Behind the Light of Golowduyn (A Cornish Romance Book 1)

by Deborah M. Hathaway

  He took an abrupt step toward her. She nearly faltered in her footing, but she continued to face him squarely. Their eyes met, the light from the lamp room casting a low glow around them. She eyed the dark shadows across his face, anger flashing in his eyes.

  “I have done nothing but help you, Miss Moore,” he said. His deep voice was so penetrating that she finally heard every word. “And now you command me to leave?” His eyes darted back and forth between hers, flickering to her lips, and her breath caught in her throat. “Well you shall have your wish. You will not see me again.”

  He thrust the pail into her hands, the handle clanking loudly against the side. The sound reverberated through the room as he shook his head with disgust and strode past her.

  She listened to his angry footsteps as he stomped down the stairs until the noise disappeared. Alone with the metal gears working below, the light rotating above, and Captain Kendricks’s words swirling within her soul, Abigail was overcome with a sense of grief she could not understand.

  Chapter Five

  “But why must you leave so soon, Captain?”

  “A few matters have come up that I cannot ignore any longer.”

  Abigail listened to the conversation with bated breath. She had come down from the lamps straightaway that morning, intent on ensuring Captain Kendricks had left as he had promised. But when she had heard his voice—along with her uncle’s—drifting up the spiral staircase from the front door, she had paused on the steps higher up to listen unobserved.

  “Is it something I have done?” she heard her uncle ask.

  Guilt turned her stomach. After a restless night spent in the watch room, Abigail had come to her senses regarding her uncle, and she scolded her lack of confidence in him. Of course he would not replace her. He would never do anything to harm her in such a way.

  But the captain…she hardly knew him, did she?

  “No, you haven’t, sir,” Captain Kendricks said. “The, er, the trial I must attend has been moved to next week, and I think it would be better if I stayed near Penzance. That is all.”

  Abigail knew why he lied. If Uncle Ellis had discovered the man last night, her uncle would have turned him out just the same. Never mind that the captain had trimmed the wicks to perfection and had not spilled a single drop of oil in his endeavors—something that irked Abigail endlessly. The man had risked the safety of those men at sea, and that was something Uncle Ellis would not take likely.

  “Can you not at least wait for my niece to come down? You two have become friends, after all.”

  Abigail took a single step down, hoping to better hear the captain’s response.

  “I…I think it will be better for us all if I leave now.”

  “Very well,” Uncle Ellis finally conceded. “I am sorry to see the last of you, though. Is there any way I may convince you to join us for one last dinner this evening?”

  Dinner? Abigail did not want to make dinner for the man.

  “Perhaps we may dine at The Golden Arms?” Captain Kendricks suggested.

  “You know my niece’s cooking far surpasses anything you will eat there. No, you must come here.”

  She heard the captain sigh. “Very well. I will return for dinner this evening. But I would greatly appreciate it if you would inform Miss Moore that I will depart immediately afterward.”

  “Of course. She will be delighted to see you before you leave.”

  Captain Kendricks didn’t respond. Abigail heard the front door open. Footsteps shuffled forward.

  “Mr. Moore,” the captain said, “I must thank you for inviting me to stay with you. I’ve enjoyed every moment, the tales you’ve shared of my father, the conversations I’ve had with you and your…your niece. I will miss you both.”

  Abigail rested her hand on the railing to keep her steady, regret pressing hard against her conscience. But she should not feel regret. She should feel nothing but relief that the man was leaving.

  “You are a good man, Captain,” Uncle Ellis said. “Just like your father.”

  Silence passed for a brief moment before the captain’s voice faded as he stepped outside. “I will arrange for my trunk to be retrieved and sent to the inn. And please, do remember to tell your niece that I will depart directly after the meal tonight.”

  Abigail remained on the steps until she heard the door close. The captain’s departure had not given her the satisfaction for which she had hoped, so she sought out her uncle. His support for her decision to remove the man would help her to feel better. She was almost sure of it.

