Matthias Renfree sat at the solid oak desk in the agreeable the parlour of Ker-an-Mor Farm. He was trying to concentrate on the figures he was noting down from receipts covering the last month’s expenditure on the farmhouse and the items bought for the upkeep of the estate and tenants’ dwellings. He wrote the word ‘plait’ instead of ‘price’ and slapped his pen down in a rare fit of temper.
‘You need a drink, boy’ – that’s what Adam would have said if he had witnessed his son’s pique.
‘I can understand why people are tempted,’ Matthias muttered to himself. A short time ago he would have said confidently, ‘Problems are not solved at the bottom of a bottle.’
He knew why he’d written ‘plait’ instead of ‘price’. Rosie Trenchard had that one long plait of silky golden hair running down the middle of her back. Every time he was alone with her he wanted to untie the ribbon at its end and pull apart the soft flowing mass and caress it and…
Matthias shuddered. He had always thought himself protected by his faith from the natural urges of the flesh, but of late he was greatly bothered by a sensation about the body that led to a terror it would grow out of control. It was the reason he took pains not to be alone with Rosie for long. The problem was this did not help with the courtship. Apart from his gift of flowers to her, he had done little to suggest to Rosie he was in fact courting her – trying to court her.
Love was supposed to be in the air in spring. Daffodils and primroses had flourished in the gardens, ditches and hedgerows. Fledgling birds had chirped their way out of their eggshells and went on to sing with joyful abandon in the trees. Streams had sparkled in the warm sun and chuckled over their stony beds. Everywhere he had looked, Matthias saw Mother Nature painting her uncompromising colours and warming the earth for the awakening wildlife. But no new dawn of life had begun for him then, and now it was deep into the heart of summer.
He picked up his pen to make the correction but he did no more than twist it aimlessly between his fingers. What was the matter with him? Other men had no trouble turning the woman they loved into their bride. Why was he so different? Men up to thirteen or fourteen years younger than he was were getting married all the time. Men who once had been boys in his Bible classes were marrying and producing families.
He thought often that his father’s attitude counted towards his difficulty with forming a romantic attachment with a woman. Adam was scornful of his celibacy, at times taunting the strict moral code he lived by with brutal remarks: ‘What you could do with is a bloody good night in a brothel. Tedn’t natural for a man to be going without a woman, what’s the matter with ’ee?’
Matthias asked himself that same question over and over again. He had hoped Adam would marry his constant companion, Jenna Tregurtha, but Adam wanted only food and bed without responsibility. Matthias longed to have someone else to come home to apart from his foul-mouthed father. But if he couldn’t overcome whatever it was that was blocking his courtship of Rosie, that would never happen, and if he didn’t do something about it soon he would probably lose her to another man anyway. There were plenty of young eligible men showing an interest in her and Matthias couldn’t bank on Clem’s attitude to ward them off indefinitely.
He rose from the desk and looked out of the window. His mood was black and he virtually hated the sight of every flower and shrub, every line of shells laid along the edge of the twisting narrow garden paths, and every post of the white-painted fencing that enclosed the flowerbeds that Jenna Tregurtha painstakingly tended in an attempt to lay a claim to belonging here.
Matthias was in pain. A deep, hollow, debilitating pain. He could have cried with sheer longing and frustration. Suddenly, he could bear it not a moment longer. He felt he would rather die than not know before the morning was over whether Rosie Trenchard would have him or not.
Matthias was distressed to find all the family out in the farmyard. Clem and Morley were making repairs to the barn roof. Kenver was in his wheeled chair chipping away at a piece of driftwood. Alice was sitting beside Kenver teaching Jessica how to spin. Philip was passing nails up for the barn while David played with Charity. They were all there except Rosie.
‘Hey!’ Clem called down to Matthias from his precarious perch after taking nails out of his mouth. ‘Anything up? Don’t usually see you this early in the day.’
Matthias blushed blood-red. ‘I… um… I think I left my Bible here last time… I… I need it for the class tonight.’
‘Your Bible, eh?’ Morley snorted on the ladder. ‘No one’s left a Bible here, have they, Alice?’
Alice hurried across the yard to Matthias’s rescue. ‘You’re welcome here anytime, Matthias, you know that. You can stay for the midday meal with us, I hope?’
‘Thank you, Alice,’ Matthias said, fussing with his hair, hoping he looked presentable after riding off in such an undignified rush.
‘She’s in the dairy,’ piped up Philip.
‘Who is, Philip?’ Matthias asked, then immediately regretted the question. He had left himself wide open to the awful humour a man is subjected to when he shows any sort of interest in the fairer sex.
