‘I’ll come over straightaway and we’ll talk to your brother then about the wedding arrangements.’
‘Clem, I don’t want a rushed wedding, that would be too unseemly.’
‘Well, I’ll be busy with the harvest for the next couple of months anyway. I suppose it wouldn’t be very good for you to try to settle in with your new family with the whole place busy and chaotic. Shall we say at the beginning of September then?’
‘Could we say at the end of October? I would like people to see me being… courted.’
Clem was feeling confident. He kissed her hand again. ‘As you please, my dear.’
Finding some boldness Catherine took off the sunhat and rested her head on his arm. She was mindful of the intangible hold that the Lady of the Manor had on Clem and wanted to lay claim to him. She glanced up at him to see what he thought of it. He settled himself more comfortably with a smile on his fair features, but she could not tell what his thoughts were behind them.
* * *
Jessica had not gone to the Manor house; she went to see Simon Peter Blake at his home.
Peter and Rosina Blake welcomed her enthusiastically, convinced she had had second thoughts about what she had told Rosina in Perranbarvah’s churchyard. She was ushered into a quiet little room and Simon Peter, who was upstairs packing, was sent for.
As she waited under Peter Blake’s encouraging smiles, she thought it ironic that if this gentleman wasn’t so hated by the gentry he would think her fit only to work in his kitchens or share his extra-marital bed and not as a bride for his son.
Simon Peter clattered down the stairs and rushed into the room. His parents withdrew, making a show of closing the door behind them. Jessica had refused to sit down and he went straight to where she stood, stiff-backed, and took her hands. His cornflower-blue eyes were bright with hope.
‘Does this mean…?’
‘No, Simon,’ she replied, pulling her hands away, and hating herself as his face fell. ‘I simply had to come to say goodbye to you. I couldn’t let you go away without saying sorry for being unkind to you.’
‘Oh.’ Simon Peter turned away.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Well, I can’t make you love me.’
‘Simon…’
He turned back. ‘Yes, Jessica?’
‘I don’t know what else to say.’ There were tears in his eyes and Jessica pressed her lips together and creased her features in a bid to stop her own. ‘I’ll miss you.’
‘I’ll miss you all of my life, Jessica. Can I kiss you goodbye?’
She nodded and he came forward. Putting his soft hands either side of her face, he kissed her lips. It felt gentle and warm and she responded in the same way. Then Simon Peter held her tightly and they cried.
When she left the grand house at Trevenner, she couldn’t face seeing Olivia and Cordelia. They would want to know all the details and it would make her weep. She didn’t want to go home with Miss Catherine Lanyon there and have to be on her best behaviour. So instead she went to Trelynne Cove.
All the way there, Jessica sobbed. She had known Simon Peter Blake all her life and had thought of him as a brother. Spurned by peers of his own class, he had been glad to make friends with her and the twins who saw no reason to hate him because of his father’s sins. Simon Peter had had only them, and Olivia and Cordelia who had become his friends too. Kane was cordial but Luke scorned him. Jessica concluded that although Simon Peter had wealth, he didn’t have much of a life and falling in love with her had only made it worse. She hoped he would find solace in his faith and the new life he was embarking on.
Jessica knew Trelynne Cove well from going there with Olivia and Cordelia. There was a little hidey-hole up in the rocks. Olivia had told her that her great-grandfather, Old Tom Trelynne, the rascally old man who had sold her mother and the cove to Sir Oliver, had used it to hide contraband in, and since Jessica had emerged as the leader of the girls’ adventurous plan, she had decided that was where they would hide their smuggled goods too.
Jessica couldn’t wait to do the first run and was getting exasperated with Zack Maynard. He kept saying he was taking his time in planning their first smuggling run, that he needed to be more careful when working with a group of women and was waiting for the right opportunity. Perhaps if she studied the cove and worked out the details in her mind, Zack Maynard would be impressed enough to arrange a date.
