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Authors: Victoria Holt

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense, #General, #Gothic, #Cornwall (England : County), #Married People, #Romantic Suspense Fiction

Bride of Pendorric (3 page)

BOOK: Bride of Pendorric
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I had to turn and smile at him then. Surely, I thought, the look he gave me was one of love.

We were happy and carefree when we swam, and later, as we lay in the sun on the beach, I felt once more that supreme happiness which is being in love.

Yet two days later I came in from the market and found’ them sitting at the card table. The game was finished but I could see by my father’s face that he had lost and by Roe’s that he had won. I felt my cheeks flame and my eyes were hard as I looked into Roe’s face. I said nothing but went straight into the kitchen with my basket. I set it down angrily and to my dismay found my eyes full of tears. Tears of fury, I told myself, because he had made a fool of me. He was not to be trusted. This was a clear indication of it; he promised one thing and did another.

I wanted to rush out of the studio, to find some quiet spot away from everyone where I could stay until I was calm enough to face him again.

I heard a voice behind me: ” What can I do to help?”

I turned and faced him. I was grateful that the tears had not fallen.

They were merely making my eyes look more brilliant, and he should not guess how wretched I was.

I said shortly: ” Nothing. I can manage, thank you.”

I turned back to the table and then I felt him standing close to me;

he had gripped my shoulders and was laughing.

He put his face close to my ear and whispered: “I kept my promise, you know. We didn’t play for money.”

I shook him off and went to a drawer of the table which I opened and rummaged in without knowing for what.

” Nonsense,” I retorted. ” The game wouldn’t have meant a thing to either of you if there’d been no stakes. It isn’t that you enjoy

playing cards. It’s win or lose. And of course you c both think that you’re going to win every time. It seems absurdly childish to me. One of you has to lose.”

” But you must understand that I kept my promise.”

” Please don’t bother to explain. I can trust my eyes you know.”

“We were gambling . certainly. You’re right when you said it wouldn’t interest us if we were not. Who do you think won this time?”

” I have a meal to prepare.”

” I won this.” He put his hand in his pocket and drew out the statuette.

Then he laughed. ” I determined to get it by fair means or foul.

Fortunately it turned out to be fair. So you see I kept my promise to you, I had my gamble, and I own this delightful creature. “

” Take the knives and forks’ for me, will you please?” I said. He slipped the statue into his pocket and grinned at me. ” With the greatest pleasure.”

The next day he asked me to marry him. At his suggestion we had climbed the steep path to the Grotto of Matromania. I had always thought it the least exciting of the grottoes and the Blue, Green, Yellow and Red or the Grotto of the Saints were all more worth a visit, but Roe said he had not seen it and wanted me to take him there.

” A very appropriate spot,” he commented when we reached it. I turned to look at him and he caught my arm and held it tightly.

“Why?” I asked.

” You know,” he replied.

But I was never sure of him—not even at this moment when he regarded me with so much tenderness.

” Matromania,” he murmured.

” I’d heard that this was dedicated to Mittiromania known as Mithras,” I said quickly because I was afraid of betraying my feelings. ” Nonsense,” he replied. ” This is where Tiberius held his revels for young men and maidens. I read it in the guidebook. It means matrimony because they married here.”

” There seem to be two opinions then.”

” Then we’d better give it another reason for its importance. It’s the spot where Petroc Pendorric asked Favel Farington-‘to marry him and where she said …”

He turned to me and in that moment I was certain he loved me as passionately as I loved him.

There was no need for me to answer.

We went back to the studio; he was elated and I was happier than I had ever been before.

Father was so delighted when we told him the news that it was almost as though he wished to get rid of me. He refused to discuss what he would do when I had gone, and I was terribly worried until Roe told me that he would insist on his accepting an allowance. Why shouldn’t he from his own son-in-law? He’d commission some pictures if that would make it easier. Perhaps that would be a good idea. ” We’ve lots of bare wall space at Pendorric,” he added.

And for the first time I began to think seriously about the place which would be my home; but although Roe was always ready to talk of it in general, he said he wanted me to see it and judge for myself. If he talked to me too much I might imagine something entirely different and perhaps be disappointed—though I couldn’t believe I could be disappointed in a home I shared with him.

