Pengarron's Children

by Pengarron's Children (retail) (epub)

  ‘I’ve come to tell you I don’t need a stepmother for Jessica,’ he said quietly.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘You don’t know what I want to say.’

  ‘But I do. Timothy’s spoken to me. Please go, Clem,’ she pleaded, her eyes brimming. ‘This is very painful for me.’

  ‘I don’t think you understand, Catherine. Folk will call me a louse if I call off the wedding.’

  ‘They’ll understand. Everybody knows you were only marrying me for your daughter’s sake… and that now you don’t need me. Timothy told me what happened at the Manor.’

  ‘It changes everything, Catherine.’

  ‘I know,’ she murmured, and silent tears fell down her cheeks. ‘I understand.’

  ‘You’ll think me a selfish man, but putting Jessica aside, I’ve realised that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone.’

  ‘Well, you can marry another… a farmer’s daughter or widow perhaps, someone more suitable.’

  ‘But I’ve grown to like and trust you, Catherine. Alice wasn’t a farmer’s daughter and we were happy at the end.’

  Catherine turned round slowly. She left her tears unchecked. Clem moved a step closer.

  ‘What are you saying?’ she whispered. And hope was surging through her soul.

  ‘I’ll be honest with you, Catherine. I want you not as a substitute mother on the farm but as my wife, for me alone. Will you take a chance and see how marriage works out between us? Will you give me the chance to love you, honour you, all the things we’ll say in the vows in two days’ time?’

  She cried openly and he took her into his arms. She was soft and yielding to him now and he caressed her and kissed the top of her head.

  ‘Does this mean yes?’ he asked gently.

  She took her face away from his body. ‘Oh, yes, Clem, yes. I love you so very much.’

  ‘Do you?’ He was surprised; he had not realised that before. Overjoyed, he smiled deeply into her eyes. ‘Well, I’ve loved all the women in my life.’ Then he pulled her to him and kissed her as a lover should.

  Chapter 28

  As she was Timothy’s fiancée, Oliver relented and allowed Olivia to attend the Trenchard wedding. When she came face to face with Jessica afterwards in the Parsonage they both felt awkward.

  ‘Catherine looks beautiful, and your father seems to be very happy,’ Olivia commented.

  ‘He is,’ Jessica said, looking at Clem who was proudly holding Catherine’s arm on his and conversing with her sister, the mother of young Thomas. ‘He’s quite at home with Catherine’s family.’

  There was an uneasy pause then Olivia said earnestly, ‘I’m sorry about what happened to you on the night of the smuggling run, Jessie. It was all my fault, I shouldn’t have insisted on going ahead with it. My father doesn’t blame you any more than he does me and Cordelia.’

  Jessica sipped from a glass of wine and nibbled at the food. Her face was serious. ‘I’m just glad it’s all over. Has it occurred to you, Livvy, that Zack Maynard might have gone ahead with his plans to kidnap us even if we hadn’t gone to Trelynne Cove that night?’

  Olivia shivered. ‘No it hasn’t. I won’t be doing anything of the kind again. I don’t want to put Timothy through any more worry.’ She gazed lovingly at the young parson who was entertaining Philip and David, then added, in an embarrassed voice, ‘I’m sorry about what happened afterwards too. I didn’t believe what your father thought about you, nor did Cordelia.’

  ‘It will soon be your wedding day,’ Jessica said, smiling and taking her friend’s arm. ‘Let’s forget the past and look forward to the future. Are you coming over to the farm for Uncle Ken and Kerris’s wedding later? You’re very welcome.’

  Olivia glanced doubtfully at Clem but received a friendly smile back. ‘I’d be delighted to.’

  ‘You must send for Cordelia. It will be good to get back to normal again, the three of us doing everything together – at least until your marriage.’

  Olivia looked carefully at her friend. ‘Shall I ask if anyone else would like to come?’

  Jessica turned away and made a pretence at pouring herself more wine. She knew who Olivia had meant. The last person on earth she wanted to see was Kane. She and her father had managed to get back onto good terms – Catherine had been a great help, explaining that he had only reacted in the way he did out of fatherly love and worry, and because he’d never been sure of what was the right thing to do about her – but her hurt over Kane went too deep. ‘Just Cordelia,’ she said quietly.

