by Jane Jackson
As soon as the Tregennas’ front door closed behind them, Kerenza expected her grandmother to ask Rapson what had happened. But she didn’t. Nor did he volunteer any details. Forbidden by good manners to enquire into matters that might be none of her concern, Kerenza began to shiver as curiosity solidified into apprehension.
They hurried home through chilly, moonlit streets thronged with weaving sailors and giggling girls. As they passed the open doors of inns and alehouses, sounds of laughter and singing mingled with the smells of roast meat, fried onions, beer, and tobacco smoke.
A few minutes later, she followed her grandmother up the steps and in through the front door.
‘Your sitting room, madam,’ Rapson murmured.
Without waiting to remove her long cloak, Aurelia walked swiftly down the hall.
Uncertain whether she should follow or wait, Kerenza slipped off her pelisse. As she dropped it onto a chair, she saw her grandmother open the door, and pause, utterly still. Disappearing inside, her startled voice floated back down the hall.
‘William. What a wonderful surprise.’
Kerenza froze. William? Could it be –? Running down the hall, she whirled in through the doorway and stopped, staring at the haggard, emaciated man struggling to his feet from an armchair.
‘Papa?’ Her choked whisper betrayed her shock.
‘Kerenza.’ As he held out a shaking hand, tears gathered on his red-rimmed eyelids and trickled over crumpled grey-white skin furrowed with suffering. ‘My dear girl. I feared I might never see you again.’
For a split second all the misery she had endured at home held her rooted to the spot. Then, overwhelmed by a combination of guilt and relief that the awful waiting, not knowing, was over at last, she rushed forward. ‘Oh Papa. Thank God you are safe. It’s been so long and we were so dreadfully worried.’
As she hugged him, the smell stopped her breath. He reeked of tar and bilge water, of old cooking, stale sweat, and alcohol. As he patted her shoulder clumsily she drew back revolted, instantly ashamed of her reaction, yet craving fresh air. Clasping her hands tightly, she forced a smile, struggling for emotional balance in a world turned suddenly upside down.
‘How are Mama and Dulcie? When did you arrive back? No doubt they wanted to go straight home. Are they both well?’
‘Patience, child,’ Aurelia chided. ‘Give your father a chance to answer.’
William Vyvyan collapsed back into the chair and passed a trembling hand across his face.
‘They did not return with me. I must pay a ransom before they will be freed.’
‘Ransom?’ Kerenza repeated, bewildered.
‘Who is holding them, William?’ Aurelia asked. ‘And where?’
‘They are in Tangier, at the Governor’s palace.’
‘But –’ Kerenza began.
‘No,’ William interrupted, voice cracking, ‘no more questions, not now. I’m too tired and have too much to do. I have come straight from the packet office. There’s a ship leaving for Gibraltar in three days. I have to raise the ransom money in time to be aboard her. Kerenza, you must come back with me to Tangier. Your mother and sister – I wasn’t permitted to speak to them, though from what I could see they seemed well enough. But after all they have been through they will need someone to care for them on the voyage home. Someone they know, someone who may be relied upon not to – Well, you know –’ He gestured vaguely.
No, she didn’t know. Not to what? Ask questions? Kerenza’s gaze sought her grandmother’s. What should she do? She didn’t want to leave the only security and happiness she had ever known. You must come back with me to Tangier. She didn’t want to go with her father. She didn’t want to be responsible for the wellbeing of two people who had made her life utterly miserable. Yet how could she refuse? They were her family . Her reluctance was echoed in her grandmother’s eyes.
Aurelia’s mouth trembled briefly, then she tilted her chin. Her features tightened and, holding Kerenza’s gaze, she gave a decisive nod.
Kerenza swallowed. ‘Of course, Papa. But will you be able to raise the money in so short a time?’ A tiny treacherous part of her hoped that he might not. Then she wouldn’t have to go. Immediately, a scalding wave of shame washed over her.
‘I must,’ William said simply, rubbing his face as if that might erase his exhaustion. ‘The next Gibraltar packet doesn’t sail for three weeks. I can’t wait that long. I dare not. If I don’t get back within a certain time –’ His voice broke.
