Pengarron Land

by Pengarron Land (retail) (epub)

  ‘Um… not really. But they soon give up when they realise he’s not at all interested.’ William became embarrassed. Kerensa smiled at him and he squeezed her hand. ‘Well, I’d better be off and get on with some work… plenty to do.’ Kissing Rachael, then his son, he was relieved to be able to leave the room. ‘I’ll be up to see you after supper, dear,’ he said as he closed the door.

  Rachael turned to the nurse. ‘It’s all right if you leave us, now, Nurse. Lady Pengarron will call for you if you’re needed.’

  The nurse sniffed her disapproval before reluctantly leaving the bedroom again.

  ‘Anyone would think I’ve not had a baby before and knew nothing about them,’ Rachael remarked, ‘but I suppose she means well, poor old sourpuss.’

  ‘If he were mine, I wouldn’t let anyone else look after him,’ said Kerensa, almost fiercely, cuddling the sleeping baby closer to her body.

  Watching the girl closely, Rachael said, ‘I suppose you will be hoping to give Oliver a child fairly soon?’

  ‘Yes,’ Kerensa answered quietly, ‘Oliver talks about it from time to time.’

  ‘And you? Do you want children, Kerensa?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I just wish something would happen.’

  ‘Give it a little more time, my dear,’ Rachael said soothingly. ‘You’ve only been married a few months.’ She leaned forward and touched Kerensa’s arm. ‘Do you miss Oliver?’

  She looked defensive. ‘I suppose so.’ She was glad to be getting on well with the Beswethericks, especially Rachael. It was good to be on friendly terms with some of Oliver’s friends, would give her someone to talk to at any social events he took her to. But would it be wise to confide in Rachael, could she be trusted? She might pass on to Oliver any confidences she was told.

  ‘You’ve hardly mentioned his name since you’ve been here and you look so sad when you think no one is looking at you,’ Rachael said, sounding concerned. ‘Oliver’s not cruel or demanding to you, is he?’

  ‘No, it’s nothing like that, Rachael. It’s just that, that…’

  ‘He’s impatient, stubborn, childish and self-centred?’

  It brought a smile to Kerensa’s face, ‘Yes, no… well, he’s not as bad as that.’

  ‘What is it then? Don’t you want to talk about it? Or am I seeing something that doesn’t exist?’

  For a few moments Kerensa thought about telling Rachael of her suspicion about Bartholomew Drannock and the strain it had caused in her relationship with Oliver. She wanted to live peaceably with him, she was his wife and that fact would never change. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life living in a situation fraught with bad feeling. Rachael had a successful marriage, she was an experienced mother, her advice might be invaluable; she might say the very thing to help her put Kerensa’s feelings into perspective and point a way to a brighter future. The baby stirred in her arms and she decided against speaking out.

  ‘I’m just finding it hard to adjust to my new life, that’s all. The baby is lovely, have you chosen a name for him yet?’

  Rachael stayed quiet for a moment, studying Kerensa, then said, ‘If you ever want to talk, Kerensa, you’ll find I have a willing ear.’ Then she added straightaway, ‘He’s to be baptised Sebastian Pawly Richard James. Quite a mouthful, isn’t it? We’ve sent word to Oliver, by the way, and invited him over for the baptism in the family chapel next week.’

  Kerensa was surprised to find that the thought of seeing him was not unwelcome to her. Perhaps by then the time apart would have diminished some of their ill-humour towards each other, and if he was in a sympathetic mood perhaps she could find the courage to confront him about the Drannock boy and they could resolve the matter in some way.

  ‘Will he come, do you think?’

  ‘Oh, yes, he is godfather to all our boys. Takes it all very seriously too and shows great interest in them all. Martin is particularly fond of Oliver, believes him to be quite a hero and follows him about everywhere when he comes to stay with us. Come to think of it, he hasn’t stayed overnight for several months. The last time he was here was a few hours on last Christmas Day. Old Marty ended up roaring drunk, the poor dear. Funny, though,’ Rachael said, pursing her lips, ‘Oliver seems to drink a lot but I can’t ever recall seeing him in his cups. Have you?’

