Morwennan House Read online

  ‘Indeed it is, ma’am. Mr Francis is having his already.’ Mrs Durbin returned to the spindle-legged table and collected the tray she had deposited there.

  I followed Selena into the dining room.

  * * *

  Francis looked, I thought, as though he had slept as little as I. His eyes were almost hidden beneath swollen lids and the folds of his face hung heavier than ever.

  ‘Selena. Charity.’ Even his voice sounded tired.

  ‘Good morning, Francis,’ Selena said briskly. ‘No, don’t trouble to get up.’ She turned to me. ‘We’ll serve ourselves, Charity. Mrs Durbin is clearly busy.’

  She swept over to the sideboard and lifted the lid of a silver chafing dish. The aroma of griddled kidneys filled the room and I realised I was hungrier than I would have believed possible. I helped myself to some and then felt shamed when Selena took a much smaller portion. Everything about her, everything she did, made me uncomfortable, it seemed.

  ‘I have business to attend to today,’ Francis said when we were seated at the table and Selena had poured hot coffee for herself and me. ‘I shall be leaving as soon as I have finished breakfast.’

  I found myself wondering what his business might be. Quarrying, perhaps, or tin mining. Whatever, it was clearly successful, for Morwennan House and all the artefacts in it indicated that, for a younger son, he was well off.

  ‘Charlotte should be home by noon,’ he said to me. ‘Until then your time is your own, Charity.’

  I nodded, thinking how strange it was that he was making no mention of the turmoil my appearance had caused him. But there was no mistaking the frostiness between him and Selena, a frostiness that even the morning sun, streaming in at the windows, could do nothing to dispel.

  ‘I’ll prepare some lessons for her,’ I said, anxious to create a good impression.

  Francis gave me a look that was almost surprised, as if he had forgotten my purpose for being here was to take charge of Charlotte’s education.

  ‘Oh there’s plenty of time for that,’ he said dismissively. ‘Spend the morning relaxing. You’ll have little enough time for that when Charlotte arrives. She is very like her mother in many respects.’

  ‘Trying,’ Selena interposed drily.

  I froze, a forkful of kidney halfway to my mouth, and saw the warning look Francis shot at her. Immediately her lips turned down in that strange amused smile. She was still scoring points and enjoying every moment of it. But at least neither of them knew that I knew it.

  Francis drained his cup, wiped his mouth, and stood up.

  ‘I’ll leave you then. Selena, you will introduce Charity to Charlotte, no doubt?’

  ‘No doubt. Though if you remember, Francis, I have a household to run.’

  ‘And very well you do it too,’ Francis said. ‘I’m sure, however, you will find the time to see Charlotte into Charity’s care, since you are the one responsible for the arrangement.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure I shall,’ Selena agreed evenly.

  * * *

  Selena and I finished breakfast with the same awkward atmosphere hanging between us.

  ‘I expect as a foundling you must often wonder about your natural family,’ Selena said, watching me speculatively, and I wondered if she was about to broach the subject of my likeness to Julia.

  ‘Of course,’ I replied, trying to keep my tone even.

  ‘Have you never tried to learn the circumstances in which the Palfreys found you?’ she asked.

  I was determined to be non-committal until she made the first move.

  ‘They would never tell me anything,’ I said. ‘I have always imagined my mother must have been some poor girl forced by circumstances to abandon me.’

  ‘You don’t blame her then?’ Selena asked.

  ‘Shame and poverty are hard masters,’ I replied. ‘If her family turned her out and she had no means of supporting a child, what else could she do?’

  ‘But supposing she was not poor,’ Selena said. I could feel her eyes watching me closely over the rim of her cup. ‘What then? Would you still feel so kindly towards her?’

  My mouth was dry suddenly; I swallowed a forkful of kidney with difficulty.

  ‘I’m sure whatever her circumstances she must have had good reason,’ I said levelly, hiding behind the reasoning I had always fallen back on for comfort. ‘No, unless I was to learn something to convince me otherwise, I don’t blame her. Whoever she was, she was my mother. I must think the best of her.’

  Selena was silent for a moment. I wondered what was coming. Then she dabbed her mouth and stood up.

