Pengarron's Children

by Pengarron's Children (retail) (epub)

  Clem abruptly let Kerris go.

  ‘I’ll have you know,’ Kenver said coldly, as she ran to him, ‘that Kerris turns to me for help because I take the trouble to be gentle and patient with her, not because she has anything to hide. We’ve grown very close over the weeks she’s been here; in fact we love one another and we want to get married. Kerris is as keen as you evidently are to find out who she is, to know if the way is clear for us.’

  Clem had apologised, ashamed to have frightened Kerris. He felt sorry for her now as he watched her hovering fearfully close to Jessica. He was certain she was Dinah Tredinnick’s lost maid and if Peter Blake, who was waiting outside to see her, jogged her memory back to its fullness, it was likely to be a distressing experience for her.

  ‘Will you go and fetch Kenver, please, Jessica,’ Clem said. ‘There’s someone waiting outside who thinks he knows Kerris, and Kenver ought to be here.’

  When Kenver had wheeled himself through and Kerris was standing between his chair and Jessica for support, clutching their hands, Clem called Peter Blake inside.

  Blake entered the doorway and his face exclaimed instant recognition. ‘Amy!’ he gasped softly. ‘Amy, it’s me, Mr Blake. Thank God you’re safe.’ And his eyes brimmed over with tears.

  Kerris stared at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, tightening her grip on Jessica and Kenver’s hands. She blinked rapidly and her mouth was working but no words came out.

  ‘Do you remember Mr Blake, Amy?’ Kenver said gently, using her real name to help her memory.

  ‘Mr Blake says he knows you, Amy,’ Clem said softly, from the other side of the kitchen. ‘He thinks you used to live in a house in Penzance that he used to visit regularly.’

  Kerris’s eyes bulged. Her hands went limp and she pulled them away from the others.

  Blake took a step towards her and stretched out a hand. ‘It’s so good to see you, Amy.’

  ‘Is that you, Mr Blake?’ she asked in a faint voice.

  ‘Yes, it’s me, Amy. I’ve been looking for you for months and there seemed to be no trace of you, and you were here all the time.’

  Kerris became confused. ‘Wh… what am I doing here?’

  ‘You worked for Miss Dinah Tredinnick in Chapel Street at Penzance, do you remember, my dear? I used to call there.’ Blake produced something from his waistcoat pocket, a small, round, enamelled brooch with a floral picture on it and held it out in his hand, moving closer to Kerris. ‘I gave you this for your twenty-fourth birthday. That was back in February of this year. You left it behind… when you ran away.’

  Kerris moved forward, as if in slow motion, and took the brooch from his hand. She held it closely to her eyes and a glimmer of a smile passed her lips.

  Blake took one of her hands and supported her above the elbow. He shot Clem a worried look. ‘You ran away from Miss Tredinnick’s house, Amy. Why was that? What happened there?’

  Kerris was twisting the brooch round and round and staring at it from all angles. ‘You gave one something like this to Miss Dinah, sir. It had red and white roses on it and she wore it often. It was one of her favourite pieces because she couldn’t wear much jewellery. She had it on the night… the night…’

  ‘The night?’ Blake prompted gently.

  ‘The night he came…’

  Jessica put her hand on Kenver’s shoulder and he reached up and held it. Clem swallowed hard. Blake steeled himself to ask, ‘Who was it, Amy? Who came to Miss Tredinnick’s house?’

  The woman whom the Trenchards knew as Kerris went rigid and her eyes glazed over. Kenver was behind her and strained to see her face. Jessica stepped back so he could wheel his chair closer to her.

  ‘He came when it was dark…’ Kerris began to shake and Blake put his arms about her. ‘Miss Dinah let him in, she said for me to stay in my room and not to come out. She said she had something to see to and it needn’t concern me.’

  Kerris said nothing for several moments and Blake, whose presence was the only one she seemed to realise was there now, prompted, ‘What did she have to see to, Amy?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ and her voice became panicky. ‘She didn’t look happy about it, whatever it was. I… I think she was frightened, sir. Oh sir!’

  ‘It’s all right, Amy. You’re perfectly safe here with me and the Trenchards. Try to remember everything and then it will be all over.’

