by Jane Jackson
He nodded. ‘I hope soon to satisfy at least part of it.’ Glancing up from the papers he held he indicated the teapot. ‘Would you be so kind? My wrist – I’m too likely to drop something.’
‘Of course.’ As she leaned forward and placed the silver strainer over one of the cups she could see the fine tremor in her hand. She did not look up and he made no comment. She poured tea into the cup nearest him, adding the merest dash of milk and no sugar. Moving the cup and saucer within his reach she glanced up, met his gaze, and realized what she had done.
‘Exactly as I like it,’ he murmured.
‘One of the benefits of a good memory,’ she said lightly, then bent her head, hoping the brim of her hat hid her face as she poured her own. The cup rattled against her teeth, but the hot tea soothed her dry throat and calmed her nerves.
He offered the plate of shortbread. ‘Please, you must have something.’ As Jenefer began to shake her head he added, ‘You will not wish to hurt Mrs Eustace’s feelings.’
Jenefer gave a gasp of laughter. ‘That’s blackmail.’
He nodded. ‘It’s desperation.’
Enjoying his teasing and recognizing the kindness beneath it, she took a piece of shortbread. ‘You mentioned replies?’
‘This one is from John Macadam,’ he said, lifting a buttered scone. ‘It concerns construction of the new road and is very detailed. I’m sure you don’t—’
‘I most certainly do.’ Jenefer replaced her cup on its saucer. ‘What does he suggest?’ Her cheeks grew warm and she held her breath as he looked into her eyes.
‘You really are the most.…’ he began softly, then caught himself, cleared his throat and dropped his gaze to the paper in his hand. ‘He advises firming the subsoil and shaping it to the finished camber, digging side ditches to drain the road bed, then applying a layer one foot thick of small broken granite between two and two and a half inches in diameter.’
Jenefer waited, then asked, ‘Is that all?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, does he not specify some kind of binding material?’
Charles shook his head, swallowing a mouthful of scone. ‘None is necessary. Apparently dust created by the wheels of wagons grinding the stones together will fill all the gaps.’
She finished her shortbread and sipped her tea as he read letters from Mrs Crago at Talvan Quarry in Penryn confirming a supply of dressed granite blocks for the quay extension, and several tons of cheaper moorstone for the mole.
‘This one’ − he lifted the third letter − ‘is from Penryn ship-broker Thomas Trenerry, quoting for shipments of two-inch granite stones at a very fair price.’
‘Which will you build first?’ Jenefer asked. ‘Hopefully harvest will be finished within a few days, before the weather changes.’
‘How do you know it’s going to change? Are you a witch?’
Laughing, she shook her head. ‘Late October always brings rain and gales. And once the weather breaks it will probably remain unsettled.’
‘Then the sooner we can get the mole constructed the greater the protection for the quay. The problem is, I also need the new road as soon as possible so I can transfer our cargo business here from Hayle. I doubt the village will be able to supply enough labour.’
‘Then why not ask the miners?’
‘Miners?’ he repeated blankly.
Jenefer nodded. ‘They lost their jobs when the copper market collapsed. At least twenty have been coming in from outlying villages to help with the harvest, though being skilled men they loathe farm labour. I know some mines are pumping out in preparation for re-opening. But that will take time. Meanwhile these men still have to feed their families. I imagine many of them would be only too glad of any work you could offer.’
He studied her through narrowed eyes, his expression unreadable.
Unused to such scrutiny, and acutely self-conscious, she felt her skin grow hot. ‘Is something wrong, Mr Polgray?’
He shook his head slowly. ‘I was just wondering how I managed before I met you.’
Pleasure arrowed through her leaving a shimmering wake of pride. But just in case he had been teasing she nodded. ‘It must have been difficult.’ Seeing his mouth quiver as he tried to suppress a smile kindled a warm glow inside her.
‘You have no idea,’ he murmured.
Leaning down she lifted the two jars of quince jelly from her basket and placed them on the table, then rose to her feet.
Immediately he stood, a slight frown between his brows. ‘Must you go?’
