Matters of the Heart (2 page)

2

The housekeeper, Mrs Dobbs, greeted us as we stepped into the vast hall. She was a small, plump woman, her grey curly hair escaping from a bun drawn back carelessly from her kindly face. She was dressed in black from head to foot, a large bunch of keys jangling at her waist. I quickly took in my surroundings, noticing a fire burning cheerily in the large, stone hearth. Mrs Dobbs saw me glance toward it.

‘The house gets chilly this time of year in the evening, Miss Merriock, and we wished to give you a warm welcome. If you follow me, miss, I’ll show you to your room.’

As I followed Mrs Dobbs, I glanced back at Robert who gave me an encouraging smile. I noted the huge portraits covering the stone walls and guessed them to be my ancestors. The red carpet beneath my feet had at one time been thick, but sadly was now almost threadbare in places. As we reached the top of the wide staircase, corridors stretched to the right and left, and were rambling, as my mother had said. Even now, oil lamps were lit to dispel the impending gloom of evening. I followed Mrs Dobbs. It seemed we passed a hundred doors before she opened an oak door on our right.

‘This is the yellow room, Miss Merriock, your mother’s until she left this house over twenty years ago. We hope you’ll be very comfortable in here.’

I stepped into a room which gave the appearance of continual sunlight. The heavy curtains and bed hangings were of a yellow damask material. The heavy rug on the polished floor was interspersed with large yellow roses. Even the pictures were of all things yellow. I looked around me with delight.

‘It is a beautiful room, Mrs Dobbs, and even more so as it was my mother’s.’

Mrs Dobbs stood in the doorway, a gentle smile on her face. I longed to ask her if she’d known my mother, but thought it best to wait.

‘Your grandmother will be delighted you are so pleased. She is anxious to meet you.’

I was as anxious to meet her, and was a little disappointed that she had not greeted my arrival. At that moment a man appeared behind Mrs Dobbs.

‘Miss Merriock’s bags,’ he said in a thick accent quite unfamiliar to me.

The housekeeper thanked Thomas, as he was called, and he carried my bags into the room.

‘I will send your maid to you shortly. You are no doubt tired after your long journey and such a lot to take in.’

As she spoke she moved toward the door.

‘I will tell the mistress you have arrived,’ she added, and closed the door. Like a child, I twirled around and almost ran to the full-length window, eager to see the view. There was a balcony, I noticed, and excitedly I undid the window catch and stepped out on to it, leaning over the stone balustrade. I was at the front of the house, but I could see nothing, the mist was now so dense. I guessed the sea to be on my left as I could hear the muffled sound of the waves crashing on the rocks. I was disappointed but prayed for a clear day tomorrow.

I had the rest of the day to deal with first, and the thought of the meeting with my grandmother brought the butterflies back to my stomach. I had a fleeting thought of Robert Thornton, wishing he were near. As I fastened the catch on the window, there was a light knock at my door and Molly appeared. I could sense she was as excited as I was.

‘Oh, miss, what a lovely room,’ she enthused. ‘I’m to share a room with Lizzie, as some rooms are being done up.’

‘And is she nice, this Lizzie?’ I asked, anxious to ascertain that Molly was content.

‘Why, yes, miss, except she talks sort of foreign.’

At this I smiled, thinking of Tom.

‘Miss, we must get you ready for dinner. We are to meet Mrs Dobbs at the head of the staircase at seven-thirty so you can meet your grandma.’

I quickly undid the ribbons and removed my bonnet while Molly lit the lamps. A maid brought water and filled the hipbath. She never spoke a word and just bobbed a curtsey as she left. I sank gratefully into the scented water and washed the grime of the day’s journey away while Molly unpacked what little clothes I had with me. I would be glad when our possessions arrived by coach at Penzance the following day.

Molly helped me into my pale blue silk evening dress and redid my hair in the chignon I so loved. The finishing touch was the pearls my papa had given me on my sixteenth birthday. I looked at the finished result in the full-length mirror on the wardrobe door. My reflection pleased me.

All too soon it was nearing seven-thirty and we made our way to the staircase where the housekeeper was waiting. Molly left us and I descended the stairs with Mrs Dobbs, feeling quite confident, until I caught sight of Robert Thornton in the hall below. He was dressed for dinner in a black jacket and white shirt. My legs suddenly turned to jelly and I caught hold of the banister as he looked up at me, following my progress.

‘Miss Merriock,’ he murmured meeting me at the bottom of the staircase, ‘I’ve come to wish you luck.’

