Matthias Renfree felt guilty and ashamed as he watched Peter Blake lovingly wrap the blanket closer around the girl’s unconscious body. Matthias had only made a half-hearted attempt at the one thing he could have done for Rosina, and even then she had seen right through him. Oh, he had prayed fervently for her deliverance, but hadn’t the Good Lord given him a tongue and two good legs and arms to go to her aid as well?
Turning his back on the couple on horseback he said to the few miners who had not drifted off with the main body of the crowd, ‘Let’s go and find Colly. He’ll need help.’
The Pearces’ cottage was an inferno as Blake rode away with Rosina nestling close to him. She was fully awake now and held up the hand clutching the pendant.
‘Peter,’ she said in a whisper. ‘It’s broken.’
‘Never mind, my precious angel. I’ll have it repaired for you.’ He smiled down at her. ‘And as long as I have breath in my body, no one will harm as much as a hair on your head, ever again.’
* * *
For two days Colly Pearce, driven on only by pain and madness, had scrambled across the downs and on to the edge of the clifftop. He could make no distinction between light or darkness, night or day. The burnt flesh on the upper part of his body was putrid and stinking, and feasted on by a swarm of flies. By now he was dangerously dehydrated.
He had slept through the second day after the fire, unseen, only a hundred feet from Painted Bessie’s kiddley. He woke to wander wildly about as twilight fell. The light was fading, the sea a restless marble green. A sliver of cloud cut the orange-red sun in half as it neared the horizon.
Colly loped and stumbled along the cliff edge, not seeing the beauty in the short stubbly gorse and heather in a patchwork cover of gold and purple stretching away inland. At times he cried for Rosina, one moment wanting to kill her, the next convinced he had and weeping wretchedly. Other times his mind regressed to his childhood and he was running happily over the heather on the downs holding his little sister’s hand.
Slugs, and snails in patterned shells, slithered in abundance over the damp surface and Colly slipped on the wetness and stumbled in the deep rabbit holes repeatedly. Each time he managed to get to his feet he looked behind, thinking someone was following him. But his wavering vision could detect no movement, his ears, buzzing and whistling, no sound behind or to the side of him.
Colly loped on, singing a bawdy alehouse ditty, one breathless word at a time.
‘If ever there was a comely wench, Tis sweet Annie Pol—’
He swung round and rubbed his eyes, listening hard for the sound of footsteps or the rustling of clothes. He could see nothing but cliff landscape, sky and sea, he could hear nothing except the sounds of the waves below and the wind whistling in his ears. Turning, he stumbled on.
‘She’s twice the woman now.’
Colly swung round again. The next word died in his throat, fear made his eyes bulge. His body lost control of its basic functions.
‘YOU!’ he gagged on the word, backing away with trembling hands held out in front of him, the scar on the palm of his right hand covered by a blister the size of a hen’s egg.
The sun sat like a red disc on the horizon. A sound cut through the evening air and a straight line slashed across Colly’s throat matched the fiery redness of the sun. He leaned forward, his blood gurgling in his throat and splashing on the extravagant white layers of lace that spilled from his attacker’s coat sleeve.
Hezekiah Solomon wiped his blade on the front of his victim’s shirt, his ice-cold eyes burning comfortlessly into Colly’s until the miner’s eyes rolled back in his head.
Colly Pearce died on his feet, and before his body could crumple, Hezekiah Solomon pushed the lifeless form over the cliff edge. Dressed as immaculately as ever, Hezekiah ripped off his blood-splashed cuffs and watched them flutter after Colly as he fell down the sheer edge before hitting some rocks in the savage water below. White froth covered the broken body as waves crashed against the black granite. It moved at crazy angles at first, then slid into deeper water that held it up for a while, bobbing about as if in farewell to the world, before finally the sad remains of Colly Pearce were sucked out of sight for ever.
Hezekiah Solomon bent to wipe his bloodied hands clean in the wet grass and rose to breathe a contented smile. He looked out across the silvery sparkling sea and watched the red disc of warmth and light bid farewell to the day, before walking back to the kiddleywink. His white face was lit by a wide angelic smile.