  ‘You must excuse me, Charity. I have a great deal to do. Mrs Durbin will be expecting me to check the menus for the day and with Charlotte coming home… As Francis said, until she arrives, your time is your own. The gardens are very pleasant at this time of day and I’m sure you would like to explore them. When Charlotte arrives I will come and find you. But I don’t expect her before noon.’

  So Selena was not going to take the opportunity to enlighten me as to the reason I was here. With a swish of her skirts she left the room and I was alone.

  When I had finished my breakfast I found a tray on the sideboard, piled the used dishes together and took them to the kitchen. I was not sure if this was what I was expected to do or not; no one had outlined my duties beyond instructing Charlotte, but I was not used to being waited on and if Mrs Durbin was so busy it seemed the right thing to do.

  The kitchen was deserted; there was no sign of Mrs Durbin or any maid. It was surprising, I thought, that the Trevelyans had so few servants. In a house this size I would have expected there to be a kitchen maid at least as well as the housekeeper. Clearly this was not the case, since Mrs Durbin had complained about the lack of help.

  I unloaded the dishes into the sink but stopped short of washing them. Though I was anxious not to appear lazy, neither did I want to trespass in what was clearly Mrs Durbin’s domain.

  I went back to my room, made my bed and tidied away the things I had been too tired and too overwrought to attend to last night. Then I decided I would do as Selena had suggested and explore the gardens.

  As I went back downstairs and through the house I saw no one. Voices coming from the parlour suggested Selena was going through the day’s menus with Mrs Durbin there. I hurried past. There was a back door leading directly to the lawns, but when I tried it I found it locked, so I used the main door and followed the path around the side of the house.

  The gardens were indeed pleasant, the morning sun drawing the perfume from the roses. I stopped to sniff one; it was just opening and dew lay like drops of crystal on its velvety petals. I wished I could pick it and pin it to my gown but to do so would be to kill it in all its perfection, a sacrilegious betrayal, and in any case, it was not mine to pick.

  Low down in the garden, near the gate leading to the cliff path, was a sort of arbour, its high-backed frame sheltering it from the wind off the sea. I sat down on it and smelled camomile; the whole seat was covered with it and my weight had crushed it and released the perfume.

  The peace was complete; far beneath me I could hear the swell of the sea but otherwise there was no sound. Even the cawing of the rooks and the cries of the seabirds wheeling overhead were muted. As I sat there pondering on all that had occurred the sun was warm on my face and I began to feel drowsy. I had, after all, slept little last night. The last thing I had intended was to sleep now but I closed my eyes anyway and felt the world going far away, this strange, unfamiliar world with its myriad of unanswered questions, at once so overbearing, so exciting, and, at the moment, so peaceful.

  I slept. I must have done, because when the voice spoke to me I came to with a start, wondering for the moment where I was.

  ‘Miss Palfrey! My apologies! I didn’t mean to disturb you.’

  Tom Stanton was standing before me, a small half-smile on his good-looking face. Startled, I wondered where he had come from, but since the gate leading to the cliff path was s
winging open it seemed likely he had come that way.

  ‘Oh, you are not disturbing me!’ I said quickly. My heart was beating very fast – from the shock of my sudden awakening, I told myself, but knew different all the same.

  ‘My apologies anyway,’ he said lightly. ‘I suppose it would be impolite of me to say I thought for a moment that you were asleep.’

  ‘I think I might have been,’ I admitted, my hands flying to my hair to make sure it had not come loose. ‘But sleeping in the middle of the morning is a disgraceful thing to do. You’ve done me a service by waking me.’

  He stood looking down at me, legs splayed, hands on hips, and that same smile that had affected me so yesterday lifting the corners of his generous mouth. Unexpectedly I felt my cheeks growing hot. That was what came of having thoughts about a man! I told myself.

  ‘The Trevelyans are not working you too hard it seems,’ he said.

  I bridled a little. ‘My duties don’t begin until Charlotte gets home from her grandfather’s,’ I said. ‘Until then my time is my own.’

