Pengarron Land

by Pengarron Land (retail) (epub)

  As he ate Clem rubbed his leg above the knee, the flesh tender where he’d been pitched forward on to the plough when it had jarred, with a terrific shudder, against a huge hidden outcrop of granite. When the pasty was eaten they shared cold water from a flask. Charity searched her master’s coat for any overlooked pasty crumbs while Clem, deep in thought about Kerensa, with eyes closed, idly squeezed a handful of wet gravelly soil.

  A good-looking youth of nineteen, with every maid in the district having an eye on him, Clem had quickly learnt from childhood how to exploit and replenish the land. His tall lean body had been made tough and agile by constant hard work. With his fine silky blond hair, clear blue eyes, and the knowledge he would have his father’s tenancy one day, he was one of the most sought after bachelors in the district. But much to the disappointment of the rest of the female population Clem had a mind and eye only for Kerensa Trelynne.

  He was roused from his pleasant daydream when Charity became alert, her body tense, ears pricked back. ‘What is it, girl?’ he said, looking around.

  A short time later a rider appeared at the top of the field. Locating Clem with his dog, he rode swiftly down to them, his horse’s hooves throwing up clods of earth. It was Nathan O’Flynn on Derowen.

  ‘So there you are Clem,’ the Irishman said, his face serious. ‘I’ve been looking about for you this past hour. I’ve got something to tell you and you’re not going to like it, that you’re not.’ Nat sat down beside Clem and handed the puzzled youth one of the bottles of ale he’d brought with him.

  ‘Thanks, Nat,’ said Clem. ‘Father wouldn’t approve but I’ll be glad to take a few drops with you. So… what’s this news I’m not going to like, then?’

  Charity deserted Clem to make a big fuss of Nat in the hope he had brought with him something to eat. Nat waited for Clem to take a long swig from his bottle before going on with his news. Clem watched in amused curiosity as the other man’s drawn features pulled his eyebrows together in one long straight line like a hairy caterpillar. Charity abandoned Nat as soon as it became apparent her hopes of getting a titbit were fruitless.

  When she’d settled down again over Clem’s boots, Nat said, ‘It’s Kerensa I’ve come about, Clem.’

  He was instantly concerned. ‘There’s nothing wrong, is there? I only saw her last evening.’

  Nat looked his young friend full in the face. ‘The only way I can tell you is just to say it to you outright. Clem, there was talk in the marketplace today that Kerensa is going to marry Sir Oliver.’

  ‘What? You must be mad, Nat! How can you say such a thing?’ At first Clem’s face paled. Now it was deeply flushed with anger.

  ‘I wish it was mad I am, Clem, but I fear it may be true. I came out to find you myself, before you heard it from the village gossips.’

  Springing to his feet Clem sent Charity rolling several feet away, knocking over his bottle to smash on the stones at his feet.

  ‘But why!’ he cried. ‘I don’t understand. Why should she? What on earth is going on, Nat?’

  ‘I don’t know for sure, Clem. It seems to have something to do with Old Tom’s cove. I’ve known for some time that Sir Oliver’s been looking for another place to land contraband and Trelynne Cove would be ideal, but it can’t be done easily with that old rascal about. I do know that first thing this morning his lordship turned up at the stableyard with his face as black as thunder. He sent young Jack off to Perranbarvah to fetch the Reverend Ivey up to the Manor and apparently old Beatrice overheard some of their conversation. Well, later Adam Renfree comes across Beatrice roaring drunk in Marazion and he was too late to have stopped her from babbling to all and sundry about what she’d heard. It seems Old Tom would only agree to sell the cove to Sir Oliver on condition he makes Kerensa his wife.’

  Clem felt unreal, numb. He could see Nat. He knew he was standing there in front of him in the field, in the rain that had now turned into a steady downpour, but he felt as though he was in a dream. A terrible, mocking dream. Back on her feet, Charity licked his hand. He didn’t expect to feel the warm, rough wetness and was surprised he did.

  ‘Clem—’

  He was further surprised that when he spoke his voice actually made a sound, that it could be heard. ‘I’ve got to see her, Nat. I won’t believe Kerensa is going to marry anyone else, let alone that man, unless she tells me herself. You may have got this all wrong anyway, if as you say Beatrice was drunk.’

