Miss Mary’s Daughter

by Diney Costeloe

  ‘What about the people who live in that house just above the village?’ suggested Sophie. ‘Surely they’d be the right sort of people for her to mix with.’

  ‘So they might be,’ acknowledged Charles. ‘But their children are older, and we have no contact with them,’ adding by way of further explanation, ‘My grandfather does not know them.’

  ‘You must have a very small circle of friends, Charles,’ said Sophie, adding almost without thinking, ‘You must be as lonely as poor AliceAnne.’

  Charles stiffened and Sophie recognized at once that she’d spoken too freely.

  ‘I’m perfectly happy with my life, thank you, cousin,’ he said stiffly, ‘and I think you can trust me to look after my own daughter’s best interests.’ With this he turned away, saying, ‘It’s time I dressed for dinner.’

  Sophie remained at the piano for several minutes after he’d gone, feeling suddenly dispirited. She had, for a fleeting instant, seen another Charles, hidden beneath his formal, outward self. She’d had a glimpse of his rare smile, and suddenly she knew she wanted to see it again. There had been a brief moment of harmony, a moment when they’d been completely at ease in each other’s company.

  But now I’ve spoiled things by seeming to criticize how he’s bringing up AliceAnne, thought Sophie gloomily. ‘But I’m right,’ she announced to the empty drawing room as she rose to go upstairs. ‘AliceAnne needs children of her own age to play with, or she’ll grow up as dour as her father.’

  12

  Thomas did not leave his bed next morning and Sophie spent the first part of the day with her grandfather. Paxton had collected the newspaper and it was while she was reading this to him that the doctor arrived. Louisa brought him up to the bedroom where Thomas was still lying in bed.

  ‘Dr Bryan’s here, Father,’ she said, and when she saw the look of annoyance on her father’s face she added sharply, ‘I didn’t send for him, Father. He simply decided to call.’ It was clear to Sophie that Louisa was no more pleased to see the doctor than Thomas was. Louisa stood aside and Nicholas Bryan came into the room, a broad smile on his handsome face.

  ‘Good morning, sir,’ he cried before Thomas could speak. ‘And how do I find you this morning?’ Not waiting for a reply, he turned to Sophie and continued, ‘Good morning, Miss Ross, what a beautiful day. Such a change from yesterday.’

  ‘What have you come for?’ grumbled Thomas. ‘I’m not ill.’

  ‘No, indeed,’ agreed Nicholas cordially, ‘and that’s the way we want to keep it. But you were ill, you know, sir, so I just want to keep an eye on you and make sure there’s no relapse.’ He glanced meaningfully at Sophie and Louisa, saying, ‘So, if you would excuse us, ladies?’

  Louisa nodded and turned for the door. ‘Come, Sophie,’ she said. ‘We must let the doctor make his examination.’

  ‘But come back, Sophie, when he’s gone,’ instructed her grandfather. There was a slightly wavering note in the old man’s voice and Sophie smiled at him reassuringly. ‘Of course I will, Grandpapa. I’ll be waiting downstairs.’

  ‘I don’t like the way that young man arrives uninvited and unannounced,’ muttered Louisa once they were out of the room.

  ‘But surely, Aunt, he has my grandfather’s best interests at heart,’ said Sophie.

  ‘Has he?’ replied Louisa. ‘Or is it that the more he visits, the higher his bill?’

  Sophie was shocked. ‘How can you think so?’ she asked. ‘Truly, Aunt Louisa, I think you must be mistaken in him.’

  ‘We shall see.’ Louisa sniffed, and walked through to the kitchen, leaving Sophie standing in the hall.

  Sophie turned to the drawing room, intending to play the piano until Dr Bryan left. But as she reached the door, she heard a scuffle behind her, and once again saw AliceAnne emerging from under the chenille cloth on the hall table. The sight of the little girl creeping out from her hiding-place made her smile and she said, ‘AliceAnne, what are you doing under there?’

  ‘Hiding,’ whispered AliceAnne, glancing anxiously around her.

  ‘Hiding? Who from?’

  ‘From the doctor.’

  ‘From the doctor?’ Sophie cocked her head. ‘Why would you hide from the doctor?’

  ‘Because I don’t like him.’

  ‘I see.’ Sophie didn’t see, but she thought there was no point in continuing this particular conversation. Perhaps Dr Bryan had attended the little girl and given her some foul-tasting medicine. It would be enough to frighten a child of her age. Sophie decided to try and turn the child’s mind in a different direction.

