Philip had been bored all night, disgusted at some of the manners of a few of the so-called genteel and the pawing he’d been subjected to from some of their lusty women, and he felt a fool in his ridiculous costume of some sort of messenger. He thought he, not Luke, should have been Zeus, father of the gods and men. He was there only because he wanted to see how the land lay concerning Cordelia Drannock, and he felt the evening had been worth enduring as he witnessed her gentle spurning of the young blades interested in making a ‘good marriage’ with a Pengarron niece who would doubtless have a substantial dowry.
Making a beeline for her as she leaned against a table looking dreamily over an empty glass of wine, he offered to replenish it from a bottle he’d found languishing next to a sleeping, drunken Sebastian Beswetherick.
Cordelia’s small bird-like face suffused red all over when she realised who had interrupted her daydream. ‘No… no, thank you,’ she blustered.
Philip looked at Sebastian in disgust. ‘I see he’s had enough. He made a pig of himself all night, wolfing down food, snaffling drink like it was the last to be found in the world, and slobbering over all you ladies.’
‘Yes, it’s a good thing he is asleep,’ Cordelia said, viewing the fat young gentleman, whose eyes had slid down the dress of every lady there that night, with distaste.
‘I notice you don’t pay much attention to the men of his class,’ Philip said, staring into her face.
‘Do I not?’ Cordelia edged away and looked across the room at the group of gentlemen presided over by Luke who had suddenly laughed loudly at one of his jokes. ‘Luke’s enjoying himself,’ she said, nervously on account of Philip. She had seen ladies of every age eyeing the muscles of this brawny blond man and dancing attendance on him. She had heard them speculating and giggling about his prowess in other, more intimate matters. It had left her feeling uncomfortable about him. She was sure he was interested in her in a way different to that shown when they’d played together as children, when she’d been introduced into the Pengarron dynasty. A part of her desired that interest, a bigger part of her was afraid of it. And when he was close beside her like this, talking straight at her, her legs turned to jelly and her head felt dizzy.
‘Don’t move away from me,’ Philip said in a hurt voice.
‘I’m… I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware…’
‘You do it every time I get near you. Don’t you like me any more?’
‘Yes, yes, of course I do. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to seem unfriendly.’
You’re as soft as putty, warm and pliable, quite easy for a man to manipulate, Philip thought, as he smiled down on her compact figure with his ready charm. He wanted to manipulate Cordelia Drannock into a marriage bond with him. The wealth of her dowry would bring forward the many plans he had for making Trecath-en Farm the most prosperous small concern in the neighbourhood. It was the biggest and most arable piece of land next to Ker-an-Mor Farm on the Pengarron estate. It had great potential and he was eager to exploit it and make a name for himself other than as a future wrestling champion. He had plans, such as buying and farming more land, and snaring Cordelia Drannock was the first part in them.
‘Have you heard from your brothers and sisters of late, Cordelia?’ he asked conversationally, knowing she was more relaxed when talking about her family.
‘Yes, I have,’ she answered more confidently, but still wanting to back away. ‘Naomi and Hannah have both delivered a new child this year. Jack and Charles are in London together and Bartholomew has not written for ages, but then he travels about a lot, he could be anywhere.’
‘You must miss them,’ Philip said kindly.
‘I haven’t seen any of my brothers for over two years now and my sisters of course are busy about their own families.’
‘But you are happy living with this part of your family, are you not?’
‘Oh, yes. Aunt Kerensa and Uncle Oliver have taken tits place of my parents to me.’
Philip was just getting satisfied that their conversation was going with ease when Luke saw them and frowned angrily. He called to Cordelia and she excused herself and scuttled away at once.
Philip held Luke’s haughty cold stare with one of equal ill feeling but he knew his cause was lost for the night. Luke Pengarron must have suspicions about his cousin’s honour where he was concerned.
Philip lifted his glass to Luke in defiance. ‘You won’t always be around to chaperon your little cousin, Pengarron,’ he muttered icily under his breath. Not wanting to stay and risk a pawing from one of the other young ladies and so ruin things further, he decided to leave.
‘Has your brother gone?’ Kane, who had left the room for a few minutes, said casually to Jessica as he put a small wooden box down on the table behind her.