‘Come, William,’ Aurelia rose to her feet. ‘You are exhausted. Rapson will prepare a bath and I’ll have a tray of supper sent up to you.’
He pinched the bridge of his nose, swaying. ‘I ought to –’
‘You can do no more tonight.’ Aurelia said. ‘What you need now is food and sleep. You can return to Falmouth first thing in the morning.’
Beyond arguing, William shrugged. Grey with fatigue, he turned to Kerenza. ‘I won’t have time to come over again before we sail. I’ll join the ship from Falmouth. You must arrange for one of the village boys to row you out from here. I’ll see you on board.’ He shuffled toward the door: thin, round-shouldered, looking a lifetime older.
Kerenza gazed after him, too confused and jangled to know what she felt. It was too much to take in all at once. What had happened to him? He was a shadow of the prosperous merchant she remembered. And what of her mother and sister? What would they look like now? The room was warm, but she felt chilled. She rubbed her arms as unease crept over her skin and seeped into her bones.
‘Papa?’ she called quickly as he reached the threshold. ‘Which packet are we sailing on?’
His forehead puckered. He appeared to be on the verge of collapse. ‘What?’
‘The ship’s name, William,’ Aurelia prompted. ‘So Kerenza may be sure she boards the right one?’
‘Oh. It’s
Kestrel. She arrived back from Lisbon early this evening.’
Chapter Three
‘I don’t know how you’re ever going to get it all in, miss.’ Minnie shook her head. ‘Not with the bedding and all.’ Her plump face was pink with exertion. Wisps of fair hair had escaped from beneath her frilled cap and clung to her damp forehead and neck. She picked a thread from the white apron covering her blue calico dress, shrugging helplessly as she surveyed the mound of dresses, shawls, undergarments, stockings, kerchiefs, and nightwear strewn across the coverlet.
‘I can’t,’ Kerenza said simply. ‘There won’t be room.’ She threw back the lid of the trunk, releasing the sweet scent of the cedar wood balls lying in the bottom to keep moths away. Riffling through the pile of clothing, she began selecting items and passing them to Minnie, who folded them expertly then laid them on the carpet.
‘Best if I don’t put ’em in until you’re sure.’
Kerenza nodded. ‘The trouble is though it’s still winter here, it will probably be much hotter in Tangier.’
‘Yes, well, you got to get there first. There won’t be no fire to keep you warm on that there boat,’ Minnie reminded her. ‘And I seen more meat on a butcher’s apron than you got on your bones just now.’
Kerenza sighed. ‘Don’t start that again, Minnie. I’m perfectly well.’
The maid gave a muffled snort. ‘If you say so, miss. But I know what I see, and I can’t help worrying.’
‘Well, I wish you wouldn’t. It doesn’t help. I have to go and that’s all there is to it. Now, which do you think?’ She held up two round gowns: one of plain muslin, the other spotted. ‘The apple-green or the lilac?’
‘The green. Look handsome with your hair, it do.’ Taking the dress, Minnie shook it out, then lay it on the carpet and folded it to minimise creasing. ‘You shouldn’t be going by yourself. ’Tis never right, a young lady travelling alone.’
‘Minnie, you know perfectly well I shan’t be alone. I’m travelling with my father.’
‘Oh yes? No disrespect, miss, but I can’t see him being much use when it comes to looking
after your clothes, or dressing your hair, or –’
‘No, you’re absolutely right. Somehow I will have to manage by myself. Honestly, Minnie,’ Kerenza chided, ‘to hear you talk, anyone would think I was helpless or stupid.’
‘Now you know that wasn’t what I meant, miss. You can mock all you like. But ’tis never right nor proper. I should be going with you, and that’s the truth.’
I wish you were. Kerenza managed to bite back the words. Minnie’s concern was making this difficult enough already. ‘I know, but it’s just not possible. Rapson tells me that Kestrel only has three passenger cabins, and all are booked. As it is I shall be sharing with another lady. It will be nice to have company. I hope she’s pleasant.’
Minnie sniffed, her frown deepening, but before she could reply the door opened.
