I had not seen Jowan Jermyn since I had come down. In the first days we had been too concerned about the birth to think of anything else; and afterwards there was so much to do with Mary Grace’s arrival. I had simply not had the opportunity of going off alone.
But now there were the sittings and that left me a certain amount of free time.
I did not feel I should go to the field in search of him, for it was hardly likely that he would be there. It was some little time since I had arrived in Cornwall and I had made no attempt to see him. I could not expect him to be there every day just on the chance that I might come.
What a ridiculous state of affairs this feud was! If he could have telephoned to Tregarland’s it would have been so different.
I would just take a ride. The country was always interesting; and at this time of the year there were no visitors, which gave it an added charm.
I rode inland, skirting the Jermyn estate, past woods and fields which were new to me. Every now and then I caught a glimpse of the coastline. It was beautiful on this day. There was a benign touch about the wind which came in from the sea. It was caressing.
I felt pleased with life. Dorabella was well. She had really frightened me with her talk of dreams and making me swear to look after the child who, she was sure, would be motherless.
That was Dorabella. Always looking for drama.
I loved Tristan already. When I went to the nursery Nanny Crabtree would allow me to hold him and he did not protest.
Nanny Crabtree said: “He likes his aunty Violetta, don’t you…little pet?”
He cast on her that inscrutable look which gave him the appearance of a sage. Then he turned his blue stare on me.
“I believe he’s smiling at me,” I said.
“Could be a touch of the wind,” said Nanny Crabtree, taking him from me.
He opened his mouth in protest and she handed him back. He settled in my arms and stared at me. That gesture endeared him more than ever to me. He was mine after that.
I was thinking of this as I rode along.
I was not far from the Jermyn estate when I met Jowan. He was riding a big black horse and saw me from a distance and came riding up.
“Hello!” he cried. “Why haven’t we met till now?”
“Because our paths have not crossed until this moment.”
He gave me a reproachful look.
“I was at the rendezvous.”
“Oh, I am sorry. We’ve had a busy time.”
“I know, of course. The news has come through. A boy. Tristan. A good old Cornish name.”
“That’s what my sister said, and she is keeping in the opera tradition at the same time.”
“Splendid. What about a drink at one of our inns?”
“I’d like to, but I haven’t time now. My sister will be expecting me back.”
He looked disappointed, which gave me a great deal of pleasure.
“I think,” he said, “that you and I should break this foolish habit!”
“You mean…?”
“If I cannot call on you, you must come to my place. Then we won’t have to meet as if by chance or a sort of haphazard arrangement. I am going to invite you to my home. Will you come?”
I hesitated.
“Oh, please. We are not going to allow ourselves to be governed by this silly story which has been going on all this time. We’ll break through it. We’ll scandalize the neighborhood. Come to my home. When shall it be?”
I said: “It would be something which we should undertake with some caution, perhaps.”
“Why? If we are going to kick through restrictions, shouldn’t we do it boldly?”
“I am only a guest here, you know. It is hardly for me to blaze a trail.”
“Do you mean you won’t come?”
“Suppose I came for tea? I could do that without having to make an announcement to the household. I do not understand Mr. Tregarland Senior. I think he might be amused. I am not sure of my sister’s husband, nor Mrs. Lewyth…who, I believe, takes a great pride in the family.”
“And your sister?”
“She would be in full agreement with you. She would think such a visit would be interesting and amusing.”
“Well then. Tomorrow afternoon. Three o’clock? Half past two?”
“Half past two,” I said. “My sister rests at that time. I shall tell her. Then she will not be worried if I don’t get back promptly. She does worry about things like that.”
“For instance at the time of the cliff rescue?”
“Yes, that was certainly one time.”
“How is she?”
“Very well, but she still gets a little tired.”
“And the baby?”
“He’s delightful.”
“And you’ve got your old nanny.”
“So you have already heard of her.”
“She seems to be a person of some standing. But she is not Cornish and that is a black mark against her.”
“I can assure you Nanny Crabtree is a match for any.”
“That is what I gathered.”
“You are so well informed.”
“The subject is of particular interest to me.”
I felt light-hearted, as always, with him.
His last words were: “Tomorrow. Two thirty. I shall wait your coming with pleasure.”
When I arrived back I went straight to Dorabella. She was lying on her bed and when she saw me she cried: “Where have you been? What’s happened? You look different.”
“What do you mean…different?”
“Something exciting has happened. I know what it is. You’ve seen that Jermyn man.”
“Well…”
She laughed. “You have…then?”
“Yes…”
“I always know. He must be fascinating. You ought to bring him here.”
“Well, as a matter of fact, I am going to visit him tomorrow.”
She was overcome with amusement.
“I can’t wait to hear the outcome.”
“Oh, it’s nothing much.”
“Nothing much! Right into the enemy’s camp. We won’t say anything about it here. You never know how they’d take it.”