Chapter 23
Kerensa was absorbed with arranging flowers in Oliver’s study. Humming contentedly to herself, she didn’t hear her husband creep up behind her.
‘I’ve got something for you, my love,’ he said proudly, almost in her ear.
‘Oh!’ A startled hand to her bosom, she turned round. ‘Oh,’ she said again, this time with delight.
Cradled in Oliver’s arms, with bright appealing dark eyes and a black velvet ribbon tied in a bow on its collar, was a friendly-looking black puppy. Holding out her arms to take it, Kerensa laughed as it wriggled about excitedly while trying to lick her face.
‘He’s lovely, Oliver. Is he really mine?’
‘Yes, he’s all yours, my love. A descendant of old Dunstan. He’s several weeks old now and could have left his mother a lot sooner. But I wanted to be certain you’d got over Dunstan’s death before I brought him over from Ker-an-Mor for you.’
Gently stroking the puppy’s velvety head, her face aglow, Kerensa said, ‘Thank you, Oliver, he’s wonderful.’ And added with a shy smile, ‘Like you.’ She raised herself on tiptoe and tilted his face up to his.
Oliver thought if his gift warranted him as being ‘wonderful’ he deserved more than a peck and he kissed his wife soundly.
‘Ah,’ she said, a trifle breathlessly, fingering the animal’s collar, ‘now I see what you did with the ribbon I bought for you on May Day.’
‘That’s right,’ he said, untying the bow and pulling away the length of velvet. ‘He won’t be needing this now. We don’t want him looking effeminate.’
Kerensa studied the puppy’s small square face. ‘He’s definitely no Hezekiah.’
Oliver laughed. ‘A scruffy individual, this one. Nathan will show you how to train him, but make sure he’s kept out of my study. I keep some important papers and documents in here.’
Kerensa put the puppy carefully down on the floor where he chewed at the hem of her dress before whimpering to be picked up again. Happy to indulge him, she crouched down and cuddled the warm squirming body to hers.
‘’e went be as spoilt as you are,’ uttered Beatrice, flapping into the room.
‘Who, me? Spoilt?’ Oliver said, pointing to himself.
‘Jus’ ’ee look at un, maid,’ Beatrice puffed on. ‘Pretendin’ ’e don’t knaw what I be on ’bout. Bin spoilt, ’e ’ave, by ev’ry female in ’is life.’
Lifting the puppy, Kerensa moved over to Beatrice so the old woman could stroke him.
‘Isn’t he lovely, Beatrice? Did you know about him before today?’
‘Fust I knawed of un, maid,’ Beatrice rasped back, making watery guttural noises at the puppy. ‘’e never did tell nothin’ to nobody. Deep ’e is… gettin’ deeper, if ’ee asks me.’
‘Well, he can sleep in Dunstan’s old basket. I’ll find him a new blanket after I’ve showed him to Polly, Ruth and Esther. Oh, and Jack will love to see him.’
‘Ais, be proper luvly to see ’is ’an’some little small body in that em’ty basket.’
‘I’d better find something for him to eat…’
‘Ahem,’ Oliver said loudly. When he had their full attention he continued, ‘Now if you two ladies will take yourselves off and carry on your conversation elsewhere, I have work to do.’
‘Of course,’ returned Kerensa, walking over to him. ‘I’ll have to think of a name for the puppy. Have you any ideas, Oliver?’
‘No,’ he replied, shrugging his shoulders. ‘Call him a
nything you care to, my dear, as long as it’s not Tom.’
Oliver was halfway between standing and sitting when a stinging slap sent him hurtling to the floor and knocking over his chair.
‘What the hell…?’
‘I wouldn’t dream of calling him after my grandfather,’ Kerensa said crossly, looking down on his startled face. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’m busy too. The Richards children have the flux again so Polly and I are going over to Rose Farm. Jack can look after the puppy until I get back. Oh, and another thing. I’ll be grateful, Oliver, if you would not swear in the house.’ With a toss of red hair Kerensa flounced out of the study with the puppy in her arms.
Beatrice laughed and laughed, tears streaming down her screwed-up face as she held her sagging stomach.
As he got to his feet Oliver ruefully rubbed his stinging cheek. ‘What did I say? Why did Kerensa do that?’ he appealed to the old woman.