  ‘No,’ Kerensa said. ‘But all that alcohol can’t be doing him any good.’ She looked at the baby again. ‘Sebastian’s gone to sleep.’

  ‘So you do worry about him?’ Rachael watched for a reaction to her remark.

  ‘Sebastian?’

  ‘Now, you know I meant Oliver. I’d like to ask you something, Kerensa, but I don’t want to upset you.’

  ‘What is it?’ the girl asked quietly.

  ‘You were going to marry someone else, weren’t you… a farm labourer or something?’

  ‘You’re talking of Clem, Clem Trenchard. His father is one of Oliver’s tenant farmers.’

  ‘Did you love this Clem, Kerensa? Do you still love him?’

  With downcast eyes she answered, ‘Yes. I feel so bad about losing him and hurting him, Rachael. Clem is kind and gentle and considerate, he’s very handsome too, but now he looks so lost and helpless. I’m sure we would have been very happy together.’

  Rachael reached out her hand and turned Kerensa to face her.

  ‘It is a shame about that, my dear, but no one should live in the past. I wanted to marry an attractive young curate I met in London before it was arranged for me to marry William. I suffered agonies at the time, like you are now, but I quickly grew to like William and I have been content over the years. I have to say, Kerensa,’ Rachael said seriously, ‘you do not sound to me as if you have an all consuming love for this farmer’s son. You are probably feeling guilty more than anything.’

  ‘Now I’m more confused than ever!’ Kerensa sighed in exasperation.

  Rachael smiled as one who knew best. ‘There is a lot of good in Oliver if you take the time to look for it, it’s your duty as his wife to do so, and I believe you are not totally unhappy with him.’

  ‘Now you sound like the Reverend Ivey, Rachael.’ Kerensa smiled. ‘He has a great liking for Oliver and often talks to me about his good points.’

  ‘Well, there you are, my dear. If a man of God can see the good in him, it can’t be far below the surface, can it?’

  As Kerensa changed back into the simple brown dress before rejoining Elwyn Trethowan in the garden, a jumble of impressions vied with each other for the dominant place in her mind. One was Clem’s face, sullen and heartbroken, one Oliver’s proud and impatient, yet kindly. The other was Bartholomew Drannock.

  A long shadow fell over Kerensa as she struggled to tie back a straggling hydrangea bush.

  ‘I can’t quite manage this one, Elwyn,’ she gasped, panting in her efforts.

  ‘Try tying the knot other than at the back of the bush.’

  She jerked her head around at the unexpected voice. ‘Oliver!’

  ‘Rachael seems to have turned you into a grubby little urchin,’ he said drolly.

  A light tingling sensation made its way quickly through her. She had left the Manor under the cloud of her suspicions and his ill-humour, but it was good to see him again. To look up at his dark face, to gaze back into his dazzling eyes and know, without feeling any shyness, that he desired her.

  Kerensa took the hands he offered to help her to her feet, feeling their warm roughness as he held on to hers. Oliver looked on his wife with pleasure. She had bloomed during her absence from him. Her cheeks were tinged a warm pink, her eyes sparkled more than before, and he wanted to linger over her full red mouth.

  ‘I enjoy working out here,’ she said simply.

  ‘Mmmm… you look well enough on it.’ He looked down at her plain dress. ‘Were you not expecting me?’

  ‘Yes, but not until later tonight.’

  ‘Well, now that I’m here, you can show me William’s latest brat.’

  Kerensa became animated as
she talked about the baby. ‘Oh, Sebastian is lovely, he doesn’t cry very much and has such soft fluffy hair. Rachael lets me hold him any time I want to. She’s been up and out of bed for days, much to the annoyance of her nurse.’

  Oliver took her arm and tucked it inside his as they walked to the house, only half-listening as she chattered on about the Beswetherick children and how excited young Martin was at the prospect of going trout fishing with his godfather. Then she was eager to know how the people at the Manor were.

  ‘How’s Alice? Is she any better? And Jack, how’s…’

  He stopped walking and held her firmly by the shoulders.

  ‘I’ll tell you about everyone later. I would like to know how you are, Kerensa. Are you still in the ill-humour you were in when you left the Manor?’

  She flushed but did not move away from him.

  ‘Did you miss me at all?’ he asked sincerely.

