Pengarron Pride

by Pengarron Pride (retail) (epub)

  Oliver looked serious when he raised his head. ‘I’m here for two reasons, Jack, three if you count me looking in on you.’

  A terrible thought raised Jack’s voice a note too high. ‘It’s not Master Luke is it? He’s not—’

  ‘No, Jack. We think Luke is over the worst. He was sleeping quite peacefully a short time ago.’

  ‘I’m some glad to hear that,’ Jack said, puffing out his relief. ‘Poor little fellow…’

  ‘First of all, Jack, I want to thank you for trying to protect Her Ladyship on the day you were attacked. It was a very brave thing that you did and a dreadful experience for you both. It was a shock to learn of it. I feel responsible for what happened, and ashamed.’ Oliver spoke as intimately as to a close friend. ‘None of these terrible things would have happened if I had been here.’

  ‘You mustn’t say that, sir. And I really didn’t do anything. Didn’t even get a blow on one of ’em before I was laid out on the ground. It was Her Ladyship who got help, and her with the baby coming… Has she told you she let me choose the little one’s name, Ann?’

  Oliver raised his eyebrows and it made Jack blush and look away.

  ‘No, I don’t mind, Jack. I have a lot of lost time to make up and these last twenty-four hours have given me one shock after the other. No matter, I shall learn all there is to know when I’ve had the opportunity to speak to Her Ladyship at length, and eventually you may know where I have been and what I’ve been doing for the last six months.’

  ‘There’s no need for that, sir. You must have had your reasons. You don’t have to explain anything to me,’ Jack protested loyally.

  ‘It will be necessary, to put an end to all the speculation and wild gossip that doubtless is being circulated in the parish. I feel my servants, many of whom I regard as my friends, deserve a full explanation.’ Oliver fiddled with his pocket watch. He opened the casing and glanced at the gold hands inside without registering the time. ‘And now, Jack, I fear my other reason for being here will greatly upset you.’

  ‘I’ve done something wrong, sir?’ Jack frowned, letting his feet fly forward.

  ‘No, Jack, be easy on that score. When Luke fell across the boulder yesterday, he saw something, something that very much frightened him. Since then he’s had terrible nightmares, so I decided to search about at the scene of the accident myself. I quickly found what had upset him so much. Lying over that boulder, Luke saw a body. It must have been there for some time… Jack, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, it was the body of Heather Bawden.’

  Jack groaned and raised his hands into fists. ‘Oh no. But how? How did she get there?’

  ‘In all probability it happened on the night she disappeared, the same night you met her on the moorland. From the position of her body it appears she stumbled over a smaller block of granite, hitting her head heavily on the boulder Luke was thrown onto. She was lying out of sight of the track, with her cloak and lantern close by.’ Oliver put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. ‘I’m sorry, Jack. I know you had a fondness for the girl.’

  Jack was crying, rocking himself back and forth with his arms wrapped about himself. ‘She… she ran away from me… she wanted me to… to… but I didn’t know what to do. She got proper mazed. Shouting and screaming, swearing worse ’n any man I’ve heard. Then I heard her scream, just once, then silence. That’s when she must’ve… fallen over.’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault, Jack. I’ll see she gets a decent burial.’

  ‘It might have been my fault she died,’ Jack sobbed, then abruptly stopped crying. He wiped his eyes with his knuckles and dug his toes into the wooden floor. ‘She may not have died right away. She might have lain there all night, too hurt or dazed to cry out for help and I could have saved her, she might have died from the cold… in pain…’

  ‘I don’t believe that to be so,’ Oliver stressed, feeling sorry for Jack and wishing he could put things right for him. ‘The girl had a terrible head injury. I’m not a physician but I am sure no one could have survived such a fall. You must not torture yourself.’

  Jack considered this, sniffing deeply because he had no handkerchief. ‘But why wasn’t she found before this?’

  Oliver gave the matter thought, then offered, ‘It’s a little way off the beaten track, by the spring. The body was partially hidden by grasses, heather and ferns, easy to miss unless you knew exactly where to look.’

  ‘Poor Heather, all the time we was working on the meeting house we never knew she was lying only a few yards away. Sir?’

  ‘Yes, Jack?’