‘Aunty Rosie, of course,’ Philip replied, huffing with deliberate impatience and giving his twin a pointed ‘come-and-join-in’ glance. ‘Can’t be anyone else, can it?’
‘Don’t be so rude, Philip,’ Alice ordered, giving her son’s head a light-handed swipe.
‘Aye, Aunty Rosie’ll be pleased to see you,’ David added mischievously, ‘… probably.’ He ducked expertly out of his mother’s reach.
‘Yes, well… all right then… I… um,’ Matthias pulled agitatedly at his shirt cuffs, ‘I… think I’ll just slip into the dairy and say good morning to Rosie then.’
‘You do that,’ Clem chuckled. ‘Like David said, she’ll be delighted to see you. ’Tis ages since you last spoke to her – must be all of yesterday.’
Matthias felt he had to join in the silly laughter that ensued and backed away, almost knocking Jessica off her feet. ‘S-sorry, Jessica.’ Patting her curls he rushed off.
‘Clem!’ Alice scolded, wagging a finger.
Clem blew her a kiss and carried on with his hammering.
Attached to the full length of the kitchen of the farmhouse, with a lean-to roof, was the back kitchen. Alice and Rosie did all the laundry and washing-up in this room, keeping the kitchen with its huge hearth all the more comfortable for visitors. At one end of the back kitchen lay the ‘spence’, or larder, full of pies, pickles and preserves and the ingredients for making them. At the other end, screened off, was the dairy, and Rosie was busy at work inside it.
She had heard Matthias’s voice outside and wondered why he was at the farm again so soon. ‘But it won’t be to see me,’ she muttered.
Matthias Renfree made her livid and she banged jugs and milk cans about. Her emotions had been all over the place since her assignation with Sir Oliver Pengarron. She had felt exhilaration, shame and a sense of adventure on that day. After the upset at the Trembaths’ wedding, which had left her feeling a stupid little fool, she had managed to get her feelings into perspective, then out of the blue had come Matthias Renfree with his magnificent bouquet. And then nothing.
She had been stunned and then delighted with his sudden interest. She’d compared Matthias with Sir Oliver and Matthias had come out favourably. He was mature, thoughtful, humorous and as Sir Oliver had said, possessed an agreeable countenance. She’d waited in suspense for Matthias to begin a formal courtship.
Her expectations had quickly received a cruel blow. It seemed his interest in her was no more than a passing whim. She knew he was shy and hadn’t expected any more bold gestures but he almost ignored her. She’d sensed him looking at her over the meal table but when she looked back he’d turn away with a red face. Then it seemed he didn’t want to spend a minute alone with her.
Rosie felt slighted and these days she was moodier than ever. She knew, deep down, that she had wanted Matthias Renfree’s interest in her to be greater than Sir Oliver’s, and more lasting. To forget him she had secretly tried to become interested in some other young men. She’d gone on a picnic with a young miner from the Bible class. He had turned up dressed smartly, had held an intelligent conversation in a soft voice and had a gentle laugh, not what was expected from a coarse miner, but when he shyly tried to kiss her she had pushed him away and refused to see him again. Bartholomew Drannock had asked if he could see her. Rosie had considered it. He was very good-looking and hard-working but while he displayed chivalry of a sort, Rosie knew he only wanted to add her to his list of conquests. After that she had gone out only to the Bible classes where she kept close to the family.
Damn you, Matthias Renfree, she thought in a wild, bitter mood, patting butter furiously over the stone sink, I’ll marry Ricketty Jim if he asks me and go off with him! I’ll make a play for him when he’s next in these parts and we’ll see how you like that!
Matthias could hear Rosie moving about in the dairy. It was thankfully cool as he stepped inside and he opened the top of his shirt front and shook it away from his skin to ease his feverish sweat. Screwing up his eyes as they adjusted to the darker light he spotted Rosie in a corner across the stone-flagged floor, her arms moving sharply.
He plucked up courage. ‘Good morning, Rosie.’
‘Oh!’ The half-pound of freshly patted butter fell from her hands, slid down her skirt and over her feet with a muted plop. ‘Oh no! It took me ages—’
‘I’m sorry, Rosie! Here, let me help you.’
Matthias was distraught and snatched up a piece of cheesecloth. The action knocked over a pitcher of milk and sent pots of scalded cream scattering off a shelf. Cream oozed out of the pots, but worse was yet to come. In her speed to save some of the cream, Rosie slipped on the greasy butter and fell headlong into Matthias. It sent them both crashing to the floor with Rosie across his lap.
The variety of exclamation noises Matthias made were harshly silenced.
‘Don’t you dare move, Preacher! Don’t you dare to move a muscle.’
