The Twisted Sword (19 page)

'There's no way you can help, Ben. But maybe I could go and see young Mr Warleggan, make sure if I can that Katie isn't being blamed.'

Ben did not look at her. That'd be a rare kindness. D'ye mean on this visit?'

'I can call in tomorrow morning on my way home. It is scarcely out of my way, and he is my cousin.'

'If,' said Ben, 'if you did so happen to see Katie, 'twould be another kindness just t'ave a word with she. She seem to bamfer herself with vain regrets.'

II

Since the Enyses were away she had had it half in mind that she might call and see Valentine and Selina anyway. The grey mild moody weather of yesterday had been dismissed by a fresh westerly breeze, hurrying cloud and sun across with an occasional freckle of rain. It was just such a day when Clowance's mother had ridden this way years before Clowance was born to make the acquaintance of Sir John Trevaunance on behalf of Ross, who was shortly to stand trial for his life. Not much had changed in the appearance of the house since then, except that the scars of the long abandoned copper smelting works were almost healed over and a new excavation, only recently begun and nearer the house, showed raw earth in piles, and brick and stone and a dozen men toiling. When she reached the pillared porch she was about to slide down from her saddle when the doors opened and Valentine came quickly out to hand her down.

'Well, well, Clowance it is! We saw you coming along the valley. I said to Tom, can it really be, and alone and unescorted, my very own cousin? And look who is here to greet you!'

In the doorway Tom Guildford was standing. He came forward smiling his sweet smile, and kissed her on the lips in uninhibited fashion. She felt herself flushing.

'Clowance! What a pleasure! And the more joyous for being so unexpected. Have you been visiting your old home?'

They went in. Selina was not about. Tom, whom Clowance had first met through Valentine, was staying a few days with the young Warleggans, and they exchanged news. They knew nothing of Demelza's scares and trials or presence in Brussels nor of Ross's internment. It was a sorry business, said Valentine, but there was a strong peace party in England. 'I'm told the officers of the 51st at Portsmouth drank a toast to Old Nap last week; and Whitbread in the Commons has said that Bonaparte has been welcomed back to France as a liberator, and that it would be monstrous to declare war on a people in order to impose a government they didn't want. D'you know, I believe he's right. They say there's going to be an entirely new constitution in France which will effectively hobble Old Nap if he becomes too warlike. I wish 'em luck and predict there will be no war.'

'All the nations of Europe', Tom said, 'have pledged themselves to depose him. I do not see how they can break such an undertaking.'

"You do not?' said Valentine, and laughed. 'Don't you remember it's only a couple of years ago since they broke all their previous treaties -- with Bonaparte! One fraud is no greater than another. They would change sides and drop their arms tomorrow if it should suit their interests!'

Selina came downstairs, as willowy and as ash-blonde as ever, with her sleepy Siamese cat's eyes and contained manner. She insisted Clowance should stay to an early dinner. They talked and laughed until the meal was ready. Clowance thought she detected a coolness between husband and wife. It would not be surprising, she imagined, since Valentine took a delight in teasing people and Selina perceptibly lacked a sense of humour. They were starting a new mining venture not far from the house -- perhaps she had noticed it? - on the strength of some old maps and some new samples. It was all thought up first by Unwin Trevaunance and a man called Chenhalls, but they'd been sent packing. It was their own venture now and they had high hopes. Copper price was good at present. Wheal Leisure a few miles along the coast was doing very nicely. Wheal Elizabeth, she was to be called. After dinner, when the servants were out of the room, Clowance told them she had heard about Saul Grieves. It was easier this way, with Tom Guildford present, rather than mentioning it privately to Selina. Valentine said he wished now he'd brought the lazy rogue up in court; he deserved to be hanged or sent to the hulks; but Selina, who was partial to the man's good looks, had said just turn him out, get rid of him, the loss is small. After Selina had made her ritual indignant protest, Clowance said: 'And Katie?'

Selina looked obliquely at her. 'Oh, the scarf. That was indeed ill done. She should have known better.'

'Perhaps she did know better,' said Valentine. 'She was completely under his thumb - and maybe not only his thumb!'

'Ben Carter, her brother, is worried about her,' said Clowance.

'Rightly so,' said Valentine. 'She should have gone too.'

'On the whole I think not,' said Selina, as if it pleased her to disagree. 'Katie has been with us since we came here - in 1808. She is a clumsy, simple girl but very loyal. I do not think she would willingly have connived with theft.'

'Is she still with you, then?' asked Clowance innocently.

