by Gloria Cook
‘I know all about the dark side of this kinsman of mine,’ Kit interjected. ‘It’s time I introduced myself to him. Are you sure you ladies are safe here?’
‘It’s none of your business, Mr Woodburne.’ Tara went redder, with anger. Between them Sarah and this man had caused her to lose her dignity and now she was even more worried about the predicament of Joshua, and his lover’s actions. ‘As it is, we’ll be leaving here as soon as my husband is well again.’
Kit was unconcerned by the rebuke, many a thought ticked away inside his head as he witnessed the anxiety in the eyes of both women. ‘It will be interesting to get to know the fellow.’
‘Be careful of him, Kit,’ Sarah warned.
‘There is no need for you to worry. I shall see if I can do something about Laketon Kivell.’
‘Why should you want to concern yourself with Poltraze’s problem?’ Tara asked bluntly. She knew the answer, he saw Sarah as more than a friend. He was out to impress her. Perhaps he intended to put a bride into his new house. Sarah was from a humble background but she would grace any house.
‘I like to see justice done, but most of all I want to see Sarah safe and content. You too, ma’am, if you’ll allow me to befriend you,’ Kit said seriously. He was looking forward to the challenge. He had rid himself of his taunting bullying nursemaid, and to rid these two delightful women of a deadly threat would fill him with satisfaction. Grandmama Tempest and the other Kivells would approve. Laketon was an embarrassment to the Kivell name. ‘I know I have used deception in the recent past but you can trust me.’
‘What do you think, Tara?’
‘Well, it would be a tremendous relief to see Kivell put out of here for good’ – she stared at Kit with hope and dread – ‘but the thought of you trying to do so frightens me. He’s very vindictive. I believe the man’s quite mad.’
‘Don’t worry, Mrs Nankervis, I have years of successful bluff at the card table to call on. I shall patiently learn the right ploy to attempt to unseat him.’
After he had gone, with the intention of roaming the grounds to seek out his quarry, Tara was in no mood to stitch scented sachets. Pacing up and down, pausing to gaze anxiously out of the windows, she cried, ‘I should never have agreed to let that man do what he is about. If he fails, and that is very likely as Kivell is far too shrewd, it could bring the whole house down. He may punish Joshua again. Anyone in the house could be in danger. Perhaps I should send Rosa Grace away. I don’t want to risk any harm coming to her. She was greatly distressed by Hobbs jumping out of the window. I tried to suppress the facts but servants’ gossip spreads as quickly as a disease. I don’t want any more harm to come to you, Sarah. I’ll arrange for you to accompany Rosa Grace to Truro immediately.’
‘I won’t go, Tara,’ Sarah said firmly. ‘Send Rosa Grace away with her nanny if you must, but I shall stay here with you. Jowan is due here this week, and if Mama Tempest is called on to help Kit, then Laketon will have the might of the Kivells against him.’
‘You’re very fond of Kit Woodburne, and he you,’ Tara glowered. ‘Is there anything between you?’
‘In what way?’ Sarah frowned at the question and Tara’s manner. ‘I know you are worried and that you don’t approve of Kit coming here but there’s no need to get mazed.’
‘Mazed? What does that mean?’ Tara saw her folly and herself as unreasonable. ‘Forgive me, Sarah. I’m fearful there are romantic feelings between you and Mr Woodburne, and that I might soon be denied of your company. I’d hate to lose you now. But your personal life is none of my business.’ Sarah was smiling at her and suddenly she was smiling too.
‘Tara, Kit is the son of my late husband, I couldn’t possibly think of him in that way. I’m pleased to have him as a friend. Like you, I took an instant dislike to Kit but now I know him I would trust him with my life. Mama Tempest explained things to me. Because of his loveless childhood Kit needed to blame someone for his miseries. As soon as he was shown some concern he responded to it rather like a child. He was vulnerable, still is really. Kit has a lot of honour, Tara, and he’s strong and clever. This is your best chance to rid Poltraze of its devil, don’t let anything ruin that.’
‘You could be right. If I send Rosa Grace away Kivell might get suspicious, he knows we’re inseparable. Anyway, Mr Woodburne may decide to do nothing and I don’t want to send Rosa Grace without a good reason. We must go on as usual but keep very much on our guard.’
