The Gossamer Cord (27 page)

Nanny Crabtree held him and was watchful of any who came too near.

Dorabella sat in her chair, looking completely restored to normal. Dermot stood beside her, the proud father; Matilda, with Gordon, smiled happily on us all; and my mother and I sat close to Dorabella.

The old man lifted his glass.

“Welcome to Tristan,” he said. “Our grateful thanks to his parents for giving us this blessing.”

We all drank to that.

Dermot said how happy he and Dorabella were by this exciting event.

“Well,” said James Tregarland, his eyes glistening with that look which I had seen many times. “This is a great occasion. The succession is secure.” He was smiling at Matilda. “Don’t you agree, Matty?”

Matilda replied with something like faint embarrassment: “Yes, indeed it is.”

The old man’s chin wagged slightly, as I had seen it do before, and I think he implied some secret amusement. What was amusing him now seemed to concern Matilda. Was it some joke they shared?

Matilda, however, was smiling serenely.

“I am so glad,” she said, “that it is all over. It has necessarily been a worrying time.”

“And you and Gordon have been as anxious as the rest of us,” said the old man. “And now all is well. It’s a great weight off our minds. We have our little one.”

He was still smiling at Matilda.

“Yes,” she said. “Dear little Tristan. It will be wonderful to have a child in the house.”

The baby suddenly opened his mouth wide and yawned, which made everyone laugh.

“He seems a little bored with the proceedings,” said the old man with a grin.

“He wants his rest,” put in Nanny Crabtree. “I’ll be getting him down.”

She left us, taking Tristan with her.

When she had gone, the old man said: “She’ll make sure he’s all right, that one.”

“She can be a little officious at times,” said Matilda. “But I am sure she will be a wonderful nurse.”

“She certainly is,” said my mother. “That is why I was determined to get her. She looked after my girls and you couldn’t have a better watchdog.”

“Watchdog,” cried the old man. “You think there is going to be an attack on the youngster, do you?”

“I meant a watchdog against the hazards of childhood,” explained my mother. “She’ll see that he has the best care and is not allowed to take risks. She regards him as hers.”

“That’s what he needs,” said the old man, smiling to himself.

I thought he was very odd, and wondered whether he was slightly deranged. He seemed to be greatly amused by some secret joke.

A few days later my mother said she must go back. She had decided, after consultation with Nanny Crabtree, that the baby would be too young to travel at Christmas so we should spend the festive season at Tregarland’s.

Mary Grace was to visit us here shortly. Dorabella was very eager to sit for her portrait and grew really upset when I talked about returning when Mary Grace did; and finally I agreed that I might as well stay until after Christmas.

My mother left and Mary Grace arrived.

She and Dorabella liked each other immediately and Mary Grace started on the picture.

She was welcomed by the family. The old man came down to dinner and was clearly interested in her. She sat next to Gordon at dinner and she and he seemed to get on well together. They had all seen the miniature I had given Dorabella for her birthday and were impressed by Mary Grace’s work.

Surprisingly Gordon knew a little about art and they had something to talk about; Mary Grace blossomed and seemed to be a different person from the one I had first met.

I was contented. Life seemed to be running smoothly now. Dorabella’s fearful prognostications had proved to be without foundation; Mary Grace was much happier and I could not help feeling a mild self-congratulation on that score, since I had been the one to bring her talent to light. Doing good turns to others gives one such a glow of pleasure. Well, I was contented.

I had not seen Jowan Jermyn since I had come down. In the first days we had been too concerned about the birth to think of anything else; and afterwards there was so much to do with Mary Grace’s arrival. I had simply not had the opportunity of going off alone.

But now there were the sittings and that left me a certain amount of free time.

I did not feel I should go to the field in search of him, for it was hardly likely that he would be there. It was some little time since I had arrived in Cornwall and I had made no attempt to see him. I could not expect him to be there every day just on the chance that I might come.

What a ridiculous state of affairs this feud was! If he could have telephoned to Tregarland’s it would have been so different.