He smiled and I suddenly felt confident again. As Mrs Dobbs led me to the door of the drawing-room, I took a deep breath before entering. I stepped into the huge drawing-room and quickly took in the tall french windows opposite with heavy blue velvet drapes.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see a fire burning merrily in the large stone fireplace.

‘Thank you for coming, my child.’

I heard the voice before I saw my grandmother. There was a rustle of stiff taffeta and as the shadow moved towards me I could see she was dressed entirely in black with a lace mantilla over her greying hair. The only hint of colour came from a large emerald ring she wore on her left hand. Although Grandmother was in sombre dress, her person was anything but. I had imagined her to be tall and austere but the plump and pretty face looking at me was suffused with joy. Suddenly the cloud which hung over me disappeared for I knew that she was sincerely pleased to see me. She held out her hands to me.

‘Jane, my dearest child.’

I almost ran to her, placing my hands in hers. Then she clasped me to her and I was engulfed in a soft, fragrant embrace. She held me at arm’s length.

‘How lovely you are, child, and so much like your mother. I believe you have her charm and will bewitch any young man who looks at you.’

‘Oh, Grandmother!’ I exclaimed huskily, scarcely able to believe my good fortune. ‘I was so afraid you might not really want me here.’

‘Not want you, my dear child? I have been counting the days.’

As she spoke, she indicated for me to be seated on the floral couch by the hearth. She seated herself opposite me and pulled the bell chord by her side. In what seemed no time at all, a maid appeared.

‘Ah, Lizzie, please light the lamps and replenish the fire.’

My grandmother spoke softly, all the while surveying me by the firelight. Her next words addressed me.

‘You are not spoken for?’

The question puzzled me.

‘I have never met a gentleman who reached my expectations.’

As I spoke, I thought fleetingly of Robert Thornton, so was amazed at Grandmother’s next words.

‘You have met Robert, my estate manager. I hold him in high regard. It would please me greatly if you and he could be good friends.’

There was no answer to this and I guessed Grandmother expected none as she continued.

‘Tell me about your mother, my dear. Was she happy?’

‘As happy as any person could be, with the man she loved. They’ve made me happy, too, and it was a great loss when they died.’

The thought of them saddened me. My grandmother must have sensed my mood for she laid a hand over mine.

‘You have me now, my dear, and I have you. I have wanted to know you since your birth but your grandfather was very stubborn and ruled this house with an iron hand. Far too harsh he was at times, I felt, but when one is married to such a man...’

Her words trailed off and I understood. She wanted me to understand my mother’s banishment was not of her making and I believed this to be so. My grandmother wanted me to talk of my mother as she continued.

‘Do you have any possessions belonging to your mother, Jane?’

‘A small chest holds her valued treasures but I have not been able to bring myself to open it.’

This was true. The thought of looking through my mother’s things upset me and I had put it off many times, despite my curiosity. Grandmother’s voice cut across my thoughts.

‘Perhaps now you are in her home it will be easier for you, my child. Your mother kept a diary, you know, maybe more than one. She let no-one see them. It would be nice to think you will find them so that you will have some insight into her life here.’

We had no more time to talk as at that point Robert Thornton entered the room, accompanied by a pleasant-looking, dark-haired woman. As my grandmother rose, so did I to face the newcomer who appraised me with piercing, cold blue eyes and I instinctively knew I faced an enemy.

‘This is your Aunt Laura, your mother’s elder sister.’

There was no similarity between my mother and her sister, Laura. My mother had been fair and tall, Laura was short and dark.

She held out her hand condescendingly toward me and I took it with as little grace as she offered it. My spirits sank as Aunt Laura linked her arm almost intimately through Robert Thornton’s. He had been watching the scene before him and suddenly spoke in a soft, authoritative voice.

‘I shall escort Miss Merriock into dinner as she is our guest,’ he said, much to my aunt’s displeasure.

Dinner was a quiet affair, interspersed with trivial conversation. We sat at one end of a vast table in a huge dining-room with red walls, which by the end of the meal started to swim before my eyes. I excused myself as I was obviously over tired and the soft bed in my room beckoned me.

As soon as I stepped into my room, I knew someone had entered it while I was at dinner. A trace of perfume, not my own, lingered in the air. I looked around but nothing seemed to have been disturbed. Then I saw it — a piece of grey paper on my dressing-table. I stood transfixed for a moment before picking it up in my trembling hand. The words leaped up at me.

LEAVE PENDENNA BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE.

Who would write such a thing? I screwed the paper up fiercely and threw it in the wastebin. As I climbed into bed, I wondered if I had a friend or an enemy at Pendenna and guessed it to be the latter.

