Bride of Pendorric (11 page)

Read Bride of Pendorric Online

Authors: Victoria Holt

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense, #General, #Gothic, #Cornwall (England : County), #Married People, #Romantic Suspense Fiction

BOOK: Bride of Pendorric
5.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Did I see you when I was in the quadrangle?” I could not prevent myself asking, for foolish as it was, I had to satisfy myself on this point.

” Yes. I had only just arrived. I hadn’t told Morwenna or Roe that I was coming to-day. I peeped out and saw you and Hyson. I didn’t know you’d seen me or I should have opened the window and spoken to you.”

” Hyson waved and I looked up and saw you. I was astonished when she said you were her granny.”

” And didn’t she explain? Oh Hyson, my dear child!” She went on caressing the ponytail.

” I told her it was my granny, and it was,” Hyson defended herself.

“You’re eating very little,” Morwenna scolded Deborah and me. ” Do try these splits. Maria will be hurt if we send too many back.”

” I

always say this Cornish cream isn’t as good as ours in Devonshire,” said Deborah.

Morwenna laughed.

“That’s sheer prejudice. It’s exactly the same.”

Deborah asked me about my life in Capri and how Roe and I had met.

“How delightful!” she cried when I had answered her questions. ” A lightning romance! I think it’s charming, don’t you, Morwenna?”

” We’re all very pleased, of course … particularly now that we know Favel.”

” And we were longing for the new Bride of Pendorric,” said Hyson quietly.

Everyone laughed and conversation was general while we finished tea.

When the meal was over, Hyson asked if she could help her granny unpack. Deborah was very pleased and said of course she could. She added: ” And I don’t suppose Favel has seen my rooms, has she? Well invite her to come with us, shall we. Hyson?”

I thought Hyson rather grudgingly agreed, but I accepted quickly because I was anxious to know more of this new member of the household.

 

The three of us went off togeiflher and soon were in the west corrickr passing that very window at which Deborah had appeared and so startled me.

She opened the door of a room which had windows very like those in Roe’s and my bedroom and which gave a superb view of the coastline stretching out towards the west and Land’s End. My eyes went immediately to the bed—a fourposter like ours—because on the rose-coloured counterpane lay the black hat with the blue band. It was not really like the one in the picture but the colouring was similar.

I felt rather foolish as well as relieved, because it was comforting to solve the mystery of the apparition so quickly, but at the same time it was disconcerting to remember how shaken I had been at the sight of it. i I saw then that a part of one of the walls was covered with photographs of all sizes and types, some being studio portraits, others snapshots.

Deborah laughed and followed my gaze. ” I have always hoarded pictures of the family. It’s the same in Devonshire, isn’t it. Hyson?”

” Yes, but they’re all pictures of you before … these are after.”

“Yes, of course. Time seems rather divided like that-before Barby*s marriage … and after.”

” Barbarina,” I murmured involuntarily.

“Yes, Barbarina. She was Barby to me, and I was Deb. No one else ever called us by those versions of our names. Barbarina was the name of an ancestress of ours. It’s unusual, isn’t it? Until Barbarina’s marriage she and I were always together.” The blue eyes clouded momentarily and I guessed that there had been great devotion between the sisters. ” Oh well,” she went on, ” it’s all so long ago. Some times I find it hard to believe that she is dead … and in her grave….”

” But…” began Hyson.

Deborah laid her hand on the child’s head and went on: ” When she … died, I came to live here and I brought up Petroc and Morwenna. I tried to take her place, but can anyone take the place of a mother?”

” They’re very fond of you, I’m sure.”

” I think they are. Do let me show you the photographs. I think some of them are very charming. You’ll want to see your husband in the various stages of his development, I

expect. It’s always rather fun, don’t you think, to see people as they were years and years ago. “

I smiled at the mischievous-eyed boy in the open shirt and cricket flannels; and the picture of him standing side by side with Morwenna—Morwenna smiling coyly at the camera. Roe scowling at it.

There was a picture of them as babies; they lay side by side and a beautiful woman was bending over them.

” Barbarina and her twins,” murmured Deborah.

” How beautiful she is 1” “Yes.” There was a note of infinite sadness in her voice. So she still mourns her sister, I thought; and there came into my mind the memory of the family vault with the laurel hanging on the spike. I guessed who had put that there.

