Abigail didn’t go back to the gatehouse but made her way to the big house. She often felt drawn to it and she was in luck today to find the workmen had all left.
She had managed to procure a spare key to the front door from Alex, on the condition she didn’t disturb him in the study. She sat awhile in the drawing room. She was offended to find the study door was locked. Did Alex think she was going to rifle through his silly papers! She went upstairs and looked in the nearest of the twelve bedrooms. When she’d first heard about Alex inheriting Trevallion, and considered the possibility that the house might be set aside for Stephen, she’d taken it for granted that it would need a great deal of redecorating. But many of the rooms had been superbly painted and prepared, perhaps in readiness for Harriet Bosanko, and were still in good condition.
She walked to the window and looked out over the front of the house at a glorious view of the creek and the river beyond it. She thought she heard a sound and listened for it again for a moment then moved on to the next room.
It was a double room with a huge four-poster bed. She touched the silk-shot russet-coloured coverlet and heard the sound again, like footsteps. She listened hard. It was footsteps. Abigail told herself not to be so silly, but the footsteps came again. She felt nervous. This was silly. If there was someone in the house with her it would be Percy Gummoe, or Alex come back from his river trip, but somehow she knew it wasn’t either of them. The footsteps came nearer, and nearer. She stepped further into the room and hid behind the drapes hanging round the bed. Her heart stopped and she wished she had shut the bedroom door behind her.
The footsteps came to the doorway and stopped. She clamped a hand to her mouth to stop herself from making a sound. The next moment the footsteps entered the room.
Chapter 19
She clutched the bedcurtain tightly and tried not to cry out.
The curtain was snatched out of her hand and she screamed.
‘Did I frighten you?’
‘Joe Carlyon! You fool! I nearly died of fright.’
‘What on earth for? You didn’t think I was a ghost, did you?’
‘Well, the house is supposed to be haunted, isn’t it?’ Abigail was embarrassed and she couldn’t stop shaking.
Joe took her by the arm and led her to sit on the high bed. She picked at the coverlet underneath her, feeling a fool. There were framed pictures on the walls of the river and woodlands and she flicked her eyes from one to the other rather than look at Joe. She was glad to be alone with him though, to have him standing in front of her, his magnificent body towering over her, his hands resting on his wide hips. She felt rather shy, like a girl alone with a man for the first time.
‘Wh-what are you doing here, Joe?’
‘I saw you come in. I wanted to know if your headache had gone.’
‘Yes, it has. How sweet of you to be concerned.’
He was close to her and she could smell him. It was a natural animal smell, that of a man who used his strength and muscles to earn his living. Abigail was dizzy with excitement and longing for him. Her momentary girlish panic vanished. She stood up, moved in a slinky fashion to within an inch of him, and tilted her lovely face to his dark eyes. ‘Is that the only reason?’
‘No.’
She clenched her fists. She knew what he was here for, why he had followed her into the house. He was no fool, he had read the signals she’d given him on the creek bank. There would be no beating about the bush but she mustn’t touch him first. He wouldn’t like that and she didn’t want to have to beg him like she had Alex.
She raised her delicate brows and purred. ‘What other reason have you for being here?’
‘I wanted to see you again, alone.’
His hands came up swiftly and pulled her body against his. He kissed her savagely. Abigail gave him her mouth open and demanding, thrusting herself into him. She hoped he would be rough with her. Neville Faull liked to take his time, tease and tantalise and heighten his own and his lover’s awareness. But Abigail wanted Joe this instant. If he had hesitated, she would have ripped his clothes off. He lifted her off her feet like a daisy in a meadow and dropped her onto the bed.
When their first need was spent, they undressed and took their time twice more. Finally she lay against his massive hairy chest, looking up at the brown painted plaster ceiling, the pale orange walls and gold-coloured curtains at the window.
‘I like this room. I like autumn colours,’ she sighed contentedly.
‘I shall always have fond memories of it,’ he murmured, kissing her soft hair.
