‘It wasn’t your fault, not any of it, Olivia,’ she said calmly. ‘You must never feel that way. The man was insane. I thank the Lord he’s dead and can harm no one else. If he hadn’t killed himself on your father’s sword, I’d be too afraid to sleep at night.’ She heard a horse trotting up the carriageway and glanced out of the window. ‘Well, well, the man you thought you were going to meet has just turned up.’
‘Do you think Papa will be angry with me for going to meet the Reverend Lanyon alone?’ Olivia asked, suddenly anxious that her hair should be restored to its former glory. If she saw Timothy today she didn’t want to look a mess. She jerked her chair round to face her dressing table mirrors, but she could not bring herself to look out on the man who’d just arrived. Timothy must know all about yesterday; what did he think of her going off to see a man alone, even though she’d thought it was him? If he despised her, she would want to die.
‘Well, your father is not pleased,’ Kerensa answered her, glad she was perking up. ‘You cannot expect him to be, Olivia. He knows why you went to Penzance but will not tell me how he knows.’
‘And you, Mama?’
Kerensa smiled softly at her daughter’s reflection in the mirror. ‘I’ve seen the way you look at one another. I understand your reasons.’
‘Will Timothy, I wonder,’ Olivia moaned wretchedly.
‘We’ll just have to wait and see. Your father will talk to him first.’
Timothy was shown into Sir Oliver’s study. He found the baronet sitting at his desk, fingers clasped, staring at the wall in front of him. It took Oliver a few moments to register Timothy’s presence there after Polly had announced him. He blinked and pointed to a chair.
‘I would have come at once, my lord,’ Timothy said in reverential tones. He was feeling very nervous. Catherine had told him that in the coach Olivia had kept muttering ‘I thought it was Timothy’, over and over again. Apparently Olivia had thought she was going to meet him. What in heaven’s name would Sir Oliver think was going on between him and his daughter?
Oliver did not speak, so to avoid an uncomfortable silence, Timothy went on quickly, ‘You see, Sir Oliver, it was only a short while ago that I obtained the full story from my sister. Yesterday she was too distressed to tell me everything that had happened. All I could get out of her then was that someone had been killed on Penzance streets. I thought the expedition with… um, Clem Trenchard and Jessica to Penzance was to purchase some items for her new home. I had no idea they had gone in the Blakes’ coach and with the woman Kerris. I regret my neglect of duty in that respect. I should have made enquiries about Kerris, Amy Venton, instead of leaving it to Catherine and… and Clem Trenchard. But how are you, Sir Oliver? And her ladyship, and Master Kane and, of course, Miss Olivia? I’d like to speak to her if I may.’
‘I am utterly and completely stunned, Timothy,’ Oliver said, his tone so constrained that Timothy was fearful as to what Olivia’s full ordeal had been. ‘I never guessed for one moment the murderer was Hezekiah Solomon. I thought of him as a friend, albeit a fop. But all the time he hated me. I should have known. I could have saved so many lives, so much suffering. Olivia wouldn’t have gone through her ordeal. I cannot bear to think what would have happened to her if Kane hadn’t turned up in Penzance.’
‘Nor I,’ Timothy said at once.
‘Kane was insulted by that… that vile little creature,’ Oliver said angrily. ‘And my dear wife, her ladyship, hearing and seeing it all, and – please keep this to yourself – she is with child.’
‘The poor dear lady. Is she quite well?’
‘Yes, thank God. She is confident she and the child have suffered no harm. Solomon, he wanted to… be with her ever since he saw her, on the day we were married. I read it in his repulsive diaries.’
Timothy let his breath out through pursed lips. ‘I can see I shall need to give spiritual comfort to you all. A brush with that much evil will lie heavily on the soul.’ He was fearful of the baronet’s reaction to what he was going to say next, but plunged on. ‘But what of Miss Olivia? It is she I am most concerned about. May I see her?’
