The Cornish Lady

by Nicola Pryce

  Not this bottle, not tonight, but that first night when I had surprised him. He had bent down in just the same way – but the cork was already pulled from the bottle and no glass lay ready. An uncorked bottle and no glass – he told me he was drinking alone but he had not been drinking.

  He was watching me, the lines round his mouth tightening. Gone was any pretence of being shy or grateful: no smile, no lies about unrequited love, no pulling at my heart strings. We were past that. Just the calculating stare of a vicious man and I stifled my scream as my terror grew. He knew George Godwin. The thought was terrifying. He knew George Godwin. They were both from Devon – only this afternoon I had seen them nod to each other in polite greeting. I fought my dizziness, trying to smile. ‘A glass of wine would be lovely.’

  ‘Then wine it shall be. I hate to drink alone. We can toast my departure and the wonderful opportunity that awaits me.’

  I could see it so clearly. Mr Maddox had been bending over his potting table at the far end with a bottle of wine open beside him. The bottle was the exact same shape; he had opened it but was not going to drink it. I could hardly stand for the fear sweeping through me. He had been filling the bottle with laudanum.

  He was the other man – the ruthless killer who had stabbed the boatmen and Private Evans to death. He had the eyes of a killer, I could see that now. They were devouring me, cold, calculating eyes making my blood turn to ice. He had been testing how much laudanum to put in the bottles – trying out the doses. Those days when Moses was asleep all day – had he been made to drink the wine to see what dose was needed?

  He was coming closer, his eyes glinting in the moonlight – the man who had just locked me in his hothouse was the very man who had opened the prison gates and freed the woman. He was the one who had given the boy the baskets and started the fire. He handed me the wine and I gripped the stem.

  ‘You’re shaking, Miss Lilly.’

  Was that what killers looked like when they were about to kill again? He had seen me hiding in the shadows. The wine would be drugged, I would be found tomorrow washed up along the river.

  I could not hide my trembling. The wine rippled in the glass and I bent to sip it, turning round, pretending to swallow. This would be the most difficult role I had ever played. ‘This wine is lovely, thank you.’

  His eyes followed me as I walked between his newly commissioned plant troughs. All except one had been sealed with planks and nailed tightly shut. There was straw on the ground, spilling out of a sack. It was him I had watched tend the beehives, not Moses. The bee-keeper’s hat and cloak were to keep his identity hidden, but why tend the beehives?

  ‘Does anyone know you’re here?’

  ‘Amelia knows. She was too tired to come…’ He was planning what to do with me. I could scream all I liked but no one would hear. He would overpower me with those huge gardener’s hands. He would stifle me, drag me to the water’s edge and force my head into the shallow water. The shingle would leave no prints and the tide would wash away all trace of my struggle.

  He saw me glance at the heavy basket and his voice sliced the air. ‘What are you really doing here, Miss Lilly? You’re not a fool – you know the cereus only blooms in the full moon. Amelia doesn’t know you’re here, does she? No one knows you’re here except me…not even Moses knows you’re here.’

  He must be hiding something in the beehives; hiding it there and transferring it to his boxes. Something had been niggling me; something I had forgotten but I remembered it now. Moses had drawn two bee-keeper’s hats. Amelia had thought it meant he needed another one, but he must have been trying to warn her that another man was attending his bees.

  I turned my back, tipping my wine quickly into a large flowerpot, pretending to drink, but he caught the reflection in the window and his heavy boots stomped behind me. He grabbed my elbow, clamping it tight.

  ‘Not drinking your wine? Why’s that?’ He forced me round but I could not look at him. He had killer’s hands, a killer’s clamped mouth. ‘What are you really doing here, Miss Lilly?’ His laugh was cruel, his grip bruising my arm. ‘You look scared…are you scared, Miss Lilly? Is there a reason why you can’t look me in the eye?’

  Chapter Forty-three

  Through the glass, I saw a shadow cross the birdbath, a momentary disturbance in the otherwise silent garden, and sudden hope flashed through me. I shook my elbow free, edging my way round the plants, the profusion of orchids blocking my view. There was a gap between two of the pots and I leaned over the bench, peering through the stems to search the moonlit garden. Daniel Maddox came straight to my side, standing squarely behind me.

