‘Like looking for a four-leafed clover?’
‘Oh, it’s nothing like that, that’s only superstition. Finding the Cross, which represents the Lord’s suffering and victory, means such a lot more if you’re a believer.’ In wonder Rosina touched the pendant with a fingertip, the white crystals standing out against the black granite as clearly as her gentle disposition contrasted to her brother’s cruelty. ‘Will you put it on for me, please, Peter?’
Smiling, he took the pendant from its silk bed, and lifting her hair to the side where it fell over his arm, joined the clasp at the back of her neck.
‘There you are,’ he said, ‘you’ll be lucky from now on.’
‘That’s supposed to be for the one who finds the Cross in the rocks,’ she said, laughing. Her face became serious and he looked curiously at her. ‘I don’t need luck, Peter,’ she whispered. ‘God has given me you.’
Her words overwhelmed him. ‘Oh, Rosina,’ he said, his low voice husky. He reached for her, then checked himself.
‘It’s all right,’ she reassured him.
‘I’m almost afraid to kiss you.’
She brought her delicate, gentle face in very close to his. ‘We don’t have to be afraid of anything.’
She closed her eyes. Blake placed a hand either side of her face and lightly touched her lips with his. When he moved his head slightly back, her eyes were still closed. He kissed her again, this time more firmly, his soul singing out at her tender response. When their lips parted she rested across his lap… and gradually drifted off to sleep.
Blake stroked her hair, marvelling at the way just knowing Rosina had changed his life. Before, any young female crossing his path had meant only sexual gratification, or the hope of it, to him; falling in love no more than a myth. He had not believed he could find so much love, trust and absolute faith in someone who suffered so much, someone who cared for others more than herself.
No one had ever cared for him except for his half-sister who had treated him from infancy as much as an amusing plaything as a brother she loved. She had been the main influence in his life, and she was a selfish, money-grabbing, shameless woman who indulged in a wild social life with the most unsavoury kind of people. She cared nothing for her servants or the poor of the parish, saying life was mainly what you managed to snatch away from others and who you could keep down. It had taken Rosina’s purity and honesty for him to see there was another side of life, a better way to live. Rosina knew all about his sordid past, he had told her, and she had been willing to give him a chance to prove he could act like a man of honour, believing there was some decency in him.
As he held her gently against him insects buzzed in the heavy warm air and Blake allowed himself too to be lulled into a peaceful sleep.
He woke when Rosina sprang up in a panic.
‘I must go!’ she cried. ‘Before Colly gets home!’
‘No, Rosina!’ Blake took hold of her. ‘You can’t go back there again.’
‘I have to. Colly needs me. Let go of me, Peter, please let me go!’
‘I need you too, Rosina. I love you. In the time you’ve known me, I’ve never tried to restrain you or do anything that might upset or offend you, but I’m taking you to my sister’s home today… by force if I have to.’
He was right, he had never once said or done anything to suggest he was the same man who had once attempted to force himself on another girl. The light in his blue eyes showed a determination to protect Rosina, to be her champion, but she could not allow this. Colly must come first. First over the man she knew loved her, the man she loved with all her being, who was struggling to hold her and claim her forever.
‘No! I’m sorry, Peter. I won’t let you do this!’
She was thin and wiry and surprisingly strong. Blake lost his grip for an instant and she was free. She darted away from him, and running through the ferns, made her way around the cairn and along a route he was not familiar with.
Blake knew if he moved quickly he stood a chance of reaching the miners’ cottages at the same time as she did. He leapt on his mare, crying out as pain seared through the tender spots on his ribs, riding as swiftly as was safe through the springy foliage laced with hidden rabbit holes, and dodging round granite boulders.
* * *
Twenty minutes lapsed before a breathless Rosina made it to her cottage door. People looked on anxiously as she ran past without greeting them. Beelzebub, dozing by the door, jumped up and snarled at her.
‘Go run and fetch young Preacher from Mrs Bray’s,’ Lou Hunken ordered one of her children. ‘Tell’n to come here urgently.’
