‘It means “funny”, silly. Uncle Ran’s always funny. Not like Daddy. He’s miserable all the time,’ Primmy added for good measure.
‘Daddy’s got a lot of business worries—’
‘Killigrew Clay’s not in trouble, is it, Mother?’ Walter was too sharp, too keen on his heritage to ignore any such comment, and Morwen wished she had never made it.
She would have fobbed him off, but she looked into his clear anxious blue eyes and knew that he deserved more. He was growing up so fast. He was going on for fifteen, tall and muscular like Sam had been, and already a young man to make girls’ heads turn. Ben was wrong to treat him like a child the way he did.
‘Prices have fallen, and folk aren’t so keen to pay their bills, which stretches us to pay the wages and other things,’ she said as honestly as possible without giving too much away. ‘But you know the clay prices go up and down, darling. ’Tis nothing to worry about.’
‘We’re not worrying today,’ Ran said heartily. ‘I thought you were all having tea with me, and I want no glum faces around my table.’
Walter looked at him steadily. ‘You’re all right, aren’t you, Uncle Ran? The clay-stone’s doing well. I read it in The Informer.’
‘Did you? I thought your father discouraged you from reading newspapers at home,’ Ran said mildly.
‘I don’t read them at home. We get a selection of papers from all over the country at school. If Father wants me to be educated, he must expect a private school to provide such literary masterpieces along with Dickens and Shakespeare.’
He spoke with studied irony. He was going to be clever with words, Morwen thought suddenly. Her clever, clever son – Sam’s son – who still wanted to work with the clay, despite all his learning. Just as Ben had done, once long ago. She felt a glow of pride for Walter. Sometimes she felt that he was more her child than all the others, even her own two that she had wanted so much. The thought made guilt stab at her, and she gave Charlotte a hug, and Justin an extra-warm smile.
After tea, the children asked if they could run down to the sea, excited that the grounds of the house ran right down to a small cove.
‘Just be careful,’ Ran warned. ‘The cliffs look as if they might crumble, so don’t go climbing on them, and you boys take care of the girls.’
They watched them go from the tall dining-room windows, scampering down the slope in the lovely March afternoon, a little troupe in descending heights, and it was Albert who waited for Charlotte’s short legs to catch up. Morwen felt the curl of Ran’s fingers in her own. They felt comforting and warm. It wasn’t often they touched, as if by an unspoken vow. She didn’t move away. She wanted to hold this moment. She had felt this way many times in her life, wishing there was some way a moment could be captured and savoured, to bring out on the miserable days when nothing went right.
‘We could never destroy that innocence,’ Ran said softly.
‘No.’
‘It doesn’t mean that I don’t think of you, and want you, and love you, every waking moment of my life, and in every dream.’ He spoke intimately, without looking at her. She could feel the restrained passion through his fingertips, more powerfully than if he had crushed her in his arms.
‘And I you,’ Morwen whispered, and the surge of love inside her was a tightening in her chest and a thickening in her throat. She trembled involuntarily, and Ran felt that too. He released her hand and turned to her.
‘Shall we walk in the gardens?’ he said quietly. ‘If we stay here alone, I fear I might even yet carry you away upstairs, and do what my heart tells me to do.’
‘Then we had best go outside,’ she said unsteadily. ‘For if you ask, I shall be unable to say no.’
So formal, when all they wanted to do was forget the proprieties and be themselves, two lovers who loved and ached to be part of each other. But it was necessary to play these games, to give so much and no more, to know that each still yearned for the other, and it was a talisman they each cherished. Morwen still feared that one day Ran would tire of having so little, and would want something of his own, but she refused to think of it. If she didn’t give the words space in her head, they didn’t exist. She clung to her own simple logic.
They strolled in the grounds and New World looked very beautiful in the afternoon sunlight. For a second, Morwen imagined herself as the mistress here, with children who were not hers and Ben’s, or theirs and Sam’s and Dora’s, but children born of a new love…
‘I thought we’d wait for the house-warming party until Matt and Louisa are here,’ Ran said. ‘It will be my pleasure to entertain you all, and my housekeeper was undaunted when I mentioned the fact.’
