‘No, we’ve learned nothing at all about her, but we’re not that concerned really, we’re happy to have her here with us for ever. She’s settled down quite well but is still fearful of my father and brothers although she seems quite at ease with my Uncle Kenver. You haven’t been introduced to him yet, have you? He’s helping Kerris in the kitchen.’
‘I’d be fascinated to meet your uncle. I have seen some of his craftwork and was impressed with its quality and workmanship. In fact my brother bought a set of carved wooden animals for our nephew Thomas’s birthday gift.’
‘A lovely little boy, your nephew, Miss Catherine,’ Clem said, thinking it was about time he made a contribution to the conversation. Despite Jessica’s silly voice, he was pleased that things seemed to be going well.
‘To bring the conversation back to Kerris for a moment,’ Catherine said. ‘I have a theory about her.’
‘Oh? I’d be most interested to hear it,’ Clem said.
‘Well, it’s quite a chilling idea of mine actually. I haven’t even mentioned it to my brother in case he accused me of being fanciful. A few weeks ago a woman was brutally murdered in Penzance. Her maid disappeared and everyone expected her body to be found a few days later, as has happened before, but nothing like that so far has occurred.’
‘You think Kerris is, or rather was, that woman’s maid?’ Jessica interrupted, gasping.
‘It’s a possibility, don’t you think? She’s obviously been in service, and I’ve noticed that she stares at me which could be because of my clothes and bearing. The murdered woman was not one of virtue but she was of high breeding.’
Clem put his glass down and said thoughtfully, ‘If you are right, Miss Catherine, then that would explain the terrible state Kerris was in when Jessica found her. The murderer is almost certainly a man because of the… of the brute strength used in his horrible crimes and that could account for Kerris’s fear of men. She feels safe with Kenver because he’s stuck in a chair and seems no threat to her.’
‘Dear Lord,’ Jessica breathed, shuddering and no longer feeling like play-acting. ‘It’s horrible… poor Kerris. What you say suggests she saw the murder.’
‘At least she’s safe here with us,’ Clem said grimly.
‘I’m glad you don’t think me fanciful,’ Catherine said, repressing a shudder herself. ‘I shall make enquiries at Penzance to ascertain the maid’s name and age and what she looked like.’
‘No,’ Clem said firmly, ‘I would rather you did not. It could be dangerous. Let me see to it, please.’
‘Very well, if you think that would be best.’ Despite the horrific reason, Catherine was pleased; it gave them a mutual interest.
Kerris’s predicament was forgotten when David popped his head round the door to inform them the meal was ready to be served.
Clem carved the lamb, and Kerris, who stared at Catherine after dropping a perfect curtsey, was helped by Jessica to serve the vegetables. Instead of the usual wooden platters, the meal was served on Alice Trenchard’s china plates which had come from the Manor, given to her by Kerensa. Clem had usually objected to using Pengarron plates, but Alice had been proud to produce them on special occasions. They were not all of the same size and pattern but with flowers and good linen they made up a fine table.
Philip Trenchard was the happiest one of the family to have Catherine there. He’d been as surprised as the others that his moody, secretive father had insisted they all go to church and that he had invited someone back for lunch. He’d been shocked to hear it was Miss Catherine Lanyon, but the moment he’d realised what his father’s intentions were, he’d been delighted. If his father could pull off this marriage, Catherine Lanyon would bring a dowry with her, probably too small for a gentleman to be interested in but a sizeable one for simple farming folk. His plans for the farm, which had fallen flat on their face when Cordelia Drannock had spurned him, could be brought wonderfully to fruition. And he wouldn’t have to get married at all himself now; he could use women as much as he wanted and never be shackled to one of them.
‘The vegetables are from our own garden, Miss Catherine,’ he said gallantly, passing her the gravy.
‘They look succulent,’ Catherine replied, smiling shyly at the strapping young man from her position at the foot of the table where Clem had placed her. She felt ill at ease now. Her confidence had been slipping away since she’d left home and it was nerve-racking to sit round the table of a whole family and have no one with her herself. Philip kept her spirits up with bright conversation. She asked him about his wrestling and he vainly filled her in on all the details.