  In her mind Kerris was utterly alone, in another house, another time. ‘There was a scream, it was a terrible noise! A strange noise like an animal would make. It was the mistress and she made no other noises, not loud ones anyway. I knew he was hurting her and I was too scared to help her. I was so scared I sank down to the floor and stayed behind the door. There was strange noises coming from the sitting room… like an animal grunting and snuffling. It was him! It was him, oh God help me! I crawled across the room and hid in an alcove behind the curtains. I was so scared I couldn’t shout for help. I should have shouted for help and saved the mistress! …After what seemed like ages, it went quiet. My bedroom door was opened and he looked in but he must have thought the mistress had sent me out because he went away. I stayed there nearly all night, in the dark, until the sky began to get lighter… Then I went to the mistress. I waited for her to call me but she didn’t… then I went to her.’ Kerris’s body shook violently. ‘She was all cut and slashed! She only screamed once because he had gagged her!’ Kerris swayed on her feet and then collapsed in a faint across Kenver’s lap.

  Jessica, who’d had her hands to her face in horror, rushed to get some brandy from the parlour. Clem followed her and with shaking hands they set out glasses together, tactfully leaving Kenver and Blake to look after Kerris for a few moments. Clem held Jessica to stop her trembling.

  ‘That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard,’ she said, shuddering. ‘Aye, the poor soul. No wonder her mind shut itself off. It had to come out one day though, my love. But she’s got Kenver to help her to get over it now.’

  ‘You know how they feel about each other then?’

  Clem nodded. ‘Kenver told me earlier today.’

  A splash of cold water over her face and a few drops of brandy on her lips and Kerris began to come round. She groaned, her head lolling heavily on Kenver’s chest. Jessica knelt and forced her to drink some water. When she was fully conscious Kenver lifted her chin and looked worriedly into her eyes. He blinked away tears of relief to see there was no glazing over her eyes; they were clear and grey, and looking steadily at him.

  ‘It’s all over, my love,’ he said tenderly.

  She stroked his face and whispered, ‘I know who I am, Ken. And I know now that I’m not married.’

  He kissed her gently and they clung to each other.

  Peter Blake was staring at them, almost as shocked by this as by the details of Dinah Tredinnick’s death. Clem handed him a glass of brandy and he bolted it down. ‘They mean something to each other?’ He motioned to them with his glass.

  ‘Aye,’ Clem replied. ‘Looks like she’ll be changing her last name as well as her first.’

  ‘I was going to offer her a place at my house at Trevenner but I see that won’t be necessary.’ Clem was looking at him curiously and he added, ‘My wife is very understanding… and of course Amy – Kerris – will be better off with you than with me until this maniac is caught.’

  ‘We had better not make any more enquiries,’ Clem said, moving Blake away so Kerris could not hear their conversation. ‘There is the risk that we could put the murderer on to us.’

  ‘It’s been a terrible burden,’ Blake agreed. ‘While I was making enquiries about Amy I had to keep that in mind. I’d offered a generous sum of money to loosen tongues but I was always afraid I’d end up talking to the murderer himself. Whoever he is he’s a very intelligent man. I believe he made sure no one saw him going to Miss Tredinnick’s house. He must have approached her before, she seemed to have been expecting him. It was a mercy that she kept Amy out of the way, it saved her life. But we st
ill have no clue who he was.’

  ‘Mr Blake…’

  Blake turned to see Kerris now sitting on the settle with Jessica’s arms round her and Kenver holding her hands. She was still shivering and he could see it would take time for her to get over the full shock of her mistress’s death and regaining her memory. ‘You’re feeling better, my dear?’ he asked kindly.

  ‘I just want to say it’s good to see you again, and thank you for coming,’ she replied shyly.

  ‘I’m glad that you’ll be in good company,’ he said with a smile which included Kenver. ‘There is one other thing,’ he ventured.

  ‘Oh?’ Kerris said nervously.

  ‘I’m shutting up Miss Tredinnick’s house tomorrow. Would you like to come with me to collect your things? I know it’s a lot to ask, but if you can bear to go into the house again, something might jog your memory into remembering something about this man. Until he’s caught he’s a threat to everyone. It might also help you to recover more quickly if you face the situation again…’

  Kerris looked uncertainly at Kenver and Jessica.

