Nick stalked into the parlour of Trevennor House, thrusting back the door and making it jar to a halt. The curtains were drawn, shrouding the room in almost darkness. He could see the clumsy shape of Deborah Kempthorne stretched out on a sofa, a hand laid across her brow. He strode towards her, grimacing at the distasteful odour of her headache powders, scent and perspiration.
Deborah moaned as if from afar. ‘Who’s there?’
‘It’s me.’
‘Nick?’ She tried to get up but fell back clutching her head in agony. Her headaches were genuine; probably the only thing about her that was.
Nick went round to the windows, roughly pulling open the curtains.
‘Wh-what are you doing?’
He began opening the windows, as wide as they would go, letting in the cold air.
Deborah tried and failed to sit up again. ‘Oh, Nick. Please close the curtains… my head… What are you doing? You’re making a draught.’
He ignored the muffled pleas from the sofa, returning to his station in front of it. Deborah lowered her hand and opened her eyes with a squint. She could not see Nick well. ‘Come closer, I can’t see you properly.’
Nick stood his ground, his hands resting on his hips, his face stern. The better light showed up the woman’s full ugliness.
Deborah struggled and this time she managed to sit up, groaning and holding her head. She tried to pat her hair back into place but succeeded in bringing down more of its straggly ends. ‘Where have you been, Nick? I sent for you hours ago. What time is it?’
‘About midday.’ He spoke sharply.
Deborah screwed up her face and tried to focus on his face. Her cap fell off and she was forced to wipe spittle from the side of her mouth. Her hands flapped about the sofa until she located a handkerchief which she dabbed at her lips then patted over her face. Nick’s mouth tightened at the sight.
‘I’ve had a terrible morning,’ she said in a complaining voice. ‘Mary Ellen was found dead and the servants are accusing me of having something to do with it. Then some awful sailor turned up saying he was the child’s uncle and took her away. I dismissed all the servants and then this wretched headache came on. I’ve been lying here in sheer agony waiting for you to come to me.’
‘What a pity.’
‘Are you all right, Nick? You sound strange. But things are better for us now with Mary Ellen out of the way. Why don’t you sit down beside me? I want you to hold me.’
‘I’ve brought someone to see you, Deborah.’
‘Oh no, who is it? I’m in no fit state to receive visitors.’
Nick looked across to the doorway where Isabel had been standing, listening. Deborah followed his gaze but could see only the hazy outline of a tall, slim female. ‘Who are you? What do you want?’
Isabel crossed the room and stood beside Nick. Coolly, she said, ‘Hello, Deborah.’
‘What?’ Deborah’s eyes shot wider and she shook her head and stared until her vision cleared. ‘Who are you? You sounded like… you can’t be…’
‘But it is. Your cousin Isabel Hampton, back from the bottom of the ocean.’
Forgetting her agony, Deborah jumped up and looked closer. ‘You’re an imposter! You look a bit like Isabel Hampton but she wasn’t so—’
‘Beautiful,’ Nick supplied.
Deborah gaped at him. ‘What are you doing with this woman in my house, Nick?’
‘My house, Deborah,’ Isabel said coldly. ‘I did not perish that day of the coach accident. Nick saved my life, he took me to safety where you could not hurt me.’
‘I don’t believe you. It’s not true!’
‘Every word is the truth,’ Nick said with relish. ‘I took Isabel to safety then I came back to Gwithian for Laurence’s funeral, and kept coming back here with the intention of keeping an eye on you and your wretched brother, to find out if you meant harm to Isabel as Laurence suspected. It didn’t take long for me to find out the truth, did it?’
‘Uncle Laurence? What’s he got to do with this?’ Deborah’s voice was becoming shrill.
‘I was Laurence’s friend, remember. He trusted me but did not trust you and Edmund. He knew you wished Isabel harm. He told me what he suspected and asked me to look after her. That’s what I’ve been doing, with the help of my friends, these past few weeks. I’ve got friends, Deborah, Isabel’s got friends. That’s something you don’t know about, is it? Everybody hates you!’
Deborah thrust her hands to her head and shook it from side to side. ‘I don’t believe a word of what you’re saying. I don’t know what’s the matter with you, Nick. You said you loved me.’
‘Love you? I loathe you, the sight of you, the sound of your voice, the death-laden smell of you, the very essence of you. You are the most evil woman I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.’
Deborah let out an animal-like scream and fell back on the sofa. ‘No, she’s dead… that woman’s not Isabel, she’s dead… you came to me as a fortune-hunter believing she was dead, she was seen…’ Realization hit her at last. ‘He lied.’
