Sally James (3 page)

Apparently relieved to avoid further conversation with him, Miss Brockton rose, took a candelabrum, and showed him into a large room lined with books. She settled herself in a chair, and invited him to inspect the books at his leisure. He glanced at the titles. They were an interesting collection. He pulled several down from the shelves and looked more closely at them, noting there was no name in any of them. In some the flyleaf had been torn out. In others a name had been scored over so heavily it was undecipherable.

After an hour he excused himself and retired to his room, but spent a restless night trying to puzzle out the meaning of this mystery he had stumbled on.

* * * *

He was not the only one to pass an uneasy night. When she had been dismissed from the dining parlour, Redruth had made her way to the kitchens and plied Anna and Bob with questions, asking whether Sir Denzil was an ordinary kind of man.

“He seemed so unusual, so much more handsome than the portraits I have seen in books, and so kind,” she explained as they glanced at one another.

“One of the quality, as you are, miss,” Bob said gruffly.

“But I am not the same as other people, am I?” she asked wistfully. “Have you heard of him before?”

“We don’t mix with folk, you know that very well, child,” Anna told her repressively.

“No, but Bob goes across to the village, and must hear talk there. Besides, you are both Cornish bred and you have only lived on the island as long as I have been here. You must know something of the people round about.”

“You know you ought not to be worrying your head with these questions,” Anna reproved.

“Oh, Anna! He is the first person I have ever met and I cannot help being curious.”

“Miss Brockton would not like it, if she knew you were asking us.”

“Miss Brockton! She sent me away on some excuse. The first time anything diverting happens, and she threatened to lock me into my room if I did not obey her, and leave the room immediately after dinner!”

“She does it for your own good, my lamb!” Anna said calmly. “Now you ought to go to your room, for if she finds you here she will be angry.”

“But Anna! I know nothing about him! You cannot expect me to go meekly to bed and forget he ever came here! Have you heard of him before?” she pleaded, and Bob shifted uneasily in his chair.

“He’s a landowner some miles further to the west,” he volunteered suddenly, then turned to Anna. “It cannot harm the lass to know that. But that’s all I know, mind,” he said swiftly, forestalling Redruth’s excited questions. “Just that he owns a big estate.”

“Is he married? Has he brothers or sisters? You must know more.”

“I do not. I believe he spends most of his time in London. The villagers have spoken of him only once or twice, but they say little.”

“Now, off to bed, child,” Anna intervened, and Redruth left them reluctantly, to go to her room but not to bed. Removing her gown she slipped on a wrap and sat in the broad window seat, looking out across the moonlit island with the ghostly shapes of trees and rocks that threw strange shadows across the turf.

There was a faraway look in her eyes, as she relived every moment since she had first seen Sir Denzil’s sleeping form on the beach. A tender smile curved her lips as she recalled his features: the dark, slightly curling hair so dishevelled after his immersion in the sea, and so neatly arranged at dinner; the broad forehead which had creased with pain when he had forgotten to be careful of his injured shoulder; the brown eyes that looked so directly into hers with an expression she could not fathom; the straight nose and square chin and firmly moulded lips. He was so very different from Bob, the only other man she had ever met.

“He is so handsome,” she whispered to herself, picturing his broad shoulders, narrow hips, and long well-shaped legs.

She sighed. She was unlikely ever to see him again. Miss Brockton would take care to contrive that, she was sure.

A strange restlessness filled her. Always she had regretted her confinement on this island, when from all she read the world seemed such a delightful place, but after today she knew she would find her isolation more irksome than ever.

She began to think of his comments that she was not mad. She had not thought much of them at the time, for from her earliest recollections this was how she had always been described, and she had never questioned it. But he, a stranger, who must have mixed always with ordinary people, assured her she was no different from them. Could he, she wondered with a faint glimmer of hope arising within her, possibly be right?