3

Although tired, I slept fitfully that night. The unfamiliar bed plus creaks and groans from the house contributed to my sleeping and waking. I imagined the mist whispering conspiratorially through the cracks in the old, stone walls. I must have fallen into a more restful slumber in the early hours as I awoke with a start to the sound of Molly drawing back the heavy curtains. She turned and saw I was awake.

‘It is a glorious morning, miss. Did you sleep well? You look a little dark under the eyes but perhaps this will refresh you.’

She placed a tray laden with tea and bacon with scrambled eggs on the bed. I hadn’t realised how hungry I was after picking at my dinner the previous evening. I ate and drank while Molly tidied my clothes and tipped steaming water out of a huge pitcher into a china washbowl. I idly wondered how on earth she had carried the water up the stairs.

On climbing out of bed, I went to the window and stepped on to the balcony, eager to see the view. All the mist had vanished and I could see the sun glimmering on the calm sea. I realised the house was built on the edge of a precipitous cliff and tried to imagine a path to the sea below. Suddenly I was eager to explore my surroundings just as I heard Molly tell me to get back in before I caught a chill and realised I was in my nightshift.

‘Lawks, miss,’ Molly said, fussing around, ‘you will catch your death.’

‘Don’t fuss so, Molly,’ I admonished lightly as she helped me into an emerald green day dress. ‘I am anxious to explore and I would like you to come with me, Molly. My grandmother doesn’t rise until late and I promised to meet her for luncheon. Aunt Laura takes breakfast in her room.’

‘And rarely leaves it,’ Molly cut in, ‘or so cook says.’

I turned at Molly’s words.

‘But I met her last evening. She was quite sociable, if somewhat aloof.’

‘Sorry, miss, it’s not for me to say.’

‘Don’t worry, Molly. I want you to tell me everything about the people in this house even if it is idle kitchen gossip. Come, we have a lot to do before luncheon. I will take my cream shawl because the morning air could be chill. Run and get yours and I will meet you in the hallway.’

‘But, miss, I ain’t allowed out the front way, Cook says.’

‘When you are with me you can go out any way. Now run along.’

While waiting for Molly in the hall I remembered Robert Thornton mentioning the stables to the rear of the house. That would be my first place to visit. While not an accomplished horsewoman, I had learned to ride in Paris and enjoyed it.

The sun shone warmly from a clear blue sky as Molly and I made our way to the rear of the house. We lingered to look out to sea as Molly had never been out of London till yesterday. She didn’t, however, seem overawed by the scenery before us.

‘It’s not as wild as I thought it would be,’ she observed.

‘Not at this moment, Molly, it is true but the sea has many moods and this is only one of them. I know it can be very wild.’

I ventured toward the cliff edge much to Molly’s dismay as she stayed rooted to the spot. As I got nearer, peering over the cliff, I could see that below lay a small cove covered in shingle and rocks. I could see a path zig-zagging down towards it and couldn’t wait to get down there but guessed Molly would not be keen to accompany me. No matter, I would find a moment to go myself. I stepped back and made my way to Molly who was relieved to have me back safely by her side.

To the rear of the house was a full-length courtyard and we could see the stables at the far end. As we approached, I could see a female mounted on a grey horse and as we neared I could see it was Aunt Laura. Her horse was restless and I wondered why she waited.

‘Good morning, Aunt,’ I ventured pleasantly. ‘What a beautiful mount.’

‘This is my mare, Misty. Did you sleep well, Jane?’ she enquired and I thought how different her manner was this morning and wondered if I had imagined her hostility the previous evening.

Before I had time to reply, Robert Thornton appeared, leading a large black horse, a magnificent-looking creature.

‘Do you ride, Miss Merriock?’ he enquired graciously.

‘Indeed I do,’ I replied with pleasure.

‘Then tomorrow perhaps you would care to accompany your aunt and myself. We could ride to see the Dancing Damsels, an intriguing stone circle a short way from here.’

‘I would be pleased to if my aunt is willing.’

I looked at Aunt Laura. Did I imagine the hostility return to her eyes?

‘I will be glad to ride with you, Jane. You could take Amber, a gentle mount. On my return I will arrange for her to be saddled tomorrow.’

My aunt’s reply could not have been more courteous.

‘That is settled then. Come, Thunder,’ Robert Thornton said as he swung himself into the saddle. ‘I will see you at dinner, Miss Merriock.’

Molly and I found a pleasant rose garden to the side of the house where we sat for some time enjoying the warmth of the sun amidst a fading riot of colour. How lovely this must look in the height of summer, I mused. On glancing at my fob watch, I realised with dismay it was nearly time to meet my grandmother. Molly made her way to the side entrance while I crossed to the front of the house. Glancing up, I noted where my room was. It was easy to pick out as it had the only balcony. I was about to look away when a movement at the window caught my attention and I was astonished to see a woman’s face looking down at me, watching me. I turned away and looked back. I had not imagined it — it was still there.