‘It sounds a lovely idea, Ran.’ It was best to keep away from personal topics and plan ahead. ‘You were very fortunate in finding such a good housekeeper. Mrs Enders seems like a treasure.’
‘And very well recommended. She brought references with her, you know.’ Ran smiled, as if all this talk of housekeeping was of vital importance to them both. ‘Her sister works for Richard Carrick, the solicitor, and his wife. Didn’t you say you knew them?’
‘Oh yes, I know them—’ and have been snubbed by them, and despised by them, and been insanely jealous of their beautiful daughter, when Mrs Carrick was determined to make her Jane Ben Killigrew’s bride…
‘Well, they were gracious enough to give Mrs Enders a character reference too, which made me more than happy to employ her, and I’ve been well rewarded.’ He glanced down at her, aware that she was suddenly quiet. ‘Morwen? Honey, is anything wrong?’
Her eyes glinted with tears. She adored the American form of endearment that Ran used rarely, and only to her.
‘Just a goose walking over my grave, that’s all. Forget it, Ran. Let’s talk about Matt instead. We’re all going to travel to Falmouth to meet him, and I hope you’ll come as well.’
‘Of course. You’ll need an extra carriage,’ he said. ‘I’ll come over to St Austell and pick up your parents, if you like. You and Ben will have enough to do with the children, and I daresay Freddie will go with Jack and his family. Will he shut up shop for the day?’
‘Of course. There’ll be no work done by any of the Tremaynes on that day. And Ben’s promised not to go to the works.’
She forgot the tussle she’d had with Ben. He’d been surly and said Matt wouldn’t care whether Ben Killigrew went to the port to greet him or not, but Morwen insisted on it and eventually got her way, angry that Ben had thought Matt’s homecoming of so little importance. To the Tremaynes it was the most important day of their lives, and Freddie would certainly shut up shop! She murmured that it might be a good idea to call and surprise him when the children got back from the cove. She made the suggestion because Ran’s house was beginning to feel too desirable to her, too much a place where she wanted to stay.
* * *
Freddie Tremayne was having second thoughts about going to America. It had been a whim, a moment’s thought, but now there was something more alluring here in Truro. It had been here all the time, but he had only just found it. He stopped thinking of the object of his attentions as “it”, and into his mind came the picture of a silky blue gown that fitted lusciously over curves of soft white flesh. The breathtaking vision was transformed by the face of an angel with a rosebud mouth and gentle grey eyes, surmounted by a cloud of titian hair that could have come straight from an artist’s palette. Freddie Tremayne was in love, hopelessly and unbelievably in love, and he had danced with his love and felt as though he floated on a cloud.
He forced himself to stop daydreaming and serve the rough seamen who came into his shop for ropes and candles, and to admit that his life was far more aligned to such as these, than the elite of Truro society, to which the Honourable Venetia Hocking belonged. He felt a shiver of excitement just thinking of her name. It was such a beautiful name, but then to Freddie, everything about her was beautiful…
‘Our Freddie, get that bemused look off your face, and say hel
lo.’
He heard his sister Morwen’s teasing voice with a start. How long he’d been gazing into space he didn’t know. But the seamen had been replaced by a whole shopful of people, Morwen and the American cousin, and the five jostling children. He forced a smile to his face.
‘Well, what brings you all here? You’re a long way from home.’
‘Not from Ran’s home. We’ve been visiting, and seeing how the other folk live,’ she laughed. ‘You must see it soon, Freddie, and Ran’s bringing an invitation.’
He thought that she and Ran seemed on very good terms, and wouldn’t blame them if they were. Freddie had less and less time for Ben these days, seeing what a mess he was making of his life, and he liked and admired the American cousin.
‘It’s hardly an invitation, since we’re all family. It’s a house-warming for when Matt and Louisa are here. You’ll come, of course, Freddie – and bring a friend if you like.’
