‘Aye, he did and I did. His name’s Zack Maynard, a sailor. He said he would do business with us.’
‘Oh, I can hardly believe it. I can’t wait to tell Livvy. Perhaps it will drag her away from her paintings. It’s all she wants to do these days. What was he like, this Zack Maynard? Did you have much trouble getting to speak to him?’
‘For crying out loud, Cordelia, calm down,’ Jessica exhorted her friend, ‘or the others will get suspicious. As it is I’m sure Philip saw me following him. I only hope he doesn’t ask me about it because I don’t know what on earth to tell him. Zack Maynard gave me the slip at one point, then he crept up on me in an alleyway. Nearly frightened the life out of me.’
‘What’s he like though? Is he good-looking?’
‘You and your romantic notions,’ Jessica scoffed, but not unkindly. ‘He’s inside his thirties, clean and tidy and quite ordinary-looking, I suppose, but there was something deep about his eyes. He said he’d get in touch with me again.’
‘I won’t be able to sleep tonight for thinking about it. You are brave, Jessie. I’d have dropped dead in fright for certain if he’d crept up on me in an alleyway.’
‘Well, I’d better go back inside and shoo the men out of the kitchen so Kerris can get on with the dishes,’ Jessica said, and added to herself, and keep an eye open for Kane Pengarron so I can make myself scarce. ‘You coming?’
‘In a little while. I think I’d better calm myself or I’m afraid my face will give away our secret.’
When Jessica was back inside, Cordelia thought to stroll round the perimeter of the yard and then go in to help with the clearing up. She literally jumped off her feet when a male voice surprised her. She backed away towards the stall.
‘You looked as if you were about to go for a walk,’ Philip said. ‘Take my arm and we’ll go together.’
‘No! No, thank you. I was about to go in and help Jessica.’
‘Well, you’re going the wrong way for that.’
Cordelia realised she was still taking backward steps and cried out in terror as her slight body touched Tally, Clem’s mare. She had been kicked by one of the Pengarron horses when a child, and had been terrified of them ever since.
‘There’s no need to be afraid,’ Philip said, imprisoning her against the mare’s flank with his arms as he stroked its back. ‘Tally’s as gentle as a baby.’
‘Please… let me get away,’ Cordelia gasped out.
‘You don’t want to stay scared of horses all of your life, do you, Cordelia?’ Philip asked soothingly. ‘Don’t you know that if you face a fear, you can conquer it?’
‘Please…’
A sprinkling of tears appeared along Cordelia’s eyelashes. Philip put one hand under her tiny chin and wiped the tears away from an eye with his thumb.
‘Just turn round slowly. I’ll be here all the time. Just look at Tally, she won’t hurt you.’
‘No, I want to go!’ Cordelia snatched at his hand in panic and moved forward but this only put her in contact with his body.
‘It’s all right. Just turn round and look at her. If you get over your fear now you’ll be glad you did for ever. Save you walking everywhere or having to ask for a carriage every time you want to go out.’
Cordelia’s eyes grew huge in her little face and she prayed silently to be taken out of the stall. Philip put his hands on her shoulders and began to turn her round. She fought against him but he was too strong and then she was facing the mare.
Tally had no interest in them and had her head lowered, feeding from a scattering of hay on the ground. Cordelia hurled panicky hands backwards and grasped at Philip’s shirt. She stared at Tally in terror. The smell of the mare filled her nostrils and her stricken eyes were stinging with tears.
Philip slid his hand down her arm until it reached her hand. He disentangled her fingers from his shirt and they caught at his rough hand, digging in. Her head was pressed in hard against his breastbone. She wanted to close her eyes, shut out the picture of her terror, but her eyelids were frozen.
When Philip reached out with her hand in his, Cordelia began to blubber, ‘No, no… I’ll die…’
‘You won’t die, Cordelia, just trust me. It’ll be all over in a minute and then I’ll take you away. Touch Tally, just a little, and you’ll see there’s nothing to fear from a horse.’
Firmly holding her wrist, Philip ran her taut, splayed fingers an inch along Tally’s withers. ‘There, that’s all there is to it. How did it feel?’