I wondered if they would care. I had seen very little animosity to the Jermyns here and I knew Jowan felt none toward them. The feud was something which was kept going because the families were too indifferent to change it; it was the people around who liked to create a drama where it did not exist.
The next afternoon when I was setting out for the appointment, I encountered Seth in the stables.
“You be wanting Starlight, Miss?” he asked.
I told him I did. He looked at me strangely. I wondered if he had heard where I was going. He could not have done so yet. So far it was between Jowan and myself. It would be after I had visited his home that the gossip would start.
Seth was trying to say something. He stammered: “Don’t ’ee go there, Miss. Don’t ’ee go.”
I was amazed. I thought, Can he really know where I am going?
“ ’Ee don’t want to see ’er again, Miss. It might not be…”
“Go where, Seth?” I asked.
He pointed toward the sea.
“You mean the beach? No, no, I shan’t be going there. I wouldn’t dream of taking Starlight down to the beach.”
“There’s some of them take the horses there. They go along the beach at a gallop.”
“I don’t plan to do that.”
He gave me a sly smile. “Don’t want to tempt ’un, Miss.”
I really wasn’t sure who was to be tempted. I guessed it was the Jermyn ghost who he believed had lured the first Mrs. Tregarland into the sea.
Poor Seth. I was sorry for him. And it was kind of him to be concerned for me.
He patted Starlight’s flank lovingly, and I rode out of the stables.
It was another warmish day, ideal for riding. There was scarcely any wind and inland I could see a faint blue mist settl
ing over the trees.
I turned my horse and rode toward the Jermyn estate. This time I should go straight to the house.
I rode along for about half a mile and there was the house. It was not as ancient as Tregarland’s but impressive. It was built in that silver gray stone which they call Elvan and with which I had become familiar since my arrival in Cornwall.
I went through a gate into a turfed forecourt and facing me was a heavy iron-studded door. I was wondering whether to dismount when the door opened and Jowan stood there.
“I was waiting for you,” he said. “Punctual as usual.”
He patted Starlight as he smiled at me. Then he held me to dismount.
“Charlie,” he shouted, and a man hurried out.
“Yes, sir.”
“Take the lady’s horse.”
He turned to me and took my arm.
“So this is your home,” I said.
“Yes. Do you like it?”
“From what I have seen, it is magnificent.”
“I like it,” he said. “I’m looking forward to showing it to you.”
I stood in the hall and looked around. It was not unlike all such halls. It had a plaster ceiling, the main ribs of which were set on corbels decorated with oak leaves. On one of the walls were the entwined initials J and S.
My eyes rested on it and he said: “Jowan and Sarah. They built the house three hundred years ago, and it was the custom to have such entwined initials. It could become embarrassing if the marriage didn’t work out and there was a second wife, and she had to spend her married life with the constant reminder of her predecessor. I can tell you that is not the only spot where you will find those initials.”
He pointed out the minstrels’ gallery.
“I plan to use that one day for its original purpose, out of respect for old customs. Some of them are worth preserving. Now let me show you the rest of the house and you can tell me what you think of it.”
“It is beautiful,” I said. “You must be proud of it.”
“It has not been long in my possession and I am still a trifle bemused by the fact. But come along. Here are the screens—they lead to the kitchen. That is a part I will leave to your imagination. The servants are there.” He grimaced. “It would make their deductions too easy if I introduced you to them. Let us leave them to their own speculations.”
“They are going to talk about my being here.”
“Let them. But you are not a Tregarland, so perhaps that will modify the betrayal of the past. Now, there are several rooms leading from the hall. This staircase goes to the library and beyond that is the drawing room. That is the old solar. It is the best room in the house. We shall have tea there. It is very light, with semicircular bay windows—of a much later period than the rest of the house. They were put in over a hundred years ago.”
I followed him through the house. The west wing was in a dilapidated state.
“It has been much neglected,” he told me. “My plan is to restore the place completely.”
I could hear the pride in his voice as he pointed out the special features, showed me the restoration work he had already completed, and told me what he planned to do.
He said: “I can’t show you everything on one visit. This is just a cursory look round. We can go into it with more detail at some other time if you are interested.”
“I am,” I said.
“I’m glad because it is something of a passion with me. I want to make this house what it should be and what it was before it was allowed to deteriorate.”
He seemed different from the young man who had sat with me in those inn parlors drinking cider or mulled wine. It occurred to me that people could be very different against their own backgrounds. I felt that I was seeing him as he really was. He was really earnest about the restoration of his own house; previously I thought he could not be serious about anything and that life seemed to him little else but a joke.
In due course we returned to the solar which was filled with pale December sunshine. Tea was brought by a maid who could not hide her curiosity. I guessed that she knew I came from Tregarland’s.
I learned more about Jowan Jermyn.
He had owned the house for two years, although he had spent his childhood here. His father was the younger son of that Charles Jermyn on whose death the house had gone to Jowan’s father’s elder brother, Joseph.
