It was about half a mile through the fields to Trecath-en’s farmhouse. A ten-minute walk in normal circumstances but Kerensa knew it would take her much longer today. She expected to have two or three contractions on the way. There was no need to panic, it wasn’t her first baby. When the pains came she would stop and wait for them to subside, then carry on her way. Alice would be there at the farm. She would know what to do. She had had babies of her own. And it would be hours yet. Time enough for Clem to put Jack on the farm cart and take them back to the manor for the birth and to fetch Dr Crebo for them both.
The trek across country was more difficult than Kerensa had counted on. The ground ran downhill and every step she took was heavy and jarred her tender stomach and persistently aching back. She was in shock from the attack, her mouth was dry, she felt sick and black edges round her eyes threatened to cut off her vision. She stumbled over protruding comers of granite rock, slithered over pebbles. She was brought often to her knees, each time finding it more difficult to get back on her feet.
The contractions were closer together and more painful than she had anticipated. Suddenly she could no longer stand but lowering herself onto the short green corn was an agony she’d never known before. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to breathe evenly. Once, she opened her eyes and looked down and saw the pointed whiskery features of a tiny field vole. It turned its head to the side and sniffed the air, its bright, curious eyes seeming to ask what she was doing there. It was the only sign of life she could see and in her desperation she asked it to go and fetch help. But the field vole only scuttled away. She laughed and cried together when she realised what she had done. Now if the little creature had been a dog it might have worked and she cursed herself for not bringing Bob along.
Then fresh hope brought her to her feet again. She had an idea and shouted ‘Charity!’ as loudly as she could. If Clem was working in the fields then Charity would be with him and, with her sharp ears, would alert Clem. But even though Kerensa shouted until her throat was hoarse and felt fainter as the effort starved her brain of oxygen, no big black retriever came barking and bounding towards her voice.
She tramped on, but not for long. She woke up on the ground sweating and cramped all over and she knew she had fainted. She did not know how long she had lain there, her face pressed to the ground.
‘Jack!’ she cried out. ‘I’m going, Jack, I won’t let you down.’
She struggled to her feet in a panic, praying through her tears that the delay had not cost Jack his life.
She dragged herself along, taking one slow, anguished step after another, holding her belly and fighting against the pain. Her whole being consisted now of nothing but pain. Pain in her weakened limbs, the pains of the child making its way out of her body, throbbing pain where Dando had struck her face, and the worst pain of all, the knowledge that if she had not been so stubborn Jack would not be lying, dead or dying, in the dirt.
‘Oh Clem,’ she gasped, ‘where are you? Anybody!’
When she saw the first of the farm buildings, tears poured down her face. She trudged on past the barn and outbuildings and had to skirt round the billy goat on his long tether to avoid it nibbling at her clothes. She was dismayed to find the farmyard deserted. None of Clem’s three children was playing or doing a chore there. Even the wild cats that were usually to be found sunning themselves beside the kitchen wall were absent.
She called out in panic. ‘Clem! Alice! Anyone! Where are you?’
She reached the open kitchen door at the same moment a fierce pain made her cry out and she fell across the doorstep.
‘Who’s there? Is that you, Alice? Is everything all right?’
She recognised the voice of Kenver Trenchard but could not answer him. A strange rolling sound came towards her and she imagined that the house was about to collapse about her. She looked into the kitchen and saw an even stranger sight. Kenver was seated in an upright chair with big cart-like wooden wheels attached to either side, the rims of which were covered with strips of leather. Kerensa was so surprised at the sight she uttered a choked cry.
Kenver was even more surprised. ‘Kerensa! What’s happened to you!’ She had never been Lady Pengarron to him, he had not set eyes on her since before her marriage.
Kerensa stayed sprawled on the doorstep, her back leaning heavily against the door. She tried to gain her breath.
‘I need help… Kenver… for Jack… we were attacked… by thieves up… on the edge of… the fields. He’s lying out there… barely alive. Where is everyone? Where’s Alice? …I need her, Kenver. My baby’s coming!’
Kenver wheeled himself closer. He looked grave. ‘I’m afraid Alice and Rosie have taken the children to a wedding at Perranbarvah. Clem and Father are cutting furze and logs and won’t be back for an hour or so.’
‘But Jack needs urgent attention!’ Kerensa wailed. ‘Isn’t there something we can do?’
