The Cornish Lady

by Nicola Pryce

  I had watched him during my speech, seen the tightening of his jaw, the sideways glance he gave Elizabeth. He was clearly angry, his smile too late to hide his obvious displeasure. The racing of my heart was fear, not excitement; he was too powerful, too controlling, the present and paintings of his children designed to coerce me. I was angry now, ready to set myself free.

  ‘I’m…I’m sorry…it’s rather hot in here.’ I pulled my hand away and began fanning myself with my left hand. Across the room, Amelia smiled and I saw genuine pleasure in her eyes. She linked arms with Lady Clarissa and they made their way quickly towards me.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  They slipped their arms through mine. ‘My apologies, Lord Entworth, but several people are requesting to meet Miss Lilly and time is running short. Did you enjoy the concert?’

  He bowed, smiling back. ‘Very much, Lady Clarissa. As always, the music and singing were sublime. Indeed, Miss Carew, I haven’t heard better in London.’

  Lady Clarissa held his gaze. ‘Thank you. Are you to return to London soon?’

  ‘At the end of summer – I return in September.’

  ‘Splendid.’

  I curtseyed, and found myself propelled by the two of them across the room. ‘You don’t like Lord Entworth, do you?’ I whispered.

  ‘It is not for us to like him, my dear – it is you who are the object of his desire. We merely promised an introduction so you could get to know him. If what you learn is not to your liking, then you have no reason to marry him.’

  ‘He asked Father – and Father’s so honoured…so very thrilled.’

  Lady Clarissa squeezed my arm. ‘I know, my dear. But perhaps we can persuade your father towards someone of your own choice…?’ She began leading me to Luke Bohenna.

  He had his back to us, helping himself to an asparagus tart from the table. His mouth was full when he turned, his cheeks reddening when he saw the three of us smiling back at him. He held up the plate and we each took a tart, standing like naughty conspirators until the last bite was swallowed. ‘That was delicious,’ he said, wiping the crumbs from his mouth.

  I thought they would stay but Amelia and Lady Clarissa backed slowly away, leaving us alone by the table. Luke watched Amelia’s retreating figure and I knew he had joined the long rank of lost men.

  ‘She’s very clever,’ I whispered. ‘She’s as knowledgeable as any apothecary. She’s studied all Frederick’s botanical books from Oxford – there’s nothing she doesn’t know about herbs.’

  Across the room, Lord Entworth was watching me, his jaw clamping tighter by the minute. ‘She’s my best friend,’ I continued. ‘But you need to know she’s suffering from a broken heart. Three years ago her fiancé was lost at sea and she’s haunted by the thought of him lying in some filthy gaol. She’s certain he’ll come back to her one day…and she’s waiting for him. She acts happy but there’s deep sadness beneath all those smiles.’

  ‘I sensed that. I can see it in her face and hear it in her laughter.’ His voice dropped. ‘I would wait all my life for her, Angelica. I’d be content just to be her friend – and if her fiancé comes back, then her happiness would make me happy.’

  ‘No it wouldn’t. It would break your heart.’ Amelia was clearly trying not to look at us. ‘Look at you – with your smart clothes and beautiful manners – I’m so proud of you, Luke. In fact, I’m a little in awe of you.’ I put my hand on his arm, reaching up to whisper, ‘But we can’t marry now, can we? Not now you’re so obviously smitten with Amelia.’

  He smiled his shy smile. ‘You’re more beautiful than ever, Angelica. And as for awe – well, just look at you! You dazzle the room…you’ve got such grace and intelligence.’

  ‘You used to tell me I was too wild and impulsive – that I’d break every bone in my body.’

  ‘I still think that may be true.’

  ‘I used to love your bookish ways…you were always so serious. Half the time I did things just to shock you!’

  He reached for my hands. ‘I know – like insisting on teaching me foundry language. I loved you for that. I think I was even a little envious – I couldn’t bring myself to be so abandoned.’

  ‘So, the fact that I’ve waited patiently for you for all these years doesn’t count?’