He said it carelessly, a friendly gesture without guile. But Morwen saw the way her youngest brother coloured up, his hands fidgeting with some brochures on the glass counter, and was instantly reminded of a time years ago when she and Ben had taken Freddie on a picnic to the beach. The boy had begged to go for a swim, and had come out of the water happy and shivering in his under-drawers, and Morwen had first been aware of the tender finger of manhood in her baby brother, and had been suffused with love for his growing-up.
Why she should think of that now, she couldn’t imagine, and it sent a wave of embarrassment through her. To be instantly dismissed as a new thought struck her, confirmed at once by Freddie’s words.
‘I will if she’ll agree to it.’
‘She?’ Morwen echoed at once. ‘Freddie, you’ve been keeping things from us. Who is this “she”?’
He laughed. ‘You were allus a nosey one, our Morwen. I don’t even know if she’ll remember me.’
But he remembered her, Morwen thought. It was written in his face, all the wonder of falling in love, the agony and the joy.
‘Are you going to tell us her name, or do we have to guess?’ She went on relentlessly. She was aware of Ran’s amused look, and the children’s disinterest. The chandlery shop was infinitely more exciting, with its hotchpotch of knick-knacks and the pungent smells of candles and soap and wax and varnish. She ignored them all. This was family talk, and the Tremaynes had always been intensely interested in each other’s doings.
‘All right, then. ’Tis Venetia.’ Just saying it made Freddie glow in a way he found pleasurable and new. He had been telling himself ever since he met his lady that there was nothing wrong with him after all. He was a man with a man’s healthy appetites and responses, and just meeting Venetia had restored his confidence in himself.
‘Venetia!’ Morwen echoed. ‘’Tis a fancy name. Where did ’ee meet a body wi’ a name like that, our Freddie? Is she the daughter of a Lord or summat?’
Only two sorts of women had names like that. Daughters of the gentry, or moonlighters who gave themselves airs to attract their gentleman callers. She hardly thought it could be either! But she lapsed into the old patois so that Freddie wouldn’t think she was being too serious. To her horror she saw him nod.
‘The Honourable Venetia Hocking. What do ’ee think of that, then?’
Morwen couldn’t think of anything at all for a moment. The fatuous smile on her brother’s face made her so fiercely protective that she wanted to hug him close. He was destined for heartbreak… but how could she tell him that? Any more than she could say baldly that a Lord would never hand over his daughter to a young man with a modest chandlery shop, however well-up he considered himself in the social scale. Compared with Lords and Honourables, the Tremaynes were still nothing. Her eyes stung with tears, but it was Ran who spoke.
‘Good for you, boy. So we’ll expect to see you and your Lady Venetia at the party. I haven’t fixed the date yet, but I’ll let you know in good time.’
‘Where did you meet her, Freddie?’ Morwen said quickly. She wasn’t even aware that her brother was doing the social rounds in Truro. She had become introverted in many ways. Since Ben had stopped entertaining and accepting invitations, she had been obliged to do the same. The Killigrews were practically recluses and outcasts from St Austell society, she realized with a little shock, where they had once been coveted guests.
‘Lord Hocking’s Chairman of the Small Businesses Club,’ Freddie said with as much pride as if he had helped the gentleman attain the honour. ‘He inherited his title from a distant cousin, but still maintains his roots, our Morwen, so you needn’t be afeared that I’m leaping out of my class just yet. He ran some stables and a riding school for other folk’s daughters and still keeps his finger in the commercial pie.’
‘Well, I don’t know what to say to it then.’
‘Don’t say anything, just wish me luck.’ Freddie grinned, the brief defensiveness gone, and the cheeky look of the young kiddley-boy back on his face.
Morwen leaned across the counter and kissed him.
‘You know that I do,’ she said softly. ‘And I just can’t wait to meet this Venetia of yours. Do we have to call her “my lady”, by the way?’ She still couldn’t resist teasing him.
‘You do and I’ll clock you,’ Freddie reverted even more to the old Freddie. ‘Now get out of here, the lot of you, so I can serve some real paying customers.’