‘Yes, it’s not really his form of entertainment,’ she answered, as if she wasn’t the least bit interested in his observations.
‘Pity, I had something to show him,’ Kane said, tapping the box.
Jessica knew he wanted her to ask him what was in the box but she would not oblige him. He gave her costume a look of healthy appreciation for a few moments and she wanted him to pay her the same compliment as his brother had, so she could show him again that she wasn’t in the least bit interested in anything he had to say… or so she told herself. But his expressive brown eyes looked at her as if she was an amusing child and then he went off to join those huddled around Luke. Jessica was left feeling rather flat.
Oliver popped his head round the door. ‘Everything all right in here?’ he asked gaily.
‘Oh, Father! Haven’t you retired yet?’ Luke said crossly.
‘Your mother and I are just going up,’ Oliver replied, as female heads turned and studied him. ‘I’ve just come in to let you know that you have another guest, Olivia.’
‘As long as it’s not Captain Solomon returning, I don’t care who it is,’ Olivia whispered to Jessica as she came and stood beside her.
But the newcomer turned out to be every bit as unwelcome, as far as Olivia was concerned. It was the Reverend Timothy Rawlyn Lanyon.
‘So sorry to be late,’ Timothy said with gusto as he bounded into the room. ‘But I had a “last rites” to attend to. Must keep a sense of priority.’
Forcing a wine glass out of Olivia’s hand and slapping something small, soft and round in its place, he said heartily, ‘Catherine made it for you, hope you like it.’ And without even wishing her one ‘Happy Birthday’, he made straight for the group of men.
‘You were a bit sharp with your father then,’ Timothy chided Luke with his eyes lowered under a frown. ‘Honour thy father and mother, don’t you forget.’
‘Well, I thought he was going to stay,’ Luke replied, and actually had the grace to blush.
‘And what if he was?’
‘Father is fifty-six years old and hasn’t learned to age like a respectable old gentleman,’ Luke grumbled. ‘He attracts the attentions of every female everywhere he goes and us younger men never get a chance. He’s taller than any of us, broader-shouldered…’ Luke threw an irritable hand at the cluster of females. ‘Did you see the way their heads all turned just then when he looked into the room?’
‘I did,’ and the Reverend Lanyon gave out a hearty laugh which Olivia found most offensive.
‘What did he give you?’ Cordelia asked, shaking Olivia’s arm and breaking off the harsh stare she was giving the parson.
‘Miss Catherine made it,’ Olivia said, not wanting the lady’s ungracious brother to take any of the credit. She opened a lace-edged square-shaped piece of silk and from a pocket in its centre pulled out three smaller padded pieces of silk. ‘They’re perfumed clothes sachets,’ she said, raising them to her nose. ‘They smell lovely, an unusual fragrance. I will have to ask Miss Catherine what it is when I thank her.’
‘Why are you all in a huddle?’ Timothy asked the men.
‘Kane is going to show us what he calls his “never-been-known-to-fail” anti-marriage ki
t,’ Luke said, sniggering loud enough to attract everyone’s attention, except for Sebastian who had slid to the floor and been left there.
‘And what is that?’ Timothy asked eagerly, rubbing his hands together.
‘What a position for a parson to take on the matter,’ Olivia said haughtily, as if she was an outraged elderly maiden aunt. The young ladies turned to see what entertainment her brother was offering at the end of the party.
Kane moved into the middle of the room and glanced around at his audience. He had their full attention. Fed up with looking like a part of Mount Olympus, he had changed out of his costume and shunned a coat and neckcloth in the heat. He was straight-backed, attractive and confident in brown breeches and open-necked white shirt. Olivia and Cordelia were delighted to have Kane home for this family occasion and watched him closely, and Jessica noticed the other females there were as fascinated with him as they had been with Sir Oliver a little earlier.
Kane had tried to guess what each person’s reaction would be to what he was about to say and do and had bets laid with those gentlemen who shared his secret. He looked last at Jessica who glared back and he was sure her reaction would not disappoint him.
