by Gloria Cook
Emilia’s expression was part of an inward scream. ‘What?’
‘What I meant was we could form a partnership. I’ll provide him with a peaceful home until the time is right for you both to reveal your feelings to the world. If I make the effort to reform, hopefully people, through our friendship, Em, will see me in a different light.’
The battered wooden gate to the back garden was opened and Perry appeared. Emilia felt her heart lurch. Her whole bearing moved towards him. She wanted to run to him. Selina gripped her hand. Tightly.
Perry raised his dejected head and his brows lifted in delight and puzzlement. ‘Em…?’
Selina bawled down the path to him, ‘Perry, isn’t it wonderful? Em’s here and she loves you. She’s agreed to be my friend. We’re all going to have a lovely future together.’
Chapter Twenty-Eight
‘Em, you can’t be serious! What are you thinking of, for goodness sake, to be making friends with that woman.’ Ben slapped a hand against his forehead. ‘Selina Bosweld’s a witch! She’s a troublemaker. She’s immoral and she’s cruel. You can’t possibly want her near your children.’
‘Ben, stop shouting at me.’ Emilia turned away from him. They were in the drawing room of Tremore House.
‘Yes, Ben.’ Brooke had come down from upstairs. ‘Stop it. What’s going on? Why were you shouting at Emilia?’
Ben ignored his wife. He hurled himself across the few steps of brick-red Tabriz carpet to face Emilia and startled her by hauling her into his arms and hugging her. His expression, his voice were of the utmost tenderness. ‘I’m sorry, Em. Forgive me. I just cannot agree with what you’ve just told me.’
Emilia shrugged him away. ‘I’ve not made friends with her. I’ve agreed to be friendly, for Perry’s sake. Reggie’s due back from Switzerland soon and he’s asked Selina and Perry to stay on so he can spend some time with them, well, Perry at least.’
‘Why are you so concerned about Perry?’ Ben searched her eyes. ‘He’s a jolly nice bloke but he comes attached to that conniving witch.’
Brooke did not like the way the questions were heading – Emilia might give away her true feelings for Perry under interrogation like this – and she did not like the familiar way Ben was behaving towards her. Emilia looked so fragilely beautiful in a black dress of beaded jersey. ‘Ben, for goodness sake! Leave Emilia alone. You’ve no right to give her the third degree. Perry’s a close friend of the family. Alec liked him. Lottie likes him a lot. He’s good for her now she’s just lost her daddy. For Lottie’s sake it’s worth putting up with Selina. We’re all on to her and her nasty little ways, so she won’t easily be able to cause any more trouble.’
‘That’s easy for you to say,’ Ben rounded on her. ‘You’re about to go off to the other side of the Atlantic and won’t have to put up with her.’
‘If you’re worried about Emilia then keep a watchful eye on her!’ Brooke snapped back. This was a good tactic – Perry would be kept at a distance if Emilia had a brother-in-law in close attendance. Next moment Brooke regretted her suggestion. Ben was gazing at Emilia from large, shining eyes. Adoring eyes.
Brooke felt a dreadful truth dawning on her. She wanted to sit down but pride and the preservation of her dignity made her fight to keep her head clear and remain standing. Ben adored Emilia. Need and desire for her flooded out of every tiny part of him. Talk of Emilia and her circumstances were never far from his lips. Brooke had been thinking it was due to the constant jealousy he had maintained over Alec’s superior position, but now she knew differently. Ben was in love with Emilia. He measured her as female perfection and he wanted her. He had probably never stopped loving her, even during the time of their estrangement. Why hadn’t she seen this before? He’d always made her feel second best, had kept her out of the running of his farm and businesses, while Emilia had been allowed to be involved in all matters concerning Ford Farm, and Ben, damn him, had praised her nearly every week for it.
‘I’ll do that,’ Ben replied simply, but there was a triumphant smile widening his handsome face. Brooke wanted to raise a hand and slap away his smugness. ‘Tris is the elder brother now but he’s too far away to offer urgent help, and Will’s too young. It’s my duty to look out for you, Em.’
