Taken to Heart

by Jane Jackson

  ‘But you could have—’

  He shook his head. ‘Not in front of an audience.’

  ‘Don’t you want anyone to know?’

  ‘Do you do your giving in public?’

  She thought of how she had pressed Eddy Barnicoat not to tell Cora who had paid for her father’s funeral. ‘No,’ she admitted as they retraced their steps to the church.

  ‘Nor will I. Our agreement is a private matter: your time in exchange for my contribution to village charities.’ With so much happening it had slipped her mind. But he had not forgotten. ‘Though it appears my need of you is greater than either of us anticipated.’

  Their eyes met and she saw in his gaze recognition of a meaning that went far beyond the inconvenience of his sprained wrist.

  ‘Excuse me.’ As he walked briskly towards the porch, she followed more slowly, her heart beating fast as joy shimmered inside her. She had not imagined his interest.

  William emerged from the porch wearing his customary black coat and breeches.

  Charles offered him the purse. ‘A small contribution towards your school.’ Taking it, William glanced from the purse to its donor. He opened his mouth to speak but Charles raised a hand. ‘With my compliments.’ He made a brief bow then returned to Jenefer.

  ‘Thank you,’ William called.

  Taking her arm Charles guided her down the path.

  ‘I fear I may prove too expensive for you, Mr Polgray,’ Jenefer said, her tongue firmly in her cheek.

  ‘Miss Trevanion,’ he said drily, ‘you are … priceless.’

  ‘Perhaps you wish to renegotiate?’

  His dark brows climbed. ‘And forfeit my opportunity to support Porthinnis’s many worthy causes? Perish the thought. We made a bargain, did we not?’

  Jenefer nodded. ‘We did.’

  ‘Do you wish to withdraw?’

  His expression gave nothing away. But as she looked into his eyes and felt the irresistible attraction, there was only one possible answer. ‘No. No, I don’t.’

  Chapter Eleven

  After an uneventful run to Guernsey, spirits and tobacco, silk and lace wrapped in oilcloth, and wooden crates containing glassware and pretty china tea sets packed in straw had been swiftly unloaded then carried to isolated barns and ivy-shrouded sheds.

  While Jenefer worked by candlelight at her kitchen table compiling accounts, men moved, silent as shadows, along quiet lanes and through dark alleys collecting and delivering.

  She had more than enough work to fill each day. But for the first time since setting up her business maintaining concentration had become a struggle: one she was losing. All too often her thoughts strayed to Charles Polgray. She found herself replaying their conversations, reliving the hours spent in his company.

  It was five long days since he had escorted her home after church. She woke each morning wondering if today he might call on her to ask for help with additional correspondence, or perhaps to ask her to recommend masons or labourers.

  She tried to shake herself out of her preoccupation with him. Her life had been busy and fulfilling before he came. Why should it be any less so now? Yet it was.

  His arrival had shone light into dark corners of her life she had been too busy to notice or had tried to ignore. Only too aware of loneliness, she hadn’t known what to do about it. Accepting William’s offer of marriage, if he ever plucked up sufficient courage to propose, would have helped win back the good opinion of Porthinnis’s well-to-do. Yet she had managed very well without it. And it was certainly not a good enough reason for marrying.

  Anyway, she knew now that she could not marry William. There was nothing wrong with him. Indeed he was a good man who would make an excellent husband, but not for her. When he took her arm or offered his hand, she felt nothing.

  Meeting Charles Polgray’s gaze – his eyes were the colour of stormy seas – made her quake inside. When he reached across the table and covered her hand with his, her heart had clenched like a fist, stopping her breath in her throat while her blood sang and every nerve quivered in response to the sensation of his skin on hers. Having experienced that, she could not – would not – settle for less.

  So she worked on accounts at her kitchen table and waited for him to call. In the village on necessary errands she hoped to see him. She wanted him to need her. She wanted to be involved in the harbour expansion because the whole village would benefit, but also because it was his project. He had conceived it and would turn his vision into reality.

  As she walked briskly down the main street these hopes warred with a small warning voice that would not be ignored. When work on the harbour is complete he will leave. He has taken a house. For comfort and privacy. But he’s only renting. His stay here is temporary. Then she must make the most of each moment.