‘I think it best,’ she said quietly. ‘I have been here over an hour.’ Never had time sped by so swiftly.
‘What has that to do – ‘
‘Come now, Mr Polgray. Don’t be obtuse. You cannot imagine my arrival here went unobserved?’
‘I beg your pardon. Of course I understand. It’s just—’ Raking his hair, he gazed towards the window for a moment then turned to her. ‘I shall walk you home.’
‘It’s kind of you to offer, but quite unnecessary.’
‘Kindness, Miss Trevanion, has nothing to do with it. You say you must go, but there is another matter I need to discuss with you. And no, it won’t wait. We can talk on the way. Excuse me. I will fetch my hat and gloves.’
Leaving the house, they passed Harry Tozer trimming back the overgrown hedge with a pair of shears. As they passed he paused, politely touched the brim of his cap, and immediately resumed his work. He didn’t smirk or wink or betray the slightest interest, and for that Jenefer could have hugged him.
They walked side by side down the road towards the harbour. Though they did not touch, Jenefer was very aware of him beside her, deliberately slowing his stride to her pace.
‘Miss Trevanion.’ He cleared his throat. ‘The letter I did not have time to read to you is from Mr Daniell.’
Jenefer looked at him quickly. ‘Mr Ralph Daniell, the banker?’
He nodded. ‘I have an appointment with him the day after tomorrow. And it occurred to me – that is, I was wondering if you might care to ride with me to Truro. You might enjoy the opportunity to do some shopping, or indeed,’ he added quickly, ‘pay a business call or two. Then we could have a late dinner and tell each other of our respective successes.’
She gazed at him, stunned by his invitation and wanting more than anything to accept. Then hot colour flooded her face as she wondered about his motive and hated herself for doubting him.
‘You must be aware that the distance makes it impossible for us to return the same day.’
‘Of course. But you may be assured of a comfortable private room at The Red Lion. I usually stay at The Bull, opposite the Coinagehall, as its popularity with mine owners and ship captains enables me to catch up with all the news. I would call for you after breakfast for our ride back to Helston.’
Weak with relief, Jenefer glanced up at him. ‘I really appreciate you asking me, and I’m grateful for your consideration—’
‘But,’ he said, forestalling her. His expression had hardened, becoming withdrawn and aloof. Far from being intimidated, she smiled inwardly, knowing him better now.
‘I would have liked nothing better than to accompany you,’ she said, speaking from her heart. ‘And were it only a matter of pleasing myself, I would happily set my work aside for two days. But harvest is almost finished and I promised to help Roz with the harvest dinner. Tamara – Mrs Varcoe – is soon to be confined so Roz will be shorthanded. There is another reason: one I think you must recognize. My absence occurring at the same time as yours is sure to be noticed. Mrs Avers, Mrs Penkivell and others in their circle make frequent trips to Truro. Mrs Penkivell is not among my admirers and would enjoy nothing better than to spin a scandal out of seeing us together. The most important thing right now is the harbour expansion. That is the reason you are going to Truro. Gossip and scandal, no matter how unfounded, might cause problems. That is the last thing you need.’
He looked down at her. ‘I should never have
— It was selfish and thoughtless of me.’
‘Sshh.’ Jenefer touched his arm lightly. ‘I can’t go. But I’m not sorry you asked me.’
Reaching her cottage he remained on the threshold while she dropped her basket on the table and crouched to open the fire door on the range. Taking a spill from the pewter vase on the hearth she pushed it through the bars, shielded the flame with her cupped hand, and lit the candle left in readiness in the centre of the table. Then she returned to the open door where he waited.
‘Thank you for escorting me home.’
‘It was my pleasure. Perhaps, on my return from Truro.… He stopped and turned his head away, gazing across the cobbled yard to the stone wall and the gardens beyond.
As the silence stretched she took a breath. ‘I know how important this meeting is so I’d very much appreciate hearing the outcome. When you get back, if you have time, perhaps you might call? I’m usually here.’ She shrugged. ‘Most often found behind a stack of ledgers.’ Why didn’t he say something? Her skin prickled the way it did before a thunderstorm.