They moved hastily, still smiling as the door opened and a salt breeze wafted in with the burly clients. Morwen was somewhat easier at Freddie’s revelations about Lord Hocking, but it still seemed a far cry from the aspirations of a one-time kiddley-boy at Killigrew Clay. She was suddenly ashamed. What of herself? Who would have thought that a bal maiden would be the wife of a clay boss? She saw Ran watching her, and knew he could read her thoughts.
‘All right, so I’m anxious about him,’ she murmured. ‘Why shouldn’t I be? He’s still my little brother, and any woman should be proud to be loved by him. He’s handsome and open, and he’s done well for himself—’
‘You don’t need to defend him to me, Morwen,’ Ran said mildly. ‘I told you once before. In my country, we take a person for what they are, not for what their parents made them.’
‘I think I’d like to see your country.’ She spoke without thinking.
‘Perhaps one day you will.’
She didn’t answer. They both knew there was only one way Morwen would ever go to America. Ben had no interest in the country. But if there was no Ben, and the way was clear for her and Ran… Morwen smothered such thoughts immediately. They were bad thoughts, and she had never wished another harm in all her life… except for one person, and she had successfully dealt with him, she remembered.
The thought suddenly chilled her. She mustn’t, for one moment, wish Ben ill. She may or may not have the power… old Zillah had once hinted that she did. Charles Killigrew had been convinced that there was healing in her hands. But she didn’t want it. Not if she could unconsciously use it to wish Ben ill. She would never do that. She loved him. She did. She did. She repeated the phrase over and over like a talisman.
* * *
‘If Uncle Freddie’s going to marry a Lady, will that make him a Lord?’ Primmy asked, the thought clearly enchanting her.
Ben spluttered over his glass of brandy. He had come home from Clay One to find his entire family poring over the atlas again, tracing how many miles Matt Tremayne would have travelled so far, and for some reason the whole scene irritated him. It only needed the American cousin to be here, and he might as well be ousted from his own hearth, he thought disagreeably. But this remark of Primmy’s was ludicrous enough to make him guffaw loudly.
‘Freddie Tremayne marrying a Lady and becoming a Lord? Have you lost your reason, girl?’
His tone made Primmy burn with embarrassment, and Morwen could have shaken her husband. Not least because of the scathing dismissal of such a possibility. She hadn’t been aware that the children had taken any interest in the conversation at the
shop, but it soon become obvious that they had.
‘Why shouldn’t Uncle Freddie marry a Lady?’ Walter said stoutly, still resentful of Ben’s blocking of his wishes to leave private school and start work.
He wasn’t stupid. He knew that money was beginning to be a problem. He had inherited the Tremayne logic, and thought that a saving of school fees would prove more useful to Ben than keeping a frustrated son in a place he didn’t want to be.
‘Because, my dear boy, his father’s hardly likely to want his daughter to marry somebody who lives in a few rooms above a shop, is he? Use your brains, if you have any.’
‘What’s wrong with Uncle Freddie? He’s nice,’ Primmy was bitterly resentful of Ben’s attitude to them both. ‘Uncle Ran says it’s what a man is that counts, not what his father gives him.’
Ben’s eyes narrowed. ‘Really? Uncle Ran seems to figure very frequently in your thinking these days, but an American is hardly in a position to discuss our social system.’
‘You don’t like anybody, do you, Daddy?’ Primmy stated. ‘Not Uncle Ran, or Uncle Freddie, or Mother – or us.’
Ben drained his glass and poured another. ‘You’re talking rubbish. When you’re older you’ll understand—’
‘We understand now.’ Walter moved close to her, and Morwen looked at the two of them in astonishment and alarm. They seemed to have grown in stature. She had seen that Walter was growing up fast. She hadn’t realized that Primmy was beginning to use all her woman’s intuition too. Albert wasn’t anxious to leave childhood behind, and Justin and Charlotte seemed like babies compared with these two.
‘Well then, my braves,’ Ben’s voice was heavy with sarcasm. ‘Do you think a Lord would want an ex-kiddley-boy for a son-in-law?’
If he hoped to shock them, he failed utterly. How thankful Morwen was now that she had already told the children about the Tremayne background. Walter and Primmy stared back at Ben unblinkingly.
Family Ties Page 19