  I knew to sound angry. ‘Mr Maddox,’ I said, matching his tight mouth and clipped tone, ‘I believe you know very well why I’m here. If it’s money you’re after then you can have it – I’ll give you more than adequate funds for your silence.’

  I could see his surprise in the sudden stiffening of his shoulders and my courage strengthened. ‘You know very well I’ve come to meet my lover, so we might as well talk freely – he’s the man I love, not the man I’m intended to marry. He’s out there waiting for me but if this gets out the scandal will ruin me. I can pay well. I’m a very wealthy woman. I don’t have sufficient money with me in Trenwyn but I can get the money into your account as soon as I return to Truro – all I ask for is your absolute silence.’ He made no movement, his jacket almost touching my cloak. ‘No one knows I’m here because no one must ever know. Mr Maddox…name your price but promise me your silence.’

  ‘He’s out there?’

  ‘You know he is.’ My hands were trembling; if I gripped the stem of the glass any tighter, it would shatter.

  He leaned forward, peering through the glass. ‘I can see him – he’s behind the wisteria. How long’s he been there?’

  ‘He’s just arrived. I’ve been waiting for him in the shrubbery – Mr Maddox, does twenty pounds seem reasonable?’ I sounded angry but my knees felt weak. I could hardly walk yet he must not see my terror. I brushed past him, making for the door and he followed close behind, reaching for the key, holding it in his hand.

  ‘Thirty pounds, Miss Lilly, and I hope we part amicably. Your good opinion is important to me…maybe an offer of work should I ever require it?’

  I stared back into those black eyes. ‘Lord Entworth will give you full employment the moment you return. I can assure you of a very generous salary and anything else you might require.’

  He stared across the garden. A dark figure was standing in the moonlight, his hat pulled low over his face. No glasses glinted back at me but my heart leapt, thumping wildly in my chest. Daniel Maddox was still not letting me out. ‘And thirty pounds will enter my account?’

  ‘You’ll get everything – and more.’ He put the key in the door, turning it swiftly. ‘Now, lock it behind me,’ I said, pulling my hood over my hair.

  I knew he would not. He would follow me, watch me: we both knew I had seen too much. Henry must stay in the shadows; I would run to the gate and down to the river, that way he would not be recognized. I could hear Henry’s footsteps crunching the shingle behind me and I ran for my life along the water’s edge, taking shelter in the overhanging trees. I swung round.

  ‘Henry, we’re in great danger – don’t let him see your face. I told him you were my lover – that’s the only reason he let me go.’

  He drew me to him. ‘You’re trembling. Let me hold you.’

  I leaned against his chest, taking refuge in his strong arms. ‘He’s the killer…he and George Godwin. The two of them…that night in the inn…I heard George shout out for a poultice and he shouted the same today…he knew Edgar… he framed him…I saw Daniel Maddox kicking Moses…he’s been hiding stuff in the beehives…he’s evil. He had the same wine bottle…I think they drugged Moses so they knew how much to use…’

  He held me tightly, my hood had slipped and his lips brushed my hair. ‘He’s watching us now. I can see him in the bushes.’

&nb
sp; Tears of relief splashed down my cheeks, my hands shaking against his jacket. ‘I’m so glad you came – I didn’t know if you would. He was going kill me…he was honestly going to kill me.’

  His arms tightened. ‘No one will harm you. You’re safe, now…I’ve brought my pistol and I’ll use it if he comes anywhere near us. But you’ll have to say that all again. Take a deep breath, talk only when you’re ready.’

  ‘He mustn’t know it’s you, Henry.’

  ‘He won’t. My hat’s too large and I’ve taken off my glasses.’ His lips brushed my hair again. ‘Daniel Maddox and George Godwin…but why? Just for money? What are we missing?’

  ‘He’s hiding something in the beehives. He’s transferring it to the plant boxes and sealing it with nails. It’s not earth. There was no earth in the boxes – just straw.’

  His arms were as strong as I knew they would be, his chest as hard, his lips resting against my hair. ‘I’m afraid we need to make this look real,’ he whispered.

  My heart jolted. ‘Real?’