  ‘I only hope you are right,’ Nat said, standing up and putting a hand on the young man’s shoulder, ‘but Beatrice is well known for her sharp mind, even when drunk.’

  Clem’s blue eyes were wide and fierce. ‘Even if what you say is true, I won’t let Kerensa marry that arrogant devil. No one can force her to and I won’t let them!’

  ‘Be careful, Clem,’ Nat reasoned with him. ‘Once Sir Oliver has his mind set on something, he won’t be easily shaken.’

  ‘Thanks for taking the trouble to come and tell me, Nat.’ Clem pulled his collar tight about his neck and grimaced up at the sky. ‘Come on, girl,’ he called to the young bitch.

  When he reached the old horse Clem unhitched it from the plough and urged the animal over the cloying mud, Charity running and leaping at their side.

  Nat drained his bottle and pushed it down into his coat pocket. He shook his head as he mounted Derowen then pulled his cap down over his eyes against the rain. Following the path Clem had taken up the field he could just make out the youth’s fair hair as he rode in the direction of Trelynne Cove.

  Chapter 2

  For the first time in her life Kerensa was truly alone. Unable to face the hurt and betrayal in her face, Old Tom had packed his meagre belongings in an old sack, and a few hours after Sir Oliver’s visit the grizzled old man had left Trelynne Cove. He would only tell Kerensa he was not going far away and would be watching over her until he’d witnessed her wedding. After that he intended to get a berth on a ship and sail away to a new life; once settled, he would send word so she would know he was safe and well. Kerensa did not believe him. She thought it more likely her grandfather would waste all the money he was to collect from Sir Oliver on gambling and cheap gin, thereby making the agreement that was to break her heart all for nothing.

  Fearing trouble from one of his debtors, Old Tom begged Kerensa to leave the cove and ask for a night’s lodgings at the home of one of her Methodist friends. She had adamantly refused to leave her home, especially if this was the last night she was to live there, and maintained her intention to stay even if it meant being alone.

  Kerensa stood in the rain and watched her grandfather trudge up the winding path to the top of the cliff. Tears caught in her throat as she lifted a heavy hand to wave goodbye to him, then despondently she went back into the cottage, shivering in her wet clothes. Taking off her dress she hung it to dry over a line strung up close to the fireplace, then placed her shoes in the hearth. All her actions were automatic, from throwing a log on the fire, putting on a dry dress – the only other one she owned – to clearing away the unused breakfast dishes. The cottage seemed so empty.

  Old Tom had left his pipe behind. It lay forlornly on the corner of the table, forgotten in his haste to go. Kerensa touched its grimy bowl with a fingertip. It was hard to believe her grandfather was responsible for wrecking her plans for the future. He had always been kind and caring. She couldn’t remember much about her parents, only that her mother who had been quiet, gentle and always smiling, had died six months after her father; he dying of typhus in some foreign port. Of him Kerensa could only recall that he’d been loud-voiced and sullen. Since then Old Tom had taken good care of her and she had never lacked life’s necessities.

  He had offered no resistance to her friendship and growing romance with Clem. He’d known that although she had enjoyed her life in the cove, in the latter years she had been lonely and was looking forward with joyful anticipation to family life on Trecath-en Farm. How could he wish her to live her life without Clem, knowin
g she loved him so much? To spend her life with a man much older than herself and renowned for his bad character and single-mindedness in getting his own way. She would be forced into a totally different way of life, have to mix with a class who usually despised her own; moreover some of the gentry with whom Sir Oliver Pengarron associated were as unsavoury in their own way as the people her grandfather mixed with.

  She sought refuge in her bedroom, sat shivering in the cold on her bed. But here there were too many poignant reminders of Clem. A lock of his fair hair, tied with ribbon and wrapped in a neckerchief of his, lay under her pillow. There was a picture on the wall made of dried pressed primroses, milkmaids and pink campions he had gathered for her.

  She went back to the other room but soon could bear to be inside the little cob-walled cottage no longer. The familiar things that were so much a part of her life seemed to crowd in on her, the atmosphere becoming more and more claustrophobic. She could not think straight and needed to clear her muddled mind as to what to do about Sir Oliver and what to say to Clem. Throwing her shawl over her shoulders, she stepped back into her shoes and went outside into the rain.

