by Dilly Court
‘Are you so certain of victory?’
‘One can never be certain how a jury will react, but I have never yet lost a case and I don’t intend to start now.’ He reached across the table to pat her hand. ‘Your visit will raise Billy’s spirits and give him courage. It’s not going to be easy to prove his innocence, but I will do everything in my power to save him from the noose.’
Rose gazed at his slim fingers as they covered her own, and she had to conquer a sudden desire to cry. It had been a long day and despite her nap in the carriage she was mentally and physically exhausted. ‘I’m truly grateful,’ she said softly. ‘But I will repay you, if it’s the last thing I ever do.’
He withdrew his hand and raised his glass to her. ‘Here’s to success.’
Bodmin Gaol loomed over the town. Constructed entirely of cold, hard granite, it appeared stark and forbidding. The mere sight of it was enough to send shivers down Rose’s spine, and as they entered the grim building she sensed the unease created by centuries of despairing souls who had been confined within its walls. Those who were currently incarcerated were vocal in their dissatisfaction, and she tried to shut her ears to the pleas for help and clemency as the warder led them through a maze of corridors. The light from the warder’s lamp created monstrous shadows in the darkness, and the smell of burning paraffin mixed with stench of excrement became nauseating. Rose covered her nose and mouth with her handkerchief, but Bennett seemed unperturbed as he strode along at her side.
An icy draught whistled down the passage and she shuddered to think what it must be like in the confines of the prison when night fell. She had never believed in ghosts, but after five minutes inside the gaol she was beginning to think that the place was indeed haunted. She could feel the sadness and despair emanating from the stone walls, and she had to subdue the desire to turn and run.
Bennett took her by the arm, giving it a comforting squeeze. ‘It’s not a pleasant place, but then it wasn’t meant to be. I’ve seen to it that Billy has a cell to himself and that he is fed regularly.’
‘Thank you,’ Rose whispered.
The warder came to a sudden halt, unlocked a cell door and stood aside to let them enter. ‘Five minutes,’ he said tersely.
Bennett took a coin from his pocket and pressed it into the man’s hand. ‘Ten minutes.’
‘Aye, sir.’ The warder closed the door and the key grated in the lock.
Rose blinked as her eyes became accustomed to the gloom and for a moment she thought that the dank cell was empty, but as she drew further in she could see a hunched shape lying on the bed, partly covered by a coarse blanket. Her breath caught in her throat and her heartbeat quickened.
‘Billy,’ she said softly. ‘Billy, it’s me, Rose.’
The body remained stiff and still and she experienced a feeling of panic. She turned to Bennett. ‘He’s not moving. What have they done to him?’
Chapter Eight
Bennett crossed the floor, leaned over the bed and shook Billy by the shoulders.
‘Eh? What?’ Billy snapped into a sitting position. ‘Bennett, is that you?’ He blinked and ran his hand through his tangled auburn hair.
Rose hurried to his bedside and threw her arms around his neck, sobbing with relief. ‘I thought you were dead.’ She released him only to slap him twice on the shoulder. ‘You gave me such a fright.’
‘Hold hard, Rose. Why are you here?’ He glared at Bennett. ‘Why did you bring my sister to this hellhole?’
Bennett leaned against the wall as there was nowhere other than the bed where a person could sit. In fact, as Rose was quick to notice, the only other furniture was a roughly made table on which was an enamel jug and washbowl. The flagstone floor was bare of anything that might hint at comfort and the wind whistled through the badly fitting barred window.
She reached up to stroke her brother’s whiskery cheek. ‘I hardly recognised you beneath all that fuzz,’ she said with a shaky laugh. ‘I’m so glad to see you, Billy.’
He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face against her shoulder. ‘You shouldn’t have come here, Rose. This is no place for a lady.’
‘Don’t talk such nonsense,’ she said severely. ‘I would have come sooner had it been possible, and I couldn’t have done it without Bennett’s help.’ She looked up and met Bennett’s gaze with a grateful smile. ‘He’s going to get you acquitted, Billy. We both know that you’re innocent.’
Billy raised himself, dashing his hand across his eyes and sniffing. ‘I didn’t do it, Rosie. I swear to God I didn’t kill Gawain. He was my friend.’