‘Aye, Gyver Pengelly lied when he said he saw Isabel’s body. Now he’s dead too, dead and in Hell, the proper place for him.’
Deborah’s face took on a reptilian appearance. You won’t get the better of me! Edmund will be here soon. He’ll put things right. He won’t believe that I killed Mary Ellen. He’ll say Dorcas killed her, she was the one who found her. No one will believe a servant over a lady. There is no evidence to say I had anything to do with it.’
‘They’ll believe me, Deborah Kempthorne,’ a quiet voice said from the doorway.
Those in the room looked to see who had entered. Charlotte Thomas was there, holding out a piece of white lace with dark hair lying on it. ‘I believe Dorcas. This is the piece of lace she found in Mary Ellen’s dead hand. It comes from your dress, torn off in her last bid for life. I’ve just been upstairs and studied the bed. These dark hairs were lying across Mary Ellen’s body. They come from your head, they fell out as you bent over her and suffocated her to death. And I have more evidence. Last night my husband overheard your brother talking to Gyver Pengelly. He told me what passed between them. We thought it was just the ramblings of a drunkard then, but now I can see it was another plot to find Miss Hampton and kill her. I have sent for the constable. He will be here shortly to take you into custody.’
‘No! I don’t believe you. You’re all trying to frighten me.’ Deborah looked wildly from face to face. ‘Edmund will sort things out and if that creature you’ve brought in here really is Isabel Hampton, he’ll make sure she really dies! She won’t take all this from us. Edmund won’t let her! He won’t!’
‘Edmund has already tried to kill me,’ Isabel said calmly. ‘He found out I was staying with friends of Nick’s at Crantock and followed me along the cliffs early this morning. But his plan failed. Nick saved me again and Edmund tried to kill him. Edmund got what he deserved. He fell over the cliff. We did try to save him but he struggled too much. He’s dead.’ Isabel held out Edmund’s hat. ‘He’s the one in the ocean, Deborah, and we saw his body, Nick and I, lying down there, smashed on the rocks.’
‘No! You’re lying! You can’t come back now and say these things to me!’ Deborah launched herself at Isabel but Nick stepped between them and pushed her violently away. She howled like a wolf and ripping a brooch off her dress threw herself at Nick. ‘I’ll mark your handsome face! No woman will ever look at you again.’ The brooch scored a line down his cheek before his hands could grip her arms. She spat and struggled, screaming hysterically, lashing out with her feet, trying to wrench herself away. She was completely out of control. The brooch fell out of her hand and Isabel kicked it away.
Nick grunted with the effort to restrain her. Isabel tried to clutch one of her arms and Charlotte rushed forward to help. Deborah delivered a kick in her direction and Charlotte was knocked off her feet.
‘Push her down on the sofa, Nick,’ Isabel cried.
‘I’m trying to!’
Isabel reached across Nick’s arm and managed to grasp a handful of Deborah’s thick hair. She twisted her head round and slapped her cousin’s face soundly. Deborah was stunned and sank to the sofa, her screams reduced to a whimper, her chest heaving.
Perran Thomas came in with the constable and some of the male servants. He went straight to his wife. ‘The constable will take over now, beloved.’
Deborah Kempthorne was trussed up and led away, shouting abuse and threats. Outside she had to run a gauntlet of booing villagers who had got wind of events from the sacked servants.
Perran put his arm round Charlotte but he was looking at Isabel who was gazing alternately at Nick and the familiar things in the room. ‘Come, my dear,’ Perran said to his wife, ‘there is nothing left for us to do here now.’
Isabel went to Nick immediately after their tactful withdrawal. ‘Your face…’
‘’Tis nothing,’ he said softly, becoming aware of his stinging cheek. ‘Are you all right?’
Yes, but… it was almost worse than up on the cliffs with Edmund.’
‘Aye, I hope justice will be done to that woman. I’d hate to think of her going free to wreak more evil on the world.’
Isabel made to put herself in his arms but he moved away. ‘It will be good to see Laurence’s things back in their proper places, to get the smell of the Kempthornes out of the house for good.’
Isabel swallowed her disappointment. ‘Mary Ellen must still be here. I’ll see she’s buried in the churchyard. I’ve never met her… there’ll be no point in looking in on her…’
‘No, best not to.’
‘I think I’ll go up to Uncle Laurence’s room, where he died. Will you come with me, Nick?’
‘I’ll wait down here. You need to go alone.’
Isabel sat quietly on her uncle’s bed, reliving the happy memories of childhood days spent at Trevennor House with him. She tried to picture the conversation he’d held with Nick against the plump pillows. Uncle Laurence breathless, patient, as Nick looked at him in disbelief at his request. Nick agreeing to go and do the errand for the one man he cared for in the class he seemed to despise, but not looking forward to it, a chore to interfere with his solitary, drifting life. Uncle Laurence had been right to be afraid for her, but he could have had no idea of the consequences of his fears.