  He smiled, patting my hand as he held it on his arm. ‘We’re brother and sister, Angelica – a marriage between us would never work. I know you too well – I’d tell you not to do something and you’d go straight off and do it…then I’d go to a lot of trouble to rescue you and you’d be furious and shout at me. I don’t mind how impulsive you are as a sister but as a wife…?’ He smiled, shaking his head. ‘I wouldn’t know whether to bring you a ladder or just leave you where you were. Do you still climb trees?’

  ‘Sometimes.’

  ‘And climb out of windows – and go clandestinely to the theatre and perform in plays? You were very good, by the way.’ The lines by his eyes crinkled; he had such kind eyes, full of compassion and humility. ‘If we were to marry I’d never sleep at night for worrying what you were up to.’ He turned round, gazing back across the room. ‘I don’t have any other brothers or sisters – just you and Edgar. ’

  ‘What you’re really saying is that you’ve fallen hopelessly in love with Amelia, and why shouldn’t you? But I warn you – you’ve joined ranks with several others and it won’t be easy.’

  ‘I understand that.’

  A group of naval officers were crowding round Amelia and his brow furrowed along its accustomed crease.

  ‘Evenings like this are very hard for her. That’s why she loves her garden so much. Thank you for being here, Luke – for Edgar…for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you and Mary. I hate Henry Trevelyan. Should I write to Mr Reith, do you think? He’s the best attorney in Truro?’

  A group of people were making their way towards us and Luke led me away from the table. ‘You may hate Henry Trevelyan, Angelica, but I consider him a very fine man. The difficult truth is that someone should have locked Edgar up a while back – I don’t mean in gaol, I mean at home. If he were free, his cravings would take him straight back to that opium den. Locking him up has probably saved his life.’

  ‘But not there! Not that terrible place. It’s damp and airless. He needs a soft bed and fresh air and exercise – we have to get him out of there.’

  ‘But where can he go? To a house with doors and windows that open? The opium Edgar consumes is foul – it’s dangerous. What we use is purer, but even so we boil it to make a tincture. Our doses are correct to the very last drop but the opium he gets hold of is unrefined and unpredictable.’ His voice turned firm. ‘Staying behind bars is almost a blessing. It gives Edgar a chance to clear the drug from his system. It takes time and that’s exactly what Henry’s giving him.’

  ‘Henry is not acting in Edgar’s interest. He’s acting out of self-interest.’

  ‘Maybe – but if Henry hadn’t arrested him Edgar could have fallen and broken his neck. Leave Edgar to his own devices and it’s just a matter of time before he stumbles into the river and drowns like all the others. Angelica, my dearest sister – I can’t over-emphasize the gravity of Edgar’s ill-health. Men waste away and die with this illness because no one has the ability to keep them from what they crave.’

  I stared at him, fighting my tears. ‘Henry Trevelyan wants Sir Alex to come back and heap him with praise – at the sacrifice to my brother’s life.’

  ‘I’ve watched Henry Trevelyan and I’ve talked to him. He’s not after glory and he doesn’t seek praise. He’s an honest man who cares about your brother, and he cares about—’ The group of people passed in front of us, each with a plate piled high with tarts.

  ‘If he cares about my brother he’d drop all charges.’

  ‘That’s another reason why I can’t marry you. You don’t really listen.’

  ‘Yes I do – but you must allow me my own opinion.’

  ‘Of course I allow you your own opi
nion – I always have and always will – but in this case, I believe you’re wrong. Henry Trevelyan wants to find this woman as much as we do.’ His voice was soft and loving, his eyes full of compassion. ‘I understand why you feel this way, but I believe we must work with Henry, not against him.’ He looked up. Mary was making her way across the crowded room towards us.

  ‘What a wonderful evening this has turned out to be. Lady Clarissa has invited us to visit her beautiful house and garden. She believes you may be interested in seeing Miss Carew’s physic garden, Luke.’

  Luke’s cheeks flooded with colour. He glanced towards Amelia. ‘That’s very kind of her.’

  I raised my eyebrows. ‘Mary, you need to know – Luke’s fallen hopelessly in love with Amelia—’

  ‘Angelica!’ Luke searched the room, running his finger under his stiff white cravat.

  I slipped my arm through Mary’s. ‘I’m absolutely heartbroken – he says he won’t marry me. He says I don’t listen and he’d not sleep at night because I’m wild and uncontrollable.’

