Ben’s fury rose, but there was no time to waste in temperament. He stood up in the trap, where the men could all see him. He didn’t deny his fear at the gaunt, torchlit faces in front of him. He felt like a lone sheep among a pack of wolves. If they didn’t like what he said, they would be after his blood.
‘What’s to do wi’ your father, Ben Killigrew?’ a single jeer went up. ‘Be the old bugger alive or dead?’
Ben’s fear died away. Again, he thanked God that luck had been on his side last night, and above the din, his voice was as resounding as Charles Killigrew’s used to be…
‘The old bugger’s still breathing, and he’s still got enough sense to know he can’t run Killigrew Clay from a sick bed, which is why he’s signed it all over to me—’
‘’Tis true, then! And what do ’ee intend doin’ for we?’
‘The boy’s still in his cradle,’ snarled one or two. ‘What do he know about clayworking? One day’s work were all he put in, and thought he were crippled—’
‘We’ll get no dues out of this un! Cornin’ here in his fancy trap—’
‘And wi’ his fancy woman! Hal Tremayne’s daughter’s gone up in the world since poor John Penry went courtin’ her. She’ll not be cryin’ that he’s squashed to a pulp—’ Sneers were added to the bitter resentment in the shouting.
Morwen’s head spun at the vicious words, her eyes stinging with tears. They were blind fools, the lot of them, and if they had seen what had remained of John Penry as she had done, they couldn’t be so cruel… she flinched as her father’s voice rang out above the rest.
‘No man here calls my daughter a fancy woman!’ he roared. ‘And the next shit-bag who stops Ben Killigrew saying what he’s come to say can have my fist in their guts. Shut up, the lot of ’ee, and let the boy have his say.’
Ben’s eyes were dark with rage, his face a tight mask as he clipped out the words. He’d dearly like to tell the lot of them to go to hell, for their stupidity and their shaming of the girl he loved. But that wasn’t his purpose. There was clay to be shifted, and prosperity for all, if they would only listen…
‘Killigrew Clay now belongs to me,’ he spoke coldly and savagely. ‘What happens here in the future depends on my say-so, so think very hard on that for a minute! You know of the accident in the town. The men who stole my waggon and my horses and my clay will be given a decent burying, even though I’m the loser by their foolishness.’
Above the mutterings, he went on loudly.
‘All the same, they were good men, and didn’t deserve to die. I want to be fair. The blame for it all is this bloody strike, and it’s time it was ended—’
‘There’s only one way we’ll work your clay, Killigrew!’ the shouts went up. ‘Give us the dues your father owes us—’
‘Your wage rises will be paid to you from the day you return to work.’ Ben bellowed out. ‘If that’s tomorrow, then I’ll see to it that a token amount is brought to each works in the morning, the rest of it being paid out with the next pay envelope. There’s money waiting for you, and there’s clay waiting to be sent to the port, and I want this strike ended right now! It could be the last time we use clay waggons to take the blocks through St Austell town. I intend building rail tracks as soon as possible. It will increase our efficiency and we’ll all benefit, and no one will be thrown out of work. That’s my pledge to you. Do I have your promise to return to work tomorrow and help make Killigrew Clay the best pit in Cornwall?’
After a brief, startled silence, it was like a stampede. The small trap was in danger of being as crushed as the clay waggon as the men surged forward, the suspicious faces suddenly alive again. Cheers and stamping alarmed the horse, and Ben had to grasp its reins firmly, while Hal and the pit captains tried to control the men. The relief was too great. Ben still kept calm, but Morwen was weak at the outcome.
‘Get back to your homes now,’ Hal shouted harshly. ‘And show hands all those who’ll report for work in the morning.’
Every hand rose, and at last they began to disperse, congratulating themselves. Tomorrow they would have full bellies again. Tomorrow was suddenly beautiful.
Ben sat down abruptly, feeling as though he’d run a hundred miles. The fight was over, and he’d won. Let the clayworkers think they were the victors, which they were, in a way. They’d got their wage rises… but he’d got his works in production again, and that was the important thing. It didn’t matter who had won.