‘I don’t need looking out for,’ Emilia stated firmly, unsettled by the tension between Ben and Brooke. And she didn’t want Ben coming to the farm and constantly interfering. ‘I’m perfectly capable of running the farm and I’d be insulted if anyone thinks otherwise. And before you argue with me, Ben, remember I do have my father as manager and Ernest Rule to turn to for other advice. We’re here for a send-off dinner for Brooke. Let’s concentrate on that.’
‘Yes.’ Brooke’s tone was hard and sour. ‘Can we enjoy the evening? It’s supposed to be my evening.’ The way she was feeling now, left out and spurned, she wasn’t sure if she’d come back from America. She was leaving with Faye first thing in the morning for the railway station, to start the journey up to Southampton to join the liner. She just might pack more of her things, including the copy of the photograph of Alec she’d taken at Roskerne. Ben had loved her in the early years together but now he treated her with contempt. He deserved to live his life without his child. She was grinning now. She felt lighter and free, and suddenly she felt she had her own identity again and was not just a part of her husband’s. And the best thing was, the child growing inside her body was Alec’s. It was going to be fun to watch Ben lording it in his house tonight, fawning all over Emilia, not knowing he was about to lose his wife and children – not knowing that Emilia had given her heart to another man. She clapped her hands gaily, making the others wonder about the swift change in her mood. ‘Ah, sounds like the others have arrived. I am going to enjoy this evening very much.’
It was meant to be a family dinner and the three in the drawing room were surprised to see Tristan and Winifred had brought Polly Hetherton with them. Brooke despised Polly, who had marble skin and coiffured fair hair and who unjustly looked years younger than the forty-one she had attained. She was socially witty and was grace and sophistication personified. Polly was a former lover of Ben and she never missed an opportunity to be superior about it.
Polly was a member of the classy set Alec had mixed with in his pre-marriage days to Emilia and she had often, but in vain, tried similar treatment on her. But badly shaken at hearing of Alec’s death before her return from France, she had been kind and sympathetic towards Emilia. She took quick, nimble steps to her. ‘Oh, my dear, you look enchanting. A grieving widow as if from some tragic Arthurian legend. I beg you to be careful. A beautiful young woman, especially with property, will be seen as prey by ruthless men. How are you? How are the children? I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like for you without having a man like Alec.’
‘We’re doing quite well, considering.’ Emilia was embarrassed, for all eyes had flashed to her, examining her with that awful understanding reserved for the bereaved when they were considered unable to cope. Why couldn’t any of them see she had recovered from her moments of weakness in Ernest Rule’s office? Also, she had again experienced the twist of guilt at being unfaithful to Alec. But she accepted it. She should feel the shame of what she’d done to him.
Her thoughts swept to Perry. To his reaction in the garden at Highertown when Selina had blurted out about them all having a lovely future together. Perry’s drooping shoulders had squared, he had lifted his dropped head and his gorgeous dark-blue eyes had lit up as if by a celestial light. His love, like a living entity, had winged across the few yards of neglected path and wrapped itself around her. An exquisite warmth had touched her then and spread throughout her. The depth, height and strength of his love made her dizzy at first, then it had calmed her, filled her with utter joy and wholeness. And her love for him grew ever more powerful. It was right, meant. They were soulmates. She couldn’t send him away. Not ever. Life without Perry would hold no significance; it would make no sense. She would be an
automaton, and she would dry up and be of no use to her beloved family. Lottie would look at her and grow up believing that all there was to life was to be half a woman, half alive.
A smile did not have to fight its way through her guilt and unease. It had formed and it was there, chasing away all the shadows in her face and the doubt in her heart. Perry was to stay in Cornwall for good, and if it meant being friendly with his horrid sister, so be it. The others saw it and all, except Brooke, thought the smile was fashioned out of her strength. Brooke thought, How lucky you are, to have so many men in love with you. Perhaps one day I will find true love too. She wished Emilia no ill will. Emilia had many problems ahead, for Will was becoming very difficult, and if she did end up permanently one day with Perry then Selina would ensure she was part of the package.
‘Good to see you, Polly,’ Ben said, handing her a sweet martini. ‘Tris, why haven’t you brought Jonny and Vee?’