We were very much in love. Roe seemed no longer a stranger. I felt I understood him. There was a streak of mischief in him and he loved to tease me. ” Because,” he told me once, ” you’re too serious, too old-fashioned in many ways to be true.”

I pondered on that and supposed I was different from girls he had known, because of my upbringing—the intimate family circle, the school which was run on the same lines as it had been twenty or thirty years before. Also, of course, I had felt my responsibilities deeply when my mother had died. I must learn to be more lighthearted, gay, up-to-date, I told myself.

Our wedding was going to be very quiet; there would be a few guests from the English colony, and Roe and I were going to stay at the studio for a week afterwards; then we were to go to England. I asked him what his family would think of his returning with a bride they had never met.

” I’ve written and told them we’ll soon be home. They’re not so surprised as you imagine. One thing they have learned to expect from me is the unexpected,” he replied cheerfully. ” They’re wild with delight. You see they think it’s the duty of all Pendorrics to marry, and they believe I’ve waited long enough.”

I wanted to hear more about them. I wanted to be prepared, but he always put me off.

” I’m not very good at describing things,” he answered. ” You’ll be there soon enough.”

” But this Pendorric … I gather it is something of a mansion.”

” It’s the family home. I suppose you could call it that.”

“And … who is the family?”

” My sister, her husband, their twin daughters. You don’t have to worry, you know. They won’t be in our wing. It’s a family custom that all who can, remain at home, and bring their families to live there.”

” And it’s near the sea.”

” Right on the coast. You’re going to love it. All Pendorrics do, and you’ll be one of them very soon.”

I think it was about a week before my wedding day that I noticed the change in my father.

I came in quietly one day and found him sitting at the table staring ahead of him, and because he had not seen me for a few moments I caught him in repose ; he looked suddenly old; and more than that. frightened.

” Father,” I cried, ” what’s the matter?”

He started up and he smiled but his heart wasn’t in it ” The matter?

Why, nothing’s the matter. “

” But you were sitting there …”

“Why shouldn’t I? I’ve been working on that bust of Tiberius. It tired me.”

I accepted his excuse temporarily and forgot about it.

But not for long. My father had never been able to keep things to himself and I began to believe that he was hiding something from me, something which caused him the utmost anxiety.

One early morning, about two days before the wedding, I awoke to find someone moving about in the studio. The illuminated dial of my bedside clock said three o’clock.

I hastily ‘put on a dressing-gown, quietly opened the door of my room and, peeping out, saw a dark shadow seated at the table.

“Father!” I cried.

He started up. ” My dear child, I’ve disturbed you. It’s all right. Do go back to bed.”

I went to him and made him sit down. I drew up a chair. ” Look here,” I insisted, ” you’d better tell me what’s wrong.” He hesitated and then said: “But it’s nothing. I couldn’t sleep, so I thought it would do me good to come and sit out here for a while.”

” But why couldn’t you sleep?

“Here’s something on your mind, isn’t there?”

” I’m perfectly all right.”

” It’s no use saying that when it obviously isn’t true. Are you worried about me … about my marrying?”

Again that slight pause. Of course that’s it, I thought. Naturally he’s worried. He’s beginning to realise how he’ll miss me. He said: ” My dear child, you’re very much in love with Roe, aren’t you?”

” Yes, Father.”

” Favel … you’re sure, aren’t you?”

” Are you worried because we’ve known each other such a short while?”

He did not answer that but murmured: ” You’ll go right away from here to his place in Cornwall… to Pendorric.”

” But we’ll come to see you! And you’ll come to stay with us.”

” I

think,” he went on, and it was as though he were talking to himself, ” that if something prevented your marriage it would break your heart.


 

He stood up suddenly. ” I’m cold. Let’s get back to bed. I’m sorry I disturbed you, Favel.”

” Father, we really ought to have a talk. I wish you would tell me everything that’s on your mind.”

” You go along to bed, Favel. I’m sorry I disturbed you.” He kissed me and we went to our rooms. How often later I was to reproach myself for allowing him to evade me like that. I ought to have insisted on knowing.