Then the hope died, as she realised that whatever Denzil thought, he would not be able to alter Miss Brockton’s opinion, and without that there could be no hope of her ever leaving the island. Besides, she reminded herself gloomily, why should he take any trouble on her behalf? He would regard this as an adventure, soon to be forgotten. In a few weeks he would probably have forgotten her completely, a reflection she found exceedingly discomforting.

Her musings were interrupted by Miss Brockton entering the room, and that lady exclaimed in annoyance to see her charge was not yet in bed.

“Redruth! How can you be so bird-witted as to sit there in the night air! You will take a chill.”

“Is Sir Denzil leaving in the morning?” Redruth asked, ignoring her complaints.

“Indeed he is. A great pity we could not have sent him away tonight. His coming has, I fear, discomposed you. I trust there will be no permanent ill-effects.”

“I am perfectly composed.”

“You cannot be, or you would not be behaving in this manner now. You have never before done such a thing. Into bed with you at once!”

Silently, knowing the futility of argument, Redruth obeyed, and Miss Brockton stayed, commenting acidly that if her charge discovered any more human driftwood on the beach, she should leave it there and inform Bob, who would be the best person to deal with it.

Redruth giggled at that. “Sir Denzil would not be flattered to be described as driftwood,” she remarked, and her stern governess permitted herself to smile slightly.

“Indeed he appears to have far too exalted an opinion of himself,” she conceded. “Good night, my dear. Sleep well.”

With a not unkindly look, she drew the curtains round the bed and blew out the candle before leaving the girl, but it was a long time before Redruth fell asleep.

* * * *

When Denzil was dressed early the next morning, in his own clothes which had been dried and neatly mended by Anna and placed in his room before he retired, he determined to explore the island before breakfast, suspecting he would be firmly escorted off it immediately afterwards. To his astonishment he found his door was locked. He stared at it, fury rising in him, and then his sense of humour overcame him. Had the stern guardian imagined he would attempt to seduce her charge? He laughed, then began to bang on the door and shout for Bob. Within a couple of minutes Anna appeared, evincing not the slightest embarrassment, nor appearing to think there was anything unusual in the fact that his bedroom door had been locked on a guest, and informed him breakfast was ready.

In the small parlour where this was served Miss Brockton was alone, and she greeted him unsmilingly. Denzil glanced swiftly round and noticed the table was set for two only.

“I trust Miss Redruth is not indisposed after her experiences yesterday?” he asked, a sudden fear in his mind that she might after all be as her keepers suggested.

“No, thank you. Surprisingly she has taken it with admirable calm. But it is her custom to rise early and she is looking to the animals. They are her especial responsibility. We keep a few hens and a goat,” she explained.

They ate, finding it exceedingly difficult to make casual conversation, and when they had finished she informed him Bob was waiting to row him across to the mainland.

“If you then strike due south, you will almost immediately come to the road that leads to Bodmin. That is the best way for you, for there is an inn where you may hire a horse a few miles along the road.”

She stood up, and he thanked her formally for her hospitality. “Now I would like to see Miss Redruth and express my gratitude to her for her help,” he said, in the accents of one accustomed to have his every wish considered.

Miss Brockton was not to be swayed. “I fear not, Sir Denzil. I think it wiser she does not see you again. She has so far shown few effects of her disturbing experiences, apart from a slight nervousness, but if she were to see you again I fear it would harm her. I will convey your message when I consider the time appropriate so as not to disturb her.”

“I had hoped to thank her myself for having rescued me,” he persevered, smiling with a look few women could resist. Miss Brockton was one of the few.

“It is impossible. You would not, I am sure, wish to be the cause of her losing what little balance she has. Goodbye. I trust you will soon forget this unhappy girl, for whom nothing more can be done than her guardians do already, whatever you might imply to the contrary.”

Without giving him further opportunity to reply, she led the way briskly to where Bob was waiting. Denzil made his farewells, knowing he could do nothing more then, but resolving to return to the island to discover more about this intriguing situation. Bob took him to a beach facing the mainland, where there was a small jetty to which a rowing boat was tied. He had looked round eagerly to see whether the girl was visible as they had walked down to the beach, but there was no sign of her.