‘I’m afraid not, but they won’t be late, they don’t leave me alone for long. Your baby won’t be born for a while yet, will it?’ he asked anxiously, her despair making him feel all the more helpless.
Kerensa rubbed her dirtied hands over her bulge, painless and quiet for the moment. ‘I’m afraid it’s coming quicker than I first thought but not for quite a while, I hope. It’s Jack I’m worried about.’
‘Well, you won’t help Jack by sitting in the doorway,’ Kenver said. ‘Let me help you inside. Then we’ll just have to sit and wait it out together and pray Jack will be all right.’ Although his legs were useless Kenver’s arms had great strength and effortlessly he put them under Kerensa’s armpits and eased her up gently to sit on his lap. She held on thankfully to him as he wheeled his strange moving chair to a window in the corner of the room then helped her into a firm comfortable chair that was piled with colourful patchwork cushions.
‘Would you rather lie down, Kerensa? My bed’s through the next room so you won’t have to climb the stairs.’
‘No… thank you, Kenver. I’d rather stay here then I can see if someone’s coming.’
‘I’ll, um, fetch you a dish of tea,’ he said. ‘You look really parched.’
‘Your mother never had an empty teapot as I remember,’ Kerensa remarked, the memory almost making her smile.
‘Then I’ll get you some water so you can clean up a bit.’
‘Thank you, Kenver. You are kind.’ She rubbed at fresh tears and sniffed and gulped. Kenver reached round to a pile of laundry airing behind him and took one of Alice’s handkerchiefs which he gave to Kerensa. She thanked him and buried her face in it.
‘I wish I could do more for you, Kerensa,’ Kenver said, and seeing her only as a friend of the family in distress he patted her shoulder and wound her hair back behind her ears.
‘I’m just so glad you’re here, Kenver. It’s a great help.’
‘Have you any idea who attacked you?’ he asked, as he expertly manoeuvred his chair round the furniture to reach the teapot.
‘No… none at all,’ she sniffed, peering out through the window and willing Clem or Morley to appear.
She took in the contents of the kitchen, noting the new touches Alice had made since Clem’s mother had died. Some of the ornaments on the mantelshelf were ones Alice had had in her room when she lived at the manor as Kerensa’s maid. The bellows leaning against the wall of the fireplace were on the lefthand side; Florrie Trenchard had always insisted they be kept on the right. On a little shelf beside a chair at the hearth she saw with irony a tinder box that she recognised as belonging to her late grandfather. Clem must have taken it from the cottage in Trelynne Cove after she and Old Tom Trelynne had left it deserted all those years ago. This room could have been her domain, she could have been Clem’s wife and shared his life with him here. With painful regret she wished she did not love two men. Even more painful was the fact that the one she needed the most at this moment could be halfway round the world, and might not even care.
‘Pity Mother isn’t here now,’ Kenver said, coming back with a mug of tea. ‘She was strong enough to have carried Jack home on her back and if Gran were alive she could have seen to you.’
‘Like I said, thank God you’re here, Kenver. I feel a bit safer,’ Kerensa said, gazing at him with blinking eyes. ‘It’s years since I was here last. You haven’t changed a bit.’
‘You have, you’ve changed a lot, Kerensa,’ he said, looking at her closely.
‘Have I?’
‘Yes. Even with your clothes all torn and your face scratched and dirty I can see you’re far more beautiful. Everyone says you are, and now I can see for myself. I’ll get that water I promised you and a cloth to wash your face.’
Kerensa gulped at the bitter strong tea and watched him ladle water from a pail behind the door into a small tin bowl. Kenver was an attractive young man, his flawless skin pale from a life spent mostly indoors. His hair was lighter than Clem’s, almost white like the twins’, his eyes a deep violet blue. If he could stand, Kerensa believed he would be nearly as tall as Clem, and even with his physical disability she thought if ever he chose to leave the farm he would turn many a girl’s heart.
Finishing the tea she put the mug on the deep windowsill. Kenver wheeled over and handed her a clean cloth, the one Alice used for washing the children. He kept the bowl of water on his lap.
‘When you’re ready,’ he said encouragingly.
‘You always were good to me, Kenver.’
‘I was a lovestruck boy of fifteen when I last saw you. I believed I loved you as much as Clem did.’