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Jessica offered.

  ‘If only Kenver could come,’ Kerris said with a small wail.

  ‘I’ll send my carriage over,’ Blake said at once. ‘Perhaps Clem will come as well. You’ll be perfectly safe with all of us, my dear.’

  It was agreed, and as it was family business Clem suggested he send a message over to Catherine to ask her if she would like to come too. He thought the younger women might be glad of her calm presence. And Blake, who felt he owed it to his wife not to exclude her from the final chapter of the tale of his unfortunate mistress, said Rosina would probably wish to go also.

  Chapter 19

  While Clem had been in Penzance seeking information, Kane was riding to the home of the prostitute called Meg on the same errand. He found her house quite easily, according to Frances Nansmere’s instructions. It was little more than a hovel on the outskirts of the town near the swamps and looked less comfortable than Ricketty Jim’s shack. It was one of a few similar buildings, thrown up out of any available material that could be found, housing the outcasts and the poorest of the locality. Meg’s stood out because it was the only one with a pointed roof, making it look like a giant chicken coop.

  A woman was sitting outside on the doorstep, dressed in ragged clothes and smoking lazily on a dirty clay pipe with a broken stem. She was stroking a pure white cat curled up in the well of the faded purple skirt that hung between her parted legs. She watched Kane through hostile, searching eyes as he rode up, dismounted and walked purposefully towards her.

  Before he could speak she snarled at him, ‘So thee’ve come at last, ’ave ’ee? I don’t want no trouble. Known too much of it in my lifetime!’ She spat on a pile of sticks beside the door.

  Kane surveyed her calmly. He could see why Frances had called her old but he put her at perhaps no more than forty-five. Her appearance made it impossible for her to work in a brothel now; no man would want this woman, even free of charge. Her skin was as wrinkled as a pickled walnut, her hair grey and frizzy. She had had a full bosom once but now her breasts sagged. She met his steady gaze with more hostility but Kane could see she was also frightened.

  ‘Are you Meg?’ he asked in a quiet voice.

  ‘What if I am?’

  ‘Do you know who I am?’

  ‘Course I do! Everybody round these ’ere parts knows who you are! A tall good-looking man with reddish hair and a soldier’s bearing and the assured manner of a man brought up amongst the gentry. Cap’n Kane Pengarron, the took-in son of the mighty Sir Oliver Pengarron and his beautiful working-class wife.’

  Kane ignored the contempt in her scratchy voice. ‘Has a woman called Frances Nansmere come here to see you in recent weeks?’

  ‘A woman? Another prostitute you mean! She’s no better’n me. Just because she’s dressed up in they fine clo’es, got money to spend on powder and paint and owns the place I used to work in, she’s no better’n me, the bitch!’

  ‘I have not come to cause you any trouble, Meg. If you don’t want to be seen talking to me I’ll lead my horse to somewhere more discreet and we could go inside your house.’

  Meg sniggered. ‘P’raps you shouldn’t be seen talkin’ to me, Cap’n Pengarron. Folk might think you’ve come fer services rendered! I ’ave t’make a livin’ some’ow and there’s always someone desprit enough.’ She cackled horribly, and Kane tried not to grimace when she lifted her breasts, pushed her tongue out of her thin, cracked lips and said, ‘You sure I can’t int’rest thee in my beautiful body! I might be past my best in looks but I ’aven’t lost my touch. I still know how to satisfy a gentleman and you look like you can afford to pay me a pretty penny or two.’

  ‘I will pay you well for some information,’ Kane said, pulling a fat leather pouch from his coat pocket. ‘If I consider it to be honest and truthful, I’ll give you enough to find somewhere better to live, to buy a pretty new dress and something to put the colour back into your cheeks. Make up your mind quickly, Meg. You know what I want, and there are three other women I can ask. I’m sure I can loosen one of their tongues. Be thankful you have been given the first opportunity.’

  Meg’s eyes darted from side to side, following the movement of the pouch as he swung it from the tips of his fingers. ‘Do ’ee promise thee won’t cause any trouble, no matter what I tell ’ee?’

  ‘You have my word as a Pengarron, a name I’m proud to bear.’