'I have not seen her today.'

'She's in the kitchen. At the moment I have put her back in the kitchen, just as a punishment. But if all goes well I'll restore her as a parlourmaid when we return for the summer.'

'Do you think', Clowance said, 'I might have a word with her before I leave?' At Selina's surprised look she added:

'Ben asked me to see her. I am told she is taking this very much to heart.'

Selina glanced at Valentine, who looked down his long thin nose and said: 'Little cousin, you may do so if it pleases you. I beg you not to remove altogether her sense of guilt'

Tom said: 'When you leave, Clowance, I'll come with you.'

'Oh, Tom, no, please! There is no danger in riding alone.'

'No danger, but is there pleasure? At least afford me the pleasure. I shall come with you to the verges of Penryn and leave before your husband sees me ... Is he at home or sailing the seas?'

'He's at home.'

'Anyway, I have to visit my uncle, and today would be exactly right, in the middle of my stay. If you don't want to talk to me I promise to follow behind.'

'Oh Tom,' said Clowance, laughing, 'of course you may come if you wish. So long as you are not coming out of your way.'

'I assure you, I am not coming out of my way.'

They left just before three. The wind had slackened and backed, and thin cloud like a gauze scarf had drifted up to wreathe the sun. But it did not indicate real rain until tomorrow. As they left, as they reached the top of the rise before they turned inland, Clowance cast a backward glance.

'Do you miss it?' Tom asked.

'What? The sea? No, I have it on my own doorstep! But yes, well, it is a somewhat different sea -- by no means docile but - different. I suppose I miss the cliffs and the surf and something of the wildness.'

'But you are happy?'

'Yes. Oh yes. And we are building a house!'

She told him of it as they jogged along, horses at walking pace, all the afternoon to spend. He told her of an offer he had had from the East India Company, to go out to Bengal as a legal adviser.

'Shall you take it?'

'It's the place to make money. I should probably come back at forty a nabob. And I have no family ties, as you know.'

'Then?'

He checked his horse, which, encouraged by the slow progress, had wanted to stop and tear off some grass.

'I have a fancy for the English bar. And if mere vulgar money were being considered, that is not an ill-paid profession - for the successful!'

'How long have you to decide?'

'Some months. The man I would be replacing is not due to leave Calcutta until September. They would probably need an answer by July.'

'And what shall decide you?'

'Probably my feelings for a young lady called Parthesia. Better known as Patty.'

Clowance also checked her horse. 'Oh? Oh . ..' She looked across at a smoking mine chimney. 'Do you love her?'

'No.'

'Does she love you?'

'She affects to. It would suit her to marry me. And we like each other. I think it would be an agreeable match.'

'Is she pretty?'

'Not as pretty as you.'

By accident or design Nero moved ahead of the other horse so that there was no conversation for a minute or two.

Then Clowance said: 'I'm sorry, Tom. I shouldn't have said that.'

'Perhaps I should not have said that either. But surely what has long been acknowledged between us need not be hidden for the sake of circumspection because you are now married. We are both grown up enough to see facts as they are, without embarrassment.'

They rode on a while in silence. Clowance said: 'So that is another decision you will have to make shortly.'

'Indeed.' Tom added with a glint of humour: 'Probably by the beginning of the Michaelmas term.'

Later he told her of the riots there had been in London last month, as a result of the proposed Corn Bill. There had been sixty thousand signatories against it and a mob had gained entrance to the house of F. J. Robinson, in Burlington Street, the mover of the Bill, and systematically wrecked it. The Earl of Pembroke, on his way to the Lords, had had his carriage broken to pieces. Lord Darnley's house in Berkeley Square and Mr WellesleyPole's in Savile Row had been severely damaged and the military had had to be called out.

"Your father should have been there,' said Tom. 'He was telling me that day when I called to see you that his Radical friends trusted above all in peaceful reform; but I suppose they can be goaded beyond the breaking point.'

'The crowd can,' said Clowance. Yes, and with a pretty good reason. The price of a quartern-loaf in London is already three times what it is in Paris. Mr Baring made a splendid remark in the Commons against the Bill, which as you know would prohibit imported corn. He said - if I can remember it, he said - that the theory behind the Bill was that you must cut your population to suit your supplies of homegrown corn, instead of regulating the supply of corn by the needs of the population. This, he said, is not lengthening the bed to fit the man but shortening the man to fit the bed!"

The sun was fading altogether now and the backing wind was bringing up its own supplies of herringbone cloud.