  ‘Would you like to begin your piano lessons, AliceAnne?’ she suggested. She was rewarded with a dazzling smile, like the sun breaking through on a cloudy day; a smile reminiscent of the one Sophie had seen on AliceAnne’s father’s face the previous afternoon.

  What a difference a smile can make, she thought, as she led the way into the drawing room. She threw back the heavy curtains and sunlight flooded into the room. Dr Bryan had been right when he said it was a beautiful day.

  She seated AliceAnne at the piano and pulling up a chair beside her, began to explain the keys. AliceAnne was a good pupil and keen to learn, and they spent the next twenty minutes or so, heads together, bent over the keyboard.

  ‘What an enchanting picture,’ came a voice from the door, and they both jerked round to see the doctor standing, framed in the doorway. ‘Is your pupil a diligent one, Miss Ross?’

  Sophie felt AliceAnne shrink against her, as she replied easily, ‘Indeed she is, sir.’

  ‘I was wondering, Miss Ross, as it’s such a beautiful day, whether you might like to accompany me on my rounds this afternoon. I know your grandfather requires you this morning, but I have to go out to Tremose this afternoon, to visit an elderly patient, and I wondered if you’d care to come with me? It would give you a chance to see something of the country hereabouts.’

  Sophie got to her feet, and taking a firm hold on AliceAnne’s hand said, ‘That’s a very kind invitation, Dr Bryan, and one I’d love to accept, if my grandfather has no objection.’ She looked down at the little girl at her side and said, ‘And perhaps AliceAnne would like to come too.’

  A fleeting look of annoyance crossed the doctor’s face, but his smile returned immediately and he said, ‘What a good idea.’ He glanced at AliceAnne and said, ‘Some fresh air will do you the world of good, young lady.’

  AliceAnne said nothing, but she slipped her hand out of Sophie’s and darted away down the passage to the safe familiarity of Mrs Paxton’s kitchen.

  ‘I shall look forward to our outing this afternoon, Dr Bryan,’ Sophie said, as she offered him her hand in farewell.

  ‘I too, Miss Ross,’ he replied with a smile, ‘or may I presume to call you Sophie? I hope we shall become great friends.’

  Sophie felt the colour rise in her cheeks. ‘If... if you wish, Dr Bryan.’

  ‘And you must call me Nicholas.’

  ‘Nicholas,’ she repeated dutifully.

  Together they went outside and as they stood by the doctor’s gig in the bright winter sun, a man trotted up, with another horse on a leading rein. As he dismounted, Paxton appeared round the house and greeted him.

  ‘Morning, Timothy. You brought the mare then.’

  ‘Aye,’ agreed Timothy. ‘Brought Millie over for Miss Sophie.’

  Sophie looked in delight at the small bay mare standing quietly in the sun. She was saddled and bridled, and as Paxton took her head to lead her away, Charles emerged from the house.

  ‘Timothy,’ he said, ‘good morning. My aunt is not coming?’

  ‘No, sir,’ replied Timothy, touching his cap as he spoke. ‘She sent her regards, sir, and says she’ll be over in a day or two, but she wanted Miss Sophie to have the mare straight away.’

  ‘Take her round to the stable,’ Charles said to Paxton, ‘and ask Ned to have her ready this afternoon at three.’ He turned to Sophie. ‘I trust that will suit you, cousin, to ride with me this a
fternoon.’

  ‘Oh yes, please, Charles,’ cried Sophie, and then with sudden remembrance of the doctor’s invitation, said, ‘Oh, that is, Dr Bryan has offered to take me and AliceAnne out with him, this afternoon. Perhaps we could postpone our ride until tomorrow?’ And as she saw Charles’s face harden, she repeated Nicholas’s remark. ‘It will do AliceAnne good to have some fresh air on such a lovely day.’

  ‘Whatever suits you, cousin,’ came the tight-lipped reply, and with that Charles turned on his heel and went back into the house. At the door he almost bumped into Louisa, who was coming out to find Sophie.

  ‘Sophie, your grandfather wants you,’ she announced abruptly, and then she too went back inside.

  Sophie gave an apologetic smile to the doctor. ‘I’m sorry... Nicholas.’ She hesitated over the use of his Christian name. ‘But I’m needed indoors.’ She extended her hand again and he gripped it in his own.