  She walked up and down the beach until her legs grew weary then sat on a large flat rock near the shoreline, pulling her shawl in tighter to keep out the wet and chill. Wistfully she looked out to sea, but drew no comfort from its familiar sights, smells and sounds. Even the waves seemed to move dejectedly on their passage up the shore, each one bidding her a mournful salute.

  She had sat on this rock many, many times. With Old Tom who had told her fanciful tales of smugglers and pirates. To reflect and seek comfort on the awesome wonderful journey she knew nothing of as she grew from girl to woman. Here, she and Clem had shared their first shy kiss. She had never before sat here with her heart breaking as it did now.

  Gulls that nested up high in the cliffs were circling overhead, screeching, and Kerensa took a fancy they were mocking her. It wouldn’t have surprised her to see Mother Clarry, perched up on her seat, maliciously gloating over her fate. She was cold and wet but did not feel the wind or rain.

  Clem found her standing on the shoreline, the icy water soaking her shoes and the hem of her dress, and she seeming neither to notice nor care. She looked lost, forlorn, her expression one of bewilderment as he ran towards her. He took her into his arms at once, holding her close, but her body was tense and unyielding.

  She said: ‘I knew you would come.’

  ‘What’s going on, Kerensa?’ he asked earnestly. ‘Nathan O’Flynn sought me out in the fields to tell me you’re going to marry Sir Oliver. Tell me it’s not true.’ He took hold of her face and searched her eyes for his answer.

  ‘It is true, Clem,’ she told him miserably. ‘I’m afraid I have no choice in the matter.’

  He shuddered at her words and gripped her tightly by the shoulders. ‘You do have a choice, my love, to marry me and not that man. I don’t understand how this could have happened.’

  ‘My grandfather made an agreement with Sir Oliver.’

  ‘But they couldn’t possibly hold you to such a thing!’ he exploded, shaking her as if to make her see sense. ‘It was none of your doing.’

  Kerensa pulled away from him, and reluctantly Clem let her go. ‘We can’t talk out here in the rain,’ he said. ‘Let’s go inside and get ourselves warm and dry.’

  Taking her by the arm, Clem led Kerensa into the cottage. Once inside he threw logs on the fire to build up a comforting blaze while she half-filled a battered kettle with water, hanging it on the hook over the flames to boil for tea. Neither spoke, but stared into the cavorting orange-red flames until the kettle began to sing. It acted like a signal to Clem, as though he had suddenly become aware of his surroundings.

  ‘You’re shivering, my little sweet,’ he said, and feeling he must take charge of the situation, added, ‘You go and change out of that dress and I’ll make the tea. Then you can tell me exactly what happened this morning.’

  The dress Kerensa had taken off earlier was almost dry. ‘I won’t be very long,’ she said, pulling it off the line and going into her bedroom.

  When she returned Clem was sitting at the table with two mugs of steaming hot tea in front of him. Kerensa gave him a brave smile as he got up to help her put her wet dress up on the line next to his dripping jacket. She put her shoes in the hearth once more, beside the boots Clem had placed there. She sighed at the thought of how the clothes hanging together on the line, and the shoes and boots standing side by side in the hearth, looked for all the world like things shared in the comfortable intimacy of marriage.

  ‘Come and drink your tea,’ he said gently. ‘Old Tom been doing a bit of freetrading, has he? When I looked in the cupboard to find you something to eat I noticed quite a few suspect packages in there.’

  Kerensa nodded. ‘The whole neighbourhood’s flooded with tea, so I’ve heard. Everybody has tea., coffee and spices, and brandy in plenty since… since Sir Oliver’s last contraband run.’

  Pulling a chair closer to the fire Kerensa sat down and sipped her tea, the hot liquid spreading a welcoming warmth inside her, but otherwise her spirits could not be lifted.

  ‘Don’t worry, my love,’ Clem tried to reassure her. He crouched down in front of her, lightly resting his arms on her lap, and gave her the boyish grin she liked so much in him. ‘We’ll think of a way out of this somehow.’