'Perhaps you will go into Parliament, Tom.'

"The law is often a way in. But the difficulty I have is that I sway between one view and another. I should not know whom to attach myself to.'

Just before they separated Clowance told him of Katie. It was in strict confidence, she said.

'You may wonder why I concern myself so much, but Ben and Katie's mother used to work for us at one time. And before that their father, Jim Carter, worked for my father, and he was caught poaching and went to prison, and my father heard he was ill and went to Launceston prison and got him out. But Jim was too ill with fever and died. My father was godfather to Ben - or Benjy Ross, as he was called then. Jinny remarried - a man called Scoble. But these two, Ben and Katie, seem to have been a part of the Poldark family. I know my mother would be concerned.'

'But in what way concerned?' asked Tom. 'From what I heard it sounded as if it was all over.'

'Not quite, alas. I went to see Katie, as you know, to tell her that she was forgiven and that she'd be put back on her parlourmaid duties in a few months. But she tells me she's with child.'

'Ah,' said Tom and flicked at the tall grass on the hedge.

'More or less inevitable, isn't it? Do Valentine and Selina know?'

'No one knows yet. I am the first person she's told. She has only become sure this week.'

'And Grieves is the father?'

'Oh yes. She is not a light girl. Indeed strictly brought up. I was quite astonished. Jinny is a stern Methodist. Katie told me in February that - does this weary you?'

'Not in the least.'

'She told me that she and Grieves were alone in the house one evening and he teased her into taking a glass of wine. Like her brother, she had never tasted liquor. One glass led to another, I suppose, and then ..."

'It does,' agreed Tom. 'So where is Grieves?'

'Gone near a month. No one knows where. Perhaps he could be found, but she swears she would not marry him at any price. She hates that he cheated her over the scarf and is a proven thief. She says she hates him now for having seduced her.'

'What will happen when the Warleggans find out? I'm sure Valentine wouldn't flicker an eyelid.'

'Selina is rather strait-laced, but perhaps I can get round her ... Katie feels the personal disgrace.'

'She cannot be the first in your village.'

'Oh no! Near half, I'd guess, become pregnant before they marry. But they do marry, that's the difference. I hope she will not do anything silly.'

'You told her not to.'

'I told her not to.'

They had come to the parting of the ways.

'How is Betty?' Clowance asked. Betty was Lord Devoran's wayward randy daughter. It was curious that one never asked about Lady Devoran, who still lived, but in complete seclusion; if you called you might see her peering round a corner at you.

'I've yet to find out. I chose to stay with Valentine this time because the company is better. I'm not sure how my uncle will regard this neglect.'

'Ask him,' said Clowance, 'if he ever sets mantraps on his property.'

'Why?'

'No matter. It was just a thought.'

To separate they did not dismount, but Tom somehow manoeuvred his horse into a proximity that enabled him to give Clowance a smacking kiss. Clowance nearly lost her hat. She said: 'Tom, you are nice. It has been good to meet you again.'

'Let us make this a twice yearly assignation. It will keep our friendship warm.'

II

Going home in a degree of personal contentment only discomfortable because of concern for her father, Clowance was surprised to find Andrew Blarney waiting on her doorstep. She kissed him and welcomed him in and made him a pot of tea and they drank it in friendly talk together.

'I put in just to say goodbye, little cousin. Off tomorrow by the noon tide, loading at Par and carrying to Norway. We'll be more than a month away, I suspicion, even if all goes well, which it seldom does with the Chasse Marie. Damned Frenchies can build well when they want to, but not when they knocked the old Chasse together. Last trip even just from Swansea ... "A leaky ship with her anchor down, Hurrah, me boys, Hurrah!"'

'I think perhaps that's where Bella gets her aptitude from.'

'What aptitude?'

'Liking to sing comic songs, not always in tune.'

'Thank you, Clowance. You are too kind.' He stirred his tea and stretched his sturdy legs towards the fire. Clowance said: 'Do you ever regret leaving the Packet Service, Andrew?'

'No choice, little cousin. The bailiffs were after me.'

'That doesn't answer my question, big cousin.'

His heavy sandy eyebrows wrinkled. 'I sent Jason and Fred Barton up to furl the mainsail, and the strap supporting the upper block gave way. Down they came, yard and all. It was the greatest good fortune no one was crippled. That shouldn't happen on any vessel decently crafted . .. We were off Land's End. Luckily the wind was taking off and the sea was light.'

'You told Stephen?'

'Oh, yes. He pays the bills, doesn't he? Not too pleased about it neither ... Clowance.'