  She reached the bottom of the spiral stairs just as she caught sight of Uncle Ellis entering the sitting room. She followed him, pausing in the doorway as he sat down on a seat with a groan.

  “Abigail,” he greeted when he saw her. “You just missed Captain Kendricks. He has decided to leave us today.”

  She swallowed hard. “Yes, Uncle, I…” She faltered when she caught sight of the tears shining in his eyes. “Uncle Ellis?”

  “Forgive me, my dear.” He used his palms to swipe at his eyes. “It is silly. But his departure has upset me more than I thought it would. I cannot help but fear that my own actions have caused him to leave. Perhaps my conversation was too dull.”

  Abigail’s hands wrung together. “I’m certain that is not why he left, Uncle.”

  “Then what else could it be?”

  She hesitated, though she knew not why. After all, the captain had been in the wrong, not she. No, she could not allow her uncle to hurt further. He deserved to know the truth.

  “Uncle, I must tell you what occurred last night,” she said. “You see, I woke up to refill the lamps, only to discover that the captain had already done so himself.”

  She waited a moment, allowing her words to sink in. But Uncle Ellis looked more cheerful than anything.

  “You caught him in the very act then?” he said. “Oh, I was hoping for it to be a surprise.”

  An uneasy feeling crept up within her. “A surprise? What do you mean?”

  “Well, I thought his helping would ease your burden.”

  Her thoughts moved rapidly. She held a hand against the doorframe. “Uncle, I do not understand. Did you…did you ask the captain to refill the lamps?”

  “Indeed. Though, that was not my original intention. I had planned to do so myself, but I only made it a few steps before my knees gave way. Thankfully I had managed to set the oil aside before it could spill down the steps.”

  “Uncle Ellis, why did you not call for help?”

  “I did,” he said. “You must have slept through the noise. But it was just as well. Captain Kendricks soon came and helped me back to my room.”

  Abigail’s cheeks burned. “And then he offered to look after the lamps in your stead?”

  “Oh, heavens, no. No, I near begged him before he even considered agreeing. He did not wish to interfere, but I assured him you would be more than happy for his help.”

  Abigail felt as if she were drowning. “Uncle, was it wise to have an untrained man take on such a responsibility?”

  He stared at her, taken aback. “I imagine you were rather thorough with your explanations to him. Besides, any man who can maneuver a ship through a storm and keep so many of his men alive can certainly fill lamps with oil.”

  She looked away. How could she have been so stupid? That was what Captain Kendricks had been trying to tell her—that her uncle had asked him to help. And how could he have said no? He had no choice but to do as Uncle Ellis requested.

  “You are not pleased?” he asked. “Abigail, I did not think asking him was so very wrong. After all, I knew you would be up there soon to refill them yourself. I merely thought that you might have been able to rest longer afterwards. I am sorry if this has upset you.”

  “No, Uncle. I am simply astonished. Thank you for your kindness.”

  “Oh, you mustn’t thank me. Captain Kendricks was the one who helped. He will be here for dinner tonight.”

  Panic grip
ped her throat. She had forgotten about dinner.

  She glanced to Uncle Ellis. He deserved the truth of what had occurred last night, but the weary look in his eyes, the slight slumping forth of his body on the settee, made her pause. How could she admit to removing the only person to have made her uncle happy in months?

  Perhaps she could beg for the captain’s forgiveness, ask him to return for her uncle’s sake? At the thought, dread settled on her soul. But she pushed her selfishness aside. She had behaved foolishly, thinking they wished to end her days of running the lighthouse, when instead, they were merely trying to help. Both men deserved an explanation—and both men deserved an apology.

  “I will have dinner prepared for this evening, Uncle,” she said.

  “Thank you, Abigail.” He shifted his legs with a wince. His fall on the stairs must have hurt him again.

