A Cornish Girl Read online

  Tara saw the twinkling light in his eyes and the dark pink highlighting his flat cheeks. He appeared younger and boyishly energized, which she had not witnessed in him before. ‘I’m amazed, Michael. If you’ve fallen in love then of course I am pleased for you.’ And she was envious of him. If this happiness was the result of being in love and being loved in return she was unlikely to ever know what it was like. ‘But when and where did you meet this lady? You don’t keep me informed of your whereabouts any more and I’m totally unaware of you travelling abroad.’

  ‘A month ago I went to a literary evening at Tehidy. The Bassetts were entertaining Sir Henry Welcomming, a talented historian. I thought it would prove interesting. Adeline and her parents were there. They are a somewhat serious and a bookish family and we all struck up a pleasing conversation. At the end of the evening Mr Phillipps invited me to dine at his house. Adeline is not a particular beauty but she is witty and intelligent. It proved to be sheer pleasure to learn we have a lot in common. She is helping her father to form an account of their family history. I would like to invite her to Poltraze to see my works in the library. Joshua is not here for me to ask his permission but he has been in good spirits lately so I am sure he would not object. How would you feel, Tara, in view of our past association, if Adeline was to come here?’

  ‘It is thoughtful of you to ask me, Michael. I would not mind at all. I’m sure Miss Phillipps is delightful.’

  ‘Thank you. I didn’t want to take it for granted. I must say, it’s a very poor show for Joshua not to be here. I hope he won’t be leaving it to you to hand out the servants’ presents alone.’

  ‘The despicable Laketon Kivell must be keeping him away. I wish there was a way of getting rid of that man. Anyway, Rosa Grace and I will be staying at Truro ourselves in the New Year. So our girls will have the opportunity to play together.’ Hopefully Sarah would be going with them. She prayed Sarah would accept her proposal. She felt she could easily go mad with loneliness. If Miss Adeline Phillipps was as quiet and pursued her history records as passionately as Michael, she was hardly the material to make a diverting friend.

  After the goose and plum pudding had been eaten, Tara took Rosa Grace up to the drawing room. Rosa Grace was enraptured with the fir tree which stood in a decorated tub and was as high as the picture rail. Tiny baskets of sweetmeats, gilt gingerbread, pomanders, paper roses, papiermâché robins and baubles hung from red ribbon on the lavish boughs. Small toys were propped on or hung from the boughs. Fawcett had just lit the taper candles. ‘The tree in the hall is the biggest but I like this one best,’ Rosa Grace said in an awestruck whisper.

  ‘It’s time for you to choose something from the tree, darling.’ Tara smiled down on her, sad that there were only the two of them for this.

  ‘Shouldn’t we wait for Papa? Why didn’t he have dinner with us?’ Rosa Grace was a little less bouncy than usual.

  ‘I don’t know, but it must be something really important for him to have been detained. I’m sure he’ll arrive as soon as he can.’ Joshua had mentioned he was looking forward to Christmas. He had chosen the fir trees and the holly and ivy off the estate for the house himself. Of late he had taken a little interest in Rosa Grace. He had ordered a large doll’s house for her and had planned to have it brought in after dinner. Laketon Kivell had probably hurt him again. Tara had been expecting Joshua to have the jauntiness wiped out of him at any time, but why did it have to be today? It was the worst time to have her loneliness reinforced and her little girl’s dreams shattered.

  ‘I thought he was beginning to like me.’ Rosa Grace bowed her head and pulled in her lower lip.

  ‘Oh, darling.’ Tara knelt down to her daughter’s level. ‘Why do you say that? Papa does love you. I know he doesn’t spend a lot of time with you, but nor does Uncle Michael with Cecily and Jemima. Some fathers are like that. It doesn’t mean they don’t love their children. I know that Papa has a special present for you. Hopefully, he will be here soon to give it to you himself.’

  Rosa Grace seemed happy with Tara’s explanation and she roamed the tree. ‘Ooh, there is a little brown horse on red rockers. Can I have that, Mama, please?’

  Tara reached up for the gift, careful to avoid the taper flames. If Kivell really was keeping Joshua away then the man was being particularly malicious to do so on Christmas Day. It meant his hold on Joshua was getting out of hand. The man was a blight on Poltraze, he was dangerous. He must be ousted from the estate. She would tell Joshua if he didn’t eject his lover, she would not return from Truro with Rosa Grace. The trouble was that Joshua was powerless against Kivell, and Michael wasn’t up to the task. It seemed to Tara there was only one way to get rid of a dangerous Kivell and that was by another fearless Kivell. She had no influence over any of them so it seemed Laketon Kivell was invincible and getting ever more deadly.