  ‘Don’t worry, Sophie,’ he said, smiling as always. ‘I’ll look forward to your company this afternoon. Yours and AliceAnne’s,’ he amended. And climbing up into his gig, he waved a hand and drove away.

  When Sophie went back into the house there was no one to be seen. All was quiet, and so she went straight upstairs to her grandfather’s bedroom and knocked on the door.

  When the old man called her in, she went to his bedside. ‘Do you want me to go on with the newspapers, Grandpapa?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ he replied. ‘I want to talk to you. Sit down.’

  Sophie resumed her seat by his bed, and with an enquiring look on her face, waited.

  ‘I’m an old man,’ he began, ‘and I may not have long to live.’

  ‘Oh, sir,’ Sophie interposed, leaning forward to take his hand. ‘You’re getting well again. The doctor just said so.’

  ‘Don’t interrupt, girl,’ snapped Thomas, pulling his hand away. ‘Just listen to what I have to say.’

  Sophie drew back and folding her hands in her lap, waited.

  ‘I’m an old man, and I may not have long to live,’ he repeated. ‘I’ve sent a message to my lawyer in Truro and he’ll be coming out to see me in a few days’ time, so that I can make a new will.’ Thomas looked at Sophie now, as if to see the effect his words were having on her, but Sophie, whilst dreading what he was going to say next, managed to keep her expression one of polite interest.

  ‘I’ve decided to make you my heir,’ he said. ‘You will inherit Trescadinnick and its estate. It will be your home from now on, and when I die it will all be yours.’

  Now Sophie could no longer maintain the polite interest. ‘But, Grandfather,’ she burst out, ‘that’s not fair!’

  ‘What do you mean, girl?’ he demanded angrily. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  ‘I mean,’ stated Sophie, ‘that you should be leaving everything to Charles. He’s the one who’s grown up here. He’s the one who has kept the estate together. He’s the one who’s worked so hard for Trescadinnick. It should all go to him.’

  Thomas’s face stiffened at her outburst. ‘Charles is not family,’ he retorted. ‘He knows what I’m planning to do, and he knows why.’

  ‘But you’re wrong,’ insisted Sophie angrily. ‘It’s wrong to cut him out like this.’

  ‘That’s enough!’ roared her grandfather. ‘I won’t be spoken to like that by a chit of a girl. How dare you, miss? How dare you! My own granddaughter!’

  ‘I wasn’t even acknowledged as your granddaughter until a few weeks ago,’ snapped Sophie, determined to remain uncowed by his anger. ‘You disowned my mother. You can disown me and I’ll go back to London and make my own way in the world. Do you think I want Trescadinnick? No, I don’t. I’m not part of it and it’s not part of me.’

  Thomas stared at her for a moment and then broke into a harsh laugh. ‘You’ll do,’ he said. ‘Whoever your father was, you’re a true Penvarrow. Now, go and tell Paxton I need him. I’m getting up.’

  It was Sophie’s turn to stare. Her anger still boiled inside her, and here she was being dismissed as if nothing had happened, as if there had been no disagreement, no argument. She stood up, and with a defiant lift of her chin said, ‘Dr Bryan is taking me and AliceAnne out this afternoon. He has to visit a patient at Tremose, and we’re going with him.’ She had planned to mention the invitation at luncheon, and gain her grandfather’s approval for the excursion, but now she simply announced that she was going, and even if he forbade her, she knew she would go anyway. Perhaps Thomas knew it too, for he simply said, ‘I’m sure the outing will do you both good.’

  Sophie sent Paxton upstairs and then returned to the piano. As always, the music cascading from the keys began to work its magic. When Charles paused in the hallway, listening to her playing, he thought of his wife, Anne, the last person to conjure music from that piano. In the six years since her death he had learned to live without her. Her face had receded to the depths of his memory, and though he had loved her, the hurt left by her death had dulled, so that now it was no more than a faint ache. He looked through the door, watching Sophie’s graceful movements as her hands flew over the keys, and he was jolted with the recognition of an all but forgotten emotion. Young as she was, more than ten years his junior, the sight of her at the piano, concentration on her lovely face, stirred him in a way he’d thought he would never be stirred again. He watched her for a moment, and then as the recollection of the old man’s demands that he marry Sophie flooded into his brain, he turned away. How could there be any future in that idea? Even if he allowed himself to entertain it, Sophie, once she heard of her inheritance, would immediately think that it was the reason for his attentions. How could she believe otherwise?