  Luke’s blush doubled as he shook his head. Mary raised her eyebrows. ‘Perhaps he’s right, my love.’ She smelled of lilac water and rose soap. She was ten years older than Mother and every bit as beautiful, her soft white hair pinned gently beneath her velvet cap, her cheeks slightly tinged with rouge. She glanced at the table. ‘Look, there are just a few tarts left. Luke, be a dear and secure me a small plate.’

  We watched him make his way to the table, reaching it at the same time as Amelia. They laughed and Mary’s smile broadened. ‘I always wanted you two to marry…but, well,… it seems it’s not to be. You’re both destined for others.’

  Lord Entworth was watching us, tucking his watch back into his embroidered gold waistcoat. ‘I don’t love him,’ I whispered.

  She smiled her soft smile. ‘You do…and I didn’t mean Lord Entworth.’

  Amelia pulled up the eiderdown and I blew out the candle. She puffed up her pillow, her curls held tight beneath her lace bedcap. Neither of us were tired, the excitement of the evening still buzzing in our heads.

  ‘You didn’t tell me Elizabeth hates Lord Entworth. I thought they were friends. I thought she often invited him to their house.’

  ‘No, never. He only came to Elizabeth’s soirée because Mother said that was where he could meet you. Elizabeth saw her chance and asked him to persuade Captain Pellew to bring his fiddler – he had no idea Mr Emidy was a highly proficient violinist. The truth is Lord Entworth won’t sign Elizabeth’s petition because he owns half his brother’s plantation in Virginia. We thought you knew that.’

  Nausea churned my stomach. ‘I had no idea.’

  She was fidgeting with the lace on her sleeve. ‘The truth is…neither of us like him and Papa absolutely detests him. I’m delighted because now Mother says we can all go home. She doesn’t want us to be here when Frederick arrives – she wants Charity to have him all to herself. She wants us to leave tomorrow on the early tide…and I can’t say I’m sorry because I’m missing my garden. This sun will have done the plants a world of good.’

  ‘It’s very kind of Lady Clarissa to invite Mary and Luke to Trenwyn. Luke’s really looking forward to seeing your garden.’

  I waited and was not disappointed. There was stoicism in her voice, a sense of forced jollity. ‘He seems a very kind man. Honestly, Angelica, you’re such a silly goose. I can’t think why you even contemplated marrying Lord Entworth when Luke Bohenna loves you so much.’

  ‘We haven’t seen each other for seven years but it felt just like yesterday. He was always so protective – always standing up for me when I was in trouble. I love him and I can’t be more proud of him.’

  ‘I’m so happy for you. I think you’ll be very happy together.’

  ‘I love him…but like a brother – nothing more. And he loves me like a sister, but anyway, it’s just as well I don’t want to marry him because he’s married to his work. It’s the only thing that matters to him. He hasn’t time for marrying or love. He thinks of nothing but treatment and cures.’

  She caught her breath, her voice lifting. ‘He asked me for some willow bark and digitalis and as much vervain as I can spare – you probably know it as wild hyssop but it’s in the books as verbena officinalis. I’ve got plenty of them all.’

  I snuggled next to her, hiding my smile. ‘I don’t know it as anything, Mel.’

  She remained silent, no doubt walking between her rows of herbs, deciding which to show Luke and which to harvest for him. For my part, I was running up that rocky promontory, spiralling down the stone steps, watching Edgar from the grille of his damp cellar. Amelia’s breathing grew rhythmical but I could not sleep, going over the evening – Lord Entworth with the miniatures of his daughters, Elizabeth Fox with her pretty white cap and glass of lemonade. I could not rid my mind of my brother sprawled on the floor of a den with a half-naked woman.

  My heart thudded, my eyes opened – the woman who had passed us at the gate had smiled at us. I had been blinded by the sun but I had seen that smile before – seen that exact mole somewhere very recently. Not dressed soberly but half-naked, a wine goblet swilling in her hand. She had been tottering towards the banisters – she was the woman in the Heron Inn who had bumped into Jacob Boswell.

  I needed to breathe, stop the pounding in my heart. She might have been wearing demure clothes and a severe white bonnet but it was the same woman. She fitted the exact description: Lottie Lorrelli – half-dressed and drunk, brown hair and medium height.