Matthias obeyed. His heart sank as rapidly as the creamy white milk that dripped onto his head and spread all about them. Rosie would never look kindly on him now, would probably never speak to him again after this latest disaster, and he ached to put his arms round her and keep her close to him in the middle of all this ruined dairy produce.
Rosie pushed herself away and got gingerly to her feet. Turning her back on him she righted the jug and dropped a dishcloth on the shelf to stop the milk from dripping down. She turned again to look down on him sprawled in a pool of milk on the floor. He waited with bated breath for her to explode, but instead she did the worst thing in the world as far as he was concerned. She laughed. She couldn’t help herself, he looked so funny. She held her sides and laughed until tears streamed down her face. Matthias wanted to die. For the ground to open up and swallow him, taking him out of her sight for ever. Rosie thought him ridiculous!
He was about to get to his feet when she bent from the waist and wiped milk from his brown hair with the end of her apron.
‘You look a sight, Preacher,’ she said chirpily.
‘I expect I do,’ he answered miserably.
‘And your face,’ she tried not to laugh again, ‘it’s a cross between guilty, nervous and afraid. Philip and David don’t look like that even when they’ve been caught out doing something really wicked.’
Matthias remained still, he liked her drying his hair. ‘I wish you’d call me Matthias, not Preacher, Rosie.’
‘It wouldn’t feel right after all these years,’ Rosie said stubbornly, rubbing at his hair. Was he getting friendly again? Well, if he was, she wasn’t going to let him build up her hopes and dash them again.
‘Please, Rosie,’ he pleaded.
He sounded so sincere she softened a little. ‘All right then, I’ll try.’ She viewed his hair, all fluffed up and giving him a boyish appearance. ‘That’s almost dry now, but I can’t do anything about your, um, breeches.’
He sprang up, wiping his hands down his shirt front. ‘It’s all right, really, I’ll bring over some milk, cream and butter from Ker-an-Mor… to make up for this waste.’
‘There’s no need,’ Rosie said, watching his hands. ‘Father won’t mind, it wasn’t done on purpose. You startled me.’
Matthias saw the direction of her eyes and dropped his hands to his sides. ‘I’m not usually so clumsy, I’m never like this around other people.’
‘Just me?’
‘Yes, unfortunately.’
‘I see, there’s something about me that turns you to jelly and makes you accident-prone.’ Rosie didn’t find that flattering and went to the stone sink to get more cloths. She started vigorously cleaning up the mess.
‘Let me help you, Rosie, it’s the least I can do.’ Matthias was unsure of her mood and thought his only hope was to keep her talking.
‘I’d rather you didn’t.’
‘I am sorry, Rosie. I hope you’re not angry with me.’
‘No, I’m not angry,’ she said, carefully picking up pieces of broken crock and putting them in her apron.
‘Cross then?’ he persisted, bending down to help her and very nearly cracking his head on hers.
‘Not cross either.’
She was beginning to sound exasperated. Matthias ran anxious fingers through his hair. He didn’t want to leave Rosie until he had straightened things out with her. And he definitely did not want to rejoin the others and have them laugh at him. Rosie glanced up from her cleaning and saw his desperate face. She softened again.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone what really happened.’
‘It’s not just that, although I would appreciate it, Rosie,’ he said glumly. ‘If my father got to hear of it he would take me for an idiot.’ Straightening up he stood back out of her way.
‘There, it’s all cleaned up now,’ she said a few minutes later. ‘Not as bad as it looked.’
‘Is the floor still greasy?’ he tried to sound calm and caring. ‘I wouldn’t want you to slip again.’
‘Everything’s fine, Preacher— Matthias.’ She tilted her head to the side, her golden plait swaying like a pendulum. She was curious now to know why he was here, and a little hopeful. ‘Did you want to see me about something?’
He hesitated, his mouth gaping open, and the moment was lost.
‘No, no… that is, I rode over to see if I’d left something here. I just called in to say good morning.’
So that was all! ‘Well, the morning is nearly over,’ Rosie said tartly, ‘I daresay Alice will ask you to eat with us. She’ll be calling any moment now. Excuse me, I need to change my skirt.’
It was a painful reminder that once before Rosie had had to change her skirt because of his own peculiar clumsiness.
‘Yes, yes, of course, don’t let me keep you. I… I… I’m not really hungry and we’re very busy on Ker-an-Mor. Alice did invite me to stay for dinner but please give her my apologies. Besides, I can hardly sit at her table in wet clothes. I must go. I have a lot to get on with.’ It all came out in rapid garbled words.
Rosie walked away from him as if she’d lost interest. ‘Goodbye then,’ she said, and left him alone in the dairy.