She used the time while the meal was being served to look around the room. There was an impressive oak dresser, its china display now on the table, and lots of cupboards nailed with haphazard butterfly hinges, including a little one for spice near the hearth. The flagstone floor was clean, the walls were uneven but looked sound, the settle and the rest of the furniture were gleamingly polished. Catherine decided she liked this large room; it was cosy and productive, and made a perfect woman’s domain.
Clem was seated at the head of the table. He was quite nervous himself, hoping that Catherine would not think it too common to eat round a kitchen table. He hoped none of his family would let themselves down with their table manners and that Jessica would not suddenly revert to kind and start giggling and fooling about with her brothers. Thankfully she had behaved well enough so far but he knew she wasn’t really pleased to have Catherine Lanyon here.
‘Kenver will be glad to show you some of his work later on,’ Clem said to her.
‘That’s right, Miss Catherine,’ Kenver nodded, eating from a tray across his special wheeled chair. ‘I will be honoured.’
Good man, Kenver, Clem thought. She could see his brother was not rough and common and she must be impressed by Rosie’s position, married to the Pengarron farm steward. Clem was a bit concerned about the parson’s quietness this morning. He hoped Timothy hadn’t changed his mind, but he hadn’t stopped Catherine coming here today.
Catherine felt calmer when the meat course, which she would have found delicious if she hadn’t felt so self-conscious and which she ate at a slower pace than the others, was cleared away. The redcurrant tart, custard and scalded cream were to her taste and she delighted Kerris, who had kept mainly out of the way on a three-legged stool, by accepting a second helping.
I must remember you have a sweet tooth, Clem thought.
‘Thank you for a most delicious meal,’ Catherine said sincerely as Clem helped her from her chair. She repeated it to Kerris who smiled for the first time since Jessica had found her.
Clem escorted Catherine back to the parlour, with the twins following and Kenver wheeling through after them, confident the dinner had been a success. Jessica brought in coffee and after a short period of small talk, Clem asked Catherine if she would care to go for a stroll and see around the farm. Catherine accepted gratefully; there were too many Trenchards packed about her in this little room.
The other menfolk looked forward to changing out of their best clothes and going about their usual Sunday afternoon activities. Jessica said that if Miss Catherine wouldn’t mind, after she had helped Kerris with the dishes she would go over to the Manor to see the Misses Olivia and Cordelia. Catherine said she did not mind at all and Clem was glad to get rid of his family so he could go about the serious business of courting.
Chapter 12
Catherine had seen over the yard before, on the day she had taken the initiative and ridden over to the farm. As Clem’s three dogs followed them quietly about, she saw that all the weeds and stinging nettles had been pulled up and there was nothing lying about. Even the animals, which she was more interested in, seemed to have been put in their rightful places and were content to stay there. The yard echoed a perfect restful Sunday afternoon.
She stopped to sniff the glorious warm aroma of fat rosy apples laid out and drying in the sun.
‘I’ll get you a bas
ketful to take home with you,’ Clem said.
He suggested they stroll further and he ran back inside to fetch one of Jessica’s sunhats. It was battered but afforded better protection from the sun than Catherine’s discreet hat.
They left the yard and Catherine exclaimed at the beauty of the clusters of white flowers on an elderberry tree. Clem remarked that she must take home a bottle of Ricketty Jim’s elderberry wine. They would pick some fresh flowers on their way back and after the walk Kerris would brew a delicious dish of honey-flavoured tea to refresh her. Clem offered his arm and soon they were strolling along by the tinkling river at the bottom of Trecath-en valley. Catherine pointed to the adjoining field and asked what was growing in it.
‘Wheat. ’Tis pale now but will soon mellow to bronze when ready for reaping,’ he explained. ‘We have oats in the next field. They’re in their first year of a four-year rotation. Next year we’ll plant rye, vetches and kale for winter feed, and the next it will be the turn of the turnips and we’ll hurdle the sheep over ’em to manure the ground for the following year’s barley. We have fields in each stage of the rotation.’