Worry creased Lou Hunken’s brow as she hurried off to gather her husband and the other menfolk not on core. She’d seen Colly Pearce slam drunkenly into the cottage but ten minutes or so before. She had assumed Rosina was inside at the time, and now icy fear breathed its way uncomfortably into the pit of her stomach. It was well known how angry Colly would get if the maid wasn’t home when he turned up, and his violence had noticeably increased lately.
‘Where the hell have you been!’ Colly hurled at her accusingly as Rosina shut the door behind her. She leaned against it, panting to regain her breath, and swallowed hard.
‘Just out for a bit of a walk, Colly,’ she said, trying to keep her voice natural. ‘I… I’m sorry if I’m a bit late getting back.’ She saw a pile of dry twigs smouldering in the fireplace. ‘I see you’ve lit a fire. I’ll just cheer it up and—’
‘Lazy slut!’ he shouted, making her jump. ‘Get me something to eat. You got no damn’ right, out prancing on the downs when you should be getting my meals. Lazy slut! Bitch!’
‘There’s some bread and cheese,’ she said, moving to the food cupboard. ‘I thought you wouldn’t be back yet. You said this morning—’
‘Never mind what I said this morning! If you won’t look after me properly I’ll throw you out, and get in a woman who will. Not one who’s got bloody religion either.’
He slumped down in a chair and drummed his fingers on the table as she put down mugs and plates and a board with the end of a loaf and a small piece of cheese.
‘What’s this?’ he said irritably, pointing a dirty finger at the food.
‘It’s all we have,’ Rosina said shakily. ‘I… I’m not hungry. You have it all.’
‘Why don’t you go over to they Brays then and get yourself a nice big pasty, eh?’ he jeered at her, his expression turning his eyes to slits and making his nose seem more bulbous.
‘What do you mean by that, Colly?’ she asked, redness creeping up her face.
‘You know bloody well what I mean!’ He thumped his fist on the table, making the tin plates clatter about. ‘While that fat bitch is feeding you nice ’n’ full, I get nothing but stale bread and mouldy cheese.’
‘Colly, I…’
‘Shut up! Just you shut up! I want none of your bloody lies.’
Rosina moved to the door.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’
‘I’m going outside to give you a chance to calm down, Colly.’
She kept her eyes on him all the time as she moved in small sidesteps. She had read the warning signs, knowing he was about to reach bursting point at any moment. Rosina had tried to sound matter-of-fact, but he did not miss the note of fear in her voice.
‘You’re going nowhere to tell your Bible-thumping friends I ill treat you,’ he snarled, pushing his chair back so harshly it crashed to the floor. ‘Just you come here.’
‘Please, Colly… I… I just want some fresh air.’
Rosina managed to get halfway through the door before Colly yanked her viciously back, making her scream out. Beelzebub began to bark, jumping and scratching at the door after Colly Pearce slammed it shut. He threw his sister back across the room, thrusting the wooden bar across the door.
‘It’s high time you were teached a real lesson,’ he said, with the eyes of the deranged.
Slowly he pulled off his belt. Wrapping it
around his hand he advanced towards her. Rosina backed away, her eyes bright with fear, a hand to her throat. Too late she realised she was still wearing the pendant Peter Blake had given to her.
Colly was on her in a moment, snatching her hand away and ripping the chain from her neck. He dangled it in front of her eyes.
‘Well, what have we here? Very pretty,’ he taunted. ‘Who gave you this?’
‘A… a… friend,’ Rosina stammered, staring at the white cross on the pendant as it swung to and fro.
‘A friend, eh? Looks as though it was a close friend, a gentleman friend, if he can afford gold. Got yourself a gentleman friend, have you, little sister? What did you have to do to get this, eh? Who’s been laying on you in the heather?’ He threw the pendant across the room behind him. ‘Well? I’m waiting for an answer.’
His face was evil, his body stank of the rottenness that ran through to his very core.
‘Colly, please, for the love of God!’
The mongrel was still barking and trying to get inside as Colly gripped Rosina by the throat and hurled her slight body violently across the room. She fell heavily close to her cross and clutched it in her hand at the same time as the heavy belt slashed across her back. She heard a scream but didn’t realise it was coming from her own throat.