T turned my attention to a picture of a man and a woman; I had no difficulty in recognising Barbarina, and the man who was with her was so like Roe that I guessed he was Barbarina’s husband. There it was, the almost challenging smile, the face of a man who knew how to get the best out of life, the reckless gambler, the indefinable charm. I noticed that the ears of the man in the picture were Roe’s ears, that the eyes were slightly tilted at the corners. It was a handsome face, made even more attractive by that streak of mischief . wickedness . or whatever it was that I had sensed in Roe. ” Roe’s parents,” I said.

” Taken a year before the tragedy,” Deborah told me. ” It is very sad. He looks so fond of her. He must have been heartbroken.”

Deborah smiled grimly, but she did not speak.

“Aren’t you going to show Favel the albums?” Hyson asked. ” Not now, dear. I’ve my settling in to do, and stories of the past can be a little boring, I’m afraid, to those who haven’t lived them.”

” I’m certainly not bored. I’m very eager to learn all I can about the family.”

“Of course … now that you are 0-13 Oi. us. And I shall enjoy showing you the albums at anoth, time.”

It was a kind of dismissal, and I said I too had things to do and would see her later. She came towards me and, taking my hands, smiled at me affectionately.

” I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you are here,” she told me earnestly; and there could be no doubting her sincerity.

“Everyone has been so charming to me at Pendorric,” I told her. ” No bride could have been more enthusiastically welcomed, and considering how sudden our marriage had been and that my coming must have been rather a shock to the family, I’m very grateful to everybody.”

” Of course we welcome you, my dear.”

Hyson said earnestly: ” We’ve been waiting for her for years … haven’t we. Granny?”

Deborah laughed, and gently pulled Hyson’s ear.

“You take in everything, child,” she said. And to me: ” We’re delighted that Roe’s married. The Pendorrics usually marry young.”

The door opened and a little woman came into the room. She was dressed in black, which was not becoming to her sallow skin; her hair was what is known as iron grey and must have been almost black once; her dark bushy brows met over small worried eyes; she had a long thin nose and thin lips.

She was about to speak, but seeing me hesitated. Deborah said: ” This is my dear Carrie, who was our nurse and has never left me. Now she looks after me … completely, and I just don’t know what I should do without her. Carrie, this is the new Mrs. Pendorric.” The worried-looking eyes were fixed on me. ” Oh,” she murmured, ” the new Mrs. Pendorric, eh.”

Deborah smiled at me.

“You’ll get to know Carrie very quickly. She’ll do anything for you, I’m sure. She’s a wonder with her needle. She makes most of my things as she always did.”

” I made for the two of them,” said Carrie with pride. ” And I used to say there was no one better dressed in the whole of Devonshire than Miss Barbarina and Miss Deborah.”

I noticed then the slight burr in her speech and the tenderness in her voice when she spoke of those two.

“Carrie, there’s some unpacking to do.”

Carrie’s expression changed and she looked almost disgruntled.

“Carrie hates leaving her beloved moorl” said Deborah with a laugh. ” It takes her quite a time to settle down on this side of the Tamar.”

” I wish we’d never crossed the Tamar,” Carrie muttered. Deborah smiled at me and, putting her arm through mine, walked into the corridor with me.

” We have to humour Carrie,” she whispered. ” She’s a privileged servant. She’s getting on now and her mind wanders a little.” She withdrew her arm. ” It’ll be fun showing you the pictures some time, Favel,” she went on. ” I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you’re here.”

I left her, feeling grateful for several reasons; not only was she affectionate and eager to be friends, but she had made me feel myself again now I was sure that it was a person of living flesh and blood who had looked down on me from the window.

The mail at Pendorric was brought up to our bedrooms with eariymoming tea; and it was a few days later when Roe, looking through his, came to a letter which made him laugh aloud.

” It’s come,” he called to me in the bathroom, ” I knew it would.”

“What?” I asked, coming out wrapped in a bath towel. ” Lord Polhorgan requests the pleasure of Mr. and Mrs. Pendorric’s company on Wednesday at three-thirty.”

“Wednesday. That’s tomorrow. Are we going?”

” Of course. I’m so eager for you to see the Folly.” I thought very little more about Lord Polhorgan’s invitation because I was far more interested in Pendorric; and I could not feel the almost malicious delight the family seemed to take in deriding the Folly and its master. As I said to Roe, if the man from Manchester, Leeds or Birmingham wanted to build a house on the cliffs, why shouldn’t he?

And if he wanted it to look like a medieval castle, again why shouldn’t he? The Pendorrics had apparently been glad to sell him the land. It was not for them to tell him how he must use it. As Roe and I set out that Wednesday afternoon he seemed to be enjoying some secret joke.