Yes?'

'What do you think of young Jason?'

'I've ... hardly met him.'

'D'you like him?'

'So far as I know him. Don't you?'

'Not much. A bit above himself, you might say. Stephen's pushing him up the ladder, wanted to make him mate under me for the next voyage. He hasn't the experience. A lad of that age should be the ship's boy. It's the way things go, always have gone, at sea; begin at the bottom, cooking, cleaning, brass-polishing, scrubbing. There's six of us on the Chasse Maree, and there was some grumbling on the last trip. The older men don't like it.'

'I suppose Stephen wants to do the best for his nephew.'

'Dear yes, my handsome. But I don't think it will do. Heigh-ho, I mustn't bother you with my troubles. Where is Stephen now?'

'I don't know. Still in Truro perhaps.'

'Oh no, I caught a glimpse of his jib this morning coming out of the chandlers - Priors, that is -- he was luffing up towards the Royal Standard, but he was wearing a grim face, and we've not been seeing quite eye to eye recently, so I did not hail him.'

Clowance poked the fire and put on some coal. 'Why have you not been seeing eye to eye?'

'Well, chiefly over Jason. I told him last Monday what I thought, so he's taken Jason off the Chasse Maree. I'm sailing one crewman short, will pick one up in Par. I've made Fred Barton mate. He's forty-eight, married with two children; he's been at sea since he was sixteen. He deserves the extra money.'

Clowance thought Stephen might well have wanted Jason to sail with Andrew to keep him from being too much in evidence when she was about. Andrew had been watching her expression. He suddenly laughed. 'You're a dear, good girl. I wish you had fallen in love with me.'

'I always thought that was a joke.' She smiled wide-eyed at him. 'Wasn't it? About it not mattering us being cousins .. .'

'Truth and jest - you can't always separate 'em, can you? Anyway... What's the time? I must weigh anchor.'

'Stay till Stephen comes.'

'I still have to take leave of my parents. My dear mama continues to extend all her usual indulgence towards her one ewe lamb.' He got up.

'What were you going to say, Andrew?'

'When?'

'A moment ago. You broke off.'

'Did I? So I did. But you should not have noticed. Ah well. ..'

'Well what?'

'Little cousin, you are very persistent. Well, to tell the truth--' He broke off. 'Have you noticed when folk say "to tell the truth" it means they are going to tell a big lie - or else that they have been lying before? To tell the truth then, really the truth, since I know you are happy wed to Stephen, and lost to all your other suitors including me, my eyes and my fancies are straying elsewhere.'

'Oh?' Clowance looked pleased. 'In a particular direction?'

'In a particular direction.'

'May I know the fortunate young lady?'

You may. You do. But slightly. Whether you consider her or me fortunate in this matter is another kettle offish.'

'Come along,' said Clowance, getting up. 'Who is it?'

'Thomasine Trevethan, George's younger sister. You've seen her once or twice at Cardew. George Trevethan is twenty-six. Tamsin is twenty.'

'But how lovely, Andrew! What should be wrong with it? Does she not care for you?'

'I believe she cares. Yes, I know she does. But her father owns the gunpowder mills up the valley. They're a family with money. I have reason to know they do not think the master of a tramp schooner that he's got no interest in no financial interest in and no money outside his meagre pay, is any sort of catch for their only daughter.'

She went with him to the door in the half dark of evening and watched him tramp off towards the steep steps mat led to the harbour. He had borrowed a skiff which would take him down the creek and across to Flushing. There was a moon somewhere but the gathering cloud and mists off the sea had so far obscured it. 'And like a dying lady lean and pale,' Clowance had read somewhere,

'who totters forth wrapped in a gauzy veil.' That was what the moon would be like tonight, rising slowly, overlooking the dulled silver platter of the bay, the tendrils of smoke climbing up from the roofs of the town. Lights winking here and there. When the evening comes and the busy world is hushed. Even footsteps, voices, the barking of a dog were absorbed into the empty air. Where was Stephen? Of course she should have known he was home because the fire had been in, though smouldering on its last embers when she returned. What was there to eat in the house? Eggs, bread, butter, milk, the remains of a flitch of bacon. Should she go down to the quay, buy some mackerel or a piece of hake? She was not hungry and he might have eaten out. Better to wait until he came. He must have expected her today, but there was no note. Somehow she must persuade him to be more generous towards Andrew. He was not at all an ungenerous man but perhaps possessive, reluctant to share any power he had come by. It would not help that they had had words over Jason.