  * * *

  Three weeks had gone past since his family’s weddings and Philip Trenchard was in Marazion facing the Barvah Giant in the wrestling ring. Philip had never felt more confident of winning. He had a rich stepmother, by his standards, and she was already spending money on her new family. Despite their objections, Catherine had showered Jessica and Kerris, now the supremely happy Mrs Kenver Trenchard, with new clothes. She had bought Philip and David and Jessica a fine horse each. Kenver had received tools for his workshop. Ricketty Jim had blushingly accepted a new hat, a shirt to keep for best, and a pipe. She hadn’t bought clothes for Clem. That would have embarrassed him. She had presented him with equipment for the farm and Clem had surprised his family by thanking her and kissing her tenderly in full view of them each time. And Philip had other plans, bigger plans for what else Catherine could spend her money on.

  Part of his plan meant asking Catherine to merge her money with his own. He had managed to save £100 over the years, by betting, smuggling and the amorous services he gave to wealthy ladies. Today he had bet that sum of money on a ten-to-one wager with a gentleman. If he won, he’d receive the princely sum of £1,100. If he lost, he would probably be able to turn to Catherine to bail him out. Philip looked at Matthew King and raised his head in a cocky movement. ‘But today, my friend, you lose,’ he whispered.

  Kane Pengarron was one of those gathered round the straw-covered ring in the biting-cold weather. He was standing next to Paul King and the rest of the fisherman’s family. He was not there to see the wrestling; he was hoping to see Jessica. Clem, David and Matthias Renfree were standing in a group with Jack and Nathan O’Flynn, but for once Jessica hadn’t come to watch her brother. Kane was disheartened but decided to stay in case she turned up later. Someone pushed in beside him and for one heart-stopping moment he thought it was her, but he looked down on the quiet face of Simon Peter Blake.

  ‘Good morning, Pengarron,’ Simon Peter said briefly, then looked at the wrestlers who were warming up their bulging muscles.

  ‘Back home, are you, Blake?’ Kane said disinterestedly.

  ‘Only for a short time,’ Simon Peter replied, keeping his eyes on the ring. ‘I’ve come to take someone back to Yorkshire with me.’

  They said no more. Philip Trenchard and the Barvah Giant were shaking hands and no one wanted to miss a minute of the match, not even Kane now. An atmosphere of great expectancy hung in the damp, chilling air. The betting had never been as heavy as it was today, the anticipation as fraught. Not a sound was to be heard outside the ring. It seemed as if the busy market town and sea port had come to a sudden standstill.

  The crowd were of one hope, that the wrestlers would take their time and give them a long match to savour and remember afterwards. Matthew King looked as confident as he always did, but Philip had a stronger grip on himself today, more control over his movements, an utterly determined glint in his blue Trenchard eyes as he waited for the Giant to make the first move.

  Kane looked anxiously at every eager face in the crowd but still there was no sign of Jessica. Was she well? It wasn’t like her to miss Philip’s wrestling.

  Nearly fifteen minutes passed. A child coughed and Matthew King checked the movement he’d been about to make and a ripple like the sound of a rushing stream went round the crowd, then it fell silent again.

  Clem felt Kane’s eyes studying his face and he looked back at him, gazing steadily for a moment, then he los
t interest. His hopes were high and his fists were clenched for his son. He knew Philip felt he was going to win today and Clem’s guts were churning for him, just as a father’s do when he desperately wants to see his son succeed at something as a small child. If Philip won, Clem wouldn’t be able to wait to get back to the farm and proudly tell Catherine what her stepson had done. And to give her the little gift he had bought for her, a tiny bottle of perfume whose purchase had cost him a much embarrassed soul.

  Philip paced the ground, patient and in control, waiting for the Giant to do something. They could stay here all day and all night and it wouldn’t bother him.