  ‘A lover would hold you more tightly…I’m sorry…may I?’ He drew me closer. ‘What would they be hiding? Why free the French prisoners?’ He was freshly shaven, his jacket and hat dark in the moonlight. He smelled of soap, of recent exertion, and I clung to him, my cheek resting against his chest. I could hear his heart thumping. ‘This is very awkward, Miss Lilly, but I’m going to have to pretend to kiss you… he’ll know you’re lying if we don’t look like real lovers.’

  He bent slowly forward, his finger gently lifting my chin. His lips were a fraction from my own, hovering, almost brushing mine but not quite. Not quite. The moon was dancing over the river, the owls hooting from the trees above, and I closed my eyes, wanting, desperately wanting, to feel his lips press against mine. He pulled away. ‘I’m so sorry…’

  ‘No, it had to be done.’

  ‘He’s still watching. I suggest we sit against that trunk and you can tell me everything.’ He undid his jacket, his white shirt catching the moonlight, and we knelt down, the waves lapping the water beside us. A fallen trunk lay along the water’s edge and he laid out his jacket, his face almost unfamiliar without his glasses. He had fine bones, a strong chin, but it was the kindness in his eyes that had always drawn me. They held compassion – strength and kindness, no sign of arrogance. Yet that night in the shrubbery they had sparkled with mischief.

  The shingle smelled of fresh seaweed and damp stones, the scent of manure drifting from the meadow alongside us. ‘I nearly didn’t get your message. George Godwin gave it straight to Edgar. I was leaving but Edgar called me back. He said he couldn’t make sense of it and thought I should see it. I read it and grabbed the pistol – I knew straight away you wanted me to come.’

  ‘Maddox is evil, Henry. I saw real hatred in his eyes. He’s a callous killer. Pretending to be so deferential and in love with Amelia but he hates us all. He’s been terrorizing Moses.’

  His arms tightened, his lips brushing my hair. ‘You’re safe now, Angelica. I won’t let him anywhere near you.’ I wanted him to kiss me. Wanted it so badly, willing him to lean that little bit closer. Just that little bit nearer. ‘Was Moses badly harmed? Should we go to him?’

  ‘He’s locked in his hut. I saw him lying on the floor.’

  ‘I think we’ll have to leave him. The man’s a killer. He knows when to kill and when to harm. He won’t risk Moses being found dead just before he leaves. A man like that knows just how much pain he can inflict without arousing suspicion. Moses will stagger from that hut in the morning like every other morning, but I promise you, Daniel Maddox will swing for what he’s done.’

  His grip tightened and I knew I belonged in those strong arms. I loved Henry Trevelyan so completely. I loved his strength, I loved his gentleness. I loved the way his eyes creased into laughter lines, the way the side of his mouth curled into a smile. I loved his short hair, his straight nose, his strange mixture of humour and seriousness. I loved his poems, the way he talked of trade policies. I loved his manners…I loved everything about him.

  ‘I’ve been trying to understand why Martha Selwyn locked the tunnel behind the prisoners,’ he whispered. ‘I couldn’t understand why she didn’t go with them but it makes sense now. She went back to George Godwin.’

  He leaned against the trunk, pulling me gently next to him, his arm keeping its tight hold. ‘A bit closer perhaps, Miss Lilly…real lovers would lie entwined but we might just get away with sitting side by side…I think that should do it…perhaps I ought to play with your hair?’

  ‘Yes…if it’s…necessary.’

  He curled a ringlet round his finger, bringing it to his lips, and a terrible ache coursed through me, such acute longing. He was so close, my body on fire. I wanted him to reach forward, his lips to brush mine. He stopped, the curl left dangling against my cheek. His voice was urgent, still a whisper. ‘How can we have been so blind? It’s obvious – she went back to help George…to steal…what would it be – gold, money, jewellery? The caskets are weighed – only the weight is checked.’

  ‘You mean the escape wasn’t real – or at least it was real, but planned as some sort of cover?’

  ‘Yes – an elaborate way to hide all trace…as prize agent, George is responsible for the safe handling of everything his clients bring him – ships, cargoes, money, gold. His job is to record everything and ensure the prizes are transported safely up to London. Ships remain where they dock, cargoes are sold locally, but any gold or coins or jewels are weighed by the casket. His job is to record them, but the valuation and costing is done in London.’