‘The man you sent to help me has changed my life, uncle,’ she whispered through her tears.
She found Nick waiting for her by the front door and they returned to the parsonage without saying a word.
Morenwyn was in the parlour, hiding behind her nurse’s skirts and refusing to be introduced to her seagoing uncle. Her face was puckered and she was about to burst into tears.
Isabel looked at the little face so reminiscent of Edmund’s. She whispered to Charlotte, ‘This seems to be too much for her, I wouldn’t like to see her frightened or upset.’
Nick moved slowly towards Morenwyn. ‘Hello, Morenwyn. Do you remember me? It’s Nick. I’ve seen you often at Trevennor House, the big house next door.’
Morenwyn’s dark eyes lit up and she left her nurse and went to Nick with her arms out. Nick picked her up and she wound her arms round his neck and buried her face against his shoulder. Nick turned so she was facing James. ‘You see that man sitting there, Morenwyn?’ he said softly, stroking her hair.
She nodded with big nervous eyes.
‘Well, he’s your Uncle James. He’s a good man and a friend of mine. You’re not afraid of a friend of mine, are you?’
Morenwyn shook her head. James gave her a big grin and she allowed him gently to pat her hair but she clung to Nick and would not move her head away from him.
‘And you know your nurse, and Mrs Christopher and Mistress Thomas?’ Nick took her round in a circle to see each smiling, encouraging face and the little girl nodded each time. ‘Well, the other lady in the room, the pretty lady who came in with me,’ Nick took her to face Isabel, ‘is a friend of mine as well. She’s called Isabel and she’s your cousin. Say hello to her, Morenwyn.’
She didn’t speak, just stared, so Isabel said ‘Hello’ and held out a hand to her. Morenwyn lifted her head from Nick’s shoulder and kept staring. ‘You look a bit like the old man’s picture,’ she piped.
‘He was my uncle, Morenwyn,’ Isabel said. Would you like to come to me? Just for a little while?’
Morenwyn thumped her face back against Nick’s shoulder. ‘I want my mam and my fathur.’
‘I’m afraid your mam and father have had to go away, Morenwyn,’ Nick said gently. ‘They sent Isabel to come here to look after you. I expect you will be living with her from now on.’
Isabel’s eyes widened. She hadn’t thought about her little second cousin’s fate before now, but she said quickly, ‘Yes, you can come and live with me, Morenwyn, and your nurse can come too. We’re part of the same family and we’ll have lots of fun together. Would you like that?’
Morenwyn’s face screwed up to cry. She had the little wooden dog Charlie had carved for her clutched in her hand and dropped it. Isabel picked it up. ‘I know the man who made this for you. We could ask him to make some more, a whole farmyard of animals.’ She held out the dog and Morenwyn took it back. Her tears stopped. Would you like to come to me?’ Isabel said, holding out her arms. ‘Just for a minute. Then you can go back to Nick.’
Morenwyn looked up to Nick with pouting lips. He grinned cheerily and said, ‘Go on, princess. I’ll be right here. Isabel is a kind lady, she won’t hurt you.’
‘I don’t want to go to sourpuss. She frightens me,’ Morenwyn said.
Nick mouthed to Isabel, ‘She’s talking about Deborah Kempthorne.’
‘You won’t have to go anywhere near her again, Morenwyn, I promise. She’s gone away too and will never come back to Trevennor House.’
Morenwyn was finally convinced and gingerly held out her chubby arms to Isabel. Isabel took her, a bit uncertainly at first, she had never held a child before, then she cuddled her in close and Morenwyn held up the wooden dog. ‘Will the man make me a cat?’
‘I’m sure he will,’ Isabel laughed gently. ‘He’s about here somewhere. I’ll ask him for you in a little while.’
Morenwyn rested against Isabel’s neck. ‘I want my mam,’ she whispered.
‘I know, Morenwyn,’ Isabel whispered, trying to hold back tears of her own. ‘Would you like to go and play with the other children now?’
‘Yes, please.’
Nick came forward and kissed the top of Morenwyn’s head and Isabel kissed her hot cheek. The nurse carried the sad little girl out of the room.
Isabel was worried. ‘I hope I said and did the right things.’
‘Rest assured you did, Miss Isabel,’ Charlotte told her brightly. ‘You were perfectly natural with her.’ Isabel looked at Nick for confirmation and he nodded.
‘She’s very fond of you,’ she said.