‘I was taught this trick by a fellow officer out in the Caribbean. He had managed to escape all efforts to snare him in wedlock at the age of fifty-two. He was a brave, handsome man and hotly pursued for his fortune and physical attributes wherever we were stationed. He took no exception to sharing them out but was determined no one would ever tie him down in matrimony. He swore he had the perfect answer to frighten off the most determined husband-hunter. According to him, women are terrified by either the one thing I have secured about me on my person,’ there was raucous laughter from the men and tittering from the ladies at this, ‘or the thing I have ensconced in that box on the table.’ All heads turned to look at the box he pointed at.
‘Is it another present for Olivia?’ asked a young lady, dressed as a siren, with a weak chin under a long, sharp nose. ‘Is it a surprise for her?’
‘No, Miss Chynoweth. I promise you it is not for Olivia and I doubt if she’ll appreciate it,’ Kane replied mysteriously.
Another lady, who was closely scrutinising his body, suddenly shrieked and collapsed in fits of giggles. ‘There’s something in his pocket! I saw it move, I tell you I saw it!’
‘I think it is time for exhibit number one, brother,’ called out Luke. ‘Before Charlotte kills herself laughing.’
‘Yes, you have us all avidly interested,’ bawled Timothy.
‘Ready, Livvy?’ Kane asked Olivia’s permission as it was her party.
‘Oh, get on with it, Kane,’ she retorted rather shortly, vexed that the Reverend Lanyon had spoken.
Kane put his hand into his tight breeches and pulled out a wriggling little brown mouse. ‘Exhibit number one. A micromys minutus or, if you prefer, a harvest mouse, the smallest of our rodents—’
He was stopped by the screaming of two of the young ladies, one of whom went rushing to the doors. Two more ladies cringed, Cordelia backed away and Luke came forward and put his arm round her protectively. At least three of the gentlemen looked uneasy. Those in on the secret made silly farmyard laughing noises.
Kane seemed satisfied by the response. ‘Sorry about that, ladies,’ he said, but not at all apologetically. ‘But I see some of you were not afraid.’
‘Of course some of us aren’t!’ Jessica snapped scornfully and advanced on Kane. ‘And of course some folk are. Just what do you hope to prove by this ridiculous show of yours? I for one don’t find it the slightest bit amusing.’
Kane smiled into her flashing blue eyes and held the mouse towards her. ‘Would you like to hold him?’
Jessica put out her hands and took the mouse and cradled it close to her body.
Olivia shot a look at the Reverend to see if he was enjoying the floor show and was frustrated to see he was. ‘Why don’t you go home?’ she uttered under her breath.
Kane moved to the table and took Jessica with him by placing a hand on her shoulder and ushering her along.
‘My soldier friend’s theory was that if a woman is not afraid of mice, then she is afraid of the creature I have in the box – or vice versa, of course.’
The young ladies and gentlemen all crowded round the table. Some leaned on it for a closer look while others stood back a little, warily. Kane suddenly took a tight grip on Jessica’s shoulder, pulled her in close to him and held her fast.
She was about to protest strongly when he took the lid off the box. Everyone watched, hushed and mesmerised. Kane put his hand in slowly. Jessica tightened her lips and held her breath. Kane brought his hand back out, turned it over slowly, palm upwards, and opened his fingers.
Jessica froze in terror at what she saw. She didn’t realise that most of those gathered round the table had recoiled and moved far away. She heard Kane speaking as though she was in a dream.
‘So, if you’re not afraid of a mouse, then perhaps you’re afraid of a spider.’
‘Take… take it away, Kane, please,’ Olivia implored. ‘It’s really huge, it’s… it’s horrible.’
He still had Jessica held firmly. She tried to move but couldn’t and felt trapped. And then she panicked. She dropped the mouse and it scuttled away causing confusion in the room. People jumped up on chairs, screaming, with the ladies holding up their gowns. But no one screamed as loud or as high-pitched as Jessica.
Kane let her go and she ran to the door with her hands held to her head. Then she stopped abruptly. She turned back, her face on fire, her body shaking and her long curls trembling. She glared at Kane as if she wanted him dead and personally hoped to perpetrate the act. He hurriedly put the spider back in the box. Jessica took heavy steps back to Kane who squared up for the confrontation. What he didn’t expect was to see that she was crying.