‘There’s a very good reason for that, and it’s why I’ve taken it upon myself to invite Polly here tonight. I think we should all take our drinks and sit down.’
Brooke chose a seat a little back from the company, as if she didn’t belong in it. Ben didn’t notice. He stretched out on a sofa, to where he had managed to guide Emilia. ‘Sounds ominous, Tris. Don’t tell me Jonny’s decided not to go back to Oxford.’
‘He’s going up at the weekend. I’ve talked him into taking Vera Rose out to a lifeboat fundraising do. I didn’t want either of them here.’
Emilia had been studying his, Winifred’s and Polly’s faces. ‘This can only be about Louisa.’
‘Yes, indeed it is.’ Tristan sighed weightily. ‘I’m sure most of you have noticed that she and Jonny have been getting rather close. There’s an undeniable attraction between them, and they of course haven’t any idea it’s because they’re half-brother and sister. There’s no particular problem now – Louisa is only thirteen years old – but in a few years’ time there may well be. I wouldn’t be quite so concerned if I thought Jonny would only view her in the same free way he does most other young women, but it’s obvious he sees her as someone special. So we’re in a fix. What do we do about it? Keep our secret and ensure that if they meet up in the future they never spend time alone or go out on a date? I, for one, don’t ever want the truth to come out and be reminded of the hell of that time all those years ago. Or do we come clean? No doubt we’ll face their wrath for keeping it from them, particularly from Jonny. He believes his half-sister lies with his mother in Kenwyn churchyard.’ For other views, his eyes fell first on Emilia.
‘I hadn’t noticed there was any special relationship forming between them,’ she said. ‘But I’ve had other things on my mind. Over the years, I’ve thought about the possibility of telling Jonny and Louisa the truth. I think if it were me I’d like to know. Jonny might be angry but he’d probably be pleased to learn he has a sister, and Louisa pleased to learn that she’s got a blood relative, to know about her origins. I promised Ursula on her deathbed that I’d look after her baby, but of course I’m not the closest one linked to Louisa.’
‘And what do you think Alec would have said?’ Tristan asked.
‘Alec would have wanted the secret kept,’ she replied at once. ‘He mentioned it to me several times, that he thought nothing good would be gained from the truth. I believe that if he had become aware of any attraction between the two young people he’d have worked to keep them apart.’
‘They may only have a rapport because of their blood link anyway,’ Ben announced, before Tristan could ask for his judgement. ‘They’ve little in common. They’re hardly each other’s type. Louisa’s overseas a lot. Jonny won’t come home every vacation. He’s had a terrible summer, he’ll probably immerse himself in his studies and kick up his heels before enlisting. He and Louisa might not meet up again for years, and if they do she could be engaged or married by then. I think you’re worrying over nothing, Tris.’
‘Thank you for that, Ben.’ Tristan nodded, visibly relaxing now he had another firmly in his camp. ‘Winnie’s of the same mind as me, to keep quiet. Brooke?’
She shrugged. ‘I wasn’t here when all this happened. It’s really nothing to do with me. It’s the decision of the rest of you. I’ll respect whatever you decide.’ She was pleased to be getting away from such a problem-riddled family. She and Faye and, if her baby was a boy, as she was certain it was, young Alec would soon be enjoying an unbound life. The first thing she would do in America was to seek a good divorce lawyer. She’d sting Ben for all she could get. She had just spoken and he hadn’t even glanced at her, aiming encouraging little smiles instead at Emilia. When she was out of the way, no doubt, he would move in on Emilia. Boy, was he in for a surprise.
‘Your turn, Polly,’ Tristan said. ‘You’re probably the closest one involved in this.’