Bob walked out along the jetty, and then uttered an oath.

“The oars must be in the cave,” he explained, indicating a large opening in the cliff nearby. “I could have sworn I left them in the boat last time I used her.”

Grumbling, he went off to fetch them, and Denzil heard a giggle behind him.

Swiftly he turned, and Redruth slipped from behind a nearby rock and approached him.

“I hid them, for I had to see you again,” she explained.

She was again attired in her tunic, and he thought abstractedly how well it became her as he moved to meet her and lifted the hand she extended to his lips.

Before he could speak she rushed into speech again.

“I did so want to say thank you, and I knew she would not permit me to speak with you again. I had such a scold for talking with you. She said I should have left you on the beach and fetched Bob.”

Denzil raised his eyebrows. “I am enchanted you did not! But why should you thank me? I must express my gratitude to you for what you did.”

“No, I do not mean thanks exactly, for – well, you did not know you were being kind! I am just so grateful that at last I have had an opportunity of meeting someone from outside.”

The words struck him hard, and the indignation he felt on her behalf rose, almost choking him. “Do you really never see anyone else?” he demanded.

She shook her head. “No, and I most probably never will, unless something like this happens again. But I would so like to! Miss Brockton says I will never be well enough to leave the island though. But I have not got worse, have I? I am not tearing out my hair or anything remotely like that, as she says I will if I do not remain in strict seclusion. I wish she would allow me to attempt it. Merely a visit to the village would suffice to test it.”

“You are not mad!” he burst out, unable to restrain himself any longer. “No more than I, and I’ll hazard a great deal less than those who keep you here!”

She stared up at him, her blue eyes wide, the suppressed hope of the previous night renewed.

“But they must be right. How can you tell?”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bob emerge from the cave.

“I must see you again. Will you be able to come to the beach with the stream tomorrow morning?” he asked quickly.

She caught her breath in surprise, but was quick to react.

“Yes!” she answered softly. Her lips trembled, but her eyes were shining. “Oh, yes, and thank you. Goodbye.”

“You should not be here, Miss Redruth,” Bob chided as he came up to them. “Miss Brockton would be angry if she knew.”

“But you will not tell her, will you, Bob dear? I but came to bid our guest farewell!” she wheedled, and the old man’s face creased into a fond smile.

“Get away with you, with your blandishing ways!”

He stepped into the boat and Denzil followed, then they were rowing away from the island while Redruth stood and waved. It was only a few hundred yards to the nearest beach on the mainland, and Bob pulled strongly on the oars. He beached the boat in shallow water, and apologised to Denzil that he would have to wade ashore.

“No matter. But surely you do not get your supplies this way?” Denzil asked curiously, looking round the deserted beach.

“No!” was all the answer Bob vouchsafed. “There is a path over there, and you will come to the lane about a mile inland. Goodbye, Sir.”

He turned and pushed out the boat, and Denzil watched as he set off again for the island. More and more he was determined to probe this mystery.

Chapter Three

Thoughtfully he set off to climb the cliffs by the path indicated. There must be a village and a harbour nearby, he was thinking. At the top of the cliffs the land was bare and rugged, a few mine workings visible in the distance. Then, to his right, Denzil saw the bright reds and golds of autumn foliage just peeping over the slight rise in the ground. He suspected there was a valley, almost certainly a river, and probably a small village with a harbour nestling in the shelter of the bay.

He walked inland until he was well out of sight of anyone on the island, and then turned towards the trees. His surmise had been correct, and he eventually came upon a village of perhaps half a hundred cottages, clustered about a small harbour where several fishing boats were moored. To one side, conveniently situated for the fishermen to quench their thirst promptly, was an inn, slightly larger than the cottages, but built in the same style with the same grey stone flints.

The villagers eyed him curiously as he approached the inn, but the landlord welcomed him and brought him a passable ale. Denzil guessed there was finer drink stored in the cellars which had not paid duty, but he was content with the ale.