‘She’s warm and smooth,’ Cordelia murmured.
After a few moments he said, ‘Try again.’
Cordelia let him place her hand on Tally’s broad back. He took his hand away and put his arm round her waist and held her close. ‘Move your hand, just a little,’ he whispered in her ear.
Cordelia’s hand shook as she moved it towards Tally’s shoulder, then she snatched it away.
‘You’re doing fine. See, she’s completely harmless. Tally’s as gentle as a lamb, she wouldn’t hurt a fly.’
‘She’s so big,’ Cordelia whispered.
‘She wouldn’t seem so threatening if you weren’t so small.’
Philip lifted Cordelia off her feet until her head was on the same level as his. ‘See, Tally don’t look so big from up here, do she?’
‘N-no.’
‘Why don’t you touch her one more time, then I’ll take you outside.’
Cordelia waited for him to take her hand again but Philip kept his arms round her narrow waist.
‘Try on your own,’ he urged her.
She put her hand out hesitantly and stroked Tally’s back in a rapid movement. Feeling a little less scared, she pushed her head into Philip’s chest again and ran her hand all the way down the mare’s back to her hindquarters. Tally lifted her head and looked at her. Cordelia gasped and grabbed at Philip’s body.
‘’Tis all right,’ he said softly, ‘she’s only saying hello to you.’
He waited until Tally returned to her feed, then stepped back with Cordelia nestled against him. She turned sharply and threw herself into his arms. He stroked her soft dark hair.
‘’Tis all over, you’re perfectly safe.’
Cordelia felt her legs go and he lifted her up and carried her deeper into the barn. Sitting down on a bale of hay, he cradled her on his lap. She sat subdued but her hands were clenched tight, her arms held stiff.
Philip took her chin and lifted her face to look at him. ‘You must feel very proud of yourself,’ he said gently.
‘I feel terrible.’ She shivered.
‘You’ll stop shaking in a minute. Sorry to have forced you to touch Tally but I saw it as an opportunity not to be missed. You’ll feel much easier around horses from now on. I’ll help you, if you like.’
‘Will you let me go, Philip?’ Cordelia asked, struggling to free herself, thinking how unseemly it must look for her to be sitting on his lap.
Philip complied. He didn’t want her to become terrified of him and have his plans to romance her spoiled but he kept his hands on her arms so she couldn’t flee from him.
‘Are you steady?’ he asked kindly, smiling with all his charm.
‘My legs still feel weak,’ she admitted.
‘You’re welcome to lean on me as long as you like,’ he said huskily.
Cordelia looked up at him and gulped. She had never been this close to a man outside her family before, and this man, so sought after, often ruthlessly, by many of the local females, had held her as close as a man could get.
‘Cordelia, you know I have a great regard for you.’
‘Have you? I mean, let me go, Philip… Please, I must go…’
Philip stood up and gathered her in. Holding the back of her head, he brought his lips to meet hers. Cordelia had no strength to fight against him and coped with the kiss by shutting her eyes tightly and trying to think of something else.
‘It’ll be good when you get used to it,’ Philip said, preparing for a second h
elping.
‘No! I’ll never like it!’ Cordelia cried. ‘Let go of me!’
‘I don’t think you understand. I’m not amusing myself with you, my dear Cordelia. I think very highly of you. I think perhaps that I love you. I think we would be good together.’
‘What on earth do you mean by that?’ Cordelia said angrily. ‘Good together for what? If you mean—’
‘No, no, Cordelia. You’re getting me all wrong. I’m not asking you to lie with me. I’m asking you to marry me.’
‘You’re what? How dare you! I couldn’t trust a man like you. You care only for yourself and what could you possibly offer me in a marriage?’
Philip was shocked at Cordelia’s outrage. He had expected her to be flattered, even grateful.