‘Absolutely, I am.’ The pale glaze of Polly’s skin mottled over in vehement shades of red as she turned her fine head in each listener’s direction. ‘I emphatically don’t ever want the truth to come out. If it did, whatever Louisa and Jonny’s initial reactions would be, I’m worried that they might not agree to it remaining a secret between them and us. It would mean telling the younger children in your family, which would inevitably lead to talk and then gossip and scandal. Louisa has a good position in life, but after that she’d be pointed at and laughed about. She has the romantic belief that her mother was some unfortunate engaged girl who got pregnant while her fiancé was on leave and that her father died a hero’s death on the battlefield. If the truth was revealed she’d want to know about her real father, that beastly Bruce Ashley! People still whisper about his affair with Ursula. Louisa would be in grave danger of being socially shunned. As it is, she finds things hard at times owing to her birthmark. And she might want to try to find Ashley. He’s a horrid lounge lizard, a con man, he mixes with criminals. He threatened to kill Tristan. How would she feel, knowing that sort of man was her father? I say let things lie, and if one day, in the unlikely event we’re forced to, we’ll do everything in our power to keep Louisa and Jonny apart.’
A long, thoughtful silence prevailed in the drawing room. When Agnes, Ben’s pole-thin housekeeper, announced dinner was ready to be served, she found the incumbents, all except her mistress, stirring as if from some deep, troubled dream.
‘Thank you, Agnes,’ Brooke said. She was in no mood for formality and led the way to the dining room without an escort.
For a moment no one noticed she had gone on by herself. ‘Well,’ Tristan said, with observable relief. ‘That’s decided then. Shall we follow Brooke?’ At the table, he apologized to her. ‘I’m sorry to have put the dampers on the evening. I thought if we could get that little matter out of the way then we’d be able to wish you a jolly bon voyage.’
‘No need to be sorry, Tris. I’m pleased to see your family of one accord,’ Brooke replied sweetly.
‘You must send us a postcard soon and tell us all about the great skyscraper,’ Winifred said.
‘Oh, I can’t wait to communicate with Ben from New York,’ Brooke said, eyeing her husband, engaged up at the other end of the table in pestering Emila to drink more wine. Forgetting convention, she rose to her feet and raised her own glass, ‘Id like to propose a toast.’
‘For goodness sake, Brooke.’ Ben was horrified. ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’
She smiled, the widest, the prettiest, the most meaningful smile she had ever given him. ‘I’m just saying goodbye to everyone. To you, Ben.’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lottie was milking Bryony, the quietest cow in the thirty-strong herd, a skill her mother had taught her recently, when Emilia had judged she was responsible enough to learn. While Bryony munched on cowcake mixed with barley, Lottie was perched on a stool, wearing a specially cut-down white coat and a grown-up’s cap, the peak turned round to the back to avoid it being knocked off. Her face was pressed in near the cow’s underbelly, her small hands nimbly pulling on the ma
ture, light-brown and white Guernsey’s long, even teats. Bryony never kicked at her milker and her udder bucket could be quickly filled with creamy, frothy milk. Lottie’s expression was set determinedly. She was in the end stall of the cowshed, working alongside her mother, her grandfather, Midge Roach the cowman, and Linda, the sparky, fifteen-year-old dairymaid.
It was early October and the weather was still warm and the flies were prolific and bothersome. Countless biting tiny creatures were attacking the beasts and there was a steady flicking and thrashing of soiled tails to swipe off the pests. Suddenly there was an angry shout from Midge Roach. ‘Bleddy cow! Bleddy flies!’
Without pausing from the double stream of milk she was producing, Lottie bellowed out, ‘What’s he so mazed about then?’
Her regional observation, delivered so workmanlike, struck the others as funny and they all laughed loudly.
‘He got a shitty tail ’cross his face,’ Linda shrieked with hilarity, making her gangly frame rock.
‘Language, please,’ Emilia chided good-humouredly. She had been busy with Willow, a Jersey-Guernsey cross. She took her full bucket of milk and put it aside. It would be taken to the dairy and poured into wide, shallow pans to stand overnight so the cream could rise for butter making. It was good working like this, the next generation eager to learn all about the dairy, yard and fieldwork. Tom had helped drive in the cattle from the fields and was now grooming the plough horses. Will was the only dissenter. He did as few jobs as he could now and concentrated on his homework, saying that he wanted only to follow Jonny’s example into high academic achievement and the Royal Air Force. Emilia understood his sense of hurt and rejection at not being named next in line for his father’s property and she allowed him his churlish moods, hoping to be able to talk to him soon and bridge the gap that had opened up between them.