Kit walked along the path beside the croquet lawn, taking little notice of the renewed shrubberies; the plants were protected against the winter winds and frosts with circles of sacking. He hoped if he wandered about the grounds long enough he’d come across Laketon Kivell. The hothouses were the best bet. There was a pair of curious-looking trees and he stopped and stared at them. The trees were not tall, and their trunks were rather narrow and had a crisscross arrangement building up to coarse tufts under huge spreading leaves like those of the palm. ‘How very strange …’
‘Can I help you?’ Someone with a strident voice was coming up fast beside him.
Kit gazed nonchalantly towards the voice’s owner. The two men of similar dark rugged features sized each other up. With wary eyes wandering about Kit’s person, Laketon said, ‘You, sir, can be none other than Kit Woodburne. I suppose you will know who I am? Should I be pleased to make your acquaintance?’
‘I hope you will find it so,’ Kit replied lightly. The gardener exuded an insidious reptilian quality. He half-expected him to flick out a long, forked tongue. ‘I was actually wandering about in the hope of meeting you at last. Would you mind telling me the name of these fascinating trees?’
‘Not at all, they’re Berberis, this species is monkey puzzle, from Chile,’ Laketon informed him proudly. ‘So called because it’s said monkeys are puzzled about how to climb them. Have you never seen the like before?’
‘Nothing like these, Mr Kivell.’ Kit smiled warmly into the other man’s eyes. To get rid of this garden pest he first had to get him to trust him. ‘You may be aware I’m having my own property built. I would be delighted if the gardens ended up as well as Poltraze’s once were. I regret that I did not see them in their heyday, but I can see the old glory reflected here and there and that you are getting everything under control again.’
‘I’m doing my best. Would you care for me to show you around?’
Kit knew this was a ploy to study him as much as an opportunity to show off. ‘That’s good of you.’ He strolled off with his hands behind his back. ‘I’m afraid I know little about plants and flowers. I just like to admire their pleasing effect. My grandmother told me you are responsible for the establishment of her garden. I congratulate you on its beauty. I find it peaceful there. Tell me, Laketon, how you came by such a love of the earth.’
Kit could tell Laketon was as puzzled about him as a monkey was about the trees they were leaving. Laketon would know him as a liar, and that his earlier plan for Burnt Oak meant he could be a hard man underneath the agreeable manner he was portraying. Laketon would soon experience that side of him.
Fifteen
‘What the blazes! I’ve had enough of this day in and day out.’ Michael ripped the spectacles off his long learned nose and leapt up from the red leather club chair. ‘I’ll have it stopped.’ Until the noise of the carpentry had started up again he had been almost as still as the rows of antiquated books in the darkened musty library. Seated at the long table, copying up his notes on the Nankervis history during Tudor times, was his bride-to-be, Adeline Phillipps.
‘But can you order it to be stopped, dear? The work has to go ahead, I suppose,’ the bespectacled and wafer-thin Adeline said, in her strange floating speech. Behind her, the fireplace was carefully lit and attended so as not to harm the precious books and maps, and the butterfly and moth collections. The plaster mantelpiece was an ugly affair featuring faces of Nankervis children who had died young. In dark basic clothes, Adeline was waxen pale and ghost-like and looked as i
f she only had to step back to be incorporated into the grim tableau. She never seemed to mind anything, and had the enviable ability to shut herself off from the world.
Michael found her uninspiring and he did not lust to take her to bed, but after enduring the incessant nagging of his first wife, Adeline was perfect for him. It was good to have a woman who, apart from sharing the same interests, rarely sought to offer an opinion. God willing, she would bear him a healthy son. He had come to think his life would be complete if he was squire of Poltraze. Strangely, that prospect, which he had never wanted the responsibility of before, seemed a not unlikely occurrence. Joshua was slowly killing himself – or rather Laketon Kivell was doing it for him. The only work to be done anywhere on the estate then would be at his behest. ‘I suppose you are right, my dear, but how is one to concentrate with all this hammering and scratching going on? I shall have a word with Tara. She omitted to tell me the repairs were going ahead in the morning room. It was not her place to order it to be done.’