  Two latecomers joined the crowd and the man’s great height ensured them a swift passage to the front of the ring. Sir Oliver and Kerensa, Lady Pengarron, took up position somewhere in the middle between their elder son and Clem and his group. Oliver nodded at Kane and a few acquaintances who couldn’t miss him and momentarily gave him their attention. Kerensa watched the wrestlers to get a feel of how the match was going. Then she looked around the crowd and caught Clem’s eye. He looked back for just a moment. It wasn’t a particularly friendly acknowledgement and she thought he must still be angry over Jessica. He looked different. Proud and upright, in control of himself, a bearing in him that she hadn’t seen for twenty-two years, not since the days of their betrothal, before he had lost her. Marriage to Miss Catherine Lanyon had certainly changed him. His shows of attentiveness over her at church were not for nothing then. Kerensa suddenly, desperately, wanted to speak to Clem.

  At last the Barvah Giant made his first move, trying his favourite forehip. Philip calmly and ably countered it; he kept his ground and warded the Giant off by holding his forearms up then pushing him away with them.

  The crowd cheered with a sound like a hurricane. They fell quiet when the wrestlers resumed their pacing, facing one another like bulls pawing the ground. A cold wind got up and whistled round the ring of tense spectators, but no one heard or felt it.

  David noticed Simon Peter squeezed in, practically under Kane’s arm, and smiled quietly to himself. He was praying that Philip would win his heart’s desire today. His twin would be happy, as happy as his uncle and Kerris were, and his father and Catherine seemed to be. Then perhaps it would be easier to tell his family – those who had no inkling what was on his mind – that he intended to go away with Simon Peter and become an itinerant preacher. Matthias Renfree had taught him, as he had all the family, to read and write, but he’d also given him extra lessons on the Bible and David knew it through and through. He wanted only to give his life to its teachings and he hoped his father would understand. If Clem let him go with his blessing, then there was only Jessica to worry about.

  His sister seemed happy enough these days and responded with affection to her new stepmother. Jessica had looked beautiful in her new dress on the double wedding day. She had behaved with perfect decorum and the family had been proud of her. It was not her day, of course, and no one would have expected her to look as radiant as the two blissfully happy brides but she seemed to have suddenly grown up overnight and had showed an astonishingly calm maturity that gave her a delicate, ethereal beauty. Now all she had to do was to mend her broken heart.

  David glanced at the tall, commanding but gaunt-faced figure of Kane Pengarron. Or have it mended, he thought. And then his sister could take away the despair in those eyes so deep and dark they could be clearly seen across the ring. She was supposed to have come to watch Philip fight. Their father was looking for her among the expectant crowd now. Was she deliberately staying away because she knew Kane Pengarron would probably be here?

  Philip had never felt so happy in all his life. He was almost light-headed with the certainty he was going to win this match. He decided to make a move and went for a ‘crook’. He got a good grip on the Giant’s sash and pulled one of his feet off the ground. Then pivoting round to face the same way as his opponent, Philip passed a leg inside one of the Giant’s and crooked his foot above a thick ankle. Then he pulled the Giant’s head and huge shoulders against his chest and, lifting the foot he was crooking higher, he attempted to throw the Giant over and drop him on his back. It was in desperation more than by his brute strength that the Giant managed to rip himself free and send Philip hurtling away.

  The crowd went wild and Oliver clutched Kerensa to him to keep her safely on her feet. He watched Philip Trenchard crow his pride to the crowd and wondered if Clem was feeling justly proud of his strapping son. Clem looked animated enough. And Oliver noticed the same changes in him as Kerensa had. Their eyes met, and for the first time there was no challenge in Clem’s. In fact he bowed his head in respect to Oliver’s station before looking away and happily cheering on his son. Oliver was amazed. What had happened? Surely the parson’s sister had not wrought such a change in this moody individual, and so soon. She was more than an agreeable-looking woman and possessed a pleasing character. Indeed, if she had been available years ago when he was looking for a suitable lady merely to take to wife to mother his children, he would have been glad to choose her. Then he wouldn’t have been outwitted, in a bargain over Trelynne Cove, into taking the owner’s sweet young granddaughter as his wife. Then Kerensa would have married Clem instead of him and… Oliver chuckled at his musings and Kerensa looked up at him curiously. He hugged her tight and whispered under his breath, ‘Thank God Catherine Lanyon wasn’t around then.’