Jessica climbed up the rocks and stared at the triangular-shaped opening, which was closed over with a rock, and pictured herself and the other two girls and Jack passing contraband into it. The next day they would load the goods onto Olivia’s and Jack’s horses and quite openly take it to the wayside cottage halfway to Marazion where Jessica had arranged a buyer. No one would suspect the daughter and niece of the Lord of the Manor of free-trading. It would be easy and wonderfully exciting and Jessica intended to save the money she made to keep her independence.
Turning to gaze across the sea to picture a rowing boat mounting the waves and coming ashore with her contraband in it, she was stunned to see she wasn’t the only person in Trelynne Cove. On a tall outcrop of black granite on the shoreline sat a young man and she could tell by the long black hair and broad stiff-shouldered outline that it was Luke Pengarron.
She thought at first to leave but there was something dejected about Luke’s figure and she remembered the way he had looked at her on the night of Olivia’s birthday. She knew him as a cruel-tongued, arrogant womaniser but the look on his face that night had been purely complimentary, and seemingly innocent.
She climbed up beside him and he stared coolly at her.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Can I sit down?’
‘Typical peasant! Answer a question with another one. Where are your manners, girl?’
Jessica was stung into a fury. ‘I don’t know why I could ever think you could be anything but spiteful and conceited. Excuse me, Mr Luke Pengarron! I’ll take my low-class presence from yours this instant.’ She would have gone too but he was massaging his stiff right arm with a pained look on his face. ‘What’s the matter, does your arm hurt?’
‘It always hurts,’ he said through gritted teeth.
All anger forgotten, Jessica said sympathetically, ‘Shall I rub it for you? It might help.’
Luke looked at her suspiciously as the wind took her mane of curls and swept it towards the sea. ‘Are you mocking me?’
‘No. You shouldn’t be so bad-tempered when someone offers to help you. Do you insist I go?’
‘Do what you like,’ he said sullenly.
Jessica sat facing him. ‘I’d like to kick you, that’s what I’d like to do. ’Tis what you deserve.’ She raised herself and touched his shoulder light-handedly but he winced and sucked in his breath. ‘Sorry.’
Jessica could feel his muscles knotted tightly under his shirt. He watched her face as she worked, very slowly and gently, moving both hands all round his shoulder and up and down the top of his arm, then increasing the speed and pressure as his flesh began to relax.
‘Oh, that feels like heaven,’ he said after a few minutes. His eyes were closed and the expression on his dark face matched his words.
‘You should get Beatrice to give you one of her herbal liniments to rub in,’ Jessica said. ‘If you had it rubbed in like this every day it would help you a lot. Olivia told me you get a lot of pain. It’s probably one of the things what makes you so grumpy.’
His eyes snapped open. ‘Feel sorry for me, do you?’
‘No.’
‘I’m pleased to hear that. I don’t want your pity.’
‘You bring your troubles on yourself, Luke Pengarron.’ Jessica let her hands fall away.
‘Don’t stop,’ he said, looking deep into her eyes.
‘That will have to do,’ she said stubbornly.
Luke moved his arm back and forth and up and down. ‘It feels much better, less painful now. Thank you.’
‘Is that why
you came here?’ Jessica asked, swivelling round so she faced the sea as he did. ‘Because the pain was getting you down?’
‘Partly.’
‘But you don’t want to tell me any more.’
‘I get frustrated because I can’t do all the things other men do, because of this useless arm!’ he said passionately, thinking of the night he’d not been able to carry heavy contraband into this cove.
Jessica looked at his flushed, angry face. It was so like the proud profile of his handsome father. She said boldly, ‘From what I hear of it, you can do most things other men do.’
Luke swung round to meet her mischievous eyes. ‘That almost sounds like a compliment on certain abilities, Jessica Trenchard.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t know about that.’
‘You don’t have to remain in ignorance.’
‘I shouldn’t have started this,’ Jessica snapped.
‘You’re always ready with a sharp tongue where I am concerned. I wonder what you really think of me.’