  She knocked on Louise Laity’s door.

  ‘Miss Trevanion,’ Louise beamed. ‘Come in, come in.’

  ‘Thank you, but I won’t stay.’

  ‘Won’t take me but a minute to put the kettle on.’ Louise opened the lower door wider. ‘I’m just refilling my trays. I got some beautiful silks, braids and ribbons, and a bolt of lace so fine he’s like cobwebs. Handsome, ’tis.’

  ‘I’m so pleased. Your customers will be too. I just called to let you know that two of the outstanding accounts have been settled.’

  ‘They have?’ Louise’s smile widened further. ‘That was quick. They letters you wrote certainly done the job. Much obliged to you, Miss, I’m sure.’

  With Louise’s gratitude ringing in her ears Jenefer continued down the road, bidding people good day, enquiring after sick relatives, and agreeing with hopes that the weather would remain fine until the last of the harvest was in.

  ‘I’m just putting up your groceries now,’ Hannah Tresidder greeted her as she entered the shop. ‘I s’pose you heard Mr Polgray have moved into Kegwyn?’

  Jenefer’s heart gave a little kick at the sound of his name. ‘Oh?’ she replied carefully. Hannah would be dreadfully disappointed if she said she already knew.

  ‘I’d have thought you’d know: you and he being connected through your father.’ She didn’t wait for a reply, bustling about behind the counter. ‘He’ve taken on Cora Eustace as cook-housekeeper. Couldn’t have come at a better time for Cora, dear of her. With her father’s being the last life on the lease of that cottage, she’d have been out on the street come end of the month. Rose said she seen Eddy Barnicoat taking Cora’s few bits of furniture up there on his cart.’ She shook tea scooped from a wooden chest onto brass scales. ‘In here this morning she was. Cora, not Rose. Looking ten years younger she is.’

  As Hannah paused for breath, Jenefer rested her basket on the counter. ‘I’m so glad for her. She’s had such a sad time.’

  Pouring the tea into a twist of paper, Hannah set it down beside Jenefer’s basket. ‘Too true. Anyhow, I asked her how mister was settling in. She said he seemed to like it. But she wouldn’t let on who else he got working up there. Said it wasn’t her place to say.’ Hannah clicked her tongue. ‘’Tisn’t no great secret, surely? Oh well, I’ll find out soon enough.’

  ‘I’m sure you will, Hannah,’ Jenefer agreed with a smile. There was no malice in Hannah. She simply liked to know.

  ‘I did hear her niece have started as housemaid,’ Hannah went on. ‘You remember Ellen Collins’s girl, Ruth? Quiet little thing she is, and a hard worker. Not that she had much choice, what with three younger brothers and Ellen dripping on and forever taking to her bed.’

  Checking the list she took a bundle of beeswax candles from a shelf and set them on the counter. ‘If you want to know what I think, ’tis a good job Ruth’s out of it. She’ll like working for Cora. Get on well they do. I always thought ’twas a pity Cora never had children. Want cheese, do you?’ As Jenefer blinked, caught out by the sudden change of subject, Hannah pointed to the big wheel of cheddar at one end of the counter with a narrow triangle cut out of it. ‘Fresh in, he is. Mrs Avers do dearly love a
bit of strong cheddar. Only ’tisn’t on your list.’

  ‘Oh. Isn’t it? Give me four ounces, please.’

  Cutting the cheese onto a piece of waxed paper then laying it on the scales and adjusting the weights, Hannah continued. ‘I reck’n Harry Tozer is doing the garden. I see ’n going down through the street each morning. Carrying a fork yesterday he was. And one of they curved hook things this morning. So it look like he’ve got some brave job on. And word is one of Mr Casvellan’s grooms have come down to be mister’s valet. You’d think he’d have hired someone from the village.’

  Jenefer bit back a smile. Knowing how swiftly village gossip spread, thanks mainly to Hannah, she understood very well why Charles Polgray had preferred to consult Branoc Casvellan regarding a valet. Perhaps he had made the enquiry on Sunday while she was talking to Roz. Strange, though, that he hadn’t brought his own man from home.