  Luncheon was a very quiet affair. The tension was almost tangible. Sophie looked at the two men at the table. Thomas was eating his lunch and treating her as if nothing had happened between them, and Charles seemed particularly morose. In an endeavour to put things right between them, Sophie said, ‘I’m sorry that I’d already made an engagement with Dr Bryan, cousin, and wasn’t able to ride with you this afternoon.’

  ‘It’s of no consequence,’ Charles replied stiffly. ‘Tomorrow will do as well.’

  Sophie smiled at him. ‘I’m so looking forward to it, but I have to admit I am a little nervous. It’s so long since I was on a horse.’

  ‘Your mother rode well,’ remarked her grandfather. ‘I’m sure you do too.’ He glanced across at Charles as he added casually, ‘You need to be able to ride well when you live in country like ours.’

  Charles made no comment, but he knew what Thomas was telling him. Sophie was to stay at Trescadinnick, and he should be doing everything to encourage her to do so. Well, he would take her out and make sure she knew how to handle Millie. At least then she would not need to drive round the countryside with Dr Bryan.

  As if reading his mind, Sophie said, ‘I’m looking forward to seeing a little more of the countryside this afternoon. It’s very kind of Dr Bryan to take us out with him, isn’t it, AliceAnne?’

  AliceAnne, sitting silent as usual at the table, turned crimson at thus being applied to. She turned an anxious face to her father and whispered, ‘I don’t want to go, Papa. Must I go?’

  Surprised at this temerity, Sophie said cheerfully, ‘Come now, AliceAnne, it’ll be a great treat, you’ll see.’

  Charles, though surprised at his daughter’s dislike for the excursion, was about to say that she need not go if she didn’t want to, when it struck him that, though only six years old, she would act as a sort of chaperone for Sophie. She would not be jaunting around the country alone with the doctor, and there could be no whispers when all three were seen to be out together.

  ‘I think you should go, AliceAnne,’ he said. ‘Aunt Sophie will be disappointed if you don’t, and so will Dr Bryan.’ He doubted this last remark, but no one else seemed to think it strange.

  ‘I don’t like him,’ AliceAnne averred.

  ‘Why ever not?’

  ‘Just because he made her drink
his special linctus when she had that cough in the spring,’ said Louisa dismissively.

  So I guessed right, thought Sophie. That’s why she’s afraid of him. Then she corrected herself, no, not afraid of him, but why she doesn’t like him much.

  ‘Well, I’m afraid doctors give us all medicine we don’t like from time to time,’ Charles was saying to AliceAnne. ‘Even poor Grandpapa.’

  AliceAnne stared in amazement at Thomas. She had a healthy fear of him too, and couldn’t imagine anyone making him take medicine he didn’t want.

  The sun was still bright when Nicholas returned, and Sophie and AliceAnne, warmly wrapped against the chill, climbed up into his gig. AliceAnne seemed to have resigned herself, and when she was settled with Sophie under the blanket the doctor had provided to keep them warm, she looked about her with interest.

  Hannah came out to see them off, and knowing AliceAnne’s disinclination to go, she said, ‘Now, Miss AliceAnne, you look after your Aunt Sophie for me, won’t you? Make sure she brings you home well before it gets dark, and Mrs Paxton’ll have muffins ready for your tea.’

  AliceAnne gave her a smile. ‘Yes, Hannah,’ she said earnestly. ‘I will.’

  ‘Good girl,’ Hannah said and watched as they drove away. Charles had not been the only one to wonder at the propriety of Sophie driving around unaccompanied with a single young gentleman. Hannah was sure that Dr Bryan was respectable and Sophie didn’t really need a chaperone, but she too was happier that AliceAnne was with them, even if she was only a child.

  13

  Once they were trotting at a brisk pace along the road, AliceAnne brightened up. She had seldom been far from Trescadinnick, only once or twice going into Truro with her grandmother to buy shoes. All her clothes were made at home, and outings were restricted to walks into the village, or the occasional excitement of a ride in front of her father on his big black horse, Hector. Sophie relaxed again as Nicholas kept up an easy flow of conversation, pointing out landmarks and points of interest as they clopped along. They passed several small hamlets, each little more than a clutch of cottages, but he made no stops at any of them.