‘Well, I can offer you a lot,’ he replied, frowning but trying to keep his voice soft and kind. ‘I’ll have the tenancy of Trecath-en Farm one day. David’s not interested in it. My father doesn’t know it yet but David’s planning on going off later in the year, with Simon Peter Blake, to be a preacher. You’ve seen for yourself what my father has done for the farm and if we get married, Sir Oliver would probably give it to us. I’ve got more ambition than my father. I’ve got bigger plans for the farm, Cordelia. I’ve got money put by earned by betting on wrestling matches and from other means.’ Philip couldn’t conceal his pride but Cordelia knocked him off the pedestal of his own making.
‘And plans for the money from my dowry, no doubt,’ she said sharply. ‘You don’t fool me, Philip Trenchard. You have no regard for me, or any woman, for that matter. Any woman who does find herself unfortunate enough to become your wife will have to look for you in several other beds. I despise you.’
Philip was mortified. ‘You little bitch! I was doing you a favour offering you marriage. No gentleman is going to be interested in you except for the amount your uncle will settle on you. Everyone knows you’re no lady, you’re just the feeble daughter of a common fisherman. You’re not pretty, you have no figure, you are nothing. Who do you think will possibly love you?’
‘My grandfather was a titled gentleman and my uncle is one, so that makes me a much better person than you are! And as for who loves me, well, the Pengarrons are my family and they love me and I love them. They are all I need. So you see, Philip Trenchard, you offered me precisely nothing.’
Philip raised his hand as if to strike her. Cordelia flinched but remained still. He scowled and spat at her feet. ‘Make your own way back past the ruddy horse,’ he said and stormed out of the barn.
Knowing she had won the battle, Cordelia kept her head held high for several moments then sank down on the bale of hay and wept.
Kane found her staring into space with red-rimmed eyes. She threw herself into his arms.
‘What’s the matter, sweeting? What are you doing in here like this?’
Cordelia didn’t tell him about Philip; she did not want a scene. ‘I found myself inside the barn and then I was too scared to leave past the horse,’ she murmured.
Kane cuddled her for a moment then raised her to her feet. ‘Come on, I’ll take you straight home,’ he said. ‘You’ve had a bad fright and when I popped my head round the kitchen door just now I found half of the Trenchards were in a foul mood.’
Kane had been home for six weeks and he had not found it easy to settle down. He had changed. After the behaviour of his fellow officer abroad, he did not trust folk as readily as he once had. Where before he had taken for granted Luke’s superior attitude and demands to be the centre of attention, now he found them petty and distracting. Other people had changed too. Olivia had become sulky. Clem hardly spoke, as though he had some big problem on his mind. And Jessica was downright hostile.
Kane felt unsettled. He had not been able to make progress on choosing the right piece of land for his farm. And as he drove home with Cordelia, the other member of the Pengarron dynasty who some people felt didn’t quite belong in it, he knew why. There was something he had to do before he could find the peace to go forward with his life. It might bring discontent and cause great trouble, but it had to be risked.
Chapter 10
The next day Kane was in the east side of Marazion. He had business there and that business was in a brothel. The brothel was a large building which was gradually being turned into a high-class establishment. It was beginning to attract customers of better means than those of its usual clientele from a working-class background. The improvements had started in the spring with fresh paintwork on the outside doors and walls. When the front door was opened to Kane, however, the interior smelled of a sickly combination of sweat, stale alcohol and tobacco, and too much cheap perfume.
Kane waved a hand in front of his face as he stepped inside but there was a definite improvement when he was shown by a clean and smartly dressed maidservant into a darkened room she proudly called the parlour.
With an excited squeak she hurried from the room, ‘T’fetch Missus Nansmere at once fer ’ee, sur,’ taking the smell of harsh soap with her.
Mrs Nansmere arrived in a flurry of flimsy floating silks. ‘My dear sir,’ she said in a low, sultry voice, ‘please allow me to offer you my apologies.’ She tut-tutted and flung back the heavy green velvet curtains at the windows to let in the strong sunlight. ‘Mary should have drawn these for you.’
Kane saw that it was on this well-furnished room that most of the money earned in the establishment was being spent. It was styled on one of the rooms he had dined in of a powerful aristocratic Cornish family and he gathered that Mrs Nansmere had at one time been well connected.