‘Ah.’ Aurelia’s gaze swept from the chaos on the counterpane to the neat pile on the carpet. ‘I see you are coming along.’ Catching Kerenza’s eye and reading the silent plea she turned with a smile. ‘Minnie, after all this activity I think my granddaughter would benefit from a cup of hot chocolate. Would you be so kind?’
The maid straightened, nodding in approval. ‘Just what I was thinking myself. Bring one for you as well, shall I, madam?’
‘Yes, do.’ As the door closed, Aurelia seated herself on the padded velvet stool that stood in front of the dressing table. ‘Was Minnie fussing?’
‘I know she means well, but –’ Shaking her head, Kerenza made a space amid the remaining garments and sank down on the bed. Then, seeing anxiety cross her grandmother’s face, she forced a smile. ‘Being limited to one trunk has made it really difficult to choose what I should take.’ She indicated the double stack of neatly folded garments. ‘I thought I would travel in my riding dress. It’s warm, and will leave more room in the trunk for – everything else.’
‘A most sensible idea,’ Aurelia agreed. ‘Now –’ She looked from the trunk to the dressing table. ‘Have you packed creams to protect your face and hands from cold wind and salt spray?’
‘It’s in the little pots beside the soap.’ She hesitated. ‘Nana? You will let me come back, won’t you? You won’t decide I ought to stay with Mama and Dulcie?’
Aurelia reached across and took Kerenza’s hand. ‘Of course not. This is your home for as long as you want. And while you’re away you will be very much missed.’ Though her manner was calm and reassuring, strain was visible in the lines around her eyes.
‘But instead of dwelling on our separation, we must look forward instead to your return. In the meantime we will both have plenty to keep us busy.’ After a brief pause, she leant forward. ‘I’ve been wondering about your mother and sister’s response to all that has befallen them. I have to say that rather than hold them and demand a ransom. I would have expected their captors to pay your father to take them away.’
Startled that her grandmother should actually voice sentiments she had felt guilty even thinking, Kerenza giggled. ‘Nana!’
‘Can you picture them doing anything other than moan and whine and be a burden to all concerned?’
Kerenza tried. ‘No, but –’
‘Exactly. Once they are safely back in Falmouth your task will end and you can return here. In the meantime, however –’
‘I will do all I can to make them comfortable,’ Kerenza promised.
‘Of course you will. But that wasn’t –’ Aurelia rose from the stool and began to pace. Anxiety flared in Kerenza at her grandmother’s uncharacteristic hesitancy. What now?
‘Kerenza, this trip would not be easy for you under any circumstances. But the fact that you must undertake it aboard Kestrel makes it even more difficult. I have not forgotten that for three weeks Nicholas Penrose paid you a degree of attention that encouraged you to believe his affections were seriously engaged and that he would shortly declare himself.’
Startled, Kerenza looked up, heat flooding her face.
‘I may be old –’ her grandmother’s tone was dry ‘– but there is nothing wrong with my eyesight, or my memory. However, I do not believe in prying. I felt sure that if anything occurred about which I should be informed, then you would tell me.’
‘Oh Nana. Why does it have to be this ship?’
‘As to that, you heard what your father said. He must return to Tangier within a certain time. As it will be at least two weeks before another packet leaves for the Mediterranean he has no choice in the matter. Though it does seem curious that Kestrel is to sail again only three days after her return from Lisbon. Such a fast turnaround is most unusual. But no doubt there are excellent reasons. As for Mr Penrose –’ Her features hardened. ‘That he could cut you in public without reason or explanation convinces me he is not and never will be worthy of you.’
Rising, Kerenza gripped her grandmother’s hands. Whether she was giving or seeking reassurance she could not have said. ‘You’re right, Nana. But knowing that doesn’t stop it hurting.’ Her chin quivered.
‘Oh my dear.’ Aurelia’s grasp tightened convulsively. ‘Believe me, if I could bear the pain for you I would. It will lessen, I promise. The important thing is not to let it show. Do not be tempted to question him, Kerenza. If you wish to maintain your dignity you must remain aloof. Only after he has apologised, and assuming you are convinced his apology is sincere, should you allow him to explain the reason for his appalling behaviour.’ Her grip tightened again. ‘My dearest girl, in all honesty, I do not anticipate it. So you must be strong. Easier said than done, I know, but pride and self-respect will assist you.’