A loud hammering started on the door, followed by a single yelp from the dog.
‘Open this door, Pearce, or we’ll break it down!’ It was Jeb Bray in the company of several others.
‘Go to Hell you bastards!’ Colly shouted back.
‘We’ve killed your mongrel, Pearce!’ Hunk Hunken was the next to shout. ‘Now let the maid go or it’ll be the worse for you!’
Colly Pearce gave a horrible laugh. He looked down at his sister who was peeping up at him through the fingers of one hand. A glimmer of compassion showed in his eyes before it disappeared under a glaze of insanity. Rosina took her hand away from her face to plead silently to her brother. A mighty kick from the tip of his boot left her stunned.
Peals of laughter from Colly drowned out the battering on the door, and the threats and shouts of the angry miners. He crossed the room, grunting like an imbecile, and picked up a full bottle of gin. Gulping down a mouthful he sprinkled the rest over the floor and sparse furniture before smashing the bottle against a table leg. Some of the men outside began to pound on the door with their shoulders in the effort to break it down. At the same time Peter Blake threw himself off his mare and pushed his way through the gathering crowd, startling miners and wives at his sudden appearance.
‘What’s going on?’ he demanded, taking in the dog’s body and the scene before him. ‘Where’s Rosina? Where’s Miss Pearce?’ he went on fearfully. ‘Is this where she lives?’
‘She’s in there,’ a miner said, ‘her brother’s gone mad.’
‘Rosina! Rosina!’ Blake’s shout was near to a scream.
There was no answer but now he could hear the demented laughter coming from inside the cottage.
‘Look! Smoke!’ screeched Lou Hunken, standing back from the crowd and pointing to the window.
‘Get that door down!’ Blake urged the miners. He made to help the men pounding on the door but Matthias Renfree pulled him out of the way.
‘Let them do it,’ Matthias told him, ‘they’re stronger than you are. You will have your ribs broken again.’
‘What’s going on in there, Renfree? Is Rosina all right?’
‘We don’t know for certain, Mr Blake… look, the door’s about to give way.’
It splintered and cracked, then fell in under the miners’ combined weight. Pulling himself free from Matthias, Blake roughly shoved them aside to plunge through the doorway first. He came face to face with Colly Pearce.
‘So,’ Colly sneered, ‘my sister really ’as got ’erself a gentleman.’
Blake coughed in the smoky room. ‘Get out of my way,’ he said icily.
‘You won’t find ’er,’ said Colly, laughing horribly again. ‘She’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s…’
A scream tore from Peter Blake’s throat as he found the strength to push the crazed man back into the room and out of his way. Colly went staggering back to the fireplace. He had put Rosina’s shawl on the twigs which had finally caught alight. It was smouldering and filling the room with smoke. As he righted himself his hand caught the shawl and he dashed it to the ground. A small flame from it was enough to make the gin he had splashed around flare up. Panicking like a terrified animal, Colly ran but slipped backwards, the flames setting his shirt ablaze. Somehow he scrambled to his feet and, screaming in agony, dashed out of the cottage, scattering the crowd back from the doorway, his back, hair and arms well alight. Women and children screamed in horror and Matthias and Hunk Hunken ran after him to put out the flames.
By now Blake had located Rosina’s motionless form. Gently lifting her up, and choking on the thickening smoke, he carried her outside, pushing away the helping hands he encountered. He knelt with her in his arms a good distance from the cottage. Gasping in fresh air, he pushed the hair back from Rosina’s brow.
‘Rosina!’ He shook her gently then placed a hand over her heart. Panicking when he could feel nothing, he put his head on her chest, almost crying with relief at the faint heartbeat he could just hear.
Kneeling down beside them, Faith Bray rubbed the girl’s wrists between her hands.
‘Poor little maid,’ she said, ‘just look at her forehead.’
An ugly bruised swelling covered Rosina’s temple, while blood trickled into her hair. An old woman pushed forward and tapped on Blake’s shoulder.