‘That was disrespectful of her, dear. Mrs Nankervis takes too much upon herself.’ Adeline only glanced up briefly from her labour.
‘She does indeed, my dear. I shall see that it comes to a stop. I have other issues with her also.’
Satisfied and encouraged by her loyalty, he left on determined strides but closed the door in whisper quietness. Adeline didn’t seem to be aware he had gone.
‘Tara, I want a word with you this minute.’ Michael barged into the winter parlour, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the heady fusion of rose and lavender scents.
‘It seems you do,’ Tara snapped from the sewing table. ‘But I will not listen while you are in such an aggressive mood.’ She continued to fill a china pomander with potpourri, hiding her surprise that her normally placid brother-in-law was being so rude. She couldn’t imagine what he had come to gripe about.
‘Damn it, Tara, you will heed me, and alone if you please. Perhaps your companion could withdraw for ten minutes.’ He grimaced at Sarah, although not without fleetingly admiring her dark beauty. He certainly wouldn’t mind spending a covert afternoon with her.
Sarah headed for the door. ‘I’ll come back in a while,’ she said, worried that Tara was in for an upset.
Up on her feet, Tara glared at Michael. ‘How dare you come in here and throw your weight about like a ruffian and order Miss Hichens away!’
‘The girl is a Kivell and she is part of the two complaints I have against you. Damn it, Tara, you are filling the house with Kivells. It’s bad enough that we have to endure a Kivell as Joshua’s lover, who does exactly as he pleases, now you not only have the widow of the most infamous of that ragbag clan living here, you are freely inviting one of their bastard breed here too, a man who masquerades as a gentleman, a rogue who admits to being an impostor, and who probably should be incarcerated in an asylum. Damn it, Tara, he was speaking to our daughter for some time the other day. Don’t you care?’
‘Mr Woodburne was talking to Rosa Grace? Where was this?’ Tara was not troubled, rather she found herself pleased by the information.
‘Her nursemaid was taking her outside for a walk. Woodburne engaged both in conversation and even allowed Rosa Grace to show him her doll. He had no right to go anywhere near her.’
‘Well, he takes more notice of Rosa Grace than you do. No doubt you shot away to avoid being delayed from your precious books. I have no fears about Mr Woodburne’s integrity.’
‘Then you are a fool, Tara. And you have had the audacity to engage a carpenter in the house, a Kivell at that. Joshua left that sort of thing to me years ago!’ The more he went on the more Tara expected to see steam blowing out of his ears. ‘None of it is appropriate. I demand that you behave as the wife of the squire should. You’re making Poltraze a laughing stock. My dear fiancée finds it all very strange.’
‘I’m not in the least interested in what Miss Phillipps thinks. She will quickly discover being a Nankervis wife offers no advantages. You are the one who does not see to his duties. I’ve asked you many times to arrange to have the panelling in the morning room repaired. Joshua kindly asked me recently if all was well with the house and I mentioned the repair to him. He sent word for the steward to take the appropriate course. It was Atkins who engaged Jowan Kivell, as the best craftsman for the task, and not I. Before you intrude on me again in such a vulgar manner do get your facts right. You would have known about the woodwork if you’d had the courtesy to call on Joshua since he came out of his delirium. You care about no one except yourself, Michael. If you have finished, go!’
‘Don’t think to try to degrade me, Tara. I won’t put up with it.’ He wagged a finger at her. ‘Poltraze was once a quiet place and it will be again.’ He turned on his heel and strode out, going straight up to Joshua.
Cheek of the man! Tara balled her fists. He hated Laketon Kivell’s dominance here but he did not have the courage or foresight to do anything about dislodging him. Michael had no use in the world. What was the point in delving into the Nankervis history? It didn’t have a particularly glorious past and its future was doubtful. The moment Joshua was well she would take Rosa Grace and Sarah to Truro and nothing would induce her to return.
She went to the window. Kivell was out there somewhere, giving orders to the gardeners as if he was the squire. Kit Woodburne had befriended the wretch to glean a way of dealing with him. He would do anything for Sarah. Tara bit her lip, she hoped he would take things very carefully and not put himself or others into danger.
