Pengarron Rivalry

by Pengarron Rivalry (retail) (epub)

  Gradually, Kelynen’s mouth sagged open as she took in Beatrice’s chastisement. Gone was the old woman’s ugly indulgent grin. She was choking and spluttering with the urgent delivery of her harsh words. ‘And he wouldn’t like for you to be treating young Gabrall so. You nursed him back to health and vigour backalong. Want to see him going into a decline again? You must stop being so selfish, cruel even, Kelynen. I for one don’t b’lieve the poor man deserves it!’

  Kelynen went limp and the cushion dropped from her hands. Rex whined, and she reached for him and cuddled in to his warm, broad head. ‘It’s all right, Rex.’

  ‘Is it?’ Beatrice asked. ‘Will everything be all right, Kelynen? Or are you going to go on making everyone’s life a rotten, uncalled-for misery?’

  Kelynen kept quiet for some time and there was no telling what were her thoughts. Then, in bland tones, she said, ‘Just as you have said, Beatrice, I am duty conscious. I’ll send for some food and for my things to be packed. Before nightfall I shall return to Chenhalls.’

  * * *

  She heard Gabriel’s music coming from outside. Afraid he was once more wasting away in the tower folly she ran through the house. He was there on the lawn with his violin, his back to her, his hair draping long and free. She couldn’t bear the tune. There was something sinister and morbid about it and it chilled her to the bones.

  Reaching him she put out a hand and touched his arm. ‘Don’t! Don’t, Gabriel.’

  He stopped with the bow halfway across the strings, the last note echoing eerily all the way down to the sunken garden. He looked sideways, not believing his eyes, as if seeing a ghost. ‘Kelynen?’

  ‘Yes. I’m back. Come inside. It’s getting dark and there’s a chill gathering.’

  A short time later she went to him in the library. He had only a few candles lit, their glow casting gloomy shadows and menacing blackness in the depths of the room. ‘Jacob told me you have taken up domain in here.’ She put a tray of food down on the desk where his hands were folded dejectedly on top of some papers. ‘He’s also told me you’ve given up on meals again.’

  ‘I eat,’ he said simply.

  She knew there was an element of wariness in those two carefully polite words and she felt wrung out, hardly able to cope with the guilt of what she’d done to him along with her own sorrows. But she would try to take care of him, and the house, and all those under Tremayne benefaction. She would work hard, give over her every thought to them, and exhaust herself every day in the hope she would sleep through every night and give herself no time to think and grieve and give way to panic. That way she might somehow get through the rest of her life. ‘Apparently you pick and then leave most of what’s on your plate.’

  He glanced at the steaming-hot lamb stew, cold duck meat, vegetables, fruit, nuts and cheeses, and half a cottage loaf. There was also a pint tankard of porter. ‘I thank you for this.’

  She moved round the desk and looked down on the report beneath his hands, of the installation of tunnel props in the Wheal Lowen. ‘The mine is fully operational again?’

  ‘It is?’ He fiddled with the quill, his eyes darting uncertainly.

  ‘You have done well.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘I’ll cut the bread and stay and eat with you.’

  ‘This is not the place for consuming food. There are too many valuable books and papers. Ring for the tray to be removed to the hall. I’ll join you there. Later.’

  ‘If we’re careful we’ll not make any harm.’

  ‘It will encourage mice.’

  She stood in front of him but he would not meet her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Gabriel. Sorry that I’ve hurt you so badly, I mean.’

  ‘Fate has been cruel to both of us.’ Carefully he put the quill down. No sigh. No dramatics.

  It cut through every inch of Kelynen’s heart. The fateful mistake she had made in assuming she was pregnant with Rafe’s child had cost him as dear as her. Beatrice had said there were many reasons why nature sometimes paid a late visit to a woman – a change of circumstances, a fright, an illness, excitement, or simply the unexplained. There was no point in making a catalogue of ‘if onlys’. The thing she shouldn’t have done was to accept so readily Gabriel’s compassionate offer. She had been selfish, almost conniving. Not far at the back of her mind she had always wanted Chenhalls, and she hadn’t wanted to leave Rafe, even if all that was left of him was in a tomb. Gabriel didn’t deserve this. Guilt, humility and recompense would make her a good wife to him. Gabriel was so good and caring that likely he would forgive her. ‘You would have been in Vienna by now.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Content.’