‘I know you didn’t,’ Rose insisted. ‘And Bennett is going to prove it. You mustn’t worry about anything other than keeping yourself in good heart until we can get you out of here.’
‘What does Father say to all this?’ Billy grasped Rose’s hand. ‘Has he told Mama?’
‘No one at home knows, apart from Cora and Aunt Polly. We’ve been doing everything we can to raise the money to fund your defence, so you mustn’t worry about anything.’ Rose held his hand to her cheek. ‘You will be acquitted, I know you will.’
Billy’s green eyes filled with tears and he blinked them away. ‘I can’t stand it in this place, Rose. If the case goes against me I’ll kill myself. I’d rather die that way than at the end of a hangman’s rope.’
Shocked and alarmed by his obvious distress, she held him close. ‘Don’t say things like that, Billy.’
He choked on a sob. ‘This isn’t the place for you, Rose. Don’t bring her here again, Bennett.’
‘I’ll come every day until the trial, and nothing will stop me.’ Rose passed him her handkerchief, close to tears herself. ‘I’ll bring you some clean clothes and a hairbrush. You look a mess, Billy Perkins.’
‘Your sister has spoken, Billy,’ Bennett said with a grim smile. ‘I don’t think either of us has much chance of deflecting her from her purpose.’
Billy opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of the key rattling in the lock preceded the appearance of the warder. ‘Your time be up now, lady and gentleman.’
Rose kissed her brother on the cheek. ‘You don’t smell too good either. I’ll bring some soap and a towel. They don’t seem to provide such luxuries here.’ She shot an accusing glance at the warder.
‘This bain’t be no hotel, miss,’ he said stiffly. ‘Time you was gone.’
‘Please don’t come again, Rose.’ Billy threw himself down on the hard wooden bed. ‘I’m done for and I know it.’
‘Don’t say things like that.’ Rose cast an anxious glance at Bennett, but he shook his head.
‘We will be back.’ He slipped another coin into the man’s hand, before turning to give Billy an encouraging smile. ‘Until tomorrow, my friend.’
Rose hurried from the prison, stopping outside to gasp for breath, but the putrid stench seemed to have woven itself into the fabric of her clothing, and it clung to her despite the freshness of the clean country air.
Tears ran down her cheeks. ‘That was worse than I imagined. Poor Billy, he was always such a cheerful person, with a kind word for everyone. I didn’t think that he would be in such a state.’
Bennett proffered his arm. ‘It’s not pleasant, but Billy has the best of it, such as it is. The other poor wretches are crowded into cells without so much as a blanket between them.’
‘I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all you’ve done for him, but I can’t bear to see him like that.’ Rose searched in her pocket for her hankie and then remembered she had left it with Billy.
‘Here, take mine.’ Bennett handed her a spotless white handkerchief.
‘Thank goodness Cora and I have managed to keep the truth from our parents. I would walk barefoot over hot coals rather than let them know what’s happened to Billy.’
A grim smile curved Bennett’s well-moulded lips. ‘That won’t be necessary, but are you sure you want to visit again?’
‘Of course, if it’s at all possible. How far
is it to Portmorna?’
‘Eight or nine miles.’
Rose thought quickly. ‘Perhaps I could hire a pony and trap. I wouldn’t need to trouble you to bring me every day.’
‘You are a determined woman, Miss Perkins.’
‘I am a very determined woman, Mr Sharpe.’ She met his quizzical look with a defiant lift of her chin. ‘I will do anything to help my brother, and he ought not to go before the judge looking like a vagabond.’
Bennett tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. ‘If you were trained in law you would make a good barrister. We’ll return to the inn and collect our things and head on for Portmorna. Vere is expecting us.’
Portmorna House was situated on a wooded headland. Built by Thomas Tressidick, who had made his fortune from the mining and export of copper at the end of the previous century, the house had been designed in the Palladian style and constructed from granite. The grey stone glinted in the afternoon sunshine, reflecting the light like a jewel in its woodland setting. The trees were bursting into leaf and alive with birdsong and the stirrings of spring. Rose was impressed and a little overawed to think that she was to be a guest in such a grand house. It seemed unfair that she would be staying in such a beautiful place while Billy was confined to a dank prison cell.