Kerensa hung her head as she dabbed her sore face with the cloth. ‘It was one of the cruellest things to happen when… when I didn’t marry Clem… not being able to come to the farm and see you. You do understand… with Clem living here…’
‘Aye, but I knew I’d see you again one day and here you are.’
‘A pity it has to be with me in this sorry state and with poor Ja—’
She clutched her stomach and lowered her head to her chest as another contraction came. Kenver took her hands and she gripped his long, cool, sensitive fingers until it must surely hurt.
‘Sorry,’ she said, a while later.
‘It’s all right, I did the same for Alice till she went upstairs with Jessica. Are you sure you won’t lie down?’
‘No, please, I’d rather stay here.’ A small look of fear creased her face. ‘There… there may come a time when I’ll have to.’
‘Don’t worry,’ he said soothingly. ‘I’m sure I’ll manage to do what I have to. One thing about being stuck most of my life in the house with the women is I’ve overheard a heck of a lot about childbirth and other unmentionable things. Now wash your hands and face, you’ll feel a bit better. Then we’ll sit quietly and pray for the Lord’s protection over Jack.’
There were no clocks in Trecath-en Farm but Kenver reckoned when the sun dropped out of sight behind the barn and cast a long shadow over the yard an hour had passed. He hoped Clem or his father would appear very soon. Kerensa’s pains were becoming more frequent and knowing the layout of the farmland he knew Jack would be fully exposed under a scorching sun. He was worried about Kerensa. Her condition was weak and shocked for a woman about to face the final stages of labour and she was constantly falling into a faint. All his life Kenver had had people help and wait on him. Now, all of a sudden, here he was faced with the awesome responsibility of someone else’s welfare.
A cheerful whistling from out in the yard brought Kerensa to consciousness, her body rigid. If she’d been able she would have jumped out of the chair. Painfully she stood up and went to the door, blinking in the light. Clem was strolling across the yard, his crib bag held loosely over his shoulder. Kerensa couldn’t move or cry out, only stand and watch the tall young man with blond hair coming towards her.
When he saw her the crib bag was thrown aside. He ran, and in an instant she was in his arms, strong, capable, comforting arms to hold and protect her. She was safe now, held in his love. And then she drifted away into a sweet welcoming darkness.
‘You’ve been asleep for nearly an hour,’ Clem told Kerensa gently.
‘Where am I?’ she murmured, gazing about the room where she lay in a small lumpy bed. ‘I’ve not been here before.’
He took her hot moist hands from the green and blue patchwork cover. ‘This is the main bedroom of the farm.’
‘Where you and Alice sleep?’
‘Aye, it was Father’s idea to move into the lean-to after Mother died and for us to come in here. I think he wanted some peace and quiet from the rest of us.’
Kerensa smiled at the little bed in the corner where a rag doll she had made herself sat propped up against the pillow. It was Jessica’s bed and she could picture the tiny girl with the golden curls cuddling the doll in her sleep. Kerensa wanted to go back to sleep and closed her eyes again. But a terrifying vision of a young man, battered, bleeding and dying on a cart track invaded her mind and she screamed out his name. She struggled to sit up but Clem firmly held her down.
‘It’s all right, my love. Jack is in the lean-to. Father fetched him in the cart. It’s too risky to take either of you back to the manor so Adam Renfree, who arrived here a little while ago, has ridden off to Marazion to fetch Dr Crebo. Adam was worried out of his mind about you, he’s been out looking for you, he and many others, but they went to places like Trelynne Cove first.’
‘Jack’s alive? He’s still alive?’
‘Yes, my love, he’s still alive. Kenver’s with him, he’s cleaning up some of his wounds with Rosie’s concoctions, the stuff Beatrice taught her to make, so they won’t go septic.’
‘And Jack will be all right, Clem?’
Clem stroked her cheek very tenderly. ‘We don’t know that for sure yet, my love, but we mustn’t give up hope.’
Kerensa became calmer, she raised her arms and put her hands on Clem’s shoulders. ‘It’s so good to see you. I think I rode out this way in the first place with some vague idea of seeing you.’
‘You know I’m here whenever you want me.’ He softly kissed her flushed cheeks.
‘It was such a relief to find Kenver here in that strange contraption of his. It gave me quite a shock but I’m glad it helps him to get about.’
‘It was his idea, he made it himself.’
