Pengelly's Daughter Page 6

  ‘If he expected losses, why’d he not put enough by to cover them?’ Jim’s tone seemed suddenly dismissive – as if he thought Father foolish.

  ‘Of course he’d have liked to! But it’s not like that. Boat-building’s political – it’s about power and bribery. It’s about greed and election promises. Contracts are awarded through political favour as opposed to any merit. You only mend or build if the Corporation lets you. You can only use Corporation-approved businesses and every member takes a cut – everything’s controlled and if you challenge the system you’re nished.’

  ‘Surely contracts came his way?’

  ‘Father would grovel to no-one, so he made many enemies. That’s why he agreed to build the cutter – because his men needed work. He knew building a fast ship for the Revenue would make him unpopular with the Corporation. Their income from smuggling would be at risk, but Father wasn’t put off. He took the contract to keep the yard going. He was determined to stamp out the ever increasing corruption of the Corporation…and the greed of the two big estates.’

  ‘Then your father was a political man – a Radical?’ Jim’s voice sounded suddenly cold.

  ‘Only those steeped in corruption would call him radical – others would call him a free thinker, a man of the future.’ I pushed aside my blanket and knelt on the oor, gathering up the letters, pulling the cloth into a bundle.

  ‘Others? There are others like him in Fosse?’

  ‘In Fosse? Maybe not, but he belonged to a Corresponding Society. They believe all men are born free and have a right to live without oppression and enslavement.’

  Jim’s laugh was bitter. He knelt on the ground next to me, his strong hands tying the knot with ease. ‘No man’s free. Every man has his price – sounds like your father was a revolutionary – perhaps he’d have liked to see heads roll.’

  I stared at him in horror. ‘Father’d never sanction violence. He wanted democracy, that’s all – the right to choose who represented him in parliament – not have some spoilt aristocrat foisted on him.’

  A veil seemed to pass over Jim’s eyes, his mouth tightened. ‘It’s a dangerous world out there, Miss Pengelly, an’ thoughts like that lead to trouble – you’d do better distancing yourself from your father’s politics.’

  I was stunned. How could he? How dare he criticise me, or Father? ‘Who are you to give me advice?’ I retorted, my cheeks burning, ‘An educated man, wasting his life like you? Drinking in the worst sort of taverns? Who relies on his knife and breaks into houses? I hardly think I need your advice.’

  I was furious with him, but even more furious with myself. What had I been thinking? I had let him prise out my secrets. I had let down my guard and he had thrown it back in my face. Who was he anyway? And why was he now dressed as a townsman?

  ‘Why’ve you come to Fosse?’ I said angrily.

  He caught my glare. ‘I’m searching for someone.’

  ‘And what will you do when you nd him?’

  ‘That’s my business.’

  I stared at his stony face, the hate in his eyes, and suddenly felt fearful. I was a fool. I had said too much. He was a dangerous man and I could not afford to have him as my enemy. I tried to smile, soften my voice. ‘Thank you for helping me, I’m very grateful, but we’ll part and go our separate ways now – our paths need never cross again.’

  In the east, the grey haze was streaked with pink. Before long, dawn would break, the huer would soon return. The cockerels would soon be stretching out their long necks and shaking out their feathers, ready to herald the new day. I had to hurry. Picking up the heavy bundle, I lifted it carefully onto my shoulder.

  Jim was leaning against the door, his eyes following my every move. As I brushed past him, I caught his whisper. ‘We will meet again, Rose. Can’t you see it’s our destiny?’

  Jenna had not been fooled by the blanket in my bed – she had left the back door unlocked. I pushed it open, my relief so great I wanted to cry. I suddenly felt so scared. What I was holding in my hands was enough to hang me. No, it would hang us all, Mother and Jenna alongside me. I looked round, my fear mounting. They must not nd it – they must know nothing about it, or they would be implicated. I crept back into the yard. I would hide it in the henhouse; it would be safer out of the cottage and I would search for a safer place in the morning.

  The church clock was striking four as I tip-toed up the stairs, quarter past the hour, as I lay in bed. I felt sick with anxiety, more worried by Jim’s unpredictable attitude than the theft itself – one moment he had seemed trustworthy, the next hostile and dangerous. I had no way of knowing if I could trust him to keep silent. I shut my eyes, courting sleep.