‘How interesting.’
‘You really think so?’
‘Yes, I do. It sounds most efficient and very hard work.’
‘Aye, it is, specially at harvest time which is coming up.’
‘But at least you have two strapping sons and the man, Ricketty Jim, to help you work the land.’
‘Aye, and I can afford to hire more hands,’ Clem said proudly.
Catherine watched a colourful butterfly flitting close to the bank of the fast-moving river. ‘It’s so peaceful here,’ she murmured.
Clem stopped at a spot on the river’s bank where some huge granite boulders formed a cosy place to sit. He thought Catherine would seat herself sedately on a boulder but she floated gracefully down to sit on the grass. One of the dogs promptly laid its head on her lap.
‘Gracie, come here,’ Clem called, patting his leg to bring the dog back.
‘No, don’t call her away. I like dogs.’
Gracie was half up, looking hopefully at Clem from large dark eyes. Clem nodded to her and the dog sank back into Catherine’s soft skirts.
Clem sat with his back against a boulder and the other two dogs lay either side of him. He thought he would be feeling so nervous at this point he would blurt out his marriage proposal, but Catherine made him feel relaxed. She was an agreeable woman, her liking for animals was genuine. She was kind and feminine and he could see why folk spoke highly of her. Even Kerensa had recommended her in the way she’d spoken of her that time in the Parsonage. Clem was comfortable in the company of the third woman he was to ask to marry him.
‘Are you comfortable, Miss Catherine?’
‘Yes, thank you.’
Clem had his eyes on Catherine’s face which was partly hidden by the hat’s brim as she stroked Gracie’s head.
‘What are your other dogs called, Mr Trenchard?’ she asked looking up, and when she saw that he was looking at her she smiled in her shy way.
Smiling back, Clem said, ‘This is Gawen,’ he stroked the dog at his right leg, ‘and the other one is Halwyn.’
‘You have given them good names.’ She glanced at each dog. ‘They suit them well.’
‘You might as well call me Clem now, if you’d like to… and may I call you Catherine?’
‘Yes, of course, please do,’ Catherine said happily. And she was happy. It was wonderful to be quite alone in the company of such an attractive man. She was sure many a lady of her station in life would be flattered to be in her position.
‘I think I will get a dog, Clem. Perhaps you could tell me where you acquired these beautiful creatures.’
This was a good moment to begin the proposal. ‘You, um, don’t have to acquire one for the Parsonage, Catherine. You could,’ and Clem grew steadily red, ‘share these dogs, if you like.’
Catherine’s heart began to dance. ‘What do you mean, Clem?’
Clem moved Halwyn aside and crouched before her. ‘You could share the dogs with me, on the farm. Share my family, share my life… I mean, please don’t be offended… you aren’t used to men of my worth asking you such a thing.’
‘You are asking me to marry you?’ and Catherine’s amber eyes shone with hope in her child-like face which was framed by a less severe hairstyle today.
‘Yes. ’Tis for Jessica’s sake. You’ve seen her, how unruly she can be, how unladylike she is. I’m worried about her. She needs a woman to show her the finer things in life, to groom her for an eventual good marriage.’
Catherine was elated and at the same time terribly disappointed. Since Clem’s invitation to dinner she had dreamed it was with the intention of asking her to be his wife. She hadn’t been sure what his reason would be and she knew it wouldn’t be because he loved her. But she wished he’d pretended, or at least had not come up with his real reason so soon.
‘You’re very quiet,’ Clem said, reaching for her hand. ‘Have I angered you, have I offended you?’