  “Have you seen Mr. Craig as of late?” she asked. “Perhaps I could ride for him today to request a tincture for your pain.”

  “No, I will make the journey myself on foot.”

  Abigail hesitated. “Are you certain you should walk that far?”

  “Walking is the one thing I can do.”

  His tone was bitter, but a sudden thought made her dart from the room, returning a moment later with a package in her hand. “If you insist on going yourself, they you must wear these.”

  He lifted the lid from the box to reveal a pair of new boots. “Abigail, how did you…I said I would do without a new pair to afford the captain staying with us.”

  “Yes, I know, but I had a little extra saved.” She would not tell him that she had been saving up for a pair of boots for herself. After all, her knees were fine, and she could look past the occasional pebbles that slipped through the holes in the sides of her own boots. “Try them on. I had them made from the measurements of your older ones. See if they suit.”

  He replaced his worn boots with the shining, dark brown pair. He made no response.

  Her spirits fell. “Are they not to your liking?”

  “No, they are perfect.” His gaze flitted away, but not before she caught a flash of guilt within his eyes. “You are too good to me, my dear.”

  No, she wasn’t. She was selfish and insecure—and doubted her uncle when she shouldn’t have. She sat down beside him, taking his hand in hers.

  “Uncle, I must apologize. For a great number of things, I’m afraid. But first for my poor disposition these past few days. I am glad you have had the captain here to entertain you whilst I have behaved in such a poor manner.”

  “You mustn’t apologize, Abigail.” He still didn’t meet her eyes. “I have spent so long reading books and staying in town with…with Mr. Craig that I hardly notice you of late. It has taken the example of Captain Kendricks helping you in order for me to see the duties you have taken upon yourself. All while I have merely complained about the sorry state of my legs. I am sorry to have been a disappointment to you.”

  She reached for his other hand. “Uncle, you know I have always considered you to be more my father than anything else. I will be forever grateful that you took me away from the troubled life I led to bring me to a better one here.”

  A pained expression crossed his face before he stood with the help of his cane. The shadow she had become so used to seeing covered his eyes as he walked from the room. “I will leave now to be back for dinner.”

  “Very well.”

  She waited for him to turn around to send him a departing wave, but he never did, vanishing from the house without a single glance back.

  * * *

  Hours later, Abigail peered from the dining room window, straining her neck to see farther up the path that led to the lighthouse.

  It was still empty.

  She released an exasperated sigh. She should have expected as much. Uncle Ellis’s visits with Mr. Craig always ran late. He would often return while Abigail was tending to the lamps. Still, her uncle knew Captain Kendricks was coming, and he would not risk offending the captain. What could be keeping him?

  Smell from the roasting pheasant—the last of that which she had purchased for Captain Kendricks’s stay—wafted through the room. She could not enjoy the savory scent, however, as she saw the captain riding around the ridge toward the lighthouse.

  Her throat tightened. Perhaps it was better with her uncle not there. Now she could apologize without an audience.

  She busied herself setting the table for three, but as a knock sounded, her stomach dropped. It was time. She could no longer avoid the confrontation. Slowly, she approached the front entryway. Her hand lingered on the handle as she drew an unsteady breath.

  The captain’s stoic face met hers as she finally opened the door. “Miss Moore, I trust your uncle has informed you that he has insisted upon me joining him for dinner this evening.”

  His tone was frost on her soul. “Yes, he told me.” Her cheeks burned as she took in his rigid stance, hands clasped behind his back. “Please, come in.”

  He entered but remained formally in the entryway as she closed the door behind him.

  “Would you like to wait in the sitting room?” she offered.

  He moved down the hallway in silence. Abigail followed him. She practiced her apology once more in her mind. She only needed to say it aloud now.

  “My uncle is due to return from St. Just soon. Did you happen to see him on your way here?”

  “I did not.”

  “Well, I am certain he will be here any moment.”