  I was back in the boat, sea spraying my face. The wind was whipping the waves, the oars creaking as they dipped beneath the water. Jim was watching me, staring at me with that hungry look that had taken my breath away. Suddenly, I sat bolt upright.

  I had been so preoccupied with the way he had looked at me, I had not thought how he was rowing the river. Newcomers found the tide treacherous in a southerly wind, local people knew how to do it – local people used the rips and eddy of the fast-owing current to make the crossing safer. Jim had taken the exact course I would have taken. He rowed like a local. Like someone who had done it many times before. I remembered how quietly he had followed me to Coombe House. What an idiot I was.

  I jumped out of bed, running barefoot across the yard, throwing open the henhouse. I began rummaging through the hay, desperately searching for the old sack. I drew my hands backwards and forward, loud squawking disturbing the silence. All along, I knew my search would be futile. The sack was still there but, no matter how hard I searched, the evidence had disappeared.

  Chapter Nine

  Thursday 27th June 1793 11:00 a.m.

  Jenna pinned back the shutters, letting sunshine stream into the room. ‘Honest to God…what was ye thinking, waking us all up at four this morning? Mrs Pengelly nearly died of fright…I banged me head and the chickens still ain’t settled…! We never get foxes in the yard. Ye know that, I know that, yer mother knows that…and now everyone’s wondering what ye were up to…Drink this and don’t complain – I’m not having ye come down with a fever.’ She handed me a steaming cup of nettle brew and stood, arms crossed, staring at my tangled hair. I made a face at the pungent brew, waiting for the next scolding. ‘I was worried sick last night – worried sick and in two minds to tell Mrs Pengelly.’

  ‘Don’t tell her anything. Don’t ever tell anyone anything.’

  ‘Well how was I to know if ye was safe or not?’

  ‘I am safe. And I won’t be doing it again.’

  ‘Then I’ll take them clothes back.’

  I looked hurriedly round the room. There was no trace of my sodden clothes. Jenna had whisked them away before Mother could see them. ‘No, keep them – just in case.’

  ‘Then ye’ve not nished.’

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake, stop fussing! You do nothing but fuss. I’m ne; I’m safe and I’ll keep out of any more trouble. Satised?’

  I had to make do with a sniff and a cold shoulder, but I was not in the mood to be scolded. My head thumped, my mouth was dry, I ached all over and I was furious with myself for my lack of foresight. The fact that Jim had outwitted me so easily left me boiling with rage. ‘What’s the time?’ I asked grudgingly.

  ‘Just past eleven.’

  ‘Has Mother gone to Madame Merrick?’

  ‘Yes, but she’s that worried, says she’ll be home at twelve to see how ye are.’

  I could tell Jenna was more than usually upset and it was not fair of me to vent my anger on her. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said softly, ‘I’m very grateful you didn’t tell her and I’ve no right to snap. Are we friends?’

  ‘Could be,’ she replied, ‘if ye sit still enough so I can do yer hair.’

  The river was intensely blue, completely still, the sun glinting so brightly it made my eyes water. Why had he stolen
the evidence? What did he hope to gain? I was deep in thought as I stepped into the ferry. Either he was going to demand money from me, or he was planning to blackmail Mr Tregellas. He knew I had no money, so that was not the reason and if he blackmailed Mr Tregellas, he would be in too much danger of exposing himself as the thief. What would someone like Jim do?

  I jumped at the sound of my name. I had not heard the ferryman ask for his fare.

  ‘Gettin’ out, Miss Pengelly, or are ye here for the ride?’ It was Joshua Tregen. I remembered him as a thin, spotty youth who I used to row against in the gig races. I had not liked him then and I had no reason to like him now. ‘Perhaps yer just wanted to watch me row, Miss Pengelly? Yer like muscles on a man, do yer?’ he said, pufng up his chest, exing his torso.

  ‘Admire your rowing? You know very well I can row every bit as well as you, Joshua Tregen,’ I said, throwing my money into the boat.