  Joshua had slept heavily since the early hours. Laketon removed the glass that had contained a strong concoction of valerian and other herbs. Combined with the lashings of champagne he had encouraged down Joshua’s throat last night it would keep him out for hours yet.

  Dressed in elegance, groomed to perfection, misted in cologne, Laketon perched on the bed and leaned over Joshua and pressed a hard fingertip across his sweaty forehead. He would have a thundering headache when he finally woke up, he would feel violently sick and hardly be able to find his feet. The wild antics of a few hours ago would ensure his muscles would ache for days. ‘Thank you for last night, Joshua. It was one of our best times ever.’ Laketon’s tone turned from sarcastic to icy-cold and razor-sharp, ‘Although it took a lot of drink to get you up to par, but then I am not Aaron Hobbs.’

  Joshua’s face, flawless and glowing with health from all the recent pampering and acquired happiness, was now puffy and blotched. Laketon put his thumbs and fingers on the delicate skin under Joshua’s eyes and pinched and pinched along his cheekbones. ‘You really love him, don’t you? You adore Aaron Hobbs. I know all about the fabulous present you’ve bought him for today. The gold and diamond tiepin. How could you use the same jeweller where you buy gifts for me? I’m glad you love him so deeply, Joshua, that you think he’s all yours. It’s what I’ve been waiting for, because when I take him away from you it’s going to hurt you all the more.’

  Throwing back his head Laketon brought it forward and butted Joshua’s brow. There was an instant red mark; an ugly bruise would appear soon. The headache he’d have would be as bad as if cymbals were crashing next to his ears and a brutal hand was gripping his brain. He got up and with his eyes blazing like red coals he ripped the covers off Joshua. There were bruises all over his body. ‘You cheating bastard! You know what happens to those who cross me or get in my way. I caved in your beastly father’s head and I burned him and his grasping wife in their bed, and she was alive at the time. I poisoned Michael’s wife for threatening to blackmail us, and I drowned your mealy-mouthed elder brother Jeremy all those years ago for taunting me. I allow no one to treat me as if I’m dirt. I take what I want and I do what I want. I loved you once but not any more. But no one will ever take you away from me, Joshua, because I’m using you and I will do so for as long as it pleases me.’

  Picking up a jug of water he went to the fireplace and, careful not to cause blackened smoke to spoil his appearance, he poured the water over the embers. He would not be back for hours. Joshua would lie naked and freeze. At the door he looked back at the pathetic figure. ‘It’s the season for giving. I’m off to give your valet the present you’ve got him and one of my own. Happy Christmas, Joshua.’

  He slipped into the big house, slumbering now for the afternoon. He crept upstairs and into the master suite in the west wing. Much of it was rebuilt by himself in his carpentry days, and furnished in the neoclassical style, with Grecian friezes and sculptures; it was all slightly decadent. He had a good idea where Joshua had hidden the present and he wasn’t wrong. He took the brightly wrapped gift, tied with red and gold ribbon and finished with el
aborate bows, out of the drawer of a table displaying a glass Elgin vase. Joshua would have spent many blissful hours picturing how he would flourish his gift to Hobbs and how he would make love to him afterwards.

  He went through to the dressing room. As he’d expected, Aaron Hobbs was there waiting for his master, and with so many hours having passed since his expected arrival the youth was slouching in a chair, head down despondently.

  He jumped up. ‘At last! I—’ Hobbs’s excited beatific smile drained away and a blush flew up from his milk-white neck to the curls nestling on his brow. He had reached out with both arms and dropped them down smartly to his sides. ‘Sir, I am sorry. I thought you were Mr Nankervis.’

  ‘Do you know who I am?’ Laketon asked in a tone any master of a big house would use, but he had made it kindly.

  ‘I think so, sir. Is it Mr Laketon Kivell?’ Aaron felt his knees go weak and a chill shearing his backbone. It had happened, the one thing his master feared, they had been found out by his sadistic lover.