“The house had been neglected for years,” he said. “I always had a special feeling for it. We had a place on the north coast, for, when my father married, he went to live in north Cornwall, where I was born. My mother never recovered from my birth and died three years after it. My grandfather had been artistic and was not interested in the material things of life. I came here and was brought up by my grandmother. Uncle Joseph was of a somewhat profligate nature. He was a great gambler and spent a great deal of time in London. He had little feeling for the country. His lack of interest grieved my grandmother. Uncle Joseph was an unsatisfactory Jermyn. He did not marry, although he had several children. He did not want family ties, and so on. He inherited the house in due course. My father, who loved this place, could not bear to be near and it not be his. He knew the way it would go because old houses need constant attention, and when some little deterioration shows it should be dealt with immediately. So I was deposited with my grandmother while he went to New Zealand. I was to join him when he was ready to have me. I did not want to go. I wanted to stay with my grandmother in this house.”
“But you came back to it eventually?”
“It worked out unexpectedly. I was eighteen when my father died. He had left his place in New Zealand to me. I did not want to go abroad; my grandmother did not want me to leave. She was very sad about the house, which was in a dire state by this time. Uncle Joseph was only interested in the revenues which came from the place.”
“And you went to New Zealand?”
“Yes. I was there for four years. Then I heard that Uncle Joseph had died prematurely, which was not altogether surprising. He had been drinking too heavily for years. My father was heir to the estate and, since he had died, it fell to me. I sold up everything in New Zealand and came home. I have been here ever since.”
“Your grandmother…?”
“You’ll meet her. She is in her room most of the time nowadays.”
“You mean she is here?”
He nodded. “Where else would she be? She loves me place. It is an interest we share.”
“And…what about the feud?”
He laughed. “She feels about that as I do…as you do. A lot of nonsense.”
“That’s the sensible view, of course.”
“Yes, but in spite of that, it has been going on for a long time.”
“It is due to the superstitious people around us. They have kept it going all this time.”
“I suppose it supplies a little excitement, something to talk about.”
“That’s so, and, of course, since the first Mrs. Tregarland died it brought it up again.”
“But the families were never friendly. We needed a visitor from ‘foreign parts’ to set it right.”
I laughed. “Do you think the fact that you have invited me here is going to change all that?”
“I think it is the first step.”
We talked for a long time and I glanced at my watch.
“I shall have to go,” I said, “Dorabella will be anxious to hear about this visit.”
He stood up and, taking my hand, helped me to rise. He held it for some time while he smiled at me. I felt deep pleasure.
“Before you go,” he said, “you must say hello to my grandmother.”
“I should very much like that.”
“Come on, then.”
He led me up a staircase, through a gallery to a corridor, and then up more stairs.
He opened the door of a room which was clearly a sitting room and, through an open door, I saw a four-poster bed. Mrs. Charlotte Jermyn was sitting in a chair, a piece
of crochet work in her hands. She looked over the top of her spectacles as I came in.
“Grandmother,” said Jowan. “I have brought her to show you and to show you to her.”
She smiled. “Well, this is nice.” She had dropped the crochet into her lap and held out her hand.
“I’m a bit stiff today,” she said. “It’s my rheumatism. It is worse some days than others. They say this damp climate is not good for it. Well, Miss Denver, it is nice to see you here. Jowan has told me about you.”
“I am so pleased to be here and to meet you.”
She laughed. “It’s time someone put their feet through that nonsense. I guessed Jowan would be the one to do it. And now your sister is up there and you are a frequent visitor.”
“I came for the birth of the baby and shall be staying until after Christmas.”
“That is good. We always have a real Cornish Christmas here. We call it keeping up the old customs. Tell me about your sister and the new baby.”
I told her and we talked awhile.
Jowan watched us in an amused way, pleased, I could see, that we were getting on well together.
I was sorry that I had to leave, but I could imagine Dorabella’s impatience, so I said I must go.
“You’ll come again,” said Mrs. Jermyn. “I shall look forward to seeing you.”
It was with reluctance that at last I left.
Dorabella was very impatient to hear what had happened. She was eager to meet Jowan and suggested that he be invited to the house. To dinner? To lunch, perhaps, would be best for a start.
“He sounds fun,” she said, looking at me searchingly.
I knew what was in her mind, just as I knew what had been in my mother’s concerning Richard Dorrington.
I said: “You should make sure that the family approve. Don’t forget, this feud has been going on for a hundred years or more. You come into the family and want to break it up.”
“I want to break it up! Who fell off her horse and started it up by meeting him secretly, going to his house, meeting his grandmother…” She giggled. “All right. I’ll suggest it to Dermot.”
“I think Dermot’s father should be the one to make the decision. After all, he is the head of the household.”
“Very well. But I think he’d love it.”
“And what about Matilda?”
Philippa Carr - [Daughters of England ] Page 22