  ‘I only hope we can,’ she murmured. Kerensa relinquished her grip on her mug to push fine strands of fair hair away from Clem’s eyes. Haltingly, she told him the details of the agreement made over the cove that morning and how she had come to be involved in it.

  In turn he told her how Nathan O’Flynn had heard about it from Adam Renfree, the Pengarron Estate’s home farm steward. Kerensa shuddered as she pictured Sir Oliver’s drunken servant broadcasting the news to all who cared to listen; she could only hope Adam Renfree had quickly removed Beatrice from Marazion’s busy marketplace.

  ‘I’m so afraid, Clem. I can see no way out of this. I’ve gone over and over it in my mind. What can we do? My grandfather is my legal guardian and I’m honour bound to comply with his wishes. Then there’s his safety to consider. But most of all there’s the fact that if Sir Oliver wants anything, he will be determined to have his own way.’

  ‘I don’t care what Sir Oliver says or does!’ Clem said vehemently. ‘I’m going up to the Manor house to tell him you aren’t going to marry him.’

  Alarm spread across Kerensa’s face. ‘Please don’t, Clem. You know what he’s like. It may only serve to make things worse than they are already. Sir Oliver is not the kind of man you can just go up and tell things to.’

  ‘But you can’t go through with it, Kerensa. They can’t make you, and I won’t let them!’

  ‘It’s not as simple as that, Clem. I only wish it was.’

  In agony he reached for her small soft hands and kissed her chilled fingers, keeping his eyes on her lovely troubled face.

  ‘We could go away together,’ he said, appealing to her.

  ‘But what would become of my grandfather? And your family too for that matter, Clem? They might be evicted from Trecath-en Farm.’

  ‘Sir Oliver would never throw my family off the farm. He’s always been pleased with my father’s work since he took over Trecath-en.’

  ‘We can’t be sure of that. No one’s ever crossed that proud man and got away with it lightly before.’

  ‘But it’s me you’ll be going away with,’ he argued. ‘Sir Oliver will know my parents wouldn’t approve. It’s me he would be angry with, not them. And as for your grandfather, I know you love the old boy, Kerensa, but he’s asked for any trouble that comes his way. Where is Old Tom?’

  He followed Kerensa’s gaze as she looked sadly across the room to the wide bench on which lay the rolled up mattress and blankets where her grandfather usually slept.

  ‘He’s gone,’ she said, very quietly.

  ‘Gone where?’

  ‘He wouldn’
t say, only that it won’t be far away and he’ll be watching over me. He’s collecting his hundred guineas from Painted Bessie’s tonight.’

  Clem huffed. ‘I’d like to meet him outside that kiddleywink and wring his ruddy neck for doing this to us!’ He immediately regretted his outburst at Kerensa’s pained reaction. He said, more soothingly, ‘You mean he’s left the cove for good?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said miserably. ‘Packed up and gone.’

  Clem raised himself and wrapped her in his arms. He kissed her cheeks softly. ‘You shouldn’t stay here alone, my little sweet,’ he said. ‘Pack some things together and come back to the farm with me. You can sleep with Gran and Rosie. The family will be glad for you to stay.’

  ‘No, Clem,’ Kerensa returned, with sudden firmness. She freed herself from his arms and rose to stand and stare at the fire. ‘Sir Oliver is sending someone here to collect me tomorrow, and here I must stay. He won’t like it if I’m not here and we must do nothing to antagonise him.’

  ‘I can hardly believe this is happening,’ said Clem, coming to stand behind her. ‘I was only thinking this morning that it won’t take me much longer to finish building the lean-to for us to live in, and now…’ He spread his hands helplessly, then easing Kerensa round to face him, enclosed her in his strong arms.

  She snuggled her cheek against his rough working shirt. He caressed her hair, winding tendrils of it round his fingers. They stayed quiet for several minutes, trying to shut out the world and the terrible thing looming over them.

  Then Kerensa said in a whisper of a voice, ‘Perhaps if we don’t make a fuss, Clem, then maybe Sir Oliver will not insist on going through with this marriage.’

  ‘Dear God, Kerensa, I hope you’re right, but the one thing I am sure of is that I’m not going to give you up. Not ever. No matter what happens. I love you too much.’