Bennett leaped from the carriage and hallooed to a footman who stood beneath a columned portico. ‘Is my cousin at home, James?’
‘No, sir. He be down at the mine office. Shall I send word of your arrival?’
‘That won’t be necessary. Take the young lady’s valise to the blue room, please, and ask Jenifry to bring tea and cake to the drawing room.’
‘Aye, sir. It shall be done.’ James seized the valise and hurried into the house.
Bennett stood aside to allow Rose to enter the square entrance hall. Her first thought was that you could fit almost the whole vicarage into this single space. The staircase rose in a gracious sweep to a galleried landing, and light flooded in through tall windows. Bowls filled with hyacinths filled the air with their heady scent and fluffy yellow catkins dangled from hazel twigs that someone had thought to place in a silver urn. It was as if springtime had been captured by loving hands and brought into the house. Rose was tempted to make a comment on her surroundings, but thought better of it as a housemaid came hurrying towards them.
‘May I take your outer garments, miss?’
‘Yes, thank you.’ Rose took off her bonnet and mantle and handed them to her, but in doing so she was conscious of her crumpled and travel-stained gown, and she felt shabby and underdressed.
Bennett tossed his greatcoat and top hat onto a chair. ‘Thank you, Jenifry. We’ll take tea in the drawing room and then you can show Miss Perkins to her bedchamber.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Jenifry bobbed a curtsey and hurried off, her small feet pitter-pattering on the marble-tiled floor.
‘You’ll meet my cousin at dinner,’ Bennett said as he led the way to the drawing room. He opened the door and ushered Rose inside.
Once again she was staggered by the size and elegance of the south-facing room, which was furnished tastefully, but with an eye to comfort. She took a seat by the fireplace, and sank into the cushioned depths of the armchair. Bennett tossed another log onto the glowing embers, prodding it into place with the toe of his boot. He glanced down at her. ‘You’ll feel better for something to eat and drink. It’s been a long day.’
‘I keep thinking of Billy in that dreadful place. I know I promised him fresh clothes but I’ve brought nothing of his with me.’
‘Don’t worry, there are chests filled with garments that will fit him, and I’ll see that he has a razor and shaving soap. You mustn’t bother yourself with details, the main thing is to keep his spirits up and I suspect you’ve done that already.’
‘Why are you being so kind to us?’ Rose asked curiously. ‘You and your cousin have every reason to dislike my family.’
‘Billy wasn’t to blame.’ Bennett took a seat opposite her. ‘Gawain was a wild boy. He was always in trouble of some sort from the time he could toddle. He was born to die young, that’s what my father used to say, and I think he was right. There are some people who invite disaster, and Gawain was one of them.’
‘Are you saying that he deserved to die?’
‘Certainly not, but if you believe in fate or destiny, whatever you like to call it, then Gawain was destined to come to a sticky end.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Rose said slowly. ‘How can you say a thing like that?’
‘My cousin mixed with a bad lot. There are fam-ilies in the village who seem to breed their sons for the single purpose of filling Bodmin Gaol. As a youth Gawain preferred their company to that of his peers. I’m convinced that I know the identity of the man who stabbed him, and I intend to prove it.’
‘Can you tell me who it is?’
‘It won’t mean anything to you, but the Penneck family are well known in these parts, or should I say notorious? Gryffyn Penneck used to work in the quarry until he was caught in a rock fall and suffered a badly broken leg, which left him partially crippled. My uncle gave him work in the gardens, but he’s a surly fellow and it’s hard to know what goes on in his head. There’s been talk of the family being involved in smuggling, and Gryffyn’s sons, Day and Pasco, have been in and out of prison since they were boys.’
‘And you think that one of them might have killed Gawain?’
‘Pasco drinks too much. He was always jealous of his brother’s friendship with Gawain, and he and his father blame the Tressidicks for an accident that was nobody’s fault. These things happen in the mining business.’
‘So you think Pasco is the murderer?’