  ‘I’ve… I’ve had nothing to do with women since that night, all I want to do now with the rest of my life is to serve you and Her Ladyship.’

  Oliver got up and pressed a firm hand on Jack’s shoulder. ‘One day you may change your mind, but do whatever pleases you, Jack. You may rest assured you will always have a place here.’ He left the room; it was time to leave the young groom alone with his grief.

  * * *

  It was evening. Oliver was out in the stable yard. He had stepped outside for a few moments of cool fresh air and to smoke his pipe. He heard boots on the cobblestones and looked up to see Bob rushing to defend his territory from another retriever. He called to Bob and he reluctantly came back to stand obediently at heel; the other dog was a bitch and Bob had smelled some sport.

  Clem Trenchard walked up to Oliver, head up, eyes blazing the intention of not leaving until his business for being there was done. He stopped a few short inches away and ordered Charity to lie down.

  Oliver and Clem eyed each other, weighing up the other’s mood. Oliver could see Clem had no subservient feelings towards him but he thought that in different circumstances, without the love they both had for Kerensa creating an unbridgeable chasm between them, he could get to like the sulky-faced farmer. Clem took in the changes in the baronet’s appearance and pursed his lips. Oliver knew that Clem would never like him for a moment.

  ‘I take it you’ve heard about my son?’ Oliver said shortly.

  ‘That’s why I’m here,’ Clem replied stonily. ‘Alice couldn’t come because Jessica has a bit of a fever and wouldn’t let Alice leave her.’

  ‘Nothing serious, I hope.’

  ‘No, ’tis nought but a child’s runny nose but Alice has always run to her. I said I’d come over to see how your boy is. Alice is very worried about him and Kerensa.’ Clem said Kerensa’s name as if he was challenging Oliver to rebuke him. ‘The whole estate’s fair buzzing with the news of the accident, and the finding of the girl’s body, and,’ he looked at Oliver purposefully, ‘your return.’

  ‘Does my return not suit you, Trenchard?’

  ‘No, to be honest, but ’tis your place to be here, not gadding off somewhere and allowing your family and servants to fall into all manner of trouble.’

  At one time Oliver would have been furious to be spoken to like this, but he nodded and said, ‘My father would have had you horse-whipped for saying such things to him.’

  ‘Why not you?’ Clem challenged, standing ready, as if to ward off being struck.

  ‘You know that kind of retribution is not my way, Trenchard. A short time ago I would have fought you, cleanly and fairly, but now it doesn’t matter. I am back and I have Kerensa. I don’t give a tinker’s cuss about what you think of me.’

  Quite unexpectedly, Clem smiled wryly, but he said, ‘Feeling your age, are you?’

  ‘I think age, breeding, maturity, and a pleasant personality win every time over the likes of you, Trenchard.’

  Clem did not blanch but just looked steadily back. It seemed neither man was to be provoked. Oliver realised that Clem Trenchard, too, must have undergone changes in his absence.

  The dogs crept forward on their bellies and sniffed at each other, wanting to get more friendly.

  Oliver pulled out his tobacco pouch. ‘You can tell Alice that Luke is sleeping most of the time,’ he said. ‘Dr Crebo is of the opinion he will pull through but we won’t relax
until a few more days have passed.’

  ‘Aye, ’tis natural to worry. I hear his arm is pretty bad.’

  Oliver filled his pipe, then in an intimidating gesture offered the pouch to Clem. Clem considered refusing, but accepted it as though he was a man of equal standing.

  They began to pace the yard, puffing fragrant smoke on the cool breeze. Grass and moss were growing between the cobblestones and Oliver kicked disapprovingly at a weed.

  ‘This is the sort of thing that happens when a man goes away for a while.’

  ‘Aye,’ Clem said, ‘and it was a long while in your case. The stable boys must be finding it hard with Jack laid up, a lot of responsibility for them.’

  Bob and Charity had followed faithfully on their heels but basic instinct soon took over and they sniffed each other and suddenly scurried off.

  As they walked, the two men were thinking about each other. Deeply jealous that his baby had been delivered by Clem, Oliver was wondering what effect Kelynen’s birth had had on him. Clem was eager to know what sort of reception the baronet had received from Kerensa, and what he thought about all that had happened since his departure.

