, however, included Kelynen, and he pictured her lovely smiling face to offset the discomforts and the morbid apprehension left from Caterina’s vengeful image. If he were as superstitious as the Cornish he’d have believed there was trouble in store. He was anxious to leave here and go home to Kelynen. He longed to hold her and he needed her to hold him so very much.

  The long wait was at last over, and, shivering and damp, in space only large enough for a worker with head bent over and pushing a wheelbarrow, he edged along the tunnel behind Sol Rumford to take a close look at where the miners had met their deaths. The steady, relentless drippings of slimy green water made footholds precarious, and his eyes were stinging. The fug from his candle, and the cheaper dips the miners used, also stung his eyes. Breathing was laboured, sounding strange, seeming to bounce off the bare rock.

  ‘Any idea what happened yet, Rumford? A blasting accident?’

  ‘’Twadn’t that, sir. They didn’t stand a chance though, God rest ’em.’

  Gabriel tilted his head and the light from his candle lighted a piece of jagged timber. With a jackknife he stabbed the wood. It was old and soft, almost porous. ‘Why is all the wood so old down here? A consignment of Pengarron timber was ordered specifically for this level. Why use all this rotten stuff? Did the supply run out?’

  ‘There was some new timber. Not much. ’Twas used up after only a few yards of tunnelling, then we made do with whatever we could find.’

  ‘So as far as you’re concerned the mine was expecting a far larger consignment? What do you suppose happened to the rest?’

  ‘Well, sir.’ Sol Rumford scratched his nose, surprised at the questions, resigned, like the rest of the workforce, to be given what they were given and that was the end of the matter. ‘’Twadn’t for us to wonder on.’

  ‘I’ll look into this. And I’ll order some more timber to be urgently delivered. I don’t want anyone working in unstable conditions, Sol. Make a note of lost wages. I’ll make full compensation.’

  * * *

  Kelynen was unable to rest. As the day wore on and evening fell, she fretted at how long Gabriel had been out. She felt ever stranger, in ways she had never experienced before. Worried about the progress of Rafe’s baby in her womb, she ordered Hettie Hayes to send for Dr Menheniott.

  Twenty-Seven

  And you’re confident there’s nothing wrong with the pregnancy, Dr Menheniott?’ Gabriel asked the question again to reassure Kelynen, who was wound up with anxiety.

  After climbing up to grass he had become anxious on learning that the doctor had been summoned to the great house. Still in his dirt-encrusted miner’s suit, he stood back from the bed and watched Kelynen’s whole being sag in relief. Her eyes snapped on him and he knew she was displeased that he had gone down the shaft during the rescue.

  ‘This sort of thing is not uncommon,’ the young physician replied matter-of-factly, including them both in his deliberation. ‘Her ladyship’s body is undergoing a major change. In fact it is being invaded, you might say. Feeling strange is not to be thought of as anything amiss. You should both expect to be parents of a healthy child in five months.’

  ‘Surely you mean three months?’ Kelynen frowned at what she saw as a stupid mistake. This day had turned out to be one of the most frustrating of her life.

  ‘No. No. The size of the foetus is conducive with sixteen weeks’ gestation.’

  ‘It can’t be!’ Kelynen went pale. She was overcome with horror. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ For all his reassurances, Dr Menheniott was confused. He twitched his frizzed wig and put his hand inside his small stand collar. His patient was trembling and Sir Gabriel had hauled in a sharp breath. ‘Do you still feel something is wrong?’

  ‘The pregnancy is more advanced, at six months along,’ Kelynen insisted, feeling numb, unreal and afraid. ‘Is my baby not growing properly inside me?’

  ‘I don’t think that’s the case. It sounds to me as if you’ve got your dates wrong, milady.’

  ‘Then this means…’ Suddenly Kelynen ripped back the bedcovers and leapt out on to the carpet. In her lace-trimmed cotton nightgown she glared at Gabriel with fury and a sort of madness. ‘This could only mean…’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ the doctor said, nonplussed, finding it hard in the strangeness of the situation to speak with authority. ‘Lady Tremayne, I advise you to get back into bed immediately and rest.’

  ‘Would you leave us alone, Dr Menheniott?’ Gabriel said evenly, but with a detectable tremor. ‘You’ll find refreshment awaiting you in the banqueting hall.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure my services are no longer required.’

  ‘They aren’t. Get out!’ Kelynen screamed at him. Irrationally, she wanted to hurt him for being the bearer of this terrible news. ‘Get out, both of you. I don’t want either of you here.’

  Dr Menheniott gathered up his bag and left the room, but worried about his patient, he lingered outside the double doors.

  ‘Try to stay calm, Kelynen.’ Gabriel came towards her.

  ‘Get away from me! It’s your baby I have inside me. I don’t want it. I want Rafe’s baby. I thought I was with child by him, but I wasn’t, and now I’ve conceived yours. It makes Rafe really dead. There’s to be no child of his. There’s nothing left of him. He’s gone forever.’ She rushed at Gabriel, and because she needed to hurt someone, she smashed a hand across his stricken face and started beating her fists on his chest. ‘Rafe is dead! I loved him and he’s dead! I’ll never see him again. His child meant I’d have had a part of him forever. I don’t want your baby. I don’t want you. Do you hear
? Get out! Get away from me. Don’t ever come near me again!’

  Gradually he managed to still her clawing hands and pin her arms down. He was forced to hold her in his strongest grip. ‘Stop it please, Kelynen. You’re hysterical.’

  For several moments she thrashed and gritted her teeth. And all the time she stared at him from sharded eyes as if she loathed him, as if she blamed him for every part of her distress. Gabriel’s heart grew heavy, his every hope lost. Her next words were uttered in contempt, one biting word at a time. ‘I want to be alone. Let go of me. Leave. Leave!’

  ‘I’ll do as you ask but only if you promise to keep control. Otherwise you’ll make yourself ill and I shall call for Dr Menheniott’s assistance.’

  ‘I just need to be alone. Can’t you understand that?’ Slowly he unfurled his arms from her. She stepped back on tremulous legs, grabbing the bed. She climbed up on it, lay down with her back to him, curled up and became as still as stone. Gabriel looked down on her. ‘I’ll come back in ten minutes.’

  She didn’t answer. He knew she had shut herself off from him and her surroundings and was again deep in grief for his uncle. He was fearful that the madness that had robbed her of reason might stay and affect her for some time. When he reached the door he thought he heard something. He listened. It was a strange murmuring. Kelynen was chanting. He went back to her, leaned over her until he could hear what she was saying. Over and over again, she repeated under her breath, ‘Rafe’s dead. Rafe’s dead. Rafe’s dead.’

  He hastened from the room and was relieved to find Dr Menheniott there. ‘Did you hear?’

  ‘I took the liberty of remaining in attendance,’ he replied grimly.

  ‘I’m so worried. She seems to have lost all sense of reality.’

  Dr Menheniott regained the bedside. ‘She needs sedating and someone must stay with her at all times. You should send for her parents. She is very close to her father, I understand. She will need him.’