  She bit her lip. Her pride begged her to remain silent, but her conscience finally won over. “Captain, sir, I would like to apologize for last night. The accusations I made and my unkindness toward you were both uncalled for, and I beg your pardon.”

  She was not surprised when he turned toward her with his lips still in a firm line. “Your uncle told you then?”

  If her blush burned any hotter, she was sure flames would burst forth straight from her cheekbones. “He did.”

  “So you are aware that I was merely helping him? That I had no intention to cause any harm to you or anyone?”

  She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Yes, sir. I know you would not have touched the lamps had not my uncle greatly appealed to your mercy.”

  He hesitated only a moment before speaking. “I accept your apology, Miss Moore. And offer my own for overstepping last night.”

  “No, please. You did nothing wrong.”

  They stood in silence, and Abigail—though happy to have the man’s forgiveness—felt no relief. After all, the words she had said to him last night could not be so easily reversed.

  “You said Mr. Moore was in St. Just?”

  She wondered if the captain was as anxious as she was to change the subject. “Yes, visiting the apothecary. He really should have returned by now. He does not like to walk far in the rain.”

  She crossed the room, eying the darkening clouds from the window. She had already lit the lamps in preparation for that evening’s storm.

  “Perhaps I ought to ride out,” Captain Kendricks said. “See if I can find him before he is caught in the storm alone.”

  She cursed her behavior again, her wrongful assumption that the gentleman was anything other than sheer goodness and generosity. She hardly deserved his offer of help, but she accepted it with gratitude, for her uncle’s sake.

  The captain departed straightaway, and Abigail watched him ride across the cliffside astride his dark horse until he was out of her sight. Her uncle must have simply lost track of the hour. Captain Kendricks would return soon with Uncle Ellis beside him, she was certain.

  And yet, the uneasiness within her only increased as time passed.

  She covered the food to keep the meal warm, then proceeded to pace through the house. Still, there was no sign of either of them. She began to wonder if Uncle Ellis had taken the longer route home that edged close to the sea. It would certainly take him longer. But would the captain think to go that way?

  “I will
only go out for a moment,” she told herself. “Just to be sure Uncle isn’t missed.”

  She wrapped her shawl around her and ventured forth into the rain that was just beginning to fall. She looked back at the light shining through the storm as she hastened across the cliffside. She should not be leaving the lighthouse at all, but the thought of her uncle being caught in the storm with his knees in such a state spurred her forward.

  The wind blew hard against her, tearing the hair from her pins and whipping strands across her brow. The mist from the storm blocked most of her view of the ocean—only the dark gray water near the sand was visible.

  She raised a hand to her brow, blocking the wind and rain from her eyes as she strained to see farther south. Still, no sign of her uncle.

  She stared at the peninsula pushing out into the ocean, her eyes inevitably falling to the bottom of the cliffs she could see. Just as a precaution, of course.

  As her search along the bottom of each cliffside came up empty, any relief she may have felt was short-lived, for she looked to the next ridge, and the next. Would her uncle be at the foot of any of those cliffs?

  She glanced over her shoulder. Golowduyn’s light still shone, despite the clouds hovering around the tower. She should not have strayed so far. Turning on her heel, she made straight for home. Perhaps the captain and Uncle Ellis were both at Mr. Craig’s, waiting out the storm. And then Captain Kendricks would see her uncle safely home.

  She repeated the hollow words in her mind, willing herself to believe them. But when she came upon another cliff, forcing herself to look down, to search for what she did not wish to find, her breathing stopped.

  “No. No, it is not him.”

  She ran along the peninsula in a daze, racing to the mainland. Her eyes focused on the dark form crumpled in the sand below until the cliffside prevented her view.

  “Uncle!”

  The powerful waves below drowned out her cries as she ran down the curved pathway leading to the beach. She wiped the moisture from her eyes. The lifeless form took shape as she neared it. His cane lay a few paces away. And his new boots were scuffed and covered with sand.