He turned back to her, his features taut. She waited. Suddenly the conflict that gripped him melted away.
‘You may depend upon it.’
She nodded. ‘Goodbye, then.’
He gazed at her for a moment then caught her right hand and raised it to his lips. Releasing it, he made a brief bow and strode briskly away, his boots loud and firm on the cobbles.
Closing the door, Jenefer leaned against the wood, cradling her right hand against her breast, still feeling the soft warmth of his mouth on her knuckles.
Her head told her she had done the right thing by declining. But her heart wished she were going with him. It was unlikely there would be another opportunity. If his meeting with the financier was successful, and for his sake and that of the village she hoped it was, then work would begin in earnest. His wrist was mending. Soon he would no longer need her help. She would miss—
A rapping on the door made her jump. ‘You home, bird? George Laity come round earlier hoping to see you about some nets.’
With a sigh and a smile, Jenefer turned and lifted the latch. ‘Yes, Lizzie, I’m home.’
Chapter Thirteen
Charles followed the black-clad clerk, mentally preparing himself for some tough negotiating. He had spent the previous evening reviewing projections of costs and income. Even by conservative estimates the expansion was a sound investment. Knowing this steadied him as the clerk knocked then opened a panelled door. ‘Mr Polgray, sir.’ He withdrew quietly, closing the door behind him.
Charles saw panelled walls, walnut armchairs, a Turkish carpet, and a tall cabinet with glass-fronted bookshelves. It was a comfortable well-appointed room equally conducive to business discussions or solitary thought.
A stocky man in his early forties whose brown hair was streaked with silver at the temples, Ralph Daniell rose from his chair behind a kneehole desk of burr walnut inlaid with dark green leather. His blue coat fitted perfectly and a diamond pin sparkled in the snowy folds of his neckcloth.
‘Good morning to you, Mr Polgray.’ His handshake was firm, his smile welcoming. ‘Another lovely day. And fine weather is always good for business.’
‘Indeed,’ Charles agreed, glimpsing in Daniell’s gaze the shrewd businessman behind the hearty façade.
‘Please.’ Daniell indicated a chair angled a short distance from his desk. As Charles sat, resting the leather satchel containing all his paperwork against the chair leg, Daniell resumed his own seat. Leaning back he supported his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepled his fingers. ‘What can I do for you, Mr Polgray?’
Charles had outlined the expansion plan in his letter when requesting the meeting. He knew Daniell would have made enquiries before agreeing to see him, just as he had considered other possibilities before deciding to approach The Cornish Bank. The question appeared superfluous. But Charles had expected it.
Daniell would listen to the presentation then balance his impressions against his own assessment of the project and ability of the man behind it to bring it to fruition. In Daniell’s place he would do exactly the same.
‘As I wrote in my letter,’ Charles spoke quietly and with confidence, ‘I intend building port facilities and expanding Porthinnis harbour to handle exports of copper and imports of coal. My intention is also to increase two-way trade in general cargo. Our own company Kerrow & Polgray has already provided a proportion of the necessary capital. But I need more. What I am seeking from you is an unsecured loan of fifteen thousand pounds.’
‘Over what period?’
‘Three years.’
Daniell pursed his lips. ‘The copper market is only just coming out of a major depression.’
Charles nodded, crossing his legs and resting his folded hands on his thigh. ‘During which Kerrow & Polgray’s copper and silver mines continued operating. Those that shut down and were allowed to fill with water will require weeks, perhaps months, of pumping out before work can resume. Meanwhile our mine is producing copper and the price of Cornish ore is climbing steadily.’
‘True. However, my understanding is that Kerrow & Polgray is still burdened with the annual engine dues.’ He raised a hand before Charles could speak. ‘I’m aware they were halved during the worst of the depression to keep as many mines as possible in work. But with the price for copper ore rising, understandably Boulton & Watt are anxious to recoup the money they are owed. This means an increase in dues.’