‘Looks… looks like ’ee’ve come… across,’ Beatrice managed to get out through bouts of uproarious laughter, ‘a female at last… who… who went spoil ’ee, me ’an’some.’
Righting his chair and picking up a pile of papers from his desk, Oliver shuffled them tersely until all the edges were neat and equal.
‘I d’reckon ’ee’d best not be so free with they sarky words of yourn in future, boy.’
Beatrice wiped her grotesque wet face with her dirty apron and headed for the door, unable to stop herself from breaking out into fits of hearty chortles.
‘And you had better not mention this to anyone else, Bea, not to anyone,’ Oliver warned her, sitting down and reaching for his goose quill.
* * *
Finding Nathan O’Flynn waiting for her in the stableyard, Polly Berryman called out, ‘Good evening,’ to him.
‘Good evening, m’dear,’ he answered with a ready grin. ‘All set for a nice long walk in this welcome cool breeze?’
Polly took Nat’s arm. ‘Not too far this evening if you please, Nathan,’ she said as they walked off, ‘I’m not feeling too good at the moment.’ Peering at her downcast face, he said, ‘Now you come to mention it, you don’t look at all well, Polly. We’ll go no further than halfway to the oaks, how about that, then?’
‘A quarter of the way would be better.’
‘In that case, just here will be fine,’ said Nat. ‘I’ll not have you making yourself ill on my account.’
Stopping in the orchard they sat close together on the garden seat Kerensa had set near to Dunstan’s grave.
‘Are you sure you’re all right, m’dear?’ Nat asked kindly. ‘Would you rather not go inside?’ Polly smiled at his worried face. She was pleased and proud with Nat’s courtship of her. The son of a poor immigrant farm labourer, he had received no good looks at birth or later in life. He had none of the social graces and was often awkward and clumsy away from his work, yet he was kind and caring, loyal and sensitive, with a delightful optimistic nature.
Ruffling his bushy dark hair Polly said, ‘I’m just feeling a bit dizzy, that’s all. It’ll pass by the morning.’
‘Lean yourself on my shoulder and close your eyes and take in a deep breath of this lovely fresh air,’ Nat told her.
Settling comfortably against his shoulder she murmured, ‘I can’t remember such a hot dry summer for years. Thank goodness for a cool evening.’
‘Aye, with such a harvest it means more hardship for the poor, and things are bad enough for them as it is.’
‘At least the Pengarron Estate farmers and workers will fare better under Sir Oliver than others will under some landlords.’
‘That’s right enough.’
A chuckle escaped from Nat’s throat and Polly sat up straight at the unexpected noise.
‘And what’s the matter with you, Nathan O’Flynn?’
‘Oh, nothing really.’
‘Well, it must have been something. You don’t usually laugh when we’re talking about something serious.’
‘You mentioning his lordship made me think of something, that’s all,’ Nat said, kissing Polly’s cheek.
‘Made you think of what? I’ll burst if you don’t tell me,’ she said, becoming keener by the moment to know the answer to this seeming mystery.
‘Well,’ he chuckled again. ‘I couldn’t help thinking about that little girl hitting his lordship to the floor. How I wish I’d been there to see it.’
‘How do you know about that?’ Polly was shocked. ‘And where’s your sense of manners? It’s her ladyship, not “that little girl”!’
Nat was always somewhat amused at Polly’s insistence on propriety.
‘Sorry, Polly, but she’ll always be that to me. When I first met her, I thought her too young to be attached even to Clem Trenchard. As to how I come to know about her slapping Sir Oliver, it was Beatrice who told me. Anyway, if I’m not supposed to know anything about it, how come you do?’
‘Oh, that’s simple enough,’ Polly said, beginning to smile. ‘I was looking for her ladyship to tell her her pony was saddled ready for our journey to Rose Farm.’
Looking all about them she leaned closer to whisper in Nat’s ear, ‘Actually, I saw it all from the open doorway.’ She burst out laughing. ‘It was so comical, Nathan. I had to go away and hide for ten minutes to stop myself laughing. If only you could have seen his lordship’s face! It’s a picture I’ll never forget as long as I live.’