  ‘You are correct, Hobbs. Good afternoon to you.’ The youth trembled as Laketon kept him prisoner in a lengthy searching gaze. Laketon could almost hear his brain wondering feverishly what he was doing here. Hobbs would know he was Joshua’s lover and how he treated him. His expression on the youth was soft, interested and without a trace of threat. ‘I’m sorry you’ve been kept waiting. I’m afraid Mr Nankervis woke with a chill, and sadly, despite brave attempts to rise from his bed, will remain indisposed for the day, and tomorrow too, I should say. He was anxious that you received a little token gift from him for Christmas in appreciation for all you’ve done for him. He rates your services very highly. I offered to bring the gift along myself. He so wanted you to have it today. And so do I.’

  Aaron gulped, his Adam’s apple moved awkwardly up and down his throat. The dark red of his cheeks, the gleaming whites of his eyes showed his fear. ‘Th-that’s very thoughtful of you, sir. I’m sorry to hear about the master.’

  ‘Thank you. I’ll pass on your good wishes, shall I? He’ll be so disappointed not to have seen you today. Christmas this year will be quite ruined for him. Well, here you are, Hobbs.’ Laketon held out the small square box. ‘Open it. Joshua wants to know what you think.’

  Aaron stepped up to him, avoiding eye contact. Putting his hand out as if afraid he was about to reach into a snare and have it snapped off he took the gift then backed away as if the ground between them was on fire. ‘Please relay my thanks to Mr Nankervis, sir. It’s very kind of him.’ He had difficulty pulling off the ribbon and paper his hands were shaking so much. He stared at the black leather box as if it was something horrendous. It was an inappropriate and expensive gift to give to a servant. Laketon Kivell was a violently jealous man and this might send him into one of the rages Joshua had told him about.

  ‘Ah, it looks like jewellery,’ Laketon said in a chatty voice, coming up close to him. ‘Joshua gave me a beautiful timepiece. I wish I had brought it with me to show it to you. He’s so generous. He always gives his valets something of excellent value.’ Laketon had demanded his gift last night and had been secretly infuriated to receive some paltry silverware for his desk.

  Aaron had no choice, he lifted up the lid. The tiepin was exquisite. It would have been a dream of an experience to have opened this with Joshua looking on, to bask in his devotion. It was terrifying to be ordered to do so by this man. What would he do to him for bedding his long-time lover? ‘It’s … it’s …’

  ‘It’s what I told Joshua to get you, Aaron. Actually, we chose it together for you.’ Laketon beamed warm smiles at him.

  ‘You did?’ What was he to make of this?

  ‘I wanted you to have something beautiful. You’ve made Joshua very happy since you arrived. He’s a victim of depression, don’t you know. He can mope for days and days and see nothing ahead but dark clouds. I was in despair to know what to do to help him this time and then, the saints be praised, you turned up. I know how close you and Joshua have become.’

  Aaron dropped the box and pressed his back against a wardrobe. Joshua had said this man enjoyed baiting and playing out tortuous games followed by acts of cruelty. He screwed up his face and shut his eyes, terrified at what would come next.

  ‘Oh, my dear boy,’ Laketon exclaimed as if shocked and apologetic. He kept his distance. ‘I don’t mind. Joshua and I agreed from the beginning we would take other lovers as long as the other approved of the choice. We’ve found it’s helped to keep our love strong over the years and to never take each other for granted. I’ve been perfectly content to keep myself out of the picture while Joshua has been enjoying the first fruits of your union. Please don’t think I’m jealous or angry with you. I owe you a great debt of thanks. You’ve returned my dear Joshua to his best. He hasn’t been so happy for years. It was being forced to marry and having to behave as a husband that was bringing him down. I’m so grateful to you, Aaron. Actually, I’ve brought you a little Christmas present myself.’

  Aaron opened his eyes. Laketon Kivell had picked up the box and tiepin and was gazing straight at him, exuding gratitude and something unreadable. Rather than frighten Aaron it excited him. The big man had one eyebrow curved in a sensuous manner. He was taller, stronger and more handsome than Joshua, and rugged and masterful. The overt wickedness about him, something he could never successfully conceal, was powerfully appealing. Aaron was used to lovers who, although occasionally wild, were mainly gentle and considerate, demanding his love and adoration while lavishing it back upon him. It was a pain to have to keep telling his masters he loved them. One master had liked a reversal of positions with him acting as the valet while encouraging Aaron to give him orders. The man in the room had a beast in him and although that was scary it was electrifying also. ‘You have, sir?’

  ‘I don’t like talking in this room. It’s quite claustrophobic with all these wardrobes and clothes hanging about. We’ll go into the bedroom. Joshua wouldn’t mind. You lead the way.’