  ‘Ah.’ Tom glanced in the direction of the house. ‘I have come to see Francis. Is he busy, do you know?’

  ‘He’s out. He left on business the moment he had breakfasted,’ I said. ‘I don’t know when he’ll be back, but certainly not this morning. Charlotte is due back at noon and he asked Selena to make the introductions between us.’

  ‘Then I have had a wasted journey.’ But he did not look particularly downcast. ‘Or perhaps not,’ he added, lifting an eyebrow at me. ‘I promised to show you something of the district and we are both at a loose end it seems. Why don’t we take advantage of that?’

  I felt the colour deepen in my cheeks.

  ‘Now?’ I said. ‘Oh, I don’t think…’

  ‘Are you turning me down, Miss Palfrey?’ The amused look seemed to have strayed into his voice.

  ‘I… I can’t just wander off…’

  ‘Why not?’ he challenged me. ‘You said your time was your own this morning. Why, if I know Selena, she’ll be far too busy to even notice you’ve gone.’

  Given Selena’s especial interest in me I was not so sure about that, but I could hardly say so.

  ‘But I must be sure to be here when Charlotte arrives,’ I murmured weakly.

  ‘Charlotte won’t be here until noon, you told me,’ Tom said. ‘That’s a good two hours off. Plenty of time for the exploration I have in mind. Live a little dangerously, Miss Palfrey, and keep me company.’

  Live a little dangerously! If only he knew! And his offer was very inviting. I made up my mind.

  ‘Very well,’ I said recklessly. ‘You have talked me into it. I’ll come with you on one condition.’

  ‘And what is that?’

  ‘You must stop calling me Miss Palfrey. It makes me feel like an old spinster lady. Being a governess is bad enough!’

  ‘So what should I call you?’ he asked.

  ‘My given name is Charity,’ I said. ‘It’s served me well enough these twenty years.’

  His eyes held mine. The smile from his mouth had reached them.

  ‘Very well – Charity. And I am Tom. I don’t much like being called Mr Stanton either.’

  I stood up, tipping my head to one side and looking up into his face.

  ‘So, where are you going to take me, Tom?’ I asked pertly, and realised that for the first time in my life I was flirting.

  * * *

  He led me back out of the gate on to the cliff path but not down the track to the beach. In the full light of day I saw that another well-worn path followed the line of the cliff into the bay and out again towards the sentry outcrops in both directions, down, and then steeply up once more.

  ‘How are you on rough ground?’ he asked me with a doubtful glance at my slippers.

  ‘Like a mountain goat,’ I assured him. ‘I grew up scrambling in the most inaccessible places after my brothers.’

  ‘Your brothers?’ he queried.

  ‘Adopted brothers. The sons of the parson and his wife who gave me a home. There were four of them. Jem, the eldest, lives not far from here now. He’s a clerk in Falmouth.’

  ‘Falmouth!’ Tom said. ‘It is a small world indeed! I grew up in Falmouth.’

  ‘Really?’ Somehow the connection made it all right that I was out alone with him. ‘And do you have family there?’

  ‘No, I have no family now.’ His tone was abrupt. I wished I had not asked.

  ‘So your brothers turned you into something of a tomboy, Charity,’ he said, changing the subject.

  I laughed self-consciously. ‘I suppose so.’

  We had completed the descent now and started the steep climb up what I thought of as the left sentry cliff. Soon we had no more breath for talking – or at least I did not, for Tom was setting a fast pace and it was as much as I could do to keep up with him.

  As we reached the top I stopped, pressing a hand to my heaving chest.

  ‘Wait a moment while I get my breath!’

  Tom turned, looking at me anxiously.

  ‘I’ll be fine in a moment,’ I assured him. ‘I’m clearly out of practice.’

  ‘There are still a lot of ups and downs to go,’ he warned me. ‘Are you sure you can manage it?’

  ‘Quite sure,’ I replied. ‘Only can we do the ups a bit more slowly?’

  We set off again at a more leisurely pace. For the moment the path was flat across the top of the cliff but ahead I could indeed see that it wove down and up again into the coves that ran along the coast like a string of beads.