‘Will you bring Morwen to the cottage for a while, Ben?’ Hal said abruptly. ‘Her mother will want to see her.’
There was an odd constraint bet wen them. They were on the same side, but now that the fight was over, neither could forget the slight to Morwen’s name. She felt humiliated as she remembered the jeers tossed her way. She’d heard the mutters in the crowd that she acted more like a Killigrew than a Tremayne now, and in the clayworkers’ angry mood it would be a betrayal.
They couldn’t know how dearly she would like to change her name to that of Killigrew. To be Ben’s wife… how would they view that! She glanced at his hard, carved features in the early evening twilight, and wondered if it would ever happen. He had shown a new authority in his dealings with the clayworkers. She had seen the ambition in him.
Would he still want a clayworker’s daughter for his wife? He had said so, but that was before he had got a surging crowd of men roaring their approval for their new boss. Ben Killigrew was really somebody now, and everyone for miles around would soon know it.
They reached the cottage, and her menfolk were there almost as quickly. The trap was stopped every few yards by one or another who wanted to shake Ben Killigrew’s hand, or to tip his cap at the new young boss who was going to make Killigrew Clay the best pit in Cornwall. The words would be music to their ears. Why then should Morwen feel so cold inside? So uncertain of anything, as though the earth was shifting beneath her feet…
And then she shivered again, suddenly remembering old Zillah’s strange words. It wasn’t an earthquake that had occurred in St Austell town when the clay waggon had crashed through Nott’s bakery, but the effects had been just as devastating.
Chapter Twenty-Four
When they reached the cottage, Morwen was immediately enveloped in the old familiar atmosphere, and now the celebrations began. Ben drank fruit cordial with them as though it was the best French champagne, but there was more to be discussed yet.
‘My father offered your family a small house, Hal, and for Sam to take on this cottage—’
‘If you’m thinking ’tis unwise for us to be moving out just yet, I’ll understand,’ Hal said quickly.
Bess gave a small sigh. She dearly wished to move into the house nearer the town. It was Bess’s dream…
Ben didn’t look at Morwen, yet she sensed that his words were for her as much as her father and brother. She still felt oddly disorientated when she should feel so secure, here, among her family, and everyone she loved most.
‘That’s not what I think. I want you to move to the house, Hal, and I’m offering more. I want a manager for Killigrew Clay, to oversee all the works. There will still be some resentment towards me and I need someone I can trust who’s respected by the men, and you’re the one for it. If Sam will take over from you as pit captain of Number One works, then that job is his—’
There was no doubt the cottage became a more jubilant place than for many weeks past. Only one face still found it hard to smile. Not until now had Morwen realised the full potential of Ben’s power, and the ability to manipulate mens’ lives… what he was telling them was wonderful, of course… they all laughed and cried and said how wonderful it all was…
‘We hardly need say we agree to it, Ben.’ Hal’s voice was thick as cream, and Bess’s eyes shone. Sam said that’d he’d best get over to see Dora and arrange the new wedding date as quickly as possible.
‘Though I’m not sure how the men will take it all,’ Hal was bound to comment. ‘’Twill need some delicacy to make sur
e it don’t sound like a reward for summat—’
‘I’ll be at the works in the morning to explain my reasons,’ Ben promised. ‘And Sam’s wedding will soon make people forget the dark days that are past.’
For the first time, he looked full into Morwen’s beautiful eyes and then back at her father. She felt the sudden pounding in her heart, the leaping hope in her veins as she heard an unusual tremor in Ben’s voice as he went on.
‘I’m sorry for what was said about Morwen. She didn’t deserve it, though they were partially right if they think she’s more Killigrew than Tremayne. That’s what I want her to be, Hal. I want Morwen to be my wife, and I’m asking – begging – for your permission for it.’
He had never begged any man before, but at the unexpected look of doubt on Hal Tremayne’s face, he would beg on his knees if he had to. He saw Sam frown… but then he heard Morwen’s sudden indrawn breath and saw the blaze of happiness on her face as she moved quickly to his side.