I would just take a ride. The country was always interesting; and at this time of the year there were no visitors, which gave it an added charm.

I rode inland, skirting the Jermyn estate, past woods and fields which were new to me. Every now and then I caught a glimpse of the coastline. It was beautiful on this day. There was a benign touch about the wind which came in from the sea. It was caressing.

I felt pleased with life. Dorabella was well. She had really frightened me with her talk of dreams and making me swear to look after the child who, she was sure, would be motherless.

That was Dorabella. Always looking for drama.

I loved Tristan already. When I went to the nursery Nanny Crabtree would allow me to hold him and he did not protest.

Nanny Crabtree said: “He likes his aunty Violetta, don’t you…little pet?”

He cast on her that inscrutable look which gave him the appearance of a sage. Then he turned his blue stare on me.

“I believe he’s smiling at me,” I said.

“Could be a touch of the wind,” said Nanny Crabtree, taking him from me.

He opened his mouth in protest and she handed him back. He settled in my arms and stared at me. That gesture endeared him more than ever to me. He was mine after that.

I was thinking of this as I rode along.

I was not far from the Jermyn estate when I met Jowan. He was riding a big black horse and saw me from a distance and came riding up.

“Hello!” he cried. “Why haven’t we met till now?”

“Because our paths have not crossed until this moment.”

He gave me a reproachful look.

“I was at the rendezvous.”

“Oh, I am sorry. We’ve had a busy time.”

“I know, of course. The news has come through. A boy. Tristan. A good old Cornish name.”

“That’s what my sister said, and she is keeping in the opera tradition at the same time.”

“Splendid. What about a drink at one of our inns?”

“I’d like to, but I haven’t time now. My sister will be expecting me back.”

He looked disappointed, which gave me a great deal of pleasure.

“I think,” he said, “that you and I should break this foolish habit!”

“You mean…?”

“If I cannot call on you, you must come to my place. Then we won’t have to meet as if by chance or a sort of haphazard arrangement. I am going to invite you to my home. Will you come?”

I hesitated.

“Oh, please. We are not going to allow ourselves to be governed by this silly story which has been going on all this time. We’ll break through it. We’ll scandalize the neighborhood. Come to my home. When shall it be?”

I said: “It would be something which we should undertake with some caution, perhaps.”

“Why? If we are going to kick through restrictions, shouldn’t we do it boldly?”

“I am only a guest here, you know. It is hardly for me to blaze a trail.”

“Do you mean you won’t come?”

“Suppose I came for tea? I could do that without having to make an announcement to the household. I do not understand Mr. Tregarland Senior. I think he might be amused. I am not sure of my sister’s husband, nor Mrs. Lewyth…who, I believe, takes a great pride in the family.”

“And your sister?”

“She would be in full agreement with you. She would think such a visit would be interesting and amusing.”

“Well then. Tomorrow afternoon. Three o’clock? Half past two?”

“Half past two,” I said. “My sister rests at that time. I shall tell her. Then she will not be worried if I don’t get back promptly. She does worry about things like that.”

“For instance at the time of the cliff rescue?”

“Yes, that was certainly one time.”

“How is she?”

“Very well, but she still gets a little tired.”

“And the baby?”

“He’s delightful.”

“And you’ve got your old nanny.”

“So you have already heard of her.”

“She seems to be a person of some standing. But she is not Cornish and that is a black mark against her.”

“I can assure you Nanny Crabtree is a match for any.”

“That is what I gathered.”

“You are so well informed.”

“The subject is of particular interest to me.”

I felt light-hearted, as always, with him.

His last words were: “Tomorrow. Two thirty. I shall wait your coming with pleasure.”

When I arrived back I went straight to Dorabella. She was lying on her bed and when she saw me she cried: “Where have you been? What’s happened? You look different.”

“What do you mean…different?”

“Something exciting has happened. I know what it is. You’ve seen that Jermyn man.”

“Well…”

She laughed. “You have…then?”

“Yes…”

“I always know. He must be fascinating. You ought to bring him here.”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I am going to visit him tomorrow.”