  ‘Perhaps. But I know now that I did not love Caterina.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  He stared at her, gravely. ‘Because I now know what it is really like to be in love with someone.’

  ‘You mean with me?’ The horror was etched on her face. Before she could speak, he got up and raised his hands to silence her. ‘Kelynen, I have removed my things from the master bedchamber. I am back in my old room. Excuse me. I have formed the habit of walking with Digory about this time every night.’

  Her tears were now for Gabriel. ‘Oh, God, what have I done?’

  Thirty

  Livvy was on her way to Chenhalls. Lost in thoughts about how she could possibly cheer Kelynen, or even Gabriel, she was startled by movement behind a bank of gorse and tall ferns. She thought it was a small animal but then heard giggling. She reined in. A group of mucky, saucy young faces popped up one at a time and disappeared in the same way as if being pressed by some mechanism.

  She laughed and called to the children to come out. They did so, scrambling through the ferns and defiantly stamping over brambles, ignoring the close proximity of the gorse’s barbarous spines, finally presenting themselves in an untidy huddle beside of her pony. With the Wheal Lowen not far ahead, she presumed they were miners’ children. The eldest boy among the eight of them wiped a hand on his threadbare shirt, all eyes on her expectantly, hoping for a farthing or two, or a sweetmeat.

  ‘Good morning,’ Livvy said, her eyes roaming over their faces. She could pick some good subjects to paint amongst this lot. Some had coarse and tanned skin, some were gaunt and pale, and some had the scars of illnesses. Their ages ranged from about three years to nine, their sizes skinny to stocky. The eldest boy, who must be their leader, for he stood a few commanding inches in front of them, had raven-black hair and had the look of the Tremaynes about him. Seemingly either Rafe or Josiah had dallied with a mine maiden. There were rumours of a lot of illegitimate Tremaynes in Mount’s Bay. With Rafe dead and Josiah about to leave at any time, the possibility of any more in the future would come to an end. She thanked heaven she had not encountered the obnoxious Josiah again.

  ‘Do your parents work at the Wheal Lowen?’

  The eldest boy shrugged his shoulders, wary, insolent. ‘You going to see Sir Gabriel?’

  ‘I might be. Is he at the mine now?’

  ‘He might be.’

  Livvy raised her head to show that she was the superior here. The boy copied her. Here was a proud individual, quick-witted and intelligent, she thought, and he’d look perfect in his tatters perched on a high set of granite, with the mine buildings and then the sea in the distance. She produced a penny and held it up between finger and thumb. ‘Is he?’

  In a flash the boy had transferred the penny into his own rough paw. ‘’Ais, been there since day breaked.’

  Livvy was about to ask if he was going to be a miner, but then she noticed, with a small shock of horror at what would have been an insensitive blunder, that his other hand was missing, the result of some grisly accident judging by the scars on his dangling stump. She saw that some of the other children also had disabilities; one had a humped back. She hoped they weren’t considered misfits and unloved, but they seemed cheerful enough. Then she remembered Kelynen had mentioned she and Gabriel were hoping that the scho
ol, soon to be completed at Trewarras, would provide the necessary education for a number of disabled and sickly children to find some suitable work. ‘You know all the comings and goings at the mine then?’ she said, to keep the boy’s interest.

  ‘You hoping to meet someone partic’lar?’ He raised an eyebrow, seeming older and wiser in a way he should not – he definitely had Tremayne blood in him.

  ‘I’d like to meet your parents,’ she replied evenly. ‘I’d like to make a painting of you. Do you think they’d allow me to?’

  The boy wrinkled his nicely proportioned nose. ‘Get paid, will I?’

  ‘I’d make the arrangements with your parents. I presume they live in the mine village?’

  ‘They’re both at the workings now. Mother’s cobbing ore. Father’s down shaft. Go ’n’ ask Mother. She’ll say ’tis all right, certain sure… Missus Lanyon.’

  ‘You know my name, but that does not surprise me.’ Livvy smiled at his attempt to look cunning. ‘What are you called?’

  ‘I know lots of things.’ He tapped beside an eye. ‘Got two gooduns of these, I have. I see a lot. My name’s Jowan Bray.’