  ‘Yes,’ she said very softly. ‘I’ve missed you, Oliver.’

  He leaned forward and took her face in both hands and brushed her lips with his. She made no attempt to escape from him so he gathered her in close and kissed her with some of the passion that had been growing steadily inside him for her since she had gone away.

  Kerensa slid her arms inside his coat and clasped her hands behind his back. When Oliver raised his face from hers she buried her cheek against his chest. Stroking her hair with gentle fingers, he kissed the top of her head and rested the side of his face against it.

  Watching them from an upstairs window, Rachael Beswetherick nodded and smiled to herself.

  * * *

  ‘Now what are you doing?’ he demanded impatiently from the bed.

  ‘Picking up your clothes. You’re not at home, Oliver.’ Kerensa gathered them up and folded them neatly over the back of a chair.

  ‘Never mind all that. Get into bed, will you? As it was I thought that woman was never going to finish with you.’

  Kerensa looked at him squarely. ‘Rantings and ravings,’ she said, reminded of what Jake Angove had said about him; and Beatrice: ‘Tempers ’n’ tantrums.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘You should learn to be more patient, Oliver. If I was a long time with Polly, it’s because she likes to be thorough.’

  ‘Are you deliberately being difficult, girl? Perhaps I should get out of here and drag you into this bed.’

  ‘If I’m being difficult maybe it’s because I’ve had a good teacher in you,’ she returned pertly, ‘but I’m coming now.’

  She blew out all the candles but the ones in a triple sconce on Oliver’s side and climbed into bed beside him. ‘I thought you were going to stay down and talk with William,’ she told him, as he pulled her against his bare chest.

  ‘I don’t recall that I was,’ he said moodily, ‘and I’m not sure I approve of this new you. Has Rachael been encouraging you to be rebellious towards me?’

  Kerensa pulled away a little from him and looked him in the face. ‘Are you cross with me then?’

  ‘No,’ he laughed. ‘It’s good to see you gaining in confidence.’ He kissed her neck then added in mock threat, ‘But don’t let it get out of hand or…’

  ‘Or what?’ she whispered.

  ‘Oh, I’ll think of something,’ he said, untying the ribbons down the front of her nightgown.

  Kerensa held his hands still. ‘You were going to tell me about Alice and the others,’ she teased him.

  ‘Not now,’ he said, roughly pulling the nightgown off her shoulders, ‘not now…’

  He had spent one of the most trying days of his life. The four-mile ride over to Tolwithrick had seemed much longer than it usually did that morning. The time spent with the new baby and his older brothers and sisters had been a torment to him. Even the hours he’d spent fishing for trout with young Martin in the nearby Withy river, because Rachael had insisted on Kerensa joining her for the afternoon, had dragged interminably, instead of proving as enjoyable as they normally would have been. He felt as though a worm was relentlessly chewing into his gut with every hour he endured, longing to be alone with his young wife.

  Promptly at four o’clock, with William and Rachael, they’d eaten a plentiful dinner of goose and roasted lobster, plum pudding, jellies and custard. Oliver had hoped Rachael would lie down for a rest before supper when it would have been easy enough to suggest to William that he might like to take himself off to his study for an hour or so. But Rachael, starved of society for too long at the end of her pregnancy, kept them all occupied with gossip and the playing of the harpsichord, while each of them were required to take a turn at singing to its accompaniment. Kerensa’s voice was sweet and clear, but he had only wanted to take her in his arms.

  Tea was brought in at eight o’clock and Rachael had poured out several rounds with irritating ceremony, her gossip persisting until almost eleven. Oliver had very nearly loudly exhaled the sigh of relief he felt inside when she announced that she must retire to bed if she was to look her best for the baptism the next morning. Kerensa retired with her, William kissing them both and Oliver following suit before the ladies left the room.

  ‘Father will be arriving with Judith early tomorrow,’ William said, ‘he’ll be delighted to see Kerensa here. Will you join me in a glass of cognac, Oliver?’

  ‘I’ll have one, thank you, but very quickly,’ he’d answered.

  ‘You sound as if you’re going somewhere in a hurry.’

  ‘While I’d like to stay and chat with you, William, right now my wife will make better company.’