  Aaron obeyed, his stomach churning both with dread and an exhilarated tension. Laketon Kivell was going to do something to him, he knew it. Every nerve in his body was growing to a painful high pitch. His whole body was tingling. He could hardly bear it. Was this man about to take revenge on him for indulging his lover? Or … it would be so wonderful if …

  Laketon closed the door and came up behind Aaron until he was close enough to touch him. ‘Stop,’ he breathed huskily in the youth’s ear.

  Aaron stopped walking and heaved a jittery sigh. Hurt me in a pleasurable way. Let it be that, he pleaded silently. He’d welcome that. Joshua didn’t do anything of the kind. He felt Laketon’s arm come round the front of his body. He looked down at the man’s large hand. There was a jeweller’s box in it.

  ‘This is for you from me. Take a look, Aaron. I hope you like it.’

  ‘Oh, sir, it’s so kind of you!’ Aaron effervesced with delight. He had thought this was going to be a boring Christmas Day, now it was exactly the opposite. He lifted the box lid. Inside was a pair of diamond-set cufflinks. ‘I don’t know what to say. Thank you. Thank you so much.’

  Laketon put his other arm round the youth and held him by the waist. He was as slim and soft as an adolescent. He stroked his golden curls.

  ‘Oh, sir,’ Aaron murmured.

  ‘I think you and I will get on very well, don’t you, Aaron?’

  ‘Oh, yes, sir.’

  ‘Turn round to me.’

  Aaron complied eagerly.

  ‘I think we enjoy the same things.’

  ‘I’m sure we do, sir.’

  ‘You know what to do,’ Laketon said in a voice that ordered Aaron to get on with it.

  Reaching to pose at a bedpost, Aaron purred, ‘I’m entirely at your service, sir.’

  Thirteen

  Sarah arrived at Poltraze in a small Kivell carriage, made in the community’s workshops and a rather plush affair. She was wearing a mantlet over a two-piece dress, a bonnet, gloves and shoes,
all bought with her own money. A footman appeared in a flash and opened the carriage door and had an umbrella ready to shelter her from the miserable steady rain. The butler was waiting for her in a reverent manner up under the portico. She had never thought to be given a reception like this. There seemed to be hundreds of windows in the house and tiny rivulets of rain were running down what seemed to be a thousand small windowpanes. Morn O’ May had seemed huge to her the first time she’d gone there, but this house was vast. Until now, because of rumours, she’d thought the house only a grey bleak creepy place, but used to things so basic and having no sense of what might be considered ill-designed she saw it as grand. She was sure there would be many things inside and outside to amaze her.

  Determined not to let herself down in front of the servants – it was well known that some servants behaved more high and mighty than their masters or mistresses – she would take a long interested look at everything as the days passed. She didn’t want the servants to think she had never seen anything splendid in her life before. Amy had come here once with her mother to take part in Tara’s very first charity committee and they had never returned, finding the genteel ladies condescending and the stateliness of the house daunting. Sarah would not allow anyone or anything to make her feel unworthy. In contrast to the grandeur a definite gloom hung about the place. The January rain had turned the stone of the walls, the lofty pillars and balustrades a murky grey. Much of the ground was recently replanted with small shrubs but there was some colour from berries and winter blooms. She frowned at the whole aspect. It was unfair that one small family should live in a house with so many, many rooms while large working families had to cram themselves into tiny cramped dwellings.

  She was careful mounting the curved stone steps, still sore throughout her body from the attack. The footman ensured no more than a few drops of rain landed on her. This treatment would have been unwelcome and alien to her once, but she had allowed the Kivells, Jowan and Tempest, in particular, and Rachel, a laughing, eye-catching girl, as free-spirited as any Kivell male, to dole out every consideration on her during her recovery. Isolation was no longer her goal. She did not really have one. Life had taken so many unexpected turns she saw no point in making plans. She would just let things happen, while staying careful not to bring trouble to herself or her friends. Fate had taken this next uncharacteristic twist, she was coming to live in the big house of Meryen, and not up in the attics as a servant. Tara said she was to think of herself as a long-term guest, and to feel free to go out as often as she wanted and receive her own visitors. Tempest had urged her not to become a stranger at Burnt Oak, and Jowan had done the same concerning Chy-Henver. She had promised not to cut herself off from them. It would be good to see Kit again also. But that might not happen for some time; she was to travel with Tara to Truro in a few days for an undetermined stay. It would be quite an experience to live in the foremost town of the county gentry.