  It was now more than an hour since the wrestling match had started and the crowd was nicely warmed up to it. The odd mutter went round its ranks as the betting changed heavily in Philip’s favour. The skies suddenly opened up and rain fell in a steady rhythm but Matthew King was sweating like an ox on a hot summer’s day. He wiped at the moisture over his eyes.

  The tension got the better of Paul King and he shouted, ‘Get on with it, Matt!’

  ‘I’m doing me ruddy best!’ Matthew bawled back and a roar of laughter went round the crowd.

  The wrestlers got back to business. Philip could sense the Barvah Giant was getting tired and he decided to take advantage of it. He went for a flamboyant counterattack on the Giant’s next hitch, a throw only a very strong man could attempt. Matthew had his hefty body turned into Philip and was trying to throw him over his hip. Philip lifted him up on his own hip and, gripping the Giant’s sash, pivoted him round and dropped him heavily on his back. Matthew King could not keep both hips off the ground and Philip Trenchard got a ‘back’. He had beaten the Barvah Giant.

  Kane didn’t want to fight his way through the jubilant crowd and congratulate the victor, who already had his family and numerous women vying to shake his hand, hug him, and paw his muscular body as the rain skimmed off his blond hair. Kane only wanted to find Jessica and try to talk to her.

  His parents were at his side. ‘I’m taking your mother to the Commercial Inn out of the rain. Are you coming with us?’ Oliver shouted above the noise.

  ‘No, thank you. I’ll see you later at home,’ and before his mother could protest, he kissed her wet cheek and moved away.

  He was looking around, wondering where Jessica was most likely to be if she’d come at all, when a hand touched his arm.

  Simon Peter said, ‘Will you come to the coffee shop with me, Kane? I would like to talk to you.’

  ‘Not now,’ Kane replied gruffly. ‘I have business to attend to.’

  ‘That’s what I want to talk to you about,’ Simon Peter persisted.

  Kane looked at him stupidly. How could he possibly know what he had on his mind?

  But Simon Peter did, for he next said, ‘I want to talk to you about Jessica Trenchard.’

  The coffee shop was filled to capacity with rain-drenched gentlemen who had watched the wrestling; the place resounded with their excited post-mortem of the event. Kane and Simon Peter found a quieter comer. Kane did not wait for their coffee to be served before demanding from the other man exactly what it was he wanted to talk about.

  ‘My parents have told me about all t
he things that have happened to Jessica in the time I’ve spent away from Cornwall,’ Simon Peter began. ‘I was amazed. But that apart, I understand she’s very unhappy.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this, Blake?’ Kane demanded impatiently.

  ‘I’m going back to Yorkshire soon. I would dearly like to ask Jessica to come with me – as my wife.’

  Kane gasped and reddened.

  Simon Peter went on, ‘In her present mood she might accept.’

  ‘Are you going to ask her?’

  ‘I only wish I could. I’ve asked her often enough but she has always turned me down. Even my mother asked her to consider me and that didn’t work. I love Jessica very much but…’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘I think she’ll only ever marry for love and she’s not in love with me.’

  Kane looked at Simon Peter with a mixture of extreme irritation and curiosity. ‘What are you trying to say, man? And how can you possibly know what you’re talking about anyway? You’ve only just got back to Mount’s Bay.’

  ‘I’ve listened carefully to all the talk. The bay is still full of it where you Pengarrons and the Trenchards are concerned. I know Jessica very well.’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Blake, where is all this getting us?’ Kane exclaimed, making other coffee drinkers look at them. He lowered his voice. ‘I shall leave the very next minute if you don’t explain.’

  ‘Well, apparently Jessica said she hated you more than anyone else, and I understand she has kept up her resentment against you. Well, mayhap she cares very deeply about things where you are concerned.’

  ‘You think Jessica cares for me?’ he asked incredulously, as a waiter put their coffee in front of them. He toyed with the cup’s curved handle and waited for Simon Peter to continue.