  It occurred to her that, in spite of the time they had spent in each other’s company, she had no idea where his home was. Presumably he had staff there. Hiring local staff for Kegwyn suggested he wished to maintain both properties. Didn’t I warn you? her inner voice demanded. As soon as the work is finished he’ ll leave. She pressed one hand to the sudden void in the pit of her stomach

  ‘That’s your list done. Anything else? Miss? Feeling all right are you?’

  Recoiling from an inevitability she didn’t want – couldn’t bear – to contemplate, Jenefer gave Hannah her attention. ‘I’m fine.’ She made herself smile. ‘Just trying to think of too many things at once. That’s all for now, thank you. How’s Percy?’

  Hannah rolled her eyes. ‘His chest is bad again. Had me up half the night with his coughing. Tried everything, I have. Butter, sugar and vinegar; honey and lemon juice in hot water. Bessie Richards said if I put sliced onions with layers of brown sugar and left the basin by the fire overnight it would make a syrup. Well, I done like she said and in the morning I gave Percy a couple of spoonfuls. But he couldn’t stomach it. Mind you, his breath would have stripped paint.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘Last time he was took bad, Mrs Casvellan sent me a bottle of mixture with linseed, coltsfoot and liquorice in it. Worked wonders for ’n it did. And he liked the taste. But ’tis all gone and she haven’t been in for weeks.’

  ‘She’s been really busy,’ Jenefer said. ‘You know what it’s like at harvest time with all the extra workers to feed. When I see her would you like me to ask for another bottle?’

  ‘Would you? I’d be some grateful,’ Hannah said. ‘If Percy isn’t no better tonight I’m going to try a poultice. And if that don’t work, he’s going out in the shed.’

  Jenefer laughed. ‘Oh Hannah, I do sympathize. Though that’s not much help.’ Picking up her basket, knowing Hannah would add the cost of the groceries to her account, she turned to the door as it opened and two women entered.

  As she started up the street she heard her name called. Recognizing William’s voice, she fought reluctance as she stopped and waited for him to reach her.

  ‘Good afternoon, William.’

  He bowed. ‘Miss Trevanion.’ A blush flooded his face and turned the tips of his ears red. ‘Jenefer. This is a happy surprise, and most opportune. May I escort you home?’

  She sighed inwardly, and smiled. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Allow me to take your basket. It looks much too heavy.’

  Once more she reminded herself that his insistence on treating her as if she were fragile and helpless – when he must know she was neither – was well meant, and she forfeited nothing by accepting his offer. ‘How kind.’ She handed it to him.

  As he felt the weight the shock on his face made her catch the inside of her lower lip between her teeth. She averted her head, laughter trembling in her chest.

  ‘Miss Trevanion, Jenefer—?’ He paused to clear his throat.

  Exasperation replaced amusement as she turned on him. ‘William, it really isn’t necessary for you to address me with such formality. It is several months since I invited you to use my first name as a token of our friendship.’

  ‘And I did – do – appreciate it. It’s just’ − his voice was low and intense as his complexion reddened − ‘I cannot – nor should I – forget the peculiarity of your circumstances. You and I in our different ways have to be particularly careful regarding public perception. You must know I have always been deeply appreciative of your help regarding the school, and of your friendship. You cannot be in any doubt about my regard for you. And it is that regard, that fondness’ − his gaze slid away and his face was now crimson, his upper lip beaded with perspiration − ‘which urges me to what you consider an unnecessary formality. But I must lead by example. And I would rather be thought stuffy and old-fashioned than offer you public insult by appearing over-familiar.’

  Yet again Jenefer was torn between affection and sympathy for him and impatience at his pedantry. ‘You are indeed most considerate, William. But—’

  ‘Forgive me,’ he cut in urgently. ‘I know this is not the ideal time. But I have not seen you since last Sunday.’

  ‘I’ve been particularly busy this week. No doubt you have too,’ she said, stopping as they reached the alley leading to her cottage.

  ‘Exactly. So now that I have your undivided attention,’ − he gave a sweet, shy smile − ‘I must take advantage.’