  I was angry with Joshua Tregen for speaking to me like that, but even angrier with myself – it was another man’s muscles I had been picturing in my mind. Losing the evidence was my main concern but something else was making me uneasy. I had found discrepancies in Madame Merrick’s accounts. Several invoices for silk and half a dozen rolls of velvet and satin were missing and I was not looking forward to telling her she would need them before she could clear her books with the Custom and Excise ofcials.

  I climbed the steps to nd the shop in even more disarray than usual and Mother looking decidedly ustered. ‘Oh, Rosehannon,’ she cried, wringing her hands, ‘thank goodness you’re alright. I was that worried this morning. I wanted to send for Mrs Abbott, but Jenna said you’d just had a restless night. I suppose you were dreaming when you thought you heard a fox? Let me look at you. You look very pale.’

  ‘I’m ne, honest, Mother – it was just a bad dream.’

  ‘Good. I…I couldn’t take it if anything was to happen to you.’ She looked down at the oor, suddenly shy at her emotion and my heart ached. She seemed so fragile in her shabby dress, her spotless apron and her mobcap neatly pinned in place. Talking to Jim had made me realise how much I had shunned her as a child, always competing for my father’s approval. I could see how very lonely she must have felt, left all day in a childless house, the hollow rooms echoing her empty heart. I felt terrible. She had a skill I had completely disregarded – no wonder she loved teaching Jenna to sew.

  I took hold of her hands, determined to make amends. ‘Nothing will happen to me, I’m very strong.’ She smiled and I dropped my voice. ‘You haven’t told Madame Merrick I was tired this morning, have you?’

  ‘Dear Lord, no – there’s no telling Madame Merrick anything today. She’s in a terrible state.’

  ‘Is she still sulking about her precious patronage?’

  ‘Well, yes, but ye mustn’t mock, Rosehannon. She’s taken it into her head she needs Lady April Cavendish and nothing’ll stop her. She’s heard Lady April has four daughters and she’s that determined. Just think what it would mean for her business.’

  ‘Four daughters, all as haughty and arrogant as their mother? The thought lls me with horror!’

  ‘Hush or you’ll make her even angrier. She’s in a right old state because Mrs Hoskins asked for tea and now she thinks we should serve tea to all her customers. But we don’t have anywhere to boil the water and we can’t risk a re – not with the fabrics in the storehouse. Madame Merrick’s gone to Mr Melhuish to ask if she could keep a kettle on the boil in his forge.’

  ‘Sounds like an unnecessary fuss if you ask me – anyway she’s going to be in a worse state when I tell her about the discrepancies.’

  We watched Madame Merrick striding up the steps, frowning and muttering to herself. ‘Don’t bother her, Rosehannon – least not yet,’ Mother pleaded. ‘Wait awhile, and let me talk to her when she’s in a better frame of mind – you know how angry you make her sometimes. This tiswas between you does us no good.’

  Madame Merrick burst through the door, a look of thunder on her face. ‘Insolent man! I will not be spoken to like that…I am not a seamstress.’

  Her new dress was more immaculate than ever. She strode angrily across the room, the beautiful silk robe with its ne lace underskirts swishing against the wooden oorboards. She was wearing a new lace cap threaded with satin ribbon and a beautifully embroidered chu, held in position by a ne silver brooch, a blue gemstone glittering at its centre.

  ‘I will serve my ladies tea,’ she said with absolute determination. ‘I will show them what a genteel establishment we have here…whether that blacksmith likes it or not. We will just have to see what Mr Tregellas has to say – he will support me. After all, it is his yard and his decision will overrule that insolent, half-dressed brute.’ At the mention of Mr Tregellas, she saw me inch. ‘Ah, good morning Miss Pengelly, you’re very late this morning.’

  ‘Good morning, Madame Merrick,’ I curtseyed. I wanted to remain in Mother’s favour but I really needed to discuss the accounts. ‘I can see you’re busy, and a bit preoccupied, but when you’ve a moment I’d like to discuss some invoices with you.’ Mother let go of my hand, immediately seeking the safety of the storeroom.

  ‘Busy! Preoccupied! Pah! I have a hundred and one things to do today…That cotton shipment has gone to St Austell instead of coming to Fosse and I need it if I am to nish the bodice lining for Mrs Hoskins’ gown. Mrs Hoskins herself can only come for her next tting on Saturday…though why I do not know as she surely has nothing better to do. When will I be able to go all the way to St Austell to fetch it? Preoccupied, you say? The lace alone will take another two days…’ She stopped, her hawk eyes staring straight at me. ‘Which invoices?’