  Meg pointed at the money pouch with her pipe. ‘All right. Your father’s word’s always bin known as steadfast and true so I’ll tell you what you want to know, young sir. Money first.’

  She made a snatch at the pouch but Kane whipped it out of her reach. ‘How much you receive depends on what and how much you tell me.’ She scowled and spat again. ‘I can be very generous,’ he added coaxingly.

  She glanced around. There were a few people about and they had stopped to look at them. A cart was travelling along the pitted track that ran several yards away from Meg’s hovel and the occupants stared at them curiously. She glared at them all, shouting at them, ‘Bugger off!’ The people complied, some shouting back abuse in more profane language.

  Meg tossed her frizzled head. ‘Let’s git inside. ’Tes nothin’ grand like you’m used to, sir. You’ll just ’ave to put up with the smells.’

  The smells in question came from a variety of animals – two dogs, a pig, a goat, numerous cats, fowls, rabbits and a hare. Kane had a rapport with animals and found he could just about tolerate the mixed odours of these.

  ‘They’m my family,’ Meg explained affectionately, patting the heads of both dogs. ‘All I’ve got in the world. Gotta be careful somebody don’t steal ’em, that’s why they’m in here. Folk are always hungry or mean enough.’

  ‘You have a lovely family, Meg,’ Kane said sincerely. The animals and fowls were well cared for and their smells came from being shut up in the stuffy room where there was only one small opening to serve as a window. He picked up one of the rabbits, a young grey creature with very long ears. He stroked it as he sat down on an old ale crate, part of the hovel’s sparse furniture. Within moments, two of the cats had slunk up to him; one crept up his chest beside the rabbit while the other sat on his shoulder and rubbed its black furry cheek against his ear, purring in ecstasy.

  Meg sat on a lump of wood by the place where she burned a fire. A cat jumped up onto her lap and mewed, its eyes on Kane.

  ‘This one likes you too,’ Meg said, breaking into a reluctant smile that took a few years off her premature ageing.

  ‘I’ve always liked animals,’ Kane said.

  ‘So I see. I’ve ’eard about your family over the years. You all like creatures, don’t ’ee?’

  ‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘My younger sister has a dog called Rex, a very boisterous black retriever,’ he said conversationally. ‘I had a dog myself when I was younger. He died from old age last year. I was upset t
o be away from home at the time.’

  ‘And now you’re back,’ Meg said, looking him straight in the eye. ‘And for some reason wanting to know about yer past. I think the past should be left in the past. With the fine home and parents that you’ve got, don’t ’ee think you should be grateful fer that and leave things lie?’

  Kane stroked the rabbit and the cat on his chest simultaneously. ‘I shall always be grateful to my parents but I want to know something of my past before I settle down and make a future for myself.’

  ‘I’ve feared fer years that Sir Oliver would come an’ ask questions about you. Mayhap ’e don’t want to know anythin’.’

  ‘Perhaps Sir Oliver thought the decision should be left to me whether to ask about my past or not.’ Kane smiled.

  Meg nodded to that. ‘You’m wearin’ black. Laid someone to rest, ’ave ’ee?’ she asked, softening the scratch in her voice.

  ‘I’ve been to a double funeral, of a grandfather and his grandson aged twenty-two years. It makes you realise that we’re all mortal, that we can die at any time. It impressed upon me the need to get on and find out what I can about my origins, no matter how distasteful or distressing they are.’

  Meg relit her dirty pipe and blew smoke in the doorway’s direction. ‘What do you know already?’

  ‘My parents have told me that my real mother worked in the brothel that Frances Nansmere now owns and my father, who seems to have hated her, was a sailor. My mother died, of the pox according to the sailor. The other women in the brothel refused to look after me any longer so the sailor decided to sell me in the marketplace. That’s when my adoptive mother, Lady Pengarron, saw us and bought me from him – in exchange for a guinea and her pony’s saddle. She took me home to the Manor house and Sir Oliver agreed to bring me up as their own.’

  ‘Ais, ’tes what everyone’s thinks to be true.’

  ‘And is it not?’ Kane leaned forward, disturbing the animals and the black cat jumped down.

  ‘No, yer mother was no ’arlot an’ yer father was no sailor, you’ll be pleased to ’ear.’