So will anger, Kerenza realised. But she would not betray that either. God knew she’d had years of practice at hiding her emotions. Only since coming to live here had she felt secure enough in her grandmother’s love to occasionally drop her guard and reveal how deeply her feelings ran.
While she was aboard Kestrel she would not permit anyone, least of all Nicholas Penrose, to glimpse the passions that simmered behind the mask: the hurt, the betrayal, and worst – most shaming – of all, the yearning for him she had not yet been able to banish.
‘Don’t worry, Nana. I’ll be all right. It was very hard at first. But I’m growing stronger every day.’ She forced herself to smile. ‘I shall be gone only a few weeks. When I return and am boring you to death with tales of my travels, you will wish me away again.’
The next two days flew by in a blur of activity. Word had spread that William Vyvyan was back, looking terrible; but there was neither sight nor sign of his wife or elder daughter. With rumours growing more outlandish by the day, Kerenza faced a barrage of questions every time she ventured outside the front door.
Eventually, though it offended every sensibility, Aurelia reluctantly acknowledged there was only one way to halt the speculation. Rapson was sent to three carefully selected shops where, during the course of making his purchases, he allowed sympathetic inquiries to break down his legendary discretion.
On his return home, he assured his mistress that, unless he was very much mistaken, by nightfall everyone in the village would have been told the facts of the matter. So it proved.
Aware now that Kerenza was sailing with her father to bring her mother and sister home, the villagers wished her well. But their hopes for her safe return were inevitably followed by suggestions of remedies they swore by as preventives or cures for seasickness.
As it hadn’t occurred to Kerenza that she might suffer this malady, their insistent advice increased the weight of her anxiety. For, despite her brave assurances to her grandmother, she was far less confident than anyone could have guessed, both about the voyage and what would be expected of her in Tangier.
Packing a small wooden box with dried and powdered ginger root, arnica ointment for bruises, dried camomile flowers as a sedative and digestive; and a bottle of paregoric, she felt she must surely be prepared for most eventualities. Then Minnie hurried in carrying a jar of thick honey.
‘You mustn’t go without this, miss. My brothers swear by it. O
ut on the boats they’re always getting cut and scratched. Seawater is terrible for turning cuts bad but honey do heal them up in no time. Wonderful stuff it is, miss. My gran do take a spoonful in boiling water for a sore throat. Soothes it lovely, she says. Nothing like it for settling your stomach neither. I was just thinking, you got some long way to go, and ‘tis bound to get rough –’
‘Yes.’ Kerenza forced a smile. ‘Thank you, Minnie. By all means put it in, if you can find space.’
An hour later Rapson tapped on the door and pressed a small flask of brandy into her hands. ‘I hope you will have no need of it, miss. However, it would be foolish indeed to embark on a sea voyage without such an excellent remedy by you. I understand a few drops in water, taken with a hard biscuit, swiftly settle a queasy stomach.’
Even as she swallowed hysterical giggles – why was everyone determined to assume she would be a poor sailor? – Kerenza’s eyes prickled at his kindness. ‘Thank you, Rapson. That is most thoughtful.’
She was about to close the lid when her grandmother entered. She held out a small dark bottle bearing a label on which the word “warning” loomed larger and blacker than the dosage instructions.
‘I obtained this from the apothecary. It’s a mixture of camphor julep, ether, laudanum, and magnesia.’
Kerenza’s brows shot up. ‘That sounds awfully strong, Nana. I really don’t think –’
‘No, my dear, you misunderstand. I did not intend it for you. I see no reason why you should suffer any physical discomfort whatever while at sea. However, I cannot feel the same confidence in your mother and sister. As you will be required to look after both of them on the voyage home, possessing the means to relieve their suffering with a draught that encourages sleep will allow you to get some rest.’
Clutching the bottle tightly, Kerenza hugged her grandmother with heartfelt gratitude. ‘Thank you, Nana.’
Then, after rising at dawn and some last-minute bustle, it was time to go.