Bennett turned away and walked to one of the windows overlooking the harbour. He stood with his hands clasped tightly behind his back, staring at the view. ‘Gawain and Billy came down from Oxford with two of their undergraduate friends. They were drinking in the pub when an argument started between them and the Penneck brothers. The landlord threw them out and a fight ensued. They were all very drunk but Gryffyn put a stop to the fracas and sent them all on their way, or so he says. Day and Pasco swear their innocence, as do Toby Wilkes and Edric Kenyon.’
‘What happened then?’
‘Gawain was found in the woods next morning. He’d been stabbed to death, but the knife was never found. Billy, Toby and Edric were discovered nearby in a drunken stupor. None of them remembered anything after leaving the Saracen’s Head, but Billy’s coat was covered in blood even though he had no wounds to show for it.’
Rose frowned, remembering a conversation they had had previously. ‘You were very interested in the fact that Billy is left-handed. How does that affect the case?’
‘I saw my cousin’s body, Rose. I’m not an expert, but I’d swear that the fatal wound was inflicted by a right-handed person. I doubt if that would sway a jury, but it’s a fact I might use if things don’t go our way.’
‘Is Pasco right-handed?’
‘Yes, he is and so is his brother.’
Rose stood up and crossed the floor to stand beside him. She gazed out at the sweep of the bay. The sun was low in the sky now, bathing the ships in the harbour with its last golden rays, and casting long purple shadows on the lawn. A thin mist veiled the treetops, curling like fingers around the tree trunks. There was an aura of mystery, bringing to mind the legends of long ago that seemed to haunt the Cornish landscape. She could feel herself falling under its spell, but she dragged her thoughts back to the present.
‘Do you think Pasco was responsible for the blood on Billy’s jacket?’
‘You’re very shrewd. Do you always go straight to the heart of the matter?’
‘I’m used to listening to people,’ Rose said simply. ‘My mother is an invalid and I’ve been helping in my father’s parish since I was fourteen or fifteen. I visit people in their homes and they unburden themselves to me, but sometimes their true meaning is in what they don’t say. It can become clear in
their tone of voice or a look in their eyes, or simply knowing the family’s circumstances.’
He turned to face her. ‘I find that fact that you’ve been leading a double life intriguing. How do you equate the two?’
‘I don’t like deceiving my parents, but I don’t feel guilt or shame for what I’ve been doing because it’s for Billy, although I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy performing on stage.’
‘Beauty, honesty and loyalty,’ Bennett said, smiling. ‘I never thought to find all three in one woman.’
Rose felt the blood rush to her cheeks, but she responded to the mischievous twinkle in his eyes with a chuckle. ‘You make me sound like a pet dog.’
‘I’m very fond of dogs.’ He laughed and she noted that his eyes crinkled at the corners, softening the harsh contours of his face.
‘You should laugh more often,’ she said seriously.
He looked round as the door opened and Jenifry hurried in bearing a tray of tea and some small yellow cakes. ‘Saffron buns.’ Bennett nodded with approval. ‘You’re honoured, Rose. My cousin’s cook keeps these for special occasions only.’
Jenifry placed the tray on a sofa table. ‘Mrs Vennor says they be for the maid who has come to save Mr William from the hangman’s noose.’
‘Yes, thank you, Jenifry. That will be all for now, and thank Mrs Vennor for the saffron buns. They’re a particular favourite of mine.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Jenifry curtsied and left the room.
Rose took a seat on the sofa and picked up the teapot. She shot an apologetic glance at Bennett. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so used to pouring the tea. I suppose I should have asked you first.’
He held up his hands. ‘Please do the honours, Rose. I myself am not very domesticated. When I’m in chambers I have rooms in Star Yard and I always dine out.’
She poured the tea and handed him a cup. ‘And when you are not in chambers, where do you live then?’
‘I suppose this is my real home. I was born here and my mother died when I was two. My father was killed in a hunting accident when I was just seven, and my uncle took me in. He raised me as his own, and Vere and Gawain were like brothers to me, which is why I won’t rest until I have his murderer brought to justice.’ He sipped his tea. ‘You must try one of Mrs Vennor’s saffron buns. She’ll be mortally offended if you don’t.’