‘I think not,’ Oliver said slowly, eyeing the young parson sternly. ‘She does not want to see anyone at the moment. She refuses to see Kane because he was involved in yesterday’s ordeal and will not see Luke and Cordelia because they were not. I thank God that at least some of my family did not suffer tarnishment at that man’s hands. Apparently Olivia was at Penzance yesterday in the belief she was seeing you, Timothy Lanyon. In one of Solomon’s diaries I found an account of how he obtained samples of your handwriting and wrote her a letter, asking her to meet you at a certain house, one he had in fact rented to do his murderous deeds in. That is how she came to be in his company.’
‘My sister told me she thought Miss Olivia had believed it was me she was meeting,’ Timothy said contritely. Then suddenly he didn’t care what the baronet had construed about him and Olivia. He blurted out, under Oliver’s heavy eyes, ‘I must see her, Sir Oliver! Please, may I see her, just for a little while? I promise I won’t distress her.’
Oliver kept his eyes on Timothy’s stricken face while he absentmindedly toyed with a paperknife. At last he replied, ‘Very well, I suppose a few moments won’t hurt.’
* * *
There was a little rap on the bedchamber door and Olivia, who was pacing the room, jumped and clutched at the bedpost. Oliver opened the door a crack and said softly, ‘I have the Reverend Lanyon with me. Is it all right if he comes in for a little while?’
Olivia gave a small cry. Kerensa looked alarmed but Olivia nodded her head emphatically. She had to know what Timothy thought of her.
The two men entered tentatively, Oliver first. He was stunned by his daughter’s reaction to the young parson. She stared at him through wide grey-green eyes, her hands gripping the bedpost as though it supported her very life.
‘I thought it was you, Timothy!’ she gasped. ‘I thought you had sent me the letter.’
‘Did you want it to be, Olivia?’ he asked earnestly, pushing past Oliver and going right up to her with outstretched arms.
‘Oh yes, yes!’
The next instant they were in each other’s arms, Olivia clinging to him, Timothy hugging her close, both oblivious of her parents.
‘It would be better if we left them alone,’ Kerensa said, taking Oliver’s arm.
‘I’ll be damned if I…’
But Kerensa was pushing him towards the door. ‘We will keep the door open to satisfy your sense of propriety, but leave them we will.’
Oliver insisted on having the last word. ‘Take the Reverend Lanyon up to your studio, Olivia. I will not have you staying with him in your bedchamber!’
Kerensa pulled him from the room.
‘Have you gone mad?’ Oliver asked her, the instant they were on the other side of the door. ‘I know you are deeply distressed by yesterday’s events but it seems you have lost your reasoning.’
‘I am completely in my right mind,’ Kerensa replied firmly, dragging him along the corridor and making for the stairs.
‘To leave our daughter in the arms of the parson. I hardly call that spiritual comfort!’ he protested.
‘That is another matter, Oliver. They are embracing because they are in love.’
‘Don’t be silly, Kerensa. They hardly know each other. Did you know this had been going on?’
Kerensa got them down the stairs and pulled Oliver into her sitting room. ‘It’s just like you to say that I am too interested in others to realise when I’m with child, Oliver, when you don’t even notice when our grown-up children are in love. And nothing’s been going on, as you put it. They haven’t long realised themselves how much they mean to each other. Now stop playing the outraged father and ring for some tea, it’ll do us good.’
‘I don’t want any tea,’ he said grumpily, pacing up and down the room under Kerensa’s amused eyes.
‘Is Kane in love?’ he demanded to know.
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‘I believe he is, yes,’ she said lightly. ‘You said once that you thought he was seeing a woman.’
‘Is Luke?’
‘No, I don’t think Luke is, but of course one never knows.’
Oliver snorted. ‘What about Cordelia?’
‘Yes, I rather think Cordelia is in love too.’
‘Who are they in love with?’
‘Perhaps it would be better if I keep that to myself for the time being.’
‘I don’t believe anyone except possibly Olivia is in love. Time will tell I’m right, you’ll see.’ He rang for Polly to fetch a tray of tea and something to tempt her mistress to eat, then sat down. ‘So, who are they in love with?’ he asked again.