She was overcome with amusement.

“I can’t wait to hear the outcome.”

“Oh, it’s nothing much.”

“Nothing much! Right into the enemy’s camp. We won’t say anything about it here. You never know how they’d take it.”

I wondered if they would care. I had seen very little animosity to the Jermyns here and I knew Jowan felt none toward them. The feud was something which was kept going because the families were too indifferent to change it; it was the people around who liked to create a drama where it did not exist.

The next afternoon when I was setting out for the appointment, I encountered Seth in the stables.

“You be wanting Starlight, Miss?” he asked.

I told him I did. He looked at me strangely. I wondered if he had heard where I was going. He could not have done so yet. So far it was between Jowan and myself. It would be after I had visited his home that the gossip would start.

Seth was trying to say something. He stammered: “Don’t ’ee go there, Miss. Don’t ’ee go.”

I was amazed. I thought, Can he really know where I am going?

“ ’Ee don’t want to see ’er again, Miss. It might not be…”

“Go where, Seth?” I asked.

He pointed toward the sea.

“You mean the beach? No, no, I shan’t be going there. I wouldn’t dream of taking Starlight down to the beach.”

“There’s some of them take the horses there. They go along the beach at a gallop.”

“I don’t plan to do that.”

He gave me a sly smile. “Don’t want to tempt ’un, Miss.”

I really wasn’t sure who was to be tempted. I guessed it was the Jermyn ghost who he believed had lured the first Mrs. Tregarland into the sea.

Poor Seth. I was sorry for him. And it was kind of him to be concerned for me.

He patted Starlight’s flank lovingly, and I rode out of the stables.

It was another warmish day, ideal for riding. There was scarcely any wind and inland I could see a faint blue mist settling over the trees.

I turned my horse and rode toward the Jermyn estate. This time I should go straight to the house.

I rode along for about half a mile and there was the house. It was not as ancient as Tregarland’s but impressive. It was built in that silver gray stone which they call Elvan and with which I had become familiar since my arrival in Cornwall.

I went through a gate into a turfed forecourt and facing me was a heavy iron-studded door. I was wondering whether to dismount when the door opened and Jowan stood there.

“I was waiting for you,” he said. “Punctual as usual.”

He patted Starlight as he smiled at me. Then he held me to dismount.

“Charlie,” he shouted, and a man hurried out.

“Yes, sir.”

“Take the lady’s horse.”

He turned to me and took my arm.

“So this is your home,” I said.

“Yes. Do you like it?”

“From what I have seen, it is magnificent.”

“I like it,” he said. “I’m looking forward to showing it to you.”

I stood in the hall and looked around. It was not unlike all such halls. It had a plaster ceiling, the main ribs of which were set on corbels decorated with oak leaves. On one of the walls were the entwined initials J and S.

My eyes rested on it and he said: “Jowan and Sarah. They built the house three hundred years ago, and it was the custom to have such entwined initials. It could become embarrassing if the marriage didn’t work out and there was a second wife, and she had to spend her married life with the constant reminder of her predecessor. I can tell you that is not the only spot where you will find those initials.”

He pointed out the minstrels’ gallery.

“I plan to use that one day for its original purpose, out of respect for old customs. Some of them are worth preserving. Now let me show you the rest of the house and you can tell me what you think of it.”

“It is beautiful,” I said. “You must be proud of it.”

“It has not been long in my possession and I am still a trifle bemused by the fact. But come along. Here are the screens—they lead to the kitchen. That is a part I will leave to your imagination. The servants are there.” He grimaced. “It would make their deductions too easy if I introduced you to them. Let us leave them to their own speculations.”

“They are going to talk about my being here.”

“Let them. But you are not a Tregarland, so perhaps that will modify the betrayal of the past. Now, there are several rooms leading from the hall. This staircase goes to the library and beyond that is the drawing room. That is the old solar. It is the best room in the house. We shall have tea there. It is very light, with semicircular bay windows—of a much later period than the rest of the house. They were put in over a hundred years ago.”