‘You are mad,’ she got out between bared teeth. ‘You are cruel, beastly, insensitive and… and… and…’ She turned and ran out of the room.
Oliver and Kerensa, in night clothes, were coming down the stairs and saw Jessica racing off in the direction of the kitchen. Kerensa rushed after her while Oliver strode into the parlour.
He found people standing on or getting down off his furniture. Sebastian was sprawled out on the floor, Olivia and Cordelia were being comforted by Luke, the Reverend Lanyon was putting a lid on a box, and a shamefaced Kane stood deserted in the middle of the room.
Oliver could see it was obviously Kane who was to blame for the sudden scream that had reverberated throughout the Manor house. He was angry to have the peace of his home disturbed, his daughter’s party upset and one of her guests distressed. Some of the servants had come running and Kelynen pushed her head in under Oliver’s arm.
‘What’s going on, Papa?’ she asked, squinting in the candlelight.
‘That’s what I’m about to find out, Shelley,’ he said gruffly. ‘You go back to bed.’
‘Oooh,’ muttered Kelynen, disappointed.
Oliver didn’t look behind him but knew Cherry would be there. ‘Cherry, take Miss Shelley back to bed, please, and make sure she stays there.’
Kelynen’s reluctance to be despatched was matched by her former nursemaid’s reluctance to despatch her; Cherry, too, was dying to know what had happened.
From the corner of his eye, Oliver saw Ruth and Esther King fidgeting at the doorway’s edge, and he could hear Beatrice shuffling up to them. ‘The rest of you can retire too,’ he ordered. ‘I will deal with this.’
When all had gone quiet, his voice reached out towards his elder son. ‘I take it I am to look to you for an explanation as to why there was all that screaming. Why Jessica has been rendered distraught and your sister’s birthday celebrations have been brought to an unseemly halt.’
Kane hung his head as he told his father what had happened. It sounded stupid and childish told in the cold light of his father’s disapproval.
‘I’ll talk to you in my study, now,’ Olive
r said coolly. He used the same tone on Timothy. ‘I am surprised to find you a party to this childish prank, Reverend Lanyon.’
‘Yes, well, I’ll take this creature away to a secure place,’ Timothy said, as shamefaced as Kane. He lifted the box up carefully. ‘Please accept my apologies, Miss Olivia, Sir Oliver,’ he added sincerely, and quickly left the room holding the box at arm’s length.
Kane apologised to Olivia and the others and, scooping up the mouse which he’d spied by the table leg, he followed the humbled parson.
‘Luke, get the party under way again,’ Oliver said to the son who for once was not the perpetrator of the trouble. ‘And get that,’ he pointed angrily at Sebastian who was lying on his back and snoring loudly, ‘out of the room.’ To the other guests he smiled and said, ‘Please enjoy the rest of the evening.’
‘I had better go to Jessica, she was in a dreadful state,’ Olivia said, and Cordelia made ready to go with her.
‘You stay here, your mother is with her. I’m sure Jessica will be back in a little while.’ Then Oliver left to give Kane a good dressing-down.
Ten minutes later Kane left his father’s study in a dismal mood and made for the kitchens. He was pleased to hear conversation and laughter coming from the parlour; at least the party was back on form again. But what would Jessica say to him?
Jessica, clutching a glass of water, was sitting with Kerensa at the kitchen table.
‘And what, may I ask, do you want?’ Kerensa said sternly, but she took in the shadow of pain that had come back to lie under his large brown eyes, their startled expression heightened by his concern.
‘I’ve come to apologise to Jessica… Could you leave us alone for a few minutes please, Mama?’
Oliver was outside the door waiting for Kerensa. ‘How is she?’
Kerensa shook her head slowly, swirling its glossy red glory over her shoulders. ‘She was frightened half to death. I can’t understand how Kane could do such a thing. I thought he had more sense than to do something that amounted to little more than a very cruel trick. Most folk are scared of something and hundreds are scared of spiders. How could it have not crossed his mind that at least one person tonight would be terrified in the extreme of what must have been an enormous spider? I told him I won’t have it in the house, tomorrow he must get rid of it.’
Pengarron's Children Page 10