  ‘Well, Jowan Bray,’ Livvy felt in her purse for some small coins for the other children, ‘I’ll probably be seeing you again.’

  She rode on, leaving the children to exclaim over their unexpected good fortune and the exciting prospect of posing for the lovely lady. She wouldn’t go to the mine but would leave word at Chenhalls asking Gabriel to present her proposition to Jowan Bray’s father. She couldn’t bring herself to go to the Wheal Lowen. It was a dirty, dusty, noisy, frightening place. And she needed to see Kelynen. Perhaps it would cheer her to learn that things seemed more settled between Luke and Sophie, especially now Luke had some kind of new diverting business in Truro. How could she encourage Kelynen to seek contentment with Gabriel? Actually, Kelynen was making endeavours, out of guilt and compassion, Livvy supposed, to form a good marriage. It was Gabriel who seemed to want to keep a distance, understandable after the way he had been hurt.

  Livvy rode on a few more yards then swung her pony round to head for the mine. She decided she must forget her distaste for the mine and seek an audience with her brother-in-law. Gabriel must be feeling that he had no one to talk to, and it was probably just what he needed to do.

  Gabriel was told of her arrival and he hurried out to her at the fringes of the workings, where the noise was not so ear-splitting and the air was more breathable. ‘What brings you here, Livvy? Is something wrong?’

  Before answering, Livvy waited for him to give her the customary kisses on both cheeks. His lips were warm and firm and he was always good to be close to. Kelynen needed to find a way to break through his diffidence or another woman just might manage to do so. Few women in the bay had seen him, but he was gaining a soulful character that was enticing. Some declared they’d liked to console him. Many found his desire to go readily down the mine depths daring and exciting. There was much talk about his fair good looks. He had even been approached to write music for a lady. Knowing the person concerned, Livvy knew the request was in the hope it would be a personal dedication to her.

  ‘I’m concerned about you, Gabriel, you and Kelynen. Please don’t tell me not to interfere. I want to help.’

  The little light he had in his eyes drained away. ‘I’m not given to talking about my private life, Livvy.’

  ‘You might feel better if you tried.’ She was relieved that he was not dressed to go underground. ‘Could we not go somewhere and talk? I was on my way to Chenhalls but it’s an unplanned visit so Kelynen is not expecting me.’

  ‘It wouldn’t do any good.’

  ‘You must forgive her, Gabriel.’

  ‘I have,’ he sighed, swinging his head hopelessly. ‘I understand why she behaved as she did. She doesn’t want my baby and she’ll never stop loving my uncle. Chenhalls is running well, the mine isn’t doing too badly, the living standards of the people are being raised daily. That’s all that matters.’

  ‘No, it isn’t. Neither you nor Kelynen can go on living like this. You’ll end up destroying yourselves. You both need love. You both need to find a way to comfort each other, like you did before, or everything inside you will shrivel and die. You’re both working hard for the estate, but while everyone needs a purpose in life, it needs to be done for the right reasons, for personal fulfilment, or you’ll only ever live half a life.

  ‘Kelynen was cruel to you, but she didn’t mean to be. It was a shock to her, learning the child wasn’t Rafe’s. I believe, and so do Timothy and all my family, that her feelings for Rafe were mere infatuation, that eventually she would have been dreadfully unhappy with him. Rafe was kind and fun but he was also selfish. He was going to take Kelynen away from everything and everyone she held dear and she would have lived a life unsuited to her. Fate, in a grim way, has been kind to her. Given the right circumstances, she’ll see it too, I’m sure she will. She is trying to make amends, to make a future for you both. I beg you to respond, Gabriel, before she stops trying, or there will be two empty shells living at Chenhalls.’ Livvy suddenly shuddered. ‘I find that frightening.’

  ‘So do I,’ Gabriel said sadly. He didn’t believe he could feel any emptier, but he didn’t want that for Kelynen. She had showed she cared about him in many ways. Last night she had come to him in the music room and waited for him to finish playing the violin.

  ‘That was definitely one of your best pieces,’ she’d said enthusiastically. ‘It has a haunting medieval theme. It was wonderful. Luke will feel highly favoured to have such splendid music to complement his Arthurian play.’