His arm went around her, knowing fiercely that he would keep her there and defend his right to love her against any opposition. Ben Killigrew had everything he ever wanted, but without Morwen it was nothing…
Freddie began jumping up and down with excitement as no one spoke for a few seconds.
‘Our Morwen’s going to marry Ben Killigrew! Can I tell em all, Daddy! ’Twill be one in the eye for em—’
‘’Tain’t such a rattlin’ good idea as all that!’ Sam objected. ‘She’s still a babby apart from all else – and you’d best keep your trap shut, our Freddie, until Daddy’s had summat to say on it.’
‘I ain’t sure I want to be related to no Killigrew, neither,’ Jack was sullen, the mood of the strike still too recent to welcome this new development in their fortunes.
‘Morwen, have you thought carefully about this?’ Bess said quietly, seeing the joy fast fading from her daughter’s eyes at her brothers’ reception of Ben’s words.
‘What does your father say to it, Ben?’ Hal was more forceful. ‘There’s no – no reason for this sudden request, is there?’ He couldn’t hide the swift look of suspicion, nor stop his eyes raking Morwen’s slender shape, tensed now with unbridled fury as she almost pushed past Ben to glower at her father.
Her eyes were brilliant jewels, her face fiery with colour, but when Ben murmured to her to keep calm, it was like telling the sea not to ebb and flow each day…
‘You shame me worse than any of those louts at the clay works! You think because I’m young I’m incapable of feelings, of loving. And you think there’s some bad reason for Ben wanting to marry me, Daddy! Can’t you understand that we love each other? We’ve loved each other for a long time – for all time! I thought you’d know all about that, Mammie – and you too, Sam. You and Dora know what it means to be kept apart when all you want is to be together—’
Her voice choked and shook. Ben stood behind her, his hands firm on her shoulders as though to support her, but she needed no physical support. Despite the emotion charging through her, she was strong, and the shifting earth beneath her feet no longer moved. She had a purpose, and her belief in it was insuperable. If clay dues were worth fighting for, then so was love… so was love.
‘We’re not trying to block ’ee, Morwen,’ Hal said, more moved by her impassioned words than he had expected. ‘Just to talk it out, the way we always have—’
She blazed at him. ‘What’s to talk out, Daddy? Ben has been honest with you. He wants to marry me, and I – oh, Daddy, I want to marry him too! It’s everything I want.’ She swallowed hard, her soft mouth trembling, and turned to her mother.
‘Don’t ’ee think that if Celia was old enough for dyin’, then I’m old enough for marryin’, Mammie?’ Her voice was thick, the pain of that terrible day vivid in her mind.
She saw Bess’s eyes mist with tears, and now she did need Ben’s arms, and they held her tight.
‘Don’t damn us completely, Hal,’ Ben said harshly. ‘As to what my father thinks – I’ve said nothing to him yet, but you know how fond he is of Morwen—’
‘Bein’ fond is different to having a bal maiden for a daughter!’ Sam was still doggedly aggressive.
‘Do you think she’s not good enough for me, Sam?’ Ben demanded.
‘No, I bloody don’t think that!’ Sam said angrily, falling into the trap. ‘Our Morwen’s good enough for anybody, even a bloody Killigrew—’
‘Sam, we’ll have less of that kind of talk, please,’ Bess said sharply, stunned at the way this day was turning out. One minute filled with joy, the next plunging them all into arguments over what should be a happy announcement.
Bess could think for herself, and it was clear as moonlight that these two young ones loved each other. She saw the echo of herself and Hal in every glance, every gesture. Love crossed all the barriers…
‘Put it another way, then. You think I’m too good for Morwen, is that it?’ Ben went on relentlessly, his eyes firmly fixed on Sam’s face.
‘O’ course I don’t think that!’ Sam blustered now. ‘I think you’m a fine un wi’ words, Ben Killigrew—’
Morwen snapped at him. ‘Words! Words! I’m tired of all these words! Why are you so against us, Sam? I thought you of all people would be happy for us! You’ll have your new job, and you and Dora will have the cottage—’
‘If ’twas just me to consider, then I might be happy for ’ee, Morwen. But ’tis what other folk’ll think—’ Sam was less easy in his talk now, irritated that Ben’s taunts had made the younger boys snigger, and that he’d come off worse.