‘I must have given him a fright myself, turning up like this. Oh, what have I done, Clem,’ she said wretchedly. ‘It’s all my fault Jack got beaten the way he did. If I hadn’t insisted on—’
‘None of that.’ Clem pressed a finger to her lips. ‘Jack was hurt trying to protect you. It’s all that would have mattered to him.’
‘But he’s just a boy.’
‘No, my little sweet, Jack’s a grown man now.’
‘He’ll always be a boy to me, like one of my own children.’
‘And you’ll soon be adding another to your family,’ Clem said, pressing a hand to her forehead to feel her temperature.
‘What?’ Memory of her labour rushed back to her. ‘But the pains have stopped.’
‘No they haven’t, you’re so worn out you’ve been sleeping through them. I’ve felt your middle, it’s still contracting and they’re getting stronger.’
As if to prove the truth of his words she felt the next pain. Caught unaware, it was sheer agony and she doubled over, fighting to control her breathing and letting out a loud squeal.
‘This one is different… to my other labours…’ she panted. ‘I wish Alice was here… and that… I had some of Beatrice’s… raspberry leaf tea to ease the discomfort…’
Clem held her hands as Kenver had done. ‘I’ll go and have a look in Rosie’s box of remedies and see if she’s got some in there. Father’s gone to get Alice so she’ll be here quite soon.’
‘No!’ Kerensa said fearfully. ‘Please don’t leave me, it won’t be much longer now.’
‘If Father can get Dr Crebo to come straightaway he might feel he’ll have to treat Jack first. If Alice is not here in time, well, I’ve delivered many a calf and lamb.’
Kerensa had sunk back into the same welcome, comfortable darkness. When she opened her eyes her head was turned towards the window and she stared out at the cloudless pale blue sky and waited for the next contraction. None came.
‘Kerensa.’
She turned to face Clem.
‘That’s the second time you’ve fainted on me today.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said wanly, ‘you always used to say you had no patience with silly fainting females.’
‘In your case you’re excused,’ he smiled. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to reveal suntanned arms about a bundle of cloth.
‘What have you got there?’ she asked sleepily.
‘This tiny little thing in my arms?’
‘Is it – my baby?’ Her face broke into a shining smile. ‘You have my baby?’
‘Aye, and she’s as beautiful as her mother.’
‘She?’
‘A tiny wisp of a thing but I reckon she’s fine. Do you want to hold her?’
Kerensa held out her arms, she had no strength left to try to sit up. Clem sat on the bed, handed her the baby, then lifted her and encircled them both in his arms.
‘I’ve never held a newborn baby before. I’ve always been afraid of them, even my own, but it’s different when you help bring one into the world,’ he said proudly.
‘Just look at her,’ Kerensa whispered. ‘She was nearly full term but she’s smaller than your twins were.’
‘And with none of her mother’s red hair or… his black hair. It’s fair like mine. People could talk, you know,’ he teased.
Kerensa laughed. ‘My father and grandfather were fair.’
‘Ah, but who will remember that?’
Clem cupped the tiny warm head in his hand. The baby was quiet, putting her pink tongue in and out of her puckered red mouth as if she was tasting this new thing called air. Her eyes were open but not for long and she nestled into her mother’s breast and slept. She was wrapped in a floral patterned petticoat snatched from Alice’s drawer and tenderly Clem positioned the fabric to cover the top of her head to keep her warm.
‘I did a good job helping this little one into the world but I suppose I should have found something more suitable than this to put her in,’ he confessed. ‘I just didn’t think.’ Kerensa kissed her daughter’s forehead and said, ‘Now isn’t that just like a man! This will do for now.’
Clem gently tilted Kerensa’s face to look into her eyes. ‘There is a part of you, Kerensa, that belongs to me. A part of you Oliver Pengarron can never have. I helped to bring this child into the world. I was the first person to set eyes on her, the first to hold her and I feel a part of her belongs to me too… Have you got a name for her?’
‘No, I hadn’t given much thought to what the baby I was carrying would be called.’
‘Kelynen is nice, Cornish for holly, and right now she’s as red as a holly berry.’
‘It’s a beautiful name,’ Kerensa said thoughtfully.
‘A beautiful child deserves a beautiful name.’
‘Yes,’ Kerensa said, sadly. ‘I was hoping I wouldn’t have to choose alone and she must be called something.’