  He’d brought the violin down from under his chin. ‘I suppose it will do. The carpenters will start on the staging next week.’ He always kept the talk between them nonpersonal and she already knew this. He had gone ahead and made all the arrangements, including hiring the troupe of travelling actors Luke had recommended without consulting her. He knew she must have minded, but she had not shown it.

  ‘The whole estate is looking forward to the play and the dancing afterward,’ she’d said, omitting the other initial intention for the day – a late celebration of their marriage, inappropriate now.

  He’d shrugged and placed the violin on top of the spinet. ‘I think I’ll take a walk. Excuse me. Come along, Digory.’

  He thought now how rude he had been. She’d smiled, and he’d known she had been trying to make him reciprocate, but he had not wanted any of the rigid corners of his heart to be softened. He couldn’t bear her being nice to him just because she felt she should be. But Livvy was right. Kelynen had been trying to make something of their marriage. On the day of her return from Pengarron Manor she had abandoned the master bedchamber and returned to her former room. She’d kept the door on her side of the dressing room unlocked, but he had never strayed into her territory and his aloofness had made it clear that he had not wanted her in his. But he did! He wanted to be with her in either bed. He wanted more than anything to make love to her again. He wanted her to love him back. But that would never happen if he went on being miserable.

  One day she had come to him in the summer house. ‘I’ve a surprise for you. I hope you approve. I’ve commissioned Livvy to paint your portrait.’

  He’d shaken his head. ‘It’s a kind thought but I’ve no wish to have my likeness placed in this house.’ He felt he didn’t belong in this horrible place.

  ‘Very well, I’ll tell Livvy.’ She had gone away quietly. But what if she never thought of kind ideas for him again? What if, instead of going away quietly, she never came to him at all? What if she stopped listening to his music? Or locked her connecting bedroom door?

  Gabriel grew frightened and now, more than anything, he wanted his terrible emptiness to go, and he hated himself for stubbornly staying so detached from Kelynen. He realized that he had been punishing her for her reaction to Dr Menheniott’s shocking confirmation about her baby’s dates. Suddenly he longed to go home – not to retu
rn to Chenhalls, as he’d previously thought of it – but home to his wife. To tell her he was sorry and that he wanted a new understanding, a chance to prove he was worthy of her and all her consideration.

  ‘Livvy, stay here; I’ll fetch my horse and ride with you. But I beg you to call on my aunt. I want to talk to Kelynen alone.’

  Moments later, while she waited in hopeful anticipation that her talk with Gabriel would prove worthwhile, Livvy was greeted by Dr Menheniott, who was taking his leave after the monthly clinic. ‘I’m pleased to see Sir Gabriel at last looking purposeful,’ he said, pulling his timepiece out of his waistcoat pocket. Something caught in the long silver chain fluttered down to the ground.

  ‘What’s that?’ Livvy asked, feeling she should recognize the scrap of pink cloth lying there.

  ‘Oh, this?’ The doctor picked it up and frowned at it. ‘I found it on the floor after one of my patients had left and I tucked it away lest the wrong person claimed it. I forgot about it. Something pretty, I suppose, to brighten up an ordinary girl’s life. I suppose I’d better take it back to the office.’

  Livvy held out her hand. ‘May I see it?’ Shortly afterward, she told the doctor and Gabriel, ‘We need to speak urgently to whoever it was that had this piece of silk.’

  Thirty-One

  Kelynen was in Lady Portia’s bedchamber. She had arranged with Mrs Barton that as soon as her ladyship went out into the gardens with her entourage, the carpets would be scrubbed and disinfected to rid this corner of the house of the offensive dog smells. The maids had done an excellent job, and Kelynen was feeding the fire with logs to help dry the damp carpets.

  She made sure all the windows were wide open, and saw Lady Portia sitting in the rose arbour, where she liked to linger near the multi-coloured, highly scented blooms, and remember Rafe posing there for his portrait. It was a pity Gabriel had refused to have his portrait painted. His handsome fair features would have added something special and wonderful to the Tremayne gallery. She was surprised to think of the words special and wonderful, but that was what Gabriel was. And so much more. How could she have forgotten that? How could she have treated him so callously? He had never done anything to hurt her, yet she had screamed at him that she didn’t want him near her. She was confident he had forgiven her. Gabriel didn’t bear grudges, but probably because he was afraid of another rejection he remained determined to keep his distance.