‘You really want to know? I think you have all the bad points your father had years ago and none of his good ones.’
Luke laughed out loud. ‘I agree, that’s a very good description of me and you do me an honour with it.’ Leaning closer to her he went on, ‘What sort of bad points do you suppose my father had?’
‘He broke my father’s heart. Took your mother away from him over this place we’re sitting in.’
‘Your father deserved it.’ Then Luke said teasingly, ‘Wouldn’t it be strange if one of my mother’s children fell in love with one of your father’s?’
‘That will never happen,’ she retorted.
Luke’s face was so close, Jessica could feel his breath on her cheek. Her eyes, as blue as the summer sky, sank into his, as black as the granite they sat on. He was in no mood for further battle and brought his good left hand round and tugged on one of her curls. ‘Could I have one of your curls, Jessica ?’ he asked in a husky voice.
‘What?’
‘Just one. I’m thinking of having a special doll made for Cordelia’s collection. I’d like its hair to be the same colour as yours.’
Jessica looked doubtful.
‘Please. For Cordelia?’
‘Well, all right. But don’t leave my hair in a mess.’
He lifted a handful of hair at the back of her head and chose a curl where its absence would not be noticed. He asked her to hold it out while he cut it off with his pocket knife. Taking a handkerchief from his breeches pocket, he wrapped the curl in it reverently and put it away. He eyed Jessica and thought about the wager he had made with Sebastian Beswetherick.
‘Thank you, Jessica,’ he said pleasantly. ‘I suppose you have to hurry home to your work on the farm now.’
‘Not yet awhile, my father has company and I want to keep out of the way.’
Luke grinned to himself. ‘Good. You can entertain me for a little while longer.’
* * *
Someone else was out from home that Sunday afternoon. Kane Pengarron was calling again on Frances Nansmere.
‘You do me an honour, Captain Pengarron,’ Frances said cosily. She looked warm and flushed, having risen from an afternoon nap to receive her important caller.
‘Forgive me for intruding on your Sunday afternoon, Frances. I have given you several days to make enquiries for me and was wondering if you have any news yet. I was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to know, and here I am.’
‘You are welcome here at any time, my dear Kane,’ she said, leading him to the sofa in her parlour and pressing her body into his. ‘Perhaps when we have talked you would care to join me in my boudoir… free of charge.’
‘You are too kind.’ Kane moved away but it was futile. The madam had taken a fancy to him and he could see she would match his every move with a closer one of her own, so he capitulated to her caresses. ‘You have learned something for me?’ he asked eagerly.
‘I have indeed.’
He took hold of her hands and held them tightly despite her efforts to touch him. She used her chin in their place, nuzzling his arm. ‘My news, Frances?’
‘I could tell you later,’ she whispered in his ear.
‘Now, if you please,’ he said, getting impatient.
‘Oh, don’t be vexed with me.’ To his relief Frances moved away and looked serious. ‘Very well, your news first. From what I found out from the girls that work here now, I went myself to look up those who used to work here in your mother’s day. Of course some have moved away and are untraceable, some are dead and others are quite old. I have managed to track down four altogether. The trouble is that all of them were most reluctant to talk to me. A little money managed to loosen their tongues.’
‘I will reimburse you,’ Kane said.
‘Thank you,’ Frances said, returning a hand to his chest. ‘Anyway, I’m afraid it seems there is some sort of mystery surrounding your mother’s death.’
‘A mystery?’
‘Yes. As I mentioned, all four women didn’t want to talk about it. One muttered something like, “I don’t want to get into any trouble.” The most information I got was from an old woman called Meg, the only name I could get out of her. She said your poor mother took a fall down the stairs, broke her neck and died instantly. I’m sorry, Kane, sorry for the way your mother apparently died and sorry because that was all I could find out for you.’
Kane removed Frances’s hand from wandering in on his bare skin and leaned away from her in thought. ‘But when my mother, Lady Pengarron that is, rescued me from my father, the evil sailor, he told her she had died of the pox.’