  They moved out of the stable yard and rounded the side of the house. Clem had never been here before and was impressed by the wealth of colour each side of the summer house. Sweet william, gladioli, hydrangea bushes flowering with blue, white, pink and purple crowns. The gardens were immaculate; Jake Angove and the under-gardeners had not slackened in their work.

  Clem pointed to the patches of wild flowers growing among some of the more formal flowers. ‘They must be Kerensa’s touch. I couldn’t imagine her living without her wild flowers.’

  ‘You are correct, Trenchard.’ Oliver was stung by the familiarity with which Clem spoke of Kerensa. He realised that next to himself and perhaps Alice, Clem knew more about her than anybody. What a fool he had been to risk losing her to him. He vowed he would never run such a risk again.

  Clem was watching his face, trying to read his mind. ‘So, she’s taken you back, has she?’

  ‘That’s none of your damned business!’ Oliver snarled.

  ‘I can always make it my business,’ Clem threatened coolly.

  ‘Don’t you be too sure of that, Trenchard,’ Oliver hurled back.

  ‘She’s a fool to love you, Pengarron. You don’t deserve her. I hate you for what you put her through all these months.’

  ‘Again, it’s none of your damned business, Trenchard, but I’ll tell you this, Kerensa will always love me.’

  ‘Aye, I know, although only God knows why.’

  Oliver stooped to tap out his pipe on the soil. ‘You’ll always hate me, won’t you?’

  ‘To my grave.’

  Oliver looked nonchalantly at his pipe as he cupped the warm bowl in the palm of his hand. ‘And for that I don’t give a tinker’s cuss either.’

  Clem nodded and puffed on the air. ‘I’d be surprised if you did.’

  The men stared at each other again. Challenge lay heavy in the air, only a breath away from physical confrontation.

  Then Clem asked evenly, ‘How is the baby keeping?’

  No man asked after a baby unless it meant something to him. Oliver didn’t like the question but in the circumstances he could not begrudge an answer.

  ‘My daughter is very well,’ he said, in a tone that forbade further questions.

  They fell into an uneasy silence. It dawned on Oliver that it was Clem who had suggested Kelynen’s name. Oliver hated the very thought of it and resolved he would never call his daughter by that name.

  Olivia came running up, smiling. She stopped between them and looked up, puzzled at the grim faces. She turned her pretty auburn head from man to man, her face dropping. Oliver swept her possessively up in his arms and kissed her. She kissed him back and he was surprised when she addressed Clem.

  ‘Have you brought Jessica to play, Clem?’

  ‘No, not this time, Olivia,’ Clem said, looking at Oliver, whom he was sure had not been told yet of the arrangement their wives had made about their children mixing and playing together.

  ‘This time?’ Oliver asked sharply.

  ‘Aye,’ Clem answered stoutly, ‘there’s been a lot of changes since you took off. Since Kelynen’s birth Kerensa and Alice have wanted your children and mine to grow up knowing each other. I don’t like it but I agreed to it, eventually. They both went on at me about it, and they’re anxious for it to continue.’

  Oliver studied the handsome fair-haired young man and hated him three-fold for having so much to do with his family. He knew he could do nothing to alter the arrangement without causing a major upset and he was certain that Kerensa would not tolerate it if he tried. He was careful not to show his disapproval but he wanted to wipe the smugness off Clem’s face.

  Kissing Olivia again, he said, ‘You must tell me all about it later, sweeting.’

  ‘The boys fight,’ Olivia said, hugging Oliver’s neck and pulling at his hair.

  Oliver began to walk back to the stable yard. He would tolerate Clem Trenchard’s presence on his property no longer. Clem fell in step beside him.

  ‘I can’t imagine our sons getting along, Trenchard,’ Oliver said dryly, over his shoulder.

  ‘Kane’s amiable enough, but the twins and Luke fight like he-goats.’

  ‘So there’s rivalry between the next generation, yours and mine, Trenchard.’

  ‘’Tis not unexpected. What could they possibly have in common?’

  ‘Nothing I can think of, but I suppose only time will tell.’