  I slipped from the bed, my hands trembling. I struck a flint and the candle glowed – they would expect me to write a farewell letter to Mary and deliver it safely. I reached for some paper.

  Dearest Mary,

  Do you remember when we left the castle this morning a woman passed us carrying two baskets? She is not what she seems. I last saw her burst from a room in the Heron Inn that night of the play. On that occasion she was scantily dressed and very drunk. She has brown hair and is of medium build with a mole above her lip. It was that which caught my attention.

  I believe she is Lottie Lorrelli. She bumped into Jacob Boswell that night and she would have seen Edgar taking opium. She knew just how to trap him.

  Please tell Luke and please have your man find her.

  Written in haste,

  I remain, your dearest friend,

  Angelica

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Trenwyn House

  Friday 12th August 1796, 8:00 a.m.

  We watched the boat inch towards us with her mainsail lowered, the wind on her stern. ‘They’ve got wind and tide,’ Amelia shouted to Young William as he ran down the jetty. ‘Make sure you catch the rope first time and secure it tightly. The wind’s stronger than you think.’ She glanced at me and I caught her excitement.

  Daniel Maddox frowned. ‘Best if I catch the rope. She must have a steady landing or the glass might break.’

  He followed William down the jetty, frowning as the wind threatened the safety of the first four plant boxes that had been especially built to John Fraser’s exact requirements – the wooden troughs deep enough for a substantial amount of soil, the glass domes tall enough to give sufficient light and air.

  I waved at Mary and Luke, my concern mounting. I had not heard anything for three days and I was desperate for news. Mary was wrapped up against the cold grey sky, but Luke wore no overcoat, standing squarely on the deck to throw the rope. The glass domes lay half-covered in canvas and Daniel Maddox’s frown deepened. He ran his hands through his unruly hair. ‘Steady now – there mustn’t be any damage.’

  The ropes secured, Luke jumped from the deck and held out his hand to help Mary down the gangplank. He smiled shyly, looking up at the vast sweep of lawns to the house above. ‘What a beautiful house, Miss Carew. I’m surprised you ever want to leave. Is that your garden behind the wall?’

  ‘Yes,’ Amelia replied, smiling back at him. ‘It’s sheltered from the wind, which makes it ide
al. The walls retain the heat and give protection but I have hothouses as well.’ She had opted to wear her green gardening-gown; after all, this was a visit to her garden. She looked relaxed and informal, her bonnet blowing in the wind. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Moses peering from behind the door. ‘Moses does all the propagating. He’s the real gardener – he separates the plants and pots them on. I just dry the herbs and measure them out.’ She turned to Daniel Maddox. ‘May I introduce Daniel Maddox, Mrs Bohenna, Dr Bohenna? He’s the professional plantsman among us. He’s responsible for all the newly planted trees and Mother’s new shrubberies. His help has been invaluable, but we’re soon to lose him – more’s the pity.’

  Amelia had always been guarded in his company, but now he was going she seemed more at ease. She was clearly pleased to see Luke and Mary, talking rather quickly and smiling broadly. A flash of sorrow crossed Daniel Maddox’s sunburned face and he bowed, turning to give instructions to the boatmen.

  ‘And this is William, my nephew,’ Amelia said, holding William firmly by the shoulders. ‘I think we’ll keep him well away from that glass.’ She waved up to the terrace. ‘Mother’s watching from the house – breakfast is ready.’

  Mary pulled her cloak tightly round her. ‘I’m sorry our visit is so early, Miss Carew – you really shouldn’t have come down to wait for us. It’s very kind of you, of course, but I wouldn’t have you catch a chill on our behalf.’

  Taking Young William’s hand, Amelia led them across the shingle towards the steps. The wind whipped her cloak, her curls escaping their hold and framing her face. Colour tinged her cheeks, real joy in her smile. ‘The tide’s the tide, Mrs Bohenna. It’s so strong at this point it’s virtually impossible to sail against it. And I always get up early as the garden’s so beautiful in the morning. Sometimes it’s shrouded in mist – sometimes it’s wet with dew. I like watching the sun rise and the birds feeding on the shore. Do you get up early, Dr Bohenna?’