‘Well, I know for certain that Olivia and Timothy are in love. It’s obvious from the way they’ve been looking at each other over the last few weeks. I believe Timothy has made no approaches because he thinks we would not approve of him as Olivia’s suitor. You don’t mind, do you, Oliver? We haven’t really discussed who we would want our children to marry. Of course, with my background, I’d probably see things differently to you.’
Oliver had relaxed a little and had been thinking. ‘Kerensa, my dear, when I think of who was interested in our daughter and what he very nearly did to her, if she is in love and happy with the Reverend Timothy, then I will be happy too.’
‘I was hoping you would say that. It looks like we’ll be having a double celebration in the family, a new baby to look forward to and a wedding – at least one wedding.’
‘We’ll make the parish of Perranbarvah dance for a week with the celebrations. Timothy will be kept busy preparing to marry Olivia, and incidentally if he doesn’t come down those stairs and ask for her hand I’ll break his neck for the liberty he’s taken. He’ll also have to perform the marriage of his stupid sister to that idiot farmer!’
Kerensa went red. She regretted not pushing Clem’s hands off her the day before and felt Oliver had a right to be angry. ‘I’m sorry about what Clem did yesterday.’
‘How dare that swine touch you! If he ever does it again I’ll horsewhip him.’
‘I know you’re angry, Oliver, and I understand that, specially with all the dreadful events of yesterday, but I wish you wouldn’t speak like that.’
He took her hands in his. ‘I’m sorry, my love. I just can’t bear that man coming near you.’
‘I know, but Clem was only concerned for me. Even Hezekiah said you have no need to be jealous of Clem.’
Oliver kissed her tenderly. ‘I know, I don’t think I’ll ever forget a word of what he said. But I can’t help feeling sorry for Catherine Lanyon. I know I shouldn’t have called her stupid, it was unkind of me, but she’s never going to be happy married to Clem Trenchard.’
‘But he fell in love with Alice eventually, don’t forget. Clem has always had a deep love for the women in his life. He asked Catherine to marry him because of his concern over Jessica whom he adores. I don’t think he’ll be unkind to her.’
‘I suppose I should understand that he’ll always love you. Who could not? But if she doesn’t see sense and refute him after he touched you in front of everyone yesterday, I think he might well find his own reasons to wriggle out of the marriage. It will be the best thing to happen to her. I wish I could advise her but it’s not my place.’
‘It’s not anyone’s place to interfere, except perhaps Timothy’s.’ A gleam came into Oliver’s dark eyes and Kerensa pulled his face round sharply to look at her. ‘Oh, Oliver, you wouldn’t?’
‘I’d like to but I won’t. Timothy will have enough on his hands becoming our son-in-law. I suppose he’ll need to have Miss Catherine out of the way at the Parsonage when he takes his bride there. I’ll have to spend some money on that Parsonage, make it fit for Olivia to live in.’
Polly appeared with the tea and when she had gone they spent a happier time making plans for the future. A slow shuffling and grunting was heard making for the room. The couple smiled knowingly at each other and Beatrice came in, clutching a wide pewter mug under her huge drooping bosom.
‘Smelt un bein’ made,’ she rasped, nodding at the teapot. ‘Do ’ee mind if I join ’ee in a sup?’
‘Of course we don’t, Bea,’ Oliver said, leading the old crone on her shaky legs to a chair by the fire.
Kerensa took the mug and filled it to the brim with strong black tea and plenty of milk. ‘Here you are, Beatrice, just as you like it,’ making sure Beatrice had a firm grip of her mug before she let it go.
‘Don’t go away, young missus, I want to ’ave a good look at ’ee.’
Kerensa complied by standing in front of the old woman like a little girl awaiting inspection before being allowed in the presence of genteel parents. ‘You looked me over yesterday, Beatrice, several times. I’m a bit shaken but apart from that perfectly all right.’
‘Mebbe, mebbe not, there’s somethin’ I’m goin’ to tell ’ee, though ’ow come thee never knaws yerself—’ Beatrice stopped as Oliver laughed loudly. ‘What’s the matter with ’ee then? Laughin’ at an ol’ woman! What’ve I said to start un off screechin’ like a banshee? What’re ’ee both gawpin’ at me fer!’