  Back in the stable yard Clem spotted Jack watching from his bedroom window and gave him a friendly wave. He wondered if Kerensa was behind one of the numerous windows, watching them too, anxious to know what was being said between the two men she professed to love.

  He smiled gently at Olivia, whose face was so much like the one he loved, then looked at Oliver.

  ‘I’m serious in the hope that the boy makes a full recovery,’ he said briefly.

  ‘At least I can thank you for that, Trenchard.’

  Olivia asked to be put down and ran into the house. Oliver and Clem did not bid each other goodbye. They thought they knew the measure of each other and somehow both were content to leave it at that – for now.

  As Clem returned to his family, Oliver went quickly to Luke’s room. The sight of his own gathered there melted the uneasiness that Clem’s visit had put round his heart. Kerensa looked up and smiled warmly as she sat cradling their baby beside Luke’s bed. Luke was wide awake and quiet on his pillows. Kane and Olivia were sitting on the foot of the bed holding hands and wriggling their stockinged feet in the bedcovers. Oliver grinned as a mischievous glint came into Luke’s dark eyes and he poked his tongue out at his brother and sister. Tomorrow he and Kerensa would ride to Marazion to tell another brood of brothers and sisters that they were part of the Pengarron family too.

  Chapter 31

  Jenifer Drannock looked proudly at all her children. At her request they had gathered round her bed after breakfast. They were all burning with curiosity, wanting to know why she had asked them to dress up and be on their best behaviour. Naomi and Hannah, her two eldest daughters, were secretly worried that Jenifer had felt her end had come and wanted one long last look at her children before she died. Charles and Jack, grumbling at having to wear neckcloths, wanted to get down on the floor and play, but warning looks from their big sisters kept them in line. Cordelia, the baby of the family, tiny and elfin-faced, looked like a sweetmeat wrapped in fancy paper in her frilled and flounced silk dress. Only Bartholomew looked the part, as a man of means, wearing his suit of tailored clothes with a natural, elegant flair.

  ‘We must be expecting someone, Mother,’ Hannah said, tidying things unnecessarily, ‘or you wouldn’t want us all up here like this else, would you?’

  ‘You’ll see, soon enough,’ Jenifer said, her children becoming still so they could hear her faint voice.

  ‘Are we havi
ng company, Mam?’ Charles asked with an expression on his face that usually wound his mother round his little finger.

  The others looked at Charles eagerly then quickly at Jenifer. Charles had a knack of wheedling out secrets, but not this time. Jenifer just smiled mysteriously, then sighed. She was unsure how her children would take the news she and Sir Oliver Pengarron were soon to tell them. Bartholomew, of course, would not be surprised, and as an admirer of the baronet she was certain he would be delighted. Hannah and Naomi had always maintained that Bartholomew’s they, or he at least, might have Pengarron blood in their veins was nothing more than wishful thinking. The three little ones, Charles, Jack and Cordelia, were too young really to understand, but Jenifer thought they would be excited in varying degrees.

  Jenifer knew that if the children allowed him, Oliver would take them fully under his wing and she had no qualms about this, especially since he had come back from his travels purged of his dangerous pride. And Kerensa would mother them, whatever their age; she had practically adopted the strapping eighteen-year-old Bartholomew, as well as the little ones, since she had become too ill to mother them herself. And the children would have cousins of position and influence. They would never have to feel they were inferior to her own family, the Milderns. Jenifer felt that no woman could die happier and have so few worries about the children she would leave behind.

  Bartholomew was looking out of the window watching the fishing boats in the bay around Newlyn and Mousehole, picking out the luggers he recognised, hoping they had brought in a good catch, wishing them good luck for the morrow, glad that he wouldn’t be going with them.

  ‘I see Cap’n Solomon’s ship is moored up at the Mount,’ he said, then mischievously, ‘Don’t tell me ’tis he who’s calling on us, Mother? You should have said, then I would have put my party suit on.’

  ‘It is not Captain Solomon,’ Jenifer replied.

  ‘Then it is someone!’ shouted Naomi, who was inclined to loud outbursts.

  ‘Shush, child,’ said her frail mother. ‘Oh, very well, stop looking at me, all of you. Yes, we are expecting visitors, very important ones. I didn’t tell you before because I didn’t want you to get over-excited or anxious.’