I picked up my skirts and ran to the door. Swiftly I ran up the staircase and along the corridor, intent on finding who would be so presumptuous as to enter my room, but on reaching it and flinging wide the door, the room was empty. All that remained was the lingering scent of lavender I had detected the previous evening.

As I pondered over this little mystery, a ray of sun glinted through the window casting its light on the rug beneath my feet. It was then I noticed my luggage, my mother’s polished chest included, stacked neatly against the wall. Perhaps it had been a maidservant looking down on me, but I dismissed the idea.

Whoever it was the same person who had left the note while I was at dinner the previous evening, I was sure of it.

Looking at my watch, I realised I was late. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, smoothed my hair and removed my shawl. As I reached the foot of the staircase, Mrs Dobbs crossed the hall from the direction of the drawing-room. She stopped and smiled her cheery smile when she saw me.

‘Miss Jane, your grandmother is waiting for you on the terrace where luncheon has been served as it is just the two of you. Are you settling in? Is there anything you need? You only have to ask, you know.’

With that, she paused.

‘I’m fine, thank you, Mrs Dobbs. I noticed my luggage has arrived.’

‘Yes, miss. Thomas took it up. I let him in your room as it arrived just after you went out this morning.’

So there had been no maidservant in my room. The whole incident puzzled me and as I made my way through the drawing-room, I had every intention of asking my grandmother who it could have been.

The tall French windows were open and led out on to a delightful terrace. Grandmother was sat at the end of a table laid with cold meat and salad. She smiled when she saw me.

‘My dear child, come and sit by me.’ She patted the cushion on a wicker chair next to her.

‘Tell me what you’ve been doing this morning.’

‘I’m so sorry to be late, but the time went so quickly,’ I apologised.

‘Apology accepted, Jane. Tea, my dear?’ she asked and as she poured from a while china pot she continued. ‘I know how it was when I came here as a bride nearly forty-five years ago, so much to see both inside and out. I spent days exploring, as I am sure you will do.’

‘Why, yes, Grandmother, I am impatient to see the rest of the house and the beautiful cove I glimpsed this morning,’ I replied enthusiastically. ‘Is it all right for me to wander through the house?’ I asked eagerly.

‘Of course it is, child. I want you to think of this house as your home and if you have any questions, Mrs Dobbs will be only too pleased to help. Of course, the rooms in the east wing are no longer lived in. It is where the nursery and the schoolroom are but since your mother and Aunt Laura grew up, no children...’

Her voice trailed off. I looked up at her and saw a woman saddened by her memories. It may not have been the right time to ask about the occupants of the house but nonetheless I had to know.

‘Does anyone else live here with you, Grandmother, other than Aunt Laura and Mr Thornton?’

Did I imagine the hesitation before she replied?

‘Why no, dear, apart from the servants, of course.’ She changed the subject quite quickly and was smiling once more. ‘Now tell me, Jane, do you read?’

‘I most certainly do, Grandmother.’

‘It would please me so much if you would read to me sometimes, dear. My eyesight isn’t what it once was and the library is at your disposal. One other thing, Jane, your Aunt Laura. If she seems unfriendly at times, take no heed. She has never got over her betrothed, Andrew Trehaine, disappearing before their marriage.’

We spent the next couple of hours talking, mainly of my mother. I learned more of her childhood and I in turn told Grandmother of my childhood and Mother’s life in London. Not once was my father mentioned but given time I felt sure he would be.

We left each other about four o’clock so my grandmother could have a rest before dinner. I returned to my room. On entering it I could see instantly that my belongings had been put away. Molly had obviously been busy while I was downstairs. Mother’s chest stood against the wall. Now was as good a time as any to open it. I retrieved the key to unlock it from my trinket box and as the lock clicked back I opened the lid slowly, almost reverently. I suspected that the chest held the fabric of my mother’s life. I kneeled on the floor, surveying the contents which lay before me, still laid neatly in order despite the moves the chest had been through.

On the top lay a long yellowing envelope. I took it in my hands and stared down at it. The words
Marriage
Certificate
were written on the front in my mother’s neat, bold handwriting. I sat on the armchair by the window and took the certificate slowly out of the envelope. Unfolding it, I could see my mother’s name, Felicity Ann Pendenna, and my Father’s, John Merriock. It was the date that jumped up at me

November, 14, 1852. I worked it out quickly in my head and realised my mother had been four months pregnant with me when they had married.