  Sudden foreboding tightened Jenefer’s stomach. ‘William, I really don’t think this is the time or place—’

  He glanced round. ‘There is no one to overhear.’

  ‘Even so.…’

  ‘I have no wish to make you uncomfortable, Miss— Jenefer, but I would be failing in my duty – ‘

  Relief weakened her legs. Whatever he wished to say, it would not be a proposal of marriage. That she could have imagined William capable of such a spontaneous act was an indication of her turmoil. Since meeting Charles Polgray her emotions had grown more volatile with each passing day.

  ‘Then by all means, William, do your duty and say what is in your mind.’ Seeing the uncertainty in his expression she regretted the edge to her voice. The fact that she was tired was not a good enough excuse. He looked past her into the alley and she wondered if it was to ensure no one was coming, or because he wanted to accompany her to her door. He would not offer. He knew, as she did, that were her neighbours to see this particular attention they would inevitably assume the beginning of a deeper connection.

  Charles Polgray had dined with her. Then they had worked alone in her kitchen until twilight.

  William cleared his throat, regaining her attention. ‘As a minister it is my duty to welcome Mr Polgray to Porthinnis. His contributions to village causes have been particularly welcome. First his donation to the school, then another yesterday to one of the overseers, Mr Hocking, to be used for the benefit of the village’s poor and sick. Such generosity from a stranger is rare indeed.’

  Jenefer had to look away, fearing he might wonder at the intensity of her pleasure. Let down by her father and the man he had arranged for her to marry, a man living a double life of which she had known nothing, she had become wary of trusting. But Charles Polgray was a man of his word.

  ‘However,’ William’s tone snagged her attention, forcing her to concentrate. ‘As someone with your best interests at heart I must question the wisdom of your … connection with this man who is, after all, a newcomer of whom we know nothing.’

  Fighting anger that surprised her with its heat, Jenefer opened her mouth to point out how much benefit the village would gain from the harbour expansion. Just in time she remembered her promise to Charles not to speak of the project until he had the finance in place.

  ‘What is it you wish to know, William? Mr Polgray inherited Pednbrose as my late father’s heir. Knowing the speed at which news spreads in the village, I would be astonished if you were not already aware of that.’

  William’s cheeks coloured once more. ‘Well, yes, I had heard. But that does not explain why he is still here. Or indeed why he has
moved into Mr Trembath’s property.’

  Jenefer shrugged. ‘Perhaps he intends to rebuild Pednbrose. You question the time I spend with Mr Polgray. As the school is closed during harvest, I have no pupils to teach. That aside, I should not need to remind you that I am answerable to no one but myself. Who I choose to see or spend my time with is no one else’s business.’

  ‘Please don’t be angry with me. I have your best interests at heart.’

  ‘Indeed?’ Anger spiked as she eyed him. ‘You are happy to accept Mr Polgray’s donations. Yet you question his motives. I find such cynicism unbecoming.’

  ‘And I fear,’ he whispered fiercely, as emotion flamed his face and whitened his lips, ‘you have been seduced by his wealth.’

  Jenefer had reached the end of her patience. ‘You insult me, sir,’ she snapped, furious and indignant. ‘I have no interest in anyone else’s money. I am, as you well know, perfectly capable of supporting myself. Indeed I am proud to do so.’ Taking her basket from his hand, she dropped a brief and very stiff curtsy. ‘Good afternoon.’

  As she turned away she glimpsed his face, now ashen and wretchedly miserable.

  Charles laid down the pen and massaged his bandaged hand. He shouldn’t be writing. Checking off the tasks completed, listing everything that still needed to be done, then rewriting the list in order of priority had seemed a sensible idea when he began. But as additional points occurred and needed inclusion, the end result was concern at the scale of the task he had undertaken and a renewed ache in his wrist.

  Why had he not sent a note to Jenefer asking her to come? He always worked alone. He preferred doing whatever was necessary in the manner he considered best. He had no wish to be beholden to anyone. The time she had spent helping him must have delayed her own work.

  All were legitimate reasons, but they weren’t the real one. His desire to see her was a constant distracting ache. She was unlike any woman he had ever met. This strength of attraction to someone he had known for such a short time was deeply unnerving.