‘I said mayhap. Her behaviour is not typical. She usually blows hot one moment and cools down the next. You remember what she was like as a child.’
‘She’s no longer a child,’ Kane pointed out, but he was avidly interested now.
‘That’s the point. If she can be so intransigent now it must mean it goes deeply with her.’ Simon Peter stirred his coffee then looked Kane straight in the face. ‘She’s worth fighting for, don’t you think?’
‘You’re damned right!’ And Kane had to lower his voice again. ‘Simon, you are a good man not pestering Jessica again, especially as she might accept you just to get out of her unhappy situation. Thank you for thinking of me. I suppose if you’re in love with a woman you recognise when someone else is too. Actually I was just on my way to track her down in the town when you insisted we come here. You have given me heart to approach her.’
‘Then don’t allow me to waste any more of your time,’ Simon Peter said.
Kane got up and shook Simon Peter’s hand firmly. ‘Thank you, you’ve proved yourself a good friend and a true gentleman today. Was it Jessica you came home to take back to Yorkshire with you?’
‘No, that was someone else but I’m not at liberty to say who.’
‘I wish you well,’ Kane said, and he was soon shoving his way hurriedly out of the coffee shop.
* * *
Luke Pengarron was also in town. He had witnessed the last moments of the wrestling match; he had inherited his father’s height and was able to watch it from the back. He’d put two hundred guineas on the Barvah Giant and felt quite sporting about his loss, but he hoped Philip Trenchard would soon get his face rubbed well and truly in the mud.
He felt at a loose end today but had no wish to join in the crush in the coffee shop. He no longer had Sebastian Beswetherick to accompany him when it suited him and since the sword fight with Kane, his brother had shunned his company, hardly speaking to him when he dragged himself away from his farm at Gulval and came home for short intervals. Luke knew why. Kane was obviously in love with Jessica Trenchard and it would take him a long time to forgive him for lying that he had got the girl with child. Mind you, Luke thought, as he strolled along under the gloomy sky, it’s an easy task for a man to fall in love with Jessica Trenchard.
Luke spent an unnecessary half-hour at his barber’s having the ends of his long black hair tidied. He heard no gossip that entertained him and stepped outside in a dismal mood, his head down, but at least the rain had stopped. A small, well-clad foot appearing out from under a good-quality cloak and dress stopped in front of him. Thinking a lady acquaintance was about to brighten his afternoon, he looked up expectantly. ‘Jessica! It’s good to see you. How are you?’
‘Do you care?’ she asked coolly.
‘Yes, of course. Yes. Oh, let me explain about what I let everyone believe about you and me. I am sincerely sorry for your distress. I… didn’t think of it from your point of view and I beg you to believe that I didn’t purposely say it to sully your reputation.’
Jessica eyed his earnest face, as dark and handsome as ever. ‘Well, I never thought I’d live to see the day the great high and mighty Luke Pengarron, heir to the Lord of the Manor, would not only apologise to me but grovel as well.’
She walked on past him and he followed her. ‘Please, will you give me a chance to explain, Jessie? I was going to write to you but I thought you’d look on it as a lame attempt to avoid explaining things to your face. And knowing you, you’d probably have torn it up before reading it and hate me more.’
‘What makes you think I hate you?’ she asked casually as she stopped at a dressmaker’s shop.
‘You said so, at the Manor that day. You said you hated us all and I took that as me in particular after what I’d said. Please don’t go in there. Talk to me, just for a little while, Jessie.’
Jessica sighed. ‘Oh, very well.’
The rain had held off for a few minutes but there were still lots of people milling about. ‘Let’s go somewhere quieter,’ Luke said, offering his arm. ‘There’s a house nearby that belongs to a friend of the family. She isn’t at home at present but we’re always welcome to use her parlour. You have my word of honour you will be perfectly safe. Her maid will be there and she is a strict Methodist.’
‘Just for a little while then,’ Jessica said firmly, shivering despite the thick, soft wool of the new cloak Catherine had given her. ‘The wind is cold. I’ll be glad to get warm.’