All the way to the top of Trecath-en valley Matthias cursed himself. Why was it that he, who could talk so long and eloquently on God and salvation, and offer wise counsel to those many years his senior, could not simply ask a girl to look on him as a suitor? Why did he get embarrassed and tongue-tied and behave like a clumsy oaf? ‘You’ll lose her!’ he angrily warned himself.
Fiercely pulling his nag to a halt he threw back his head at the sky and cried with real anguish, ‘Oh God! I can’t stand any more of this!’
He rode back to the farmyard at full pelt, jumped off his horse before it stopped moving and burst into the kitchen. The Trenchards, seated round the table, looked up in surprise. Marching straight up to Rosie he hauled her to her feet.
‘I’m no good at this courting business, Rosie Trenchard, but I want you to know this very minute that I love you with all my heart and I want you to be my wife and I don’t want to live another minute of my life without you. I’m going now but I’ll be back at the same time tomorrow for my answer, yes or no.’
He let her go so abruptly Rosie fell back on her chair and was gone before she could catch her breath.
He wanted to gallop off without delay but his nag had walked across the yard and was drinking from the trough. Matthias went over to it and patted its back. He watched the animal drinking with his head bent, breathing in deep lungfuls of air to stop the dizziness in his head. He tried not to think about what he had just done. Better to concentrate only on his breathing and go home. When the nag lifted its head he began to mount, then stopped. Rosie was standing a few feet away. She did not move or speak. She just stood and looked steadily at him.
‘Rosie…’
He held out a hand to her then dropped it. She put a hand up to her hair and quickly lowered it. They seemed to be standing on the edge of time.
She took a single step towards him.
Instinctively, he did the same.
She ran straight into his receiving arms. He held her close as could be. Although he had never kissed anyone before Matthias found her lips as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Warm, dizzy waves of ecstasy joined them together in their first kiss and when it ended it was an experience they both wanted again and again.
When he could find his voice at last, he breathed, ‘I can’t believe it. Oh Rosie, does this mean I won’t have to come back for my answer tomorrow?’
‘You can have it now if you like,’ she said softly, her head tucked in under his chin.
His shyness and awkwardness were gone now she was in his arms. He moved both hands behind her neck and entwined his fingers in her hair, moving them down gently, down and down until all the glossy mane was loosened from the plait. The ribbon at the end fell away to the dusty ground and her hair was free. And so was Matthias. Free to touch and lift and swirl the glorious crowning beauty of the girl he loved. He looked into her face.
‘I’ve had such a miserable time trying to get close to you and tell you how I feel, but I can say it now. I love you, Rosie, and I’m going to ask you again, in a proper manner this time. Rosie, will you marry me?’
‘Yes, Matthias.’ She hugged him tightly. ‘There’s nothing I’d rather do.’
After more kisses, he asked her, ‘Had you no idea I was falling in love with you?’
‘I couldn’t be sure,’ she said, smiling into his gentle eyes. ‘When you gave me those lovely flowers I hoped it was the beginning of something. But then you became all serious and treated me like a child again.’ She took something out of her apron pocket. ‘Look, I kept the purple ribbon that was round the flowers and have carried it around with me ever since. I’ve even dried some of the flowers so I could keep them for ever.’
‘I’m sorry I put you through all that. I was afraid,’ he admitted.
‘I thought p’raps you were. I wanted to give you a bit of encouragement but I was afraid it would frighten you away.’
Matthias was overwhelmed. ‘So all the time you were hoping I was interested in you?’
‘The thought that you might be took me by surprise at first, but when I got used to it I liked the idea. I knew what that gesture with the flowers must have cost you. I’ve had a really miserable time too hoping and waiting for you to say something to me, Matthias.’
He kissed a handful of her flowing hair, then her lips, before saying, ‘Seems rather silly now, the both of us being afraid and miserable all this time. I’ll make it up to you, my own sweet Rosie, and in the future we must say whatever is on our minds. Agreed?’
‘Agreed,’ Rosie said happily, kissing his chin then pressing her head against his chest. ‘I’d rather stay here like this but I daresay the twins will be out in a minute to see what we’re doing. Are you coming inside to eat?’
‘Yes, all right,’ he replied, putting a hand behind himself to tug at his wet breeches. ‘The others will think I’ve fallen in the horse trough. But I’m not going in before one, no, two more kisses first.’
Rosie returned his wonderful passionate kisses then took his arm as they walked back to the farmhouse kitchen.
She said happily, ‘If I’d thought a dip in the water trough as well would have got you to propose to me, Matthias Renfree, I would have pushed you in there myself.’