  After perhaps half an hour or so of walking Tom stopped again. We were on a high plateau and the path ahead curved with the land around a narrow inlet.

  ‘This is the place,’ he said. ‘We have to go down the cliff here.’

  I glanced down. The ground fell steeply to a pool far below, sapphire-blue and sparkling in the sunlight. There was no clearly defined path; we would have to pick our way carefully if we were not to lose our balance and go tumbling down.

  ‘It’s not as bad as it looks,’ Tom reassured me. ‘And it’s well worth the effort. Don’t worry, I’ll help you.’

  He started down, picking a zigzag path, and I followed. He was right, it was not as bad as it looked and there were plenty of thick clumps of thrift to hold on to. At one point I noticed a stream trickling alongside us, roughly following the route we were taking down to the sea.

  The last few feet dropped steeply between boulders to a patch of shingle.

  ‘Wait there,’ Tom said. He scrambled down to the shingle and turned, reaching up towards me. ‘Give me your hand.’

  I did as he said. His grip was strong enough to give me confidence, though the rocks felt slightly slippery beneath my feet. When I too was standing on the shingle he released my hand and I felt a twinge of regret. But only for a moment, for I was entranced by the tiny cove in which I found myself.

  The pool I had seen from the cliff top was at my feet now, crystal clear and shimmering as the sunlight glanced off it and the little stream ran into it from the rocks above, no longer trickling but pouring like a waterfall from a height of perhaps five or six feet.

  ‘This is a freshwater pool!’ I said, surprised.

  ‘Yes. I’ve rescued a frog from here before now,’ Tom said. ‘They lose their way sometimes and get washed down if the stream is running high.’

  ‘Oh, poor thing! And then they drown…’

  ‘Not if I find them first,’ Tom said. ‘But there’s more. Provided you are prepared to get your feet wet.’

  ‘My feet…? You mean I should paddle…?’

  ‘If you want to see something really spectacular.’ Tom was already taking off his shoes and placing them on a flat dry boulder.

  I did. And I wanted to dabble my feet in the water which looked so inviting! I kicked off my slippers and laid them on the rock beside Tom’s shoes. Then I hesitated.

  ‘Turn around whilst I take off my stockings,’ I ordered Tom.
/>   ‘Coy, then!’ he said with a grin. But he turned around anyway.

  I rolled down my stockings and pushed them into my slippers. Then, throwing decorum to the winds, I hitched up my skirts.

  ‘Ready.’

  He stepped down into the pool and reached out to me.

  ‘Take my hand.’

  I did not need to be told twice. His hand had felt so good in mine. I twined my fingers with his and stepped down into the pool. The water felt icy cold to my bare feet, but sweet and soft, though the shingle was sharp and gritty beneath my toes.

  ‘This way.’ He led me back towards the cliff and I wondered what Mama Mary would say if she could see me now, wading barefoot through the water with my skirts hitched up above my knees, hand in hand with a man I scarcely knew. It was hardly the behaviour of a lady – but when had I been a lady?

  There was a double cleft in the rock, a tiny narrow cave. Tom led me through it into the tiny cavern beyond, then turned me around to face the sea.

  ‘There!’ he said, and there was pride in his voice. ‘Was it worth the effort?’

  For a moment I could not find my voice to reply. I was too awestruck by the beauty of the vision before me.

  We were immediately behind the spot where the stream cascaded over the cliff edge. It formed a moving curtain of water over the second cleft directly in front of me and the sun, shining through it, made a prism of each droplet. It made a sparkling cascade against the blue sky beyond, a magic rainbow come to earth, splashing softly, ceaselessly, into the rock pool.

  ‘Oh!’ I gasped. ‘Oh – it’s marvellous!’

  ‘I thought you’d like it.’ I was not looking at him – I could not take my eyes off the mesmerising cascade – but I heard the smile in his voice.

  ‘Like it! Oh – I’ve never seen anything so beautiful!’

  How long I stood there entranced I do not know. Then gradually I became aware that my hand was still in Tom’s and it was all part of the magic of the moment.

  I looked up at him, at his face, half-shadowed and very strong-looking, and felt a twist deep inside. Instantly my defences came up.