The house was a small Palladian building, quite new and painted pastel pinks and blues. Jessica was impressed by its elegance and tasteful furnishings. The ‘strict Methodist’ maid looked friendly enough. She showed them into the parlour which housed a welcome roaring log fire and departed to fetch a tray of tea.
Jessica refused to have her hat and cloak removed but allowed Luke to show her to a chair near the wide marble hearthside. They spoke little until the tea was brought in and the maid had left, leaving the door a little ajar.
Luke poured the tea and Jessica was grateful for its warmth.
‘You must be very proud of your brother for winning his match against the Barvah Giant,’ he said conversationally.
‘That’s right, I am. He might not be too pleased with me though. I didn’t watch it,’ she admitted.
‘Oh?’ Luke raised his black eyebrows in surprise. ‘Why was that?’
She looked down at the flames flaring and twisting on the blackened logs. ‘I know it sounds silly but I just didn’t want to.’
Luke felt concerned. ‘But why not, Jessica?’
She shrugged her shoulders and her golden curls fell about them. ‘I don’t really know. I suppose…’
‘Yes?’
‘I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but… against all the odds my father seems happy married to Miss Catherine. My Uncle Kenver is happy married to Kerris. David is planning to go away and start a new life and will be happy doing what he’s always wanted to do the most. If Philip got his heart’s desire…’ She looked forlornly at Luke. ‘I couldn’t have faced him being so happy as well, with me being so miserable deep inside.’
‘Dear Jessie. I’m partly to blame for your misery. You must think me very cruel to have used your curl of hair and said what I did. If I explain, perhaps it will cheer you a little.’
‘I will be most interested in what you have to say,’ she said. She looked as if it was unlikely she would believe him.
‘That day we were sitting round the dining table. It was just an ordinary family meal and life seemed its usual ordinary, boring self. Then from out of nowhere your father burst into the room hurling accusations at me. My father sprang up in fury and they were quarrelling and somehow they looked ridiculous. It didn’t seem real. Then I was laughing and taking out the curl you’d given me. It was your father I was trying to hurt, not you, Jessie.
‘Then Kane leapt on the table in front of me shouting furiously at me. I wanted to hurt him too. Him with his perfect body, an army career behind him that should have been mine. I wanted to hurt him, not you, never you, Jessie. I deliberately provoked that sword fight with him because I wanted to prove I was as masculine as him, that I could leap about and show off and not just be the brother with only one good arm. Do you understand? Do you believe me?’ He was beside her now, looking down at her out of intense dark eyes.
‘Yes, I think I do.’
Luke smiled a deep, beautiful smile. He knelt and took her cup and saucer away. Then he produced her curl. ‘I’m going to make a full confession to you. That day in Trelynne Cove I asked you for this with one intention only. The hair for Cordelia’s doll was only an excuse. I’d always intended to seduce you, Jessica. I’d made a wager with Sebastian Beswetherick that I would have my way with you and I was going to use this as proof that I had.’
Jessica could easily believe that this young gentleman could have planned such a despicable thing. But his confession spoke of a different outcome. She wondered why. ‘You could have told
Sebastian Beswetherick that we had been together. You had the proof.’
He took her hand. ‘I couldn’t do that to you, my dear, and I swear you are dear to me.’
Jessica gazed back at him and thought that she would not mind if this handsome young man kissed her. She was in great need of comfort, of warm physical contact. As she did not pull her hand from his, Luke stood up and raised her gently to him. Then he put his arms round her waist and she put hers round his neck and they kissed softly.
‘I shall be satisfied with just that,’ he said lightly.
It was good but it was all she could give him. ‘It will have to do for the rest of your life,’ she told him quietly.
Luke detected a movement where the door was ajar and recognised the colour of the cloak Kane was wearing today. He still had Jessica in his arms and as Kane pushed the door open, he gave her another small kiss on the lips.