‘We don’t usually get a gentleman calling on us this early,’ the madam said, whirling back to him in a provocative movement.
‘It is just after midday, Mrs Nansmere,’ Kane pointed out, employing his husky voice in an agreeable tone.
Mrs Nansmere had immediately recognised who her unexpected caller was. She hugged a filmy scarf round her wide shoulders and walked over to him with her voluptuous body swaying. She was a young woman, beautiful in a common way, her figure shapely. Kane wondered what she was doing in this establishment. She let the scarf fall to reveal an almost naked bosom.
‘We tend to keep late hours in this business, Captain Pengarron. I’m afraid none of my girls will be ready to receive you. But then a gentleman such as yourself deserves only the best.’ She floated closer. ‘It will be an honour to see to you myself.’
‘You are too kind,’ Kane drawled, and for the benefit of his expedition here he gazed down on her flesh.
‘You like?’
‘I like very much.’
‘Where would you prefer? Here or upstairs?’
‘Here will serve me well.’
‘And I shall serve you well. I reserve myself for only the cream of my clientele. My name is Frances,’ Mrs Nansmere said, reaching out with long-nailed fingers and leading Kane to a sofa.
Kane pulled off his frockcoat and allowed it to be placed over a chairback. He sat on the sofa and put his big hands protectively on his lap, but not wanting to give out the wrong signals he lifted his arms and spread them along the sofa’s back.
‘Frances – a lovely name,’ he said, turning on the charm.
‘Thank you, kind sir,’ Frances said with a curtsey that risked the little modesty she retained. ‘Can I get you some wine?’
‘A little too early in the day for me.’
‘Tea perhaps? I shall see to it myself, make it in front of your eyes in this room. You can be assured of clean china.’
Kane was pleased. He only wanted conversation with this woman and he could keep her talking while she made the tea. ‘I would find a dish of tea most welcome, Frances. Have you been here long?’ he asked, taking in the interior of the room, eyeing a replica painting of a certain gentleman’s spaniel dog. The gentleman had died recently and Frances must have been done out of a lucrative living.
‘Oh no, this is a come-down for me, Captain Pengarron. But I bought this place cheaply and inte
nd to make alterations and obtain more personable girls. The ones I have at present are all clean, I can assure anyone of that; they just need to adjust their level of drinking, and I have to say that occasionally it’s a gentleman who disgraces himself here.’
Kane frowned. He wanted to talk to someone who had worked here twenty-four years ago. Had Frances Nansmere got rid of all the ‘staff’ of that period?
‘Something is wrong?’ Frances purred.
‘No, not at all.’ Kane flashed a smile.
‘Why, I do declare, Captain Pengarron. When you smile like that you are even better looking than your father. I have seen him abroad, it is an honour for a woman to pass him on the street.’
Kane couldn’t help smiling for its own sake. He liked Frances Nansmere and her flowery language. He patted the sofa seat. ‘Come and sit. And please call me Kane.’
‘You do me an honour, sir… Kane.’
Frances sat close, placing a hand on his leg in a feathery movement. Kane took her hand in his and raised it to his face. It smelled fresh and delicately perfumed and he placed a light kiss on her pale skin.
‘I’ll get straight to the point, Frances. There is a particular reason why I have come here today.’
‘Oh dear, don’t tell me you have come here only to talk?’ She made a disappointed face and put her bosom on his arm and ran a fingertip along his chin. Kane met her sparkling eyes; they had nearly the same shade and depth as Jessica Trenchard’s. Frances ran her tongue along her lower lip and Kane blinked, telling himself to keep control.
‘I like being in your company, Frances,’ Kane said in answer.
‘Well, why don’t we get the talking out of the way first over that dish of tea?’
Kane was impressed by the china Frances produced from a locked cupboard.
‘A present from a titled gentleman. He provided for me very well. Unfortunately he died recently and I have had to move on. I could have provided excellent service for several gentlemen, I had plenty of offers, but I fancied being my own mistress for a change. Now, enough about me, my dear Kane. You want to talk and in your case I’m most interested to hear what you have to say.’
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