‘She knows, Beatrice. I told her myself this time.’
‘Could’ve told me then! Some strange little baby this one’s goin’ to be.’
‘Oh, don’t say that, Beatrice. I’ve got enough trouble with the children I have now,’ Kerensa said, laughing happily, the ordeal of the day before temporarily forgotten.
* * *
Olivia led Timothy up to her studio, her arm tucked comfortingly inside his. She had cried a lot since the harrowing incident of the day before and the brighter light made her blink rapidly and she rubbed at her eyes.
‘You aren’t going to cry, are you, Olivia?’ he said, full of concern.
‘No. Not now you’re here, Timothy.’
‘But if you want to cry, I have two good shoulders you can do it on.’
‘I’d like it if you held me again,’ she said, able to smile at last.
They embraced again, she revelling in his warm strength, he in being her comforter.
‘I feel really honoured that you would have agreed to meet me secretly, Olivia,’ he said, caressing the red hair falling over her slender shoulders.
‘I’ve been so afraid that you would feel badly about me when you found out. I know now you wouldn’t have suggested anything of the kind, but I was just so full of hope…’
‘I could never feel badly about you, Olivia,’ he said, his words caressing her hair. ‘And I’ve been full of hope that you might care for me. You do, don’t you?’
She took her arms away from his neck and led him across the room to her painting easel. ‘Perhaps this can speak for the way I feel about you.’
On the easel was a picture of the head and shoulders, in profile, of the two of them, facing each other. It was almost finished and portrayed their features with love and tenderness, gazing into each other’s eyes.
‘Oh, Olivia!’ he breathed. ‘If you want, my beloved, we could always be like that.’
‘I would like that, Timothy. With all my heart,’ she answered, her face full of joy.
Timothy clutched her hands and there was a pained look on his face, making his grey eyes wide and bright. ‘But what about Sir Oliver? He wouldn’t allow you to marry a humble parson. I’ve got very little money, and not much expectation of climbing high in the Church.’
Olivia stroked his cheek and ran her fingertip along his chin to the small cleft that was so much a part of his charm. She wasn’t concerned at all. ‘I think that when Papa has had time to think about it he will be only too glad to see me happily married to someone I love, especially after what so very nearly happened to me. Besides, Mama knows how we feel about each other. Remember the way she pulled him out of my bedchamber. If Papa has any objections she’ll soon talk him round. She always gets her own way, Papa is really quite soft in her hands.’
T
imothy grinned blissfully. ‘And I suppose that’s how you want me to be, Miss Olivia Pengarron. Soft in your hands.’
She twisted her face to tease him as he took her back in his arms. ‘Some of the time.’
‘Olivia, you will marry me, won’t you? If your father agrees.’
‘He will, and yes, Timothy,’ she said, raising her face to be kissed, ‘I will.’
* * *
Kane was about to ride over to Trecath-en Farm but Oliver hailed him from across the stable yard. ‘I would like a word with you before you go, son,’ he said.
Kane dismounted and gave the reins back to Jack. ‘Sounds serious,’ he said curiously.
‘I’m about to check on the animal hut. Walk with me there.’
In the hut a small assortment of birds and animals were recovering from injury or illness. Some were well again but too tame to be freed back into the wild and had become pets of the family for their own safety. Kane picked up a dark brown rabbit which had only three paws, having lost one in a gin-trap. He looked at the rabbit critically as it scrambled up his front and snuggled into him like a human baby, as Meg’s rabbit had done only two days before.
‘Russet is getting fat because she can’t run about. We’ll have to cut down on her food ration,’ he said.
Oliver stroked the rabbit’s soft back and nodded in agreement. Then he turned to his favourite creature in the hut. In a wide cage was a stoat he’d named Samson. He had found it in the middle of a field almost dead. Rummaging around, he had discovered its concealed nest at the edge of the field and saw it was the only survivor of a litter of nine. Oliver had not expected the tiny stoat to live but many hours of hand-feeding had paid off and Samson had grown, though he was still undersized. He had an endearingly ugly, bluntly pointed face, and seemed reluctant to be set free.
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