Kane’s gasp of horror made Jessica whirl round and Luke lazily dropped his arms. Luke made a deliberate act of looking surprised. Jessica turned bright red and Kane a deathly white.
‘Do excuse me,’ he said in a voice that sent icy tingles down her spine. ‘I didn’t realise I would be interrupting something.’ He turned and left the house.
Cordelia entered the parlour a short time later loaded down with parcels to find Luke in an exceptionally good mood. He was alone and singing to himself over a glass of fine brandy. He held out an arm to her and she went to him to be hugged and kissed.
‘You are very happy,’ she remarked, fussing with the packages. ‘Did you put a large wager on Philip Trenchard? It’s all around the town how well he won the wrestling.’
‘No, actually I lost two hundred guineas on the Barvah Giant. Have you been shopping again for Olivia’s wedding?’
‘Yes, do you want to see? Why are you so happy then?’
‘Come here, my dear,’ he said.
‘Well?’
He put his arm round her and held her close. ‘Well, some people can’t have what they want most in the world,’ he said, recalling Kane’s stricken face. ‘I don’t suppose any of us can,’ he added, moving his rigid arm. ‘But there are always compensations.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ Cordelia agreed, not really understanding what he was going on about.
He kissed the top of her small dark head. ‘Well, I’ll always have you, won’t I?’
She gazed up at him with adoration written over her little sparrow face, and said, ‘It’s all I’ve ever dreamed about.’
Chapter 29
Kane rode straight and fast to Frances Nansmere’s brothel. The rain had started again and came down on him in a deluge and the wind howled and tormented him. He was soaked through to the skin when he hammered on the brothel door. He was admitted by the maidservant who showed him into a room where several scantily clad prostitutes were lolling around on plush furniture. Kane took in their appearance with one moody sweep of his eyes as they automatically turned on their charms to attract him. They were all younger than Frances Nansmere, most were prettier and had better figures, but he had no interest in them. He swept out of the highly perfumed room to saucy giggles and disappointed comments.
‘Get me Mistress Nansmere,’ he ordered the maidservant harshly, making her blink, curtsey, mutter an apology and rush up the winding stairs with a clatter of shoes.
He threw off his wet cloak and hat and paced the hallway impatiently until Frances Nansmere came floating down the stairs alone.
‘My dear sir. My dear Kane.’ She stretched out an arm and fluttered her fingers awhile before she reached the bottom step. ‘How wonderful to see you again. It is an honour to have you here again. My apologies for Annie showing you into the girls’ room before calling for me. I have brought in some new ones, they are all very good. Some new to the profession but willing to please, some highly experienced. I take it you are not interested in any of them?’
Kane took her hand as she alighted the last step, kissed it firmly, then said bluntly, ‘I want you.’
‘Oh, good. I shall enjoy a little talk with you. There is a nice cosy fire burning in my parlour. Shall I lead the way?’
Kane still had hold of her hand. He said, quite forcefully now, ‘I want you in your bedchamber, Frances. Is it convenient?’
‘Yes, yes,’ she said in delight and he immediately put his foot on the stairs and they climbed up together.
Frances’s bedchamber was a mixture of the exotic and the refined. The bed was massive, draped in filmy silks and covers. Pictures of every description, some extremely erotic, covered the walls. Silver candelabra and a gigantic crystal chandelier, Chinese vases and pots of dried, scented flower petals lent atmosphere and beauty to the room.
Frances had noticed his strained features and that he looked drained of energy. He would need something to revive him. She went to a table laden with liquor.
‘What can I get you, my dear?’ she said in a silky voice. ‘Champagne, red wine, white wine, brandy?’
‘A large brandy, thank you,’ he said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed.
She poured brandy for him and white wine for herself while he pulled off his boots and half lay, half sat against the many plump, silk-covered pillows at the top of the bed.
‘You look rather tired, Kane. Have you been busy of late?’ She gave him his drink and positioned herself beside him. She stroked his arm and hair, caressing his cheek then running a soft finger along his lips, waiting patiently for him to reply.