Charles knew Ralph Daniell and his partners had invested heavily in Boulton & Watt’s steam engines. They would have pressed hard for the increase.
‘Under those circumstances,’ Daniell continued, ‘you must see that an unsecured loan is simply not possible.’
It had been worth a try. But, as he had never expected agreement, Charles was not disappointed. Now the real bargaining would begin.
‘So,’ Daniell said, regarding him steadily, ‘what security can you offer?
‘I have obtained a twenty-year renewable lease on the harbour. I’m willing to assign it to you.’
Daniell’s brief gesture was dismissive. ‘It will be of no value if the venture fails. I’m sure you understand my need to protect the bank’s money.’
‘And I want to build a thriving business. Despite the repayment of engine dues there is substantial money to be made in copper mining and smelting if the company is efficient. Kerrow & Polgray have an excellent reputation in that regard, as you will no doubt have learned.’
Daniell tipped his head, acknowledging the point.
‘The expansion of Porthinnis harbour,’ Charles continued, ‘will provide long-term employment for a large portion of the local community. Naturally, they will be made aware of your assistance and interest in the venture.’
A smile flickered across Daniell’s mouth. ‘That would be greatly appreciated. But we are not philanthropists, Mr Polgray. You are asking us to take a considerable risk. That being the case, you must give us something in return.’
As Daniell paused, appearing to think, Charles knew what was coming. He knew because had their positions been reversed he would have made the same demand. He wished there might have been an alternative. But there wasn’t.
‘I understand you inherited an estate above the harbour,’ Daniell said. ‘Pednbrose? After receiving your letter I took the liberty of having the property valued and the sum mentioned was twelve thousand. So my proposal is this: I will lend you eight at nine per cent in return for which you assign the deeds of the estate to us. These will be restored to you when the loan is paid off in full.’
‘In that case,’ Charles said calmly, ‘eight thousand is not enough. I want the full fifteen. You can have the deeds to the estate, plus the lease on the harbour.’
Daniell shook his head. ‘The lease is no use to me. I’ll take the deeds to the estate and increase my offer to ten, provided repayment is made in two years.’
‘No, I can get ten thousand in two years
anywhere with these.’ Charles opened his leather satchel and withdrew a bundle of folded papers tied with thin red ribbon. Knowing Daniell would demand security against any loan he had collected them from Steven on his way here. ‘My estate is worth twelve thousand and that’s what I want. But I will accept two years.’
‘I would have to put that to the board, and they would not accept it.’
Charles recognized the tactic and knew how to deal with it. ‘I beg your pardon.’ He was cool. ‘I assumed you spoke for your board and were empowered to make the decision. If that is not the case, perhaps you would arrange for me to talk to those who can decide?’
The banker sat forward, resting his fingertips on the edge of the desk and looking slightly flushed. After shaking his head slowly he smiled and stood up. ‘Twelve thousand in two years.’ He offered his hand.
Charles paused as if considering the offer. But having done his research he knew this was the best deal he would get. He gave a decisive nod. ‘You drive a hard bargain, Mr Daniell. But I accept your terms.’ Rising from his chair he took the banker’s hand.
‘Then we have an agreement, Mr Polgray.’
Charles replaced the deeds in his satchel.
Daniell rubbed his hands together. ‘I will have my lawyer prepare a document confirming the terms of our agreement. As a businessman yourself you will be aware that should you default on repayment my bank may sell the property to reclaim our money then give you the balance. The legalities will take several days to set up. So I suggest we meet here at the same time next week to sign the agreement, if that suits you?’
‘Certainly.’
‘A pleasure doing business with you, Mr Polgray,’ Daniell said, escorting him to the door.
After a final handshake Charles left the banker’s office with a spring in his step. He enjoyed the cut and thrust of negotiating. Obtaining only £12,000 instead of the full £15,000 meant he was short, though not disastrously so. But now he was sure of the funding it was essential to get the work underway as soon as possible. He needed to get income flowing and start paying off the loan.