‘Would you like me to ask more questions for you? You don’t want to cause any trouble about the past, do you? I’m sure I can find a way to wring out the truth from one of the women if I can assure them of that.’
‘I don’t want any of the past brought out into the open. As far as I’m concerned Sir Oliver and Lady Pengarron are my parents. I just want to know my true origins. I’ll go to see the old woman myself, you only have to give me her address.’
‘I hope that doesn’t mean our association will come to an abrupt end,’ Frances said, sounding disappointed. She made an assault on his body but he grasped her hands and pushed her away. Frances wasn’t disturbed. She stood up and viewed him with a critical eye. ‘You’re in love with someone, aren’t you?’
‘I am not!’ Kane denied hotly.
‘You are and it seems you don’t even realise it yet. I am an expert on these matters. What other reason is there for you to deny yourself the pleasures of my body, now and the last time you were here? You’re not too shy or too chaste.’
‘Just give me that address,’ he growled, displeased at being under her scrutinising eye and amused smiles. He made to go but then stopped and apologised. ‘I’m finding it harder to adjust to my new life than I thought, that’s all.’
‘Well, if you want to continue to fool yourself, that’s up to you. Now, let me tell you where you can find the old woman Meg.’
* * *
Rosina Blake had something on her mind which she could no longer keep silent about. After Jessica had left and Simon Peter had returned disconsolately to his packing, her husband had followed him upstairs and tried for a whole hour to talk him out of going away. Peter Blake came back downstairs and shook his head miserably.
‘He won’t change his mind, my beloved. He’s set on going. That Trenchard girl coming here has made him more stubborn than ever.’ He flopped down in an armchair by the parlour hearthside and put his head between his soft white hands.
Rosina went to him and cradled his head against her bosom. ‘Peter, I want to talk to you.’
‘About Simon Peter?’
‘No. Our son has made his decision. It’s something he has to do, and as hard as it is and no matter how much I long to have him close by me, I’ve accepted it. I want to talk about you, my love.’
‘You’re afraid I won’t be able to cope with Simon leaving
?’
‘You’ll find it very hard, I know, but we will face it together and hope he’ll come back to Cornwall one day. No, it’s something else,’ and her cheeks flushed to a deep redness even though he couldn’t see her face. ‘It’s about someone you know. Or rather someone you knew. Dinah Tredinnick.’
‘What?’ he breathed in shock, his head snapping backwards to look at her.
Rosina took a deep breath. ‘I want you to understand, dearest, that I know all about her. It’s dreadful what happened to her and I feel sorry for you. I can see what her death is doing to you. You won’t eat, you can’t sleep, you’ve lost weight and you’re beginning to go gaunt and pale. I’m worried about you, Peter. I want to see you happy again, laughing, enjoying yourself. You’ve had me believe it’s Simon Peter going away that’s made you so miserable but I know your other reason and I want to help you.’
Blake couldn’t bring himself to speak. He sobbed wretchedly in Rosina’s arms and she held him like a baby, smoothing his soft dark hair. At last he said in a muffled voice, ‘I’m sorry, so sorry…’
‘It’s all right, Peter, I do try to understand,’ she murmured soothingly.
‘That I’ve been unfaithful to you for many years? That I’ve kept another woman?’ he sobbed into her bosom.
‘I try not to think of your reasons, only that you had a need and Dinah Tredinnick filled it. I’m sorry about the way she met her horrific death, no one deserves to die that way. It’s eating away inside you and I want you to come to terms with it for your own sake.’
‘How can I do that?’ he appealed to her. ‘And what I’ve done to you too?’
‘But you cared for Dinah, didn’t you? Please say you did. I couldn’t bear it if you went with her without some semblance of love or finer feelings for her.’
‘Oh Rosina! This must be torturing you. How could I have believed I could be unfaithful all those years and you would never know? I’m sorry. But I did have a fondness for Dinah, and her maid who’s disappeared. What can I do to rid my mind of this wretchedness and make a fresh start with you?’
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