She shuddered. Pray God, Kivell did not take an intimate interest in him. Kit was amazingly handsome. Kivell probably was attracted to him. She was attracted to him, if she would only admit it. No, I’m not, she stressed to her reflection in the windowpane. My interest in him lies solely in the fact that he is the only hope of ridding Poltraze of its beast. She turned back in the room to recall him chatting with Sarah and smiling at her on her subsequent visits. He had a nice smile, well a stunning smile actually. He did not try to include Tara in their conversation, merely being polite to her. She hated to know it but it rankled. There was no need for her to stay offhand with him, particularly now she knew he had a heart to be fond of children. It would be good to be his friend too.
Joshua gingerly pushed back the bedcovers. He felt as weak as water and his muscles ached without mercy. He was able to sit up on the couch for part of each day but now he was in bed and supposed to be taking a nap. This time he had ordered the nurse out of the room, saying he could not easily fall asleep with her clinging presence. Screwing up his face in the effort to sit up, he inched his heavy legs to flop down over the edge of the bed. Everything was an effort. His chest still hurt from the infection, his sandpaper-dry mouth retained a bitter taste and he sweated all day and night.
He took a minute to allow his head to clear, then bending to the doors of the bedside cabinet he opened them, and with his head spinning, searched about until he found the pair of nail scissors he had furtively procured from the nurse that morning. He got back into bed, pulled up the covers, making sure the scissors were hidden, and lay panting to recover. The scissors were small with curved tips but they were good enough to open up the veins in his wrists and enable him to bleed to death. The nurse would ensure he wouldn’t be disturbed, so this suicide attempt should be a successful one.
He had been planning it for days. It was the only way he could find the peace he longed for and get revenge on Laketon Kivell, the man he hated more than all the powers of hell for seducing the boy he had loved. Tara would have her wish and thanks to the conditions of her dowry she and her child would be well provided for. Death was the only way out of his misery. Even if Laketon was to meet his end first, he couldn’t go on knowing what he had become, a snivelling, useless wreck of a man, conned by a velvet-smooth valet.
He felt about one wrist to determine the best place to make the first cut. He opened the scissors and put the point into place. He wouldn’t be able to make a quick job of it but he wa
s determined to go ahead, not caring about the pain. He paused and whispered, ‘God forgive me. Please take me into Your arms.’
The bedroom door opened and he whipped the scissors beneath his body. He could have screamed. Must he be thwarted at everything? His rapid movements were a giveaway that he was not asleep.
‘Joshua, may I come in?’ Michael called softly. ‘I’ve slipped past the nurse. I need to talk to you.’
‘For a moment, if you must.’ Joshua could not keep the irritation out of his voice. Damn his brother to hell! Of all the times to finally come to him, and then only for his own ends … Michael and everyone else didn’t really care about him. How he hated this life and craved to be out of it.
Michael tiptoed to the bedside. ‘Sorry to disturb you. Just a quick word, are you allowing Tara to give orders concerning the estate?’
‘Tara’s been good to me. She’s the only one I can trust. She may do exactly what she pleases. There, that’s your answer. Now leave me in peace.’ Joshua shifted, pushing his body into the mattress. ‘Ouch!’ God in heaven, how could he have forgotten the scissors?
‘What is it?’ Joshua’s feeble face was twisted in so much pain that Michael flung back the bedcovers. ‘Is it your back? I’ll fetch the nurse.’
‘It’s nothing! I don’t want her making a fuss.’ The scissor points were sticking into him but Joshua would bear it until Michael left the room.
‘Maybe you don’t want a fuss but something hurt you very badly. Has that monster been beating you again?’ Joshua struggled against him but Michael was determined to learn the facts. Gathering Joshua up to face him he looked down at his back. The blood in Michael’s veins ran cold. ‘My God, you’ve been impaled by a pair of scissors. Is Kivell making you lie on sharp things to torture you?’
‘No,’ Joshua wailed. ‘It’s an accident. The nurse must have left the scissors behind. Don’t say anything, I beg you, Michael. Laketon will go into a rage. He’ll have the nurse thrown out and have me guarded more tightly. I’ll be even more of a prisoner. Don’t say anything to anyone, please!’