‘Aye,’ he sighed, ‘I saw a lot of her, she was always running about Trevennor House. Poor little mite, what a life she had to look forward to, but I reckon her future will be better now despite losing her parents.’
Isabel looked at James Leddra. ‘I’ll be happy to give Morenwyn a home but as her uncle it is of course for you to say where she goes.’
‘I’m grateful to you, Miss Isabel. I couldn’t look after her the way Mary Ellen would have wanted. I’m a seafaring man, the best I could do is pay some family to look after her.’
‘She’ll be safe with Isabel,’ Nick said firmly. Charlotte and Mrs Christopher nodded silently, they could both see the new strength Isabel had acquired in the weeks since her uncle’s death.
Kitty was surprised to see James Leddra coming up her pathway again that day. She met him before he could knock on the door. What are you doing here? Has something gone wrong?’
‘Nothing’s wrong, Miss Kitty,’ James said bashfully. ‘Miss Isabel was anxious for you and your brother to know what’s happened. She and Nick are tied up with the constable at the moment and then she has to settle the servants back into the house after my sister’s body is taken away, so I said I would come back to tell you.’
‘You mean you asked Nick if you could come instead of him,’ Kitty said somewhat haughtily, making no move to invite him into the house. ‘I thought you had a niece to see to.’
‘She, um, didn’t know what to make of me. The poor little soul has had an upsetting day. She’s going to stay at the curate’s house tonight, she’s got his young’uns to play with there.’
‘And you thought you’d come over here because you’re interested in me. I’m not for sale to just anybody, James Leddra.’
James looked as though Kitty had blown him back down her path. ‘I… know that. I didn’t come here to try my luck, Miss Kitty, but like you said, I am interested in you. Few women have caught my eye like you have.’
‘Well, I suppose you’d better come in and tell me what happened at Gwithian then, seeing as you’ve ridden all that way over here again. The stable boy can amuse himself for a while.’ Kitty looked down at James’s feet and frowned. You’ll have to take those boots off first and come in quietly, I don’t want my brother being disturbed. I’ll tell him myself later.’
Nick came to Isabel in the churchyard in the growing darkness. She was standing beside her uncle and aunt’s double grave, dressed in black in a dress borrowed from Charlotte, able to show she was in mourning at last.
Isabel saw he was dressed and packed for travelling. ‘You’re going away?’
‘Aye, Charlie’s leaving in a minute, he’s got the pleasant task of telling the fortunate Mrs Gyver Pengelly she’s now a widow. I’ll be leaving with him. I’ve spoken to the constable, done all I can here. It’s time I moved on. Have you been saying goodbye to Laurence?’
‘Yes.’ She paused before going on. ‘I hate saying goodbye.’
Nick studied Isabel’s pale loveliness then looked down at the grave. ‘I reckon he would have been pleased with the outcome.’
Isabel sighed. ‘He wouldn’t have wanted so many people to die. I’ll have his name put on the headstone. I don’t suppose Deborah and Edmund would have had it done once they’d moved to Truro.’
‘He can rest in peace now.’
‘I found a copy of Uncle Laurence’s will in his bedchamber. He left you his horses, Nick.’
Nick smiled. ‘That was just like Laurence. I won’t take them.’
‘But Uncle Laurence wanted you to have them. You said earlier today you would do anything for him; you can’t go against his last wishes for you.’
Nick thought. ‘I’ll take a couple with me, think about taking up as a packman again.’
Isabel said carefully, ‘With Uncle Laurence gone, I’ve got no one left but Morenwyn.’
‘She’s lost her parents today but I’m sure you’ll be able to make it up to her. She needs a woman’s love, James was right about not being able to look after her properly himself.’
‘A man who can’t stay put in one place,’ she mused. ‘I hadn’t seen Morenwyn before today, she’s a pretty little girl. I shall give her the home Edmund wanted her to have.’ She touched Nick’s arm. ‘Do you have to go?’
He looked at her evenly. Kitty’s words about Isabel’s future echoed in his mind. ‘Aye,’ he dropped his voice. ‘I reckon I do.’
Taking her hand from him, she nodded; this man could only be happy with his total freedom and he wasn’t interested in her personal plans. ‘Your other horses will be here waiting for you when you want them.’
Nick took something small out of his jacket pocket. ‘I keep meaning to give this back to you.’
‘My ring. Have you kept it on you all this time?’
‘Aye. Well, I think that settles everything.’ The wind pulled at his hair and rustled the trees which lined the graveyard. ‘Goodbye, Isabel.’
He held out his hand and she put hers into it. ‘Goodbye, Nick. Thank you for everything.’
He bent his head and kissed the back of her hand briefly. One more look and he left her there alone.