Pennyroyal (14 page)

“Don’t stop,” she murmured. “It’s wonderful. Where did you learn to massage like this?”

“Would you believe China?” he said.

“No.”

“Physiotherapy after an accident?”

“Perhaps. Take your choice. The truth is both.”

Cassy could not trust herself to speak. Jake Everand’s fingers were mesmerising her into silence. His presence behind her chair, big and close, was thawing the lump of ice inside her.

“I was halfway home when I called you. Don’t you want to know why I’ve come back?”

“No.”

“No? You’re usually bursting with curiosity. Don’t you know any other word?”

“No.”

She heard a wicked chuckle as he bent towards her.

“Then you won’t want me to go without a kiss?”

He took her face in his hands, tracing her lips with his mouth. The room seemed to vanish and Cassy felt the shock waves pulsing through her, against all sense and all good reason. He lifted her high in his strong arms and drew her against his body, their skins burning from the touch, her ragged breath lost in the warm insistence of his kiss.

Chapter Eight

Cassy closed her eyes in waves of pleasure. It had been a day of swings and roundabouts and Jake’s unexpected arrival back at Ridge House sapped the last of her resistance.

“I don’t think this is very sensible,” she murmured as his hands tangled in her hair and his lips nibbled the lobe of her ear in a delightfully intimate way.

“I’m taking advantage of your temporarily sweet and docile nature,” he said, “before you start yelling at me and socking me on the jaw. And don’t glare. I know you’re quite capable.”

“I never yell,” she protested weakly. She did not want to move but she knew his hands were drugging her into another world. A world that was dominated by his hard body against her and the warm tingling kisses that could make her heart plunge.

“Oh no? How about all that yelling down the phone at me? What was that? Did I imagine it?”

“I never…I didn’t…”

Jake silenced her with a finger against her mouth. “No more fighting, remember? That’s what you said. You’ve got a rotten memory, Miss Ridgeway.”

Cassy struggled to free herself, pushing against his rock hard chest. But Jake just laughed and spun her round, carrying her over to the chair and putting her firmly on his lap.

“I don’t believe in having important conversations over the telephone,” he went on, his voice taut and measured. “It’s too easy for simple misunderstandings to turn into a full scale row. I came back to sort things out with you and put a few facts straight. You’re too important to me in every way.”

Cassy felt her head spinning. She was important to him? She did not want any more conflict. She wanted them to be like this always, to stay friends, even if they became lovers.

“Important, Jake? Am I important to you? Do you really mean that?”

“I never say anything I don’t mean,” he said. “You should know that. Okay, you’re an annoying, prickly, stubborn and independent