  ‘I thought she might,’ William grinned across the room.

  Now at last Oliver was relaxed. Kerensa had loved him with all the responsiveness and affection he could have wished for. It had been a long lonely two weeks. His home had been empty without her, even worse than before their marriage when there had been no reason to go home at all. Even if she made him suffer with more of the inexplicable moods like the one she had been in when she came here, or became a terrible nag, or even bad-tempered to the point of screaming abuse at him, he would not mind too much. Kerensa at home in any circumstances was better than no Kerensa at all.

  Kerensa stroked Oliver’s hair, while still floating on an aftermath of silken waves from their passion. She had been as impatient for these moments as Oliver had been, and had found it harder to wait, much too shy to reveal her eagerness to be in the arms of her handsome sensual husband again. It had been lonely here before, lying in this enormous bed without him close to her. He had been different this time. He had wanted her not just because it was his right to take her but for herself, for who she was. If Oliver accepted her as a person in her own right and not just an appendage who was expected to obey his every whim, she might just be able to ask him about Bartholomew Drannock.

  A small pang inside warned her that it might cause his mood to swing sharply again and ruin the wonderful intimacy they shared. What if he knew about the boy and could not care less about him? And if the boy turned out to be Samuel Drannock’s son in the end, what would Oliver think of her for believing him to be the boy’s father and abandoning him and his mother?

  ‘You’re quiet, my love,’ he said dreamily.

  She took a breath. ‘Oliver?’

  ‘Yes.’

  At the last moment she decided the question of Bartholomew Drannock would be better left alone, at least for a short while, to see if she could live with the knowledge without resenting Oliver. She might even end up opening a can of worms – perhaps he didn’t realise he was the boy’s father, if he was, and Jenifer was passing off Samuel Drannock in his role. Instead she said, ‘You were going to tell me about Alice and the others, remember?’

  He moved to look down on her, his face serious. Kerensa smoothed the network of tiny fine lines gathered at the corners of his dark eyes.

  ‘Is something wrong at home?’ she asked. ‘The rest of the servants are well,’ he told her, ‘but Alice has left the Manor and has gone home for the time being.’<
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  ‘But why? Has someone upset her?’

  ‘The girl is getting married, Kerensa. She’s pregnant.’

  She could not hide her shock. Oliver had to move aside so she could sit up, swallowing hard as she murmured, ‘To Clem… is it Clem?’

  ‘Yes. I made sure he’ll do the honourable thing by her. His parents are relieved in a way, I think, and his grandmother told me that with a wife to come home to, and a child on the way, perhaps the boy will pull himself together at last.’

  ‘I hope they will get on all right with each other,’ Kerensa said doubtfully.

  ‘Why? Is there a reason that they should not?’ he asked, a trifle sharply.

  ‘Well…’

  ‘Well, what?’ Oliver’s tone was much harsher now, and the warm pleasant feeling inside Kerensa was beginning to subside. It was a good thing she had not mentioned the Drannock boy if he could become bad-tempered and suspicious so easily.

  ‘It’s just that when I used to go to the Bible classes with Clem, Alice used to hang about us a lot and he would get quite annoyed,’ she explained. ‘He thought her rather childish and once said a bal-maiden would never make a farmer’s wife. She used to hang about Henry Sampson too, you see, and he’s reckoned to be a good catch, being the next in line for Polcudden Farm.’

  ‘Well, Trenchard will have to make her a farmer’s wife now, won’t he? If he didn’t want to take a chance on it he shouldn’t have rolled her in the hay in the first place. As for Henry Sampson, that poor soul won’t be taking any maid to wife.’

  Kerensa flinched at the outburst. ‘Why? Has something happened to Henry Sampson?’ she demanded, dreading the answer.

  When he confirmed her fears, tears sprang to Kerensa’s eyes and she turned her head away. Oliver was angry with himself for hurting her, and the memory of Alice’s fears served to make him feel worse.

  ‘I’m sorry, my love,’ he said contritely, ‘I didn’t mean to sound so cruel.’

  She turned back, wiping her tears away crossly with the side of her head, then jabbed a finger at the fading bruises on his body and the cut healing on his lip.