‘Here, Mr Blake. Put this blanket round the little maid. Tes a hot day, but she be in shock.’
Peter Blake looked up and met the old woman’s encouraging smile. ‘Thank you,’ he said, his voice made husky by the smoke. ‘I’ll make sure it’s returned to you.’
Not all those gathering round were to prove as friendly.
‘You get your hands off she there,’ a miner piped up suddenly, ‘the likes of thee got no right to be touching her.’
Murmurs of assent went round the crowd and they pressed in closer to the group huddled on the ground. Faith Bray looked on worriedly as Peter Blake wrapped the ragged grey blanket around Rosina’s limp body. Faith stood up when he rose, the girl held firmly in his arms.
‘You, Peter Blake, you’re not taking that maid anywhere,’ Carn Bawden said, standing directly in front of him and folding his arms.
Peter Blake was not afraid or intimidated. He held his head high, looking from face to face. The miners who had tried to extinguish the fire in the Pearces’ cottage had given up the task as hopeless and had joined their neighbours at the back of the gathering.
‘Are you any better than me? Any of you?’ Blake said in quiet anger.
The crowd fell silent to listen to what he would say next. They were joined by Matthias Renfree and Hunk Hunken who had returned, unsuccessfully from trying to catch up with Colly Pearce.
Blake included them in his next sentence. ‘Did one man here among you ever try to stop what was happening to Rosina?’
Heads dropped and feet began to shuffle amidst the guilty silence.
‘I thought not,’ he continued. ‘I’ve met Rosina many times on the downs during the last few weeks. I’ve not done a single thing to harm her and she’s been happy with me. When she was with me today I determined not to let her return here again, but she slipped away from me. And look what happened. Her damned brother nearly killed her!’
Blake looked down at the girl in his arms. Rosina’s eyes were open and she was looking back at him, bewilderment in her pale, pinched face.
‘It’s all right, my dearest,’ he said tenderly. ‘I’m taking you to my sister’s house.’
Rosina closed her eyes with the merest trace of a smile, but as Blake took a step forward, a few miners stood their ground. Their faces were stern and unyielding, their whole stance threatening. Blake was not afraid.
He would not leave without Rosina. He opened his mouth to speak but Matthias Renfree also had something to say and was a word ahead.
‘Let Mr Blake through. He’s right in what he said, and Rosina will receive better attention and medical care at his sister’s house than we can provide for her here.’
Their young preacher had spoken and had an edge of authority in his voice enough to win the argument. The miners moved reluctantly aside and Hunk Hunken brought forward Blake’s mare.
‘Here, sir,’ offered Jeb Bray. ‘I’ll hold the maid while you get on your horse.’
Blake looked doubtful and held Rosina a little tighter. He was not going to lose her now. Matthias moved forward and held out his arms.
‘You can trust me,’ he said. ‘Rosina’s place is with you now. I trust you to look after her.’
After another moment’s hesitation Blake passed Rosina to him, taking her carefully into his arms again when mounted.
‘May I call on you later today?’ Matthias asked.
Blake nodded. ‘What will you do about Rosina’s brother?’
‘We’ll send a search party out for him… try to help him.’
‘Don’t tell him where Rosina is, Renfree. If I see him anywhere near her again, I’ll kill him. I swear it.’
‘I think he’s too badly hurt to cause her any further trouble, Mr Blake,’ Matthias said, sadly shaking his head.
‘I have money in the mine,’ Blake said, looking across to the stark black silhouette of the Wheal Ember engine house on the horizon. He cast his eyes over the ragged skinny children staring at him with huge eyes in skull-thin faces. ‘Look at them… all too thin, all malnourished. Like Rosina. I’ll send food and milk over every week for them. Will you oblige me, Renfree, by seeing they get it?’
‘Indeed I will, Mr Blake, and thank you for your thoughtfulness.’ Matthias said.
Blake quickly quieted the murmurs of dissent from the mining folk. ‘Don’t think of it as coming from me,’ he said harshly. Then softening his voice, ‘Think of it as coming from Rosina.’
Pengarron Land Page 39