  ‘Several…Actually, there are quite a few – the rolls of blue silk, the red velvet…and that last batch of lemon satin. I can show you exactly which ones they are.’

  ‘Never mind which ones they are – I know which ones they are. You will nd them among the other receipts.’

  ‘Madame Merrick, I’ve looked everywhere for them. They aren’t there.’

  ‘Then you are mistaken. If you look again, tomorrow, you will nd them.’

  ‘I can look now if you like but I know they’re not there. You’ll need them for next Tuesday.’

  Madame Merrick looked horried at my insistence. ‘You will have them tomorrow, Miss Pengelly,’ was clearly all she was prepared to say.

  Mother came in from the storeroom, her eyes darting from one of us to the other. She was carrying a roll of soft grey cotton which shimmered in the sunshine. ‘Look, isn’t this the most beautiful material?’ she said, smiling shyly, obviously trying to make amends. ‘Madame Merrick’s given it to me to make a dress. I can hardly believe it. See, I’m going to decorate it with this.’ She laid a spool of Belgian lace gently against the cotton. ‘It’s going to be that beautiful. Look.’ She held up the fabric, her face glowing with pleasure. ‘Madame Merrick’s been so kind…so generous, I feel that spoilt.’

  Madame Merrick permitted herself a half-smile before turning brusquely away. I felt terrible. Mother had obviously wanted to keep things pleasant between us and my manner had been abrupt and insolent. Had Mother wanted to protect me from Madame Merrick or Madame Merrick from me? I hardly recognised myself any more. It was not my anxiety making me quick to anger; it was our poverty turning me so sullen.

  I tried to make amends. ‘You’ll both look so lovely in your new gowns – Lady April Cavendish is bound to agree to be your patron. I know I would, if I were her.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Pengelly – that is very kind of you, but looking lovely is of no consequence if Lady April is never to see us.’

  ‘What’ve you done to attract her attention? Have you sent her your particulars? She can’t be your patron if she doesn’t know you exist.’

  ‘What can be done? Everyone is trying to attract her attention and no-one can approach her before she sends a calling-card. I am beginning to think having her pat
ronage can only remain a dream.’

  It was always the same. Madame Merrick was an accomplished dressmaker, yet her future depended on the whim of people who did not care one jolt whether she even existed – let alone prospered.

  ‘People like Lady April care nothing for the likes of you or me,’ I replied. ‘They only care for their horses and dogs! You’d do better choosing your nest silk, embroidering it with your most delicate stitches and sending her a cushion for her hideous pug!’ I had spoken in anger but, suddenly, I realised the truth behind my words. ‘Why don’t you do that? Edge it with your best lace, thread it through with your nest satin ribbons and send it to Lady April with your compliments. Enquire after her dear dog’s welfare. After all, the poor thing’s had a long sea voyage and may be incapacitated by the upheaval! You never know, it might just get her attention.’ Madame Merrick’s eyes sharpened. She did not smile, but nor did she raise her eyebrows.

  If I had seen him coming, I would have dived into the storeroom but it was too late. Mr Tregellas was mounting the steps, two at a time, his brows contracting in a frown. I was powerless to escape. ‘Good afternoon, Madame Merrick, Mrs Pengelly, Miss Pengelly.’ His bow was curt, barely even noticeable.

  ‘Good afternoon, Mr Tregellas. What a nice surprise. I trust we nd you well?’

  ‘Well enough, Madame Merrick – but in very bad humour.’

  Madame Merrick raised her eyebrows. Mother’s hands gripped the back of a chair and I took a deep breath, trying to calm my fear.

  ‘What can have happened?’ Madame Merrick said, closing the door before offering Mr Tregellas a chair.

  Turning his back on her, he waved her brusquely aside. ‘Thieves broke into my house last night and stole something of great importance.’ He was staring straight at me, his cold grey eyes accusing me of theft.

  ‘How terrible!’ Madame Merrick sat down, fanning herself vigorously. ‘And have you caught them yet?’

  ‘No, but we will – they’ll be caught and hung.’