  ‘But he’s opened them?’

  ‘He must have…the caskets are sealed with chains and the keys travel separately. The weights are recorded when they’re received into port and when they’re transported to London. No one is allowed to open the caskets.’

  ‘But he has.’

  ‘Yes…somehow, he’s opened one – or some. But the gold would be heavy. He needed to drag it away from the castle so he needed the guards to be asleep and he needed a diversion. The escape was the perfect cover. All it took was a sail upriver and Daniel Maddox hid what they stole where no one would think to look. They probably replaced the weight with shingle.’ He looked across the glistening beach. ‘I think we should lie back again. I wonder if you should play with the buttons on my shirt?’

  He nestled me against him, his arm tightening round my shoulders. ‘Obviously just pretend to – he won’t see details, just the outline.’ The top button of his shirt was undone and I rolled the second button in my fingers. I could feel the strength of his muscles, his chest rising and falling beneath my hand. He closed his eyes, leaning back against the rough trunk. I could feel fine hair beneath my hand. I wanted to trail my fingers over his chest, trace the contours of neck, his cheek, the outline of his lips.

  ‘The master and mate of Snow Goose must have recognized Daniel Maddox,’ I whispered. ‘He was often on the quayside. He must have taken them the wine but they recognized him from his boxes – so he went back to kill them. There’s too much at stake, Henry. Daniel Maddox has killed three men – he’ll kill us too.’

  He opened his eyes, his voice firm. ‘He’ll not risk coming near us – I’ll shoot him if he approaches – that will wake everyone.’ He reached into his bag, drawing out the pistol I had seen glinting on the road back to Truro and laid it beside him on the stones. ‘He’ll be expecting me to be armed. A man does not row upriver to trespass in the garden of his lover without some means of defence.’

  Henry had always seen me as myself, never any pretence, but as I watched him place the pistol by his side and settle back, my heart was breaking. Father had been the ruin of his family. He must hate me – no wonder he still called me Miss Lilly.

  ‘Does anyone else know about George?’ he asked.

  I stopped playing with his button. ‘No one else knows, only us. Daniel Maddox leaves the day after tomorrow. He’s told everyone he’s got employment as a
plant collector but those letters must all be lies. He’ll just sail away with the gold – George Godwin will probably go with him.’

  The pungent aroma of tobacco smoke drifted across the bay. ‘I’ll go straight to Admiral Penrose and ask him to take command. He’s kicking his heels round Falmouth and he’ll be delighted to step in.’ His arm tightened, his lips brushing my hair. ‘Daniel Maddox is still watching, Miss Lilly. I might have to pretend to kiss you again.’ He curled the abandoned ringlet in his finger. ‘Perhaps I should undo this ribbon?’

  I could barely speak, the pain so wretched, I wanted to cry. ‘You must hate me, Mr Trevelyan,’ I whispered. ‘My father was the cause of your family’s ruin. You must have watched me through the window with such loathing.’

  Chapter Forty-four

  A sudden breeze rippled the water, blowing against our cheeks. The leaves shimmered on the trees, the shingle glistening as the tide retreated. ‘The tide’s turned,’ he said, pulling his arm from round me and sitting upright. ‘That wind’s from the south – blowing straight upriver. It’ll make my row back slightly bouncy. I’ll watch you safely across the lawn – then I’ll row straight to Admiral Penrose.’ He glanced across the curve of the bay. ‘Daniel Maddox won’t follow me – not if there’s gold in his plant troughs.’

  He sounded distant, different, nothing like the man who had teased me about ladders and windows, who had argued with me about trade policy and shipping.

  ‘Do you hate us very much?’ I repeated.

  His voice softened, his whisper catching his throat. ‘I don’t hate you, Miss Lilly…far, far from it.’

  ‘I know nothing about you…yet you know so much about me. You’ve always kept so silent…we’ve talked, but you’ve never given me a sense of how you feel. You keep everything so close – you give nothing away. It’s like you’re roped up, bound by silence – as if you stifle what you really want to say and I understand why now.’