At length, he said, ‘Yes and no. I’ve taken my time getting used to being home and looking over the changes in the parish. But I’ve also recently signed the deeds for a property at Gulval, Vellanoweth Farm.’
‘Then we won’t be too far away. I’m so pleased. I hope you will come here often.’ Frances finished her wine then began to take off her dress. Kane slowly sipped his brandy, gazing at her soft white flesh as it was revealed to him.
‘I don’t want to waste time talking,’ she said, casting aside her stays, ‘but I’m curious to know how things went with the old woman Meg. Have you found out what you wanted to know about your parents?’
‘I found Meg most interesting,’ he said, smiling a little at the memory of her. ‘A great animal lover. She’s left the swamp now. I hope she’s set herself up in a nice little cottage for herself and her cats and rabbits and the rest of what she calls her family.’
Kane told Frances the full story of Peggy Wearne and how it was impossible to know who his real father was.
‘But at least it wasn’t that sailor you thought it was,’ Frances said, moving her hands about his thigh. ‘Are you pleased?’
‘Yes. I’ve got the past into perspective but before you say any more, I don’t want to talk about the future.’
‘Or the woman you love?’ she asked, knowing it was daring of her but curious as to why he wanted this change of service from her today.
Kane threw his glass angrily across the room and it smashed into a myriad tinkling pieces against the wall. Frances’s eyes followed its passage but then Kane pulled her roughly into his arms and kissed her long and ardently.
‘Mmmm,’ she murmured, ‘you kiss as excitingly as you get into a sudden temper. I like to listen to you talk. What else are you good at, I wonder.’
Frances untied her silk shift and let it fall to reveal what little there was left to reveal. Kane looked momentarily then gathered her back to him and they kissed again. Frances moved her trained hands about him. To undo his breeches, to pull out his shirt, to touch, to stimulate. But he kept bringing her arms back round his neck and after several minutes they had progressed no further than kissing. Then he sighed.
‘You’re tired,’ she purred. ‘Lie down and leave things to me.’
He did as she bade but his body was tense and after a few moments more, she lay down beside him. He put an arm round her exquisite bare shoulders and she rested hers over his middle.
‘Are you nice and comfortable now?’ she asked soft
ly.
‘Yes. You’re right, Frances. I am tired. I feel as though I want to sleep for the next week. Well leave it till later.’
‘Some men can take a mistress while they’re in love or married,’ she said softly, ‘even if they deeply love their wives, simply for the hour’s pleasure or because they need more than what they receive from their wives.’
He lay still, just listening.
‘I’ve recently acquired a local gentleman like that who comes occasionally when he absolutely has to. But not you, Kane. You can only give yourself to the woman you love. All I could give you is cold comfort and you can’t allow yourself to relax and accept that.’ She stayed silent for a while, then said carefully, ‘Would you like to talk about her? Usually I hate being made a confidante over a man’s love but I would be most interested in yours.’
Kane stared thoughtfully at the lustrous canopy above them for some time. Then he said, low and huskily, ‘She’s as beautiful and free as the summer sky, as wild and unpredictable as the sea. I’ve known her since we were small children but it’s only a short time since I knew I loved her. We used to be good friends but we’ve quarrelled a lot since I’ve been home. Then there was a thunderstorm and she was terrified and I comforted her. Oh, how I like to hold her – it’s like holding something vital to my very being, something which is badly missing when she’s not in my arms. I think she cared for me deeply too. Then she was in great danger but when I knew she was safe, instead of taking her in my arms and telling her how relieved I was, I just bawled at her. I wanted to tell her that I loved her and couldn’t bear to lose her but instead I was cruel and upset her. Later there was another incident and she told me she hated me. She won’t ever forgive me, Frances.’
‘You can’t be sure of that,’ Frances said gently.
Kane shifted his position and got comfortable again. ‘Anyway, it’s too late now. She’s lost interest in me. Just before I came here I found her in my brother’s arms. They were kissing.’
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