There came the day when Roe and I were married and I was so overwhelmed by new and exciting experiences that I did not give a thought to what was happening to my father. I couldn’t think of anyone but myself and Roe during those days.

It was wonderful to be together every hour of the days and nights. We would laugh over trifles ; it was really the laughter of happiness which comes so easily, I discovered. Guiseppe and Umberto were delighted with us; their arias were more fervent than they used to be, and after we had left them Roe and I would imitate them, gesticulating wildly, setting our faces into tragic or comic masks, whatever the songs demanded, and because we sang out of tune we laughed the more.

He would come into the kitchen when I was cooking, to help me he said;

and he would sit on the table getting in my way until with mock exasperation I would attempt to turn him out, which always ended up by my being in his arms.

The memories of those days were to stay with me during the difficult times ahead; they sustained me when I needed to be sustained. Roe was, as I had known he would be, a passionate and demanding lover; he carried me along with him, but I often felt bemused by the rich experiences which were mine. Yet I was certain then that everything was going to be wonderful. I was content to live in the moment; I had even stopped wondering what my new home would be like ; I assured myself that my father would have nothing to worry about. Roe would take care of his future as he would take care of mine. Then one day I went down to the market alone and came back sooner than I had expected.

The door of the studio was open and I saw them there-my father and my husband. The expression on both their faces shocked me. Roe’s was grim; my father’s tortured. I had the impression that my father had been saying something to Roe which he did not like, and I could not tell whether Roe was angry or shocked. I imagined my father seemed bewildered.

Then they saw me and Roe said quickly: ” Here’s Favel.”

It was as though they had both drawn masks over then-faces.

“Is anything the matter?” I demanded.

” Only that we’re hungry,” answered Roe, coming over to me and taking my basket from me.

He smiled and, putting his arm round me, gave me a hug. ” It seems a long time since I’ve seen you.”

I looked beyond him to my father; he too was smiling but I thought there was a greyish tinge in his face.

“Father,” I insisted, “what is it?”

” You’re imagining things, my dear,” he assured me. I could not throw off my uneasiness but I let them persuade me that all was well, because I could not bear that anything should disturb my new and wonderful happiness.

The sun was brilliant. It had been a busy morning in the studio. My father always went down to swim while I got our midday meal, and on that day I told Roe to go with him.

” Why don’t you come too?”

” Because I have the lunch to get. I’ll do it more quickly if you two go off.”

So they went off together.

Ten minutes later Roe came back. He came into the kitchen and sat on the table. His back was to the window and I noticed the sunlight through the prominent tips of his ears.

” At times,” I said, ” you look like a satyr.”

” That’s what I am,” he told me.

“Why did you come back so soon?”

” I found I didn’t want to be separated from you any longer, so I left your father on the beach and came back alone.” I laughed at him. ” You are silly! Couldn’t you bear to be away from me for another fifteen minutes?”

” Far too long,” he said.

I was delighted to have him with me pretending to help in the kitchen, but when we were ready to eat, my father had not come back. ” I do hope he’s not got involved in some long conversation,” I said. ” He couldn’t. You know how people desert the beach for food and siesta at this time of day.”

Five minutes later I began to get really anxious; and with good reason.

That morning my father went into the sea and he did not come back alive.

His body was recovered later that day. They said he must have been overcome by cramp and unable to save himself.

It seemed the only explanation then. My happiness was shattered, but how thankful I was that I had Roe. I told him that I did not know how I could have lived through that time if he had not been with me. My great and only consolation was that, although I had lost my father.

Roe had come into my life.

It was only later that the terrible doubts began.

All the joy had naturally gone out of our honeymoon, and I could not rid myself of the fear that I had failed my father in some way. I remember lying in Roe’s arms during the night that followed and crying out: ” There was something I could have done. I know it.” Roe tried to comfort me. ” But what, my darling? How could you know that he was going to have cramp? It could happen to anybody, and, smooth as the sea was, if nobody heard his cry for help, that would be the end.”

BOOK: Bride of Pendorric
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