Catherine looked down at her small lace-gloved hand engulfed in his. ‘No, no, you’ve taken me by surprise and I…’
‘You want to think about it? Look, I know it’s a liberty but I’ve spoken to your brother. Of course I wouldn’t have asked you here today if I hadn’t done that first, and he said he will offer no objection as long as I come back to the Church, and I am happy to do that. I can assure you that you will always be treated like a lady, Catherine, and you wouldn’t have to do any heavy work. We have Kerris now, and Ricketty Jim to help out, and I can afford to employ more help if you want it. It’s a small farm but my sons and I work it hard and it’s yielding well and I have a little money put by from other sources. Any money that you have I want to remain entirely in your name for your own comforts. You’ll be free to come and go as you like and have folk call on you, not the Pengarrons, of course, but that would be because of me not you, but I’m sure they would still receive you at the Manor. Jessica needs you, Catherine. I hope you will at least consider…’
‘Your proposal,’ Catherine finished for him.
She could make him wait for his answer. She could play at being coy. She could insist on making the point that he was of lower birth than herself and it was a matter of great consideration. But was he a patient man? He didn’t seem the kind to appreciate games. He might ask another woman to become his daughter’s stepmother and she would deny herself what was probably her one chance of becoming his wife. She wondered if it had occurred to Clem that Jessica, with her lovely fair looks and sparkling spirit, was probably not far off from marriage herself. Would he feel stuck with her then? Catherine knew Clem could be sulky, that he liked his privacy and was inclined to wander off for hours alone with his dogs. Would he welcome her having visitors then? She was thirty-one years old, she had no dowry to speak of. Her only alternatives were spinsterhood or marriage to a dreary impoverished gentleman who would deem he had done her a favour.
She knew she had already made up her mind. She would risk it. This man was worth it. And although she had not known him for long, although he had once cruelly dismissed her in humiliation from the farm he was asking her to become mistress of, she had fallen in love with him.
‘Catherine…’ Clem prompted, gripping her hand tighter.
She lifted her face to look into his eyes, the same colour as the clear sky behind his head. ‘I don’t need to think about it, Clem. My answer is yes.’
Clem stared at her for an age. ‘Did you say yes?’
She nodded and he shook his head as if he didn’t quite believe his ears. What a good woman she was. She had offered none of the indignation or prattle he’d expected.
He peeled off one of her gloves and pressed his lips to her milk-white skin. It was soft and warm and fragrant.
Catherine’s eyelashes flickered and her heart raced. His touch was exquisite and she wanted him to take her into his strong arms.
Clem was abo
ut to retreat but suddenly couldn’t resist kissing her lips to seal the moment. It was only the briefest touch yet it made him realise how long he had been comfortless. He sat close beside her and kept hold of her hand. He worked his thumb up and down her palm and it did alarming things to Catherine’s most inner feelings.
‘We’ll tell the family when we get back,’ he said.
‘Do you think they’ll approve, Clem?’
‘Aye, and without any gripes. ’Tis always been said we need another woman about the farm. David is very easy-going, Philip looked besotted with you at the dinner table and Kenver thinks you are most charming. I’m sure Kerris will be glad to have you around, she’ll feel more secure with a lady telling her what to do, she’s quite incapable of making any decisions for herself. And Ricketty Jim won’t mind, he doesn’t mind anything.’
Catherine was heartened to hear all this but she frowned. ‘You haven’t mentioned the most important person to be involved – Jessica. How will she react to my becoming her stepmother? She might hate me for trying to take her mother’s place.’
‘Jessica’s wild but she has no hate in her. She might balk at first but when she realises she won’t have to bear all the responsibility of the house alone she’ll come round.’
‘Are you sure of that, Clem?’ Catherine asked, feeling niggles of panic. ‘If she resents me she won’t be shy in showing it.’ Inside she was thinking, she might get you to change your mind about me, make a promise to behave more ladylike so you don’t marry me.
‘You aren’t afraid of Jessica, are you?’
‘No… yes. I think I am a little…’
Clem gripped her hand firmly and raised it against the side of his cheek. ‘She might put up a protest but it’ll only be a token one. She’ll soon grow to like you, in fact I think she does like you.’
‘So you’ll tell her as soon as she comes home?’
‘Aye.’
‘I’ll probably have left the farm by then. Will you please tell me what she says or send word to me?’
Pengarron's Children Page 17