They laughed together and Nat said, ‘I’d give a year of my life if I could see it. Fancy that though, Polly, a tall, muscular man like Sir Oliver being knocked off his feet by a slip of a girl.’
‘Shh,’ she said, looking around to be sure they were not being overheard. ‘Don’t forget you’re not supposed to know anything about it, nor am I. His lordship warned Beatrice very firmly not to tell anyone what she saw and heard.’
‘Then he should have warned her not to hit the gin bottle as well. She was well gone when she sang out the news to me, Jack and Barney, and on her way out to Painted Bessie’s she stopped to tell Jake.’
‘So it will be all round the parish by morning,’ Polly said, holding her sides at a new outbreak of laughter.
‘Aye, that it will. I reckon some will say Sir Oliver’s young wife has got her own back on him at last.’
‘Oh, my head,’ murmured Polly, putting a hand to her brow. ‘All this laughter is doing me no good.’
‘Well then,’ he said, placing a strong capable arm round her shoulders, ‘close your eyes and settle down again, m’dear.’
Nathan brushed away a dozy wasp, then had to do it several times more before the insect flew away elsewhere.
‘You… um… thought over the question I put to you the other evening?’ he said.
‘About becoming your wife you mean, Nathan?’ she replied, smiling like a young girl.
‘Aye, that’s right enough. Well?’
With her eyes still closed Polly took his large hand between both of hers.
‘I didn’t come looking for a husband when I left Tolwithrick, nor did I ever really expect to get married, but… if it’s all right with her ladyship, it’s all right with me.’
Nat smiled, and resting his head against hers, he too closed his eyes under the coolness of the apple trees.
Chapter 24
Wide awake when Oliver came to bed in the night, Kerensa shaded her eyes from the glow of the candles he was holding.
‘Still awake?’ he said quietly, moving closer so he could read her face and ascertain her mood.
‘I can’t get to sleep,’ she answered him, sitting up with one hand over her eyes and the other rubbing her neck.
‘The light’s bothering you,’ Oliver remarked.
Putting the candles down out of her line of vision he sat on the bed beside her and touched her forehead.
‘You’re hot and freely perspiring, my love. Can I get you anything?’
‘Polly left me some water on the table over there,’ she said, pointing to the middle of the room. ‘Will you pour me a glass
, please?’
He did this, glancing at her often. As she took the glass from him Kerensa caught hold of his hand.
‘I’m sorry I hit you, Oliver,’ she said contritely.
‘So am I,’ he said, rubbing his cheek and giving a small laugh. ‘You can slog with the best of them. I’m thinking of putting you up against Matthew King at his next wrestling match. I’ve not beaten him and Nathan O’Flynn made no impression on him, but I’m sure you would stand a good chance.’
‘Mmmm… perhaps I’m not sorry after all, Oliver Pengarron. You thoroughly deserved it.’
Kerensa sipped from the glass. Oliver kissed the top of her head and, moving away, pulled off his boots and quickly undressed.
‘Is it safe for me to get in bed,’ he teased her, ‘or are you going to hit me again?’
Kerensa pulled back the sheet, the only covering over the bed, and he got in beside her. She took another sip of water.
‘I believe you are a good deal more of a baby than the baby’s going to be,’ she said dryly, as Oliver was winding his pocket watch.
‘What! Are you…?’ He dropped the watch on the bedside cabinet.
‘I think I’m going to have a baby, yes,’ she went on in a matter-of-fact voice. ‘It’s why I’m not feeling well.’
‘Good, good,’ he said enthusiastically, while throwing his arms about her and almost yanking her hot body against his. ‘I mean good that you are pregnant, not that you’re unwell. You deserve a big kiss for this, my precious love.
‘You are hot, aren’t you?’ he said, taking his mouth from hers. ‘You must take life easy for the next few months. We’ll ask Beatrice for advice, she’s an expert on childbearing.’
‘Beatrice will probably say there’s no need to take things easy, Oliver. Anyway, I’m fit and strong, always have been, and have always been active.’
‘Even so, I won’t allow you to expose yourself to other people’s illnesses. You must not go over to Rose Farm again, at least until you have delivered the child. I don’t want you taking any unnecessary risks, Kerensa.’
Pengarron Land Page 40