‘What do I care about other folks’ thoughts! Why does no one listen? ’Tis what Ben and me think that counts. Ben and me who want to be married—’
‘And so we shall be.’ Ben said furiously. ‘Have no fear of that, any of you! I don’t know how long it will take to make this stubborn family see sense, but no one will come between us, and as long as Morwen and me both know it, I don’t give a cuss what other folk think either!’
The sniggering died away, the boys looking at Hal uncertainly. This Ben Killigrew was somebody to look up to as much as their Daddy, and they all knew it. If they had always thought of him as just Charles Killigrew’s poncey son, come home from his London college to poke fun at his clodhopping clayworkers, they saw him differently now.
‘I’ll tell you something else,’ Morwen’s voice still shook with rage. ‘I believe Charles Killigrew already knows! In his poor slow way, he told me so. I didn’t understand it then, but he said to me “You and Ben”, and he was telling me he knew, and giving us his blessing. He knows, Daddy, and he’ll not stand in our way.’
She saw her parents exchange a glance, and Bess gave a small nod. Hal took a deep breath and spoke more calmly.
‘Then neither will we. But I entreat ’ee to wait awhile before letting it be public knowledge, that’s all. Folk have too much to think on already, so give ’em time to get used to the new way o’ things. ’Twill be shock enough to know we’m moving out, and all the other bits you’ve told us today, Ben. And if ’ee think we’ve been hard on ’ee both, ’tis only because we love our Morwen, and want what’s best for her, but I think we can all see that she already knows what that is—’
He said no more as Morwen gave a cry, and rushed to hug him and Bess, and it was as if Hal saw for the first time how beautiful his daughter was, and knew that it was Ben Killigrew who made her beautiful.
As always, the family took Hal’s lead, if grudgingly on the older boys’ part, for there were plans to be made, and young Freddie was threatened with all kinds of deprivations if he dared say one word of what had gone on here today.
Morwen marvelled at how quickly the mood changed again once the opposition was gone, and gradually the gaiety and effervescence of the Tremaynes drew Ben into their circle. At last the boys lost most of their resentment, and it was a cottage filled once more with love…
But they couldn’t remain much longer. Charles would be anxious to know of the day’s h
appenings, and as well as happy plans, there were more sombre ones too. Buryings had to be arranged before weddings, and it was only fit and proper that a few weeks should pass between the Penry send-off, and Sam and Dora’s marriage. Sam went off to Penwithick and brought Dora back before Morwen and Ben left for Killigrew House, and the wedding was planned immediately after the turn of the year.
‘A new year and a new beginning for all of us, Morwen,’ Ben said softly, as they finally left the cottage. One hand held the horse’s reins, the other clasped Morwen’s, fingers entwined. ‘If we have little time for ourselves in the busy weeks ahead, my love, always remember that I love you more than life. And long before spring comes again—’
‘I’m almost afraid to hear you say it, Ben,’ Morwen whispered. ‘I’m afraid I’m still dreaming—’
He leaned across and kissed her willing mouth. The tingling excitement of his touch raced through her veins, so long denied, so very wanted…
‘You’re not dreaming, love. Before the early blossom decks the trees, you’ll be mistress of Killigrew House. How does it sound to you?’ He spoke teasingly, to hide the surge of passion he felt. God knew he wanted her now. He needed her, ached for her. She filled his mind and inflamed his body. She was everything and more to him. He wondered if she had any idea of just how much he loved her…
He yearned to show her, to relive that one rapturous night when he had lain with her and made her irrevocably his. The ultimate in loving between a man and a woman… but he wanted it for all time, which was why he was prepared to wait, to know a restraint that was unusual to him, and all the more wondrous when he knew Morwen was his for the taking.
But he was learning more about himself, and he didn’t merely want to take. He wanted no hasty fusion of bodies that might mean guilty glances and the womanly fears that had made Celia Penry drown herself… he wanted more than that for Morwen. And with the odd little Cornish perception they both shared, he felt that she knew it without the telling.
Killigrew Clay Page 29