” I can’t wait to see what you think of the set-up,” he told me. To my unpractised eye the house looked as old as Pendorric.

” Do you know,” I said to Roe, as we approached the stone unicorns which did the same service as our battered lions, ” I shouldn’t know that this wasn’t a genuine antique if you hadn’t told me.”

” Ah, you wait till you’ve had a chance to examine it.” We pulled the bell in the great portico and heard it clanging through the hall.

A dignified manservant opened the door and, bowing his head, said solemnly: ” Good afternoon, sir. Good afternoon, madam. His lordship is waiting for you, so I’ll take you up immediately.” It took quite a long time to reach the room where our host was waiting for us; and I noticed that although the furniture was antique the carpets and curtains were expensively modern.

We were finally led to a large room with windows overlooking the beautifully laid-out cliff garden which ran down to the sea; and resting on a chaise-longue was the old man.

” My lord,” the manservant announced, ” Mr. and Mrs. Pendorric.”

” Ah! Bring them in, Dawson. Bring them in.”

He turned his head, and the intentness of those grey eyes was rather disturbing, particularly as they were directed towards me. ” Good of you to come,” he said rather brusquely, as though he didn’t mean this. “You’ll have to forgive my not rising.”

“Please don’t,” I said quickly, and I went to his chaise-longue and took his hand.

He had a high colour with a faint purplish tinge, and I noticed how the veins stood out on his long thin hands.

” Sit down, Mrs. Pendorric,” he said, still in the same brusque manner. ” Give your wife a chair, Pendorric. And put it near me … that’s right, facing the light.”

I had to suppress a slight resentment that I was being put under a shrewd scrutiny, and I experienced a certain nervousness which I hadn’t expected I should.

“Tell me, how do you like Cornwall, Mrs. Pendorric?” He spoke sharply, jerkily, as though he were barking orders on a barrack square ‘| ” I’m enchanted,” I said.

” And it compares favourably with that island place of ‘yours?”

” Oh yes.”

” All I see of it now is this view.” He nodded towards the window. ” I can’t imagine you’d find a more beautiful one anywhere.” He looked from me to Roe; and I was aware that my husband’s expression had become rather sardonic. He didn’t like the old roan, that much was clear; and I felt annoyed with him because I was afraid he made it obvious.

Our host was frowning towards the door. ” Late with tea,” he said. He must give his servants a difficult time, I thought, for even if he had asked for tea to be served immediately we arrived it was not very late; we had not been in the room more than three or four minutes.

Then me door opened and a tea wagon was wheeled in. It was overladen with cakes of all descriptions besides bread and butter and splits with bowls of clotted cream and jam.

“Ah,” Lord Polhorgan grunted, “at last! Where’s Nurse Grey?”

” Here I am.” A woman came into the room. She was so beautiful that for a moment I was startled. The blue in her striped dress matched her eyes, her starched apron was snowy white, and her cap, set almost jauntily on her masses of golden hair, called attention to its beauty.

I had never seen a nurse’s uniform worn so becomingly; then I realised that this woman would look dazzling whatever she wore, simply because she was so very beautiful.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Pendorric,” she said.

Roe had risen to his feet as she entered and I could not see his face as he looked at her. He said: “Good afternoon, Nurse.” Then he turned.

” Favel, this is Nurse Grey, who looks after Lord Polhorgan.”

“I’m so glad to meet you.” She had a wide’ mouth and perfectly shaped teeth.

“What about giving Mrs. Pendorric some tea?” growled Lord Polhorgan.

” Of course,” said Nurse Grey. ” It’s all here, I see. Now, Mrs.

Pendorric, you’d like to sit near Lord Polhorgan. I’ll put this little table here for you. “

I thanked her and she went to the tea wagon and began to pour out while Roe brought over a plate of splits and cream and jam which he set on the table.

” I don’t need a nurse all the time,” Lord Polhorgan told me. ” But I may need one at any moment. That’s why she’s here. Quite an efficient woman.”

Other books

Revolutionary Hearts by Pema Donyo
Gravestone by Travis Thrasher
The Counting-Downers by A. J. Compton
Voyager: Travel Writings by Russell Banks
Gluttony: A Dictionary for the Indulgent by Adams Media Corporation
A Fashionable Murder by Valerie Wolzien
Sunscream by Don Pendleton
Into The Fire (The Ending Series) by Fairleigh, Lindsey, Pogue, Lindsey
Glass by Williams, Suzanne D.