He was thinking about their lovemaking. He’d been amazed at her agility and imaginativeness. Joe had never bothered much with women. There had been a short burst of fervency in his youth and the odd encounter since. He’d thought he’d known all there was to know; after all, he had been in the army where there’d been much talk of the physical side of life. But he had discovered more with Abigail in one hour than he had all his adult life. He stroked the glistening skin on her shoulder and grinned manfully to himself. She might even know something more.
She leaned up and kissed his lips. ‘You were wonderful, Joe.’
He grinned proudly. ‘I’m glad you thought so.’
‘We must meet again but we’ll have to be careful.’
Joe knew the main reason for subterfuge was because of the Major’s disapproval if he found out. And it would be more than that. Alexander Fiennes obviously knew his sister-in-law for a loose woman, but he would feel they’d both betrayed him. Joe suddenly felt disloyal to Miles Trevallion, performing an illicit act under his roof. But he couldn’t simply say ‘no more’ to this lady. She wouldn’t allow him to and he didn’t want her to. He knew that when she’d had enough of him or if she ever found it inconvenient, she would finish it. Best to leave it at that and enjoy himself while it lasted.
Abigail was thinking about Joe’s performance. He had great virility but he didn’t seem to know very much for a man in his thirties. Her demands had taken him aback to begin with but then he’d cast off his inhibitions like autumn leaves. She lay still, enjoying the sensation of his big rough hands grazing her back and wished there was time for one more tussle.
‘When I heard your footsteps I thought the rumours about there being a ghost here were true,’ she said.
‘I’ve never believed those stories myself. There’s bound to be a lot of creaks and groans in an old house, sudden draughts making doors slam, mice scurrying about.’
‘Many of the locals seem convinced of it. Stephen says that Tamsyn refuses to come anywhere near the house and apart from Rebecca none of the other women in the creek will come in here alone. What’s the story behind the haunting, Joe? Rebecca said the ghost is believed to be of Roland Trevallion.’
‘All I’ve heard is that he had money troubles because of the mining slump. It’s all anyone’s said to me, anyway. People will think differently if and when the house is lived in again. They’ll be in here fast enough then if the Major offers them work.’
Joe waited for Abigail to confide in him about her hopes for the house but mention of her brother-in-law had set her thinking about Alex rather than Trevallion’s eventual fate.
If she had been successful with him last night, she was certain she wouldn’t have been able to let herself go as she had this afternoon. With a sudden burning urgency she wanted to know what it would have been like with Alex. With his careless clothes, lean rangy body, gaunt face and haunted eyes, she wanted him even more than this rough-cast groom whose naked flesh she lay upon. She used her imagination on what it might have been like with Alex last night and felt the heat surging through her again. Alex wasn’t here but Joe Carlyon was. Oh, to hell with the time!
* * *
When Alex and the Jenkins moored the Lady Harriet in the creek, they found themselves doing so in front of a female audience. The women in Jenny’s cottage had just finished washing up their teacups and glasses and were getting ready to disperse to make the ev
ening meal when Tamsyn had rushed through the door to tell them the Major was back. Refusing to watch with the women because he hadn’t been allowed to go on the boat that morning, and furious with Tamsyn for wanting to watch Alex come ashore, Stephen stamped back to the gatehouse.
Jossy and his sons grinned as wide as their mouths would stretch as they brought the craft in expertly to its usual berth. Victor jumped out and tied the rope securely to a post on the bank. Rebecca sought Alex’s face and was satisfied to see him looking quietly exhilarated. The sea air and winds had put colour in his cheeks and he seemed to be holding himself straighten
She was holding baby Miles George to give Gwen a rest and Ira Jenkins nudged her arm. ‘Looks like he’s enjoyed himself, the Major, doesn’t he?’
Rebecca agreed and Ira moved closer to whisper in her ear, ‘We’ve all noticed that he likes you, Becca. You just go on making him feel at home and we’ll keep him here for good.’
‘It’s not up to me what the Major decides to do, Ira,’ Rebecca replied, frowning. She was receiving too many of these sort of remarks.
She didn’t want the responsibility for the estate’s future to rest on her shoulders. Ira smiled out of the side of her face and nodded wisely then walked away.
Rebecca was a little dismayed that when Alex leapt ashore he came straight up to her. She felt a dozen knowing faces on her and forgot she was holding the baby.
‘Is that the baby I named?’ he asked cheerfully.
‘What? Oh, yes,’ she replied, feeling herself go red and holding Miles George at an angle so Alex could see his tiny face.
The audience came closer and watched proudly as their new master put a gentle finger on the baby’s cheek. Miles George puckered up his pink features and Alex smiled at Rebecca.
‘I think he likes me.’
‘And why shouldn’t he?’ spoke up a smiling Jenny Jenkins. ‘He knows a fine man when he sees one.’
Rebecca was feeling uncomfortable but Alex nearly died of embarrassment. ‘I… um, yes. I hope you ladies had a good bridal party.’
‘We did,’ Ira Jenkins said, pushing the bashful bride forward.
‘Congratulations,’ Alex said to Margaret.
‘Thank you, sir.’ She bobbed an awkward curtsy.
‘See you at the church, will we, Major?’ Jenny asked, half-teasingly, half-hopefully.
Alex looked horrorstricken at Rebecca. ‘I suppose Miles went to every wedding, baptism and funeral.’
‘Never missed a single one,’ Rebecca replied cheekily. She couldn’t help being amused at his discomfort.
‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ Alex told Margaret gallantly.
‘I’ll have to dig a suit out from somewhere now,’ Alex said accusingly as he and Rebecca walked back to the gatehouse in front of Loveday and Tamsyn.
‘I’ll do it for you if it’s that much trouble.’ Rebecca was swinging the empty champagne bottle by its long green neck. Alex watched the pendulous movements with a glum face.
‘Some friend you are.’
‘It’s expected of you to go, and don’t be so grumpy. How did you get on with Miss Bosanko? Did you actually see her?’
The inconvenience of having a wedding to attend was instantly forgotten. ‘She’s remarkable, Becca. I’ve never met anyone like her in my whole life. There are portraits of her as a young woman in her house. You couldn’t have called her beautiful then, not like Harriet was, but she was very appealing. Now she is hideously ugly. But there’s plenty of life in her. She’s a risqué old thing and rather formidable,’ he laughed. ‘I couldn’t tear myself away from her. I’ve invited her over to Trevallion in two weeks’ time when the house should be ready to receive visitors.’
Overhearing parts of what was an interesting conversation, Loveday quickened her pace and closed the gap between them.
‘I hope I get the chance to meet her,’ Rebecca said. It would be interesting to meet the author of those love letters. She knew Loveday would be dying to know whom she and the Major were talking about; she could imagine Loveday’s disgust if she read the letters.
‘You will,’ Alex said, his eyes twinkling. ‘She said she’s looking forward to meeting you.’
‘Why me? She doesn’t know me. Why did you talk about me? What did you tell her?’
‘The truth,’ Alex said, putting an arm round her shoulders and shocking Loveday who was almost on their heels. ‘That you’re my friend.’
Rebecca could imagine the expression on Loveday’s face and heard her tell Tamsyn off for giggling. She knew that allowing Alex to keep his arm round her would fuel Ira Jenkins’ observations but she couldn’t push his arm away without hurting his feelings.
The roadmender had already done much to repair the road they were walking along and they admired his work. Then Rebecca said, ‘It’s not my place to tell you, but Mr Neville Faull was here this morning hoping to see you.’
Alex scowled. ‘I’m glad I was out. Did he say what he wanted?’
‘I’ve no idea. You’ll have to ask Mrs Fiennes.’
‘I can’t stand that man.’
‘So I can see.’
‘If he had his way he’d get me to sell Trevallion off in little chunks and have the house turned into a hotel. I won’t do that to Miles, I won’t have tourists tramping all over his property. He would have trusted me to do things for the best.’
‘That’ll be a big worry off the estate’s mind,’ Rebecca said, hoping Loveday had heard that and could see that the Major was capable of making up his own mind about estate affairs.
She thought about Neville Faull and her agreement to go out with him. No one on the estate would approve and her father would be furious if he found out. Alex despised Faull and Mrs Fiennes seemed to have no time for him either. It would be simpler to write to the young solicitor and break their arrangement but she was feeling rebellious and it would be fun to go out on the handsome, sophisticated man’s arm. She’d just have to be careful to keep his amorous attentions at bay. She’d go out with him this once and take care to keep it quiet.
* * *
‘You’re getting some friendly with the Major, aren’t you?’ Loveday said prudishly. They were in the kitchen preparing the evening meal.
‘What do you mean?’ Rebecca asked defensively. She had expected this from the moment Loveday had begun to breathe down her neck on the walk back.
‘You and him all armed up, that’s what I mean.’
‘We’re friendly because that’s how he looks on me, Loveday, as a friend.’ Rebecca tried to sound patient but she wanted to shake the sanctimonious look off Loveday’s face.
Loveday plonked down a saucepan of carrots on the range, making water splash over the top and hiss. ‘Friend indeed! He’s your employer and a gentleman. You’re setting your sights high, aren’t you, Rebecca Allen?’
Rebecca was suddenly very angry. ‘Sometimes the lot of you on this estate make me sick! Keep in with the Major, Becca. He’s taken to you, Becca. We’re relying on you, Becca. If I was rude to him or ignored him you wouldn’t like it, but because we’ve actually become friends you don’t like that either! I’m fed up with the lot of you putting pressure on me and I won’t have you turning on me and making sarcastic remarks. Get the meal yourself, Loveday. I’m not a slave here. I don’t have to stay here. I could go and live with my Uncle Bert in Truro. I could easily get a job in a shop there if I wanted to. I’m sure Mr Faull could arrange something but you wouldn’t like that either, would you!’ Rebecca stamped out leaving Loveday thunderstruck.
Chapter 20
Loveday apologised to Rebecca but, although the apology was readily accepted, Rebecca became quiet and withdrawn. Abigail didn’t seem to notice, she didn’t want Rebecca at her beck and call any more; it seemed she had developed a liking for her own company. For the past three days she had gone riding and walking about the creek alone, and she often went to the great house when Alex wasn’t there. Abigail had told herself that the reason she didn�
�t want Rebecca around her was because it would hamper her assignations with Joe; she wouldn’t admit it was more to do with being jealous of the girl’s closeness to Alex.
Alex asked Rebecca more than once if she was ill or if anything was worrying her but she simply replied she was fine. She was perfectly civil and attentive to him but he knew something was wrong and was disappointed she did not confide in him. He wondered if Trease was drinking again but the chauffeur always seemed sober and busy about his work.
Alex thought about Rebecca as he stood on the roadside spot at Perranporth where long ago Aristotle Trevallion had built his house. Unlike at the old mine ruins, there was no sign that a building had once stood here. Rough grasses, heather and bracken had reclaimed the area, a small plot of land which Robert Drayton had confirmed he owned. Alex liked the spot. The wild rugged atmosphere revived his spirits which had dipped with Rebecca’s apparent melancholy.
You need to come here, he told the sad image of Rebecca in his mind. It might help you feel the same way as I do now. He realised that Rebecca was never really full of sparkle. He’d heard her laugh but never in the carefree way of other young women of her age. There were things about her that reminded Alex of himself. She didn’t seem to look forward to the future; she was concerned about the future of Trevallion but more for the others who lived and worked on it than for herself. Thanks to her mother’s selfishness and father’s bitterness she hadn’t enjoyed much of her life. Alex wondered what her ambitions were. Did she want to get married? She didn’t seem to take any interest in young men, although he had noticed the way she looked at Joe Carlyon. Perhaps that was it. It was obvious that Joe saw her only as a friend, a sort of niece. Could it be she had been rebuffed once too often from that quarter?
Alex walked away from the road and made his way through the prickly gorse ablaze with bright yellow flowers. There was no pathway through the growth and it tore at his trousers and scratched his legs. He had to make a detour round a thicket of hawthorn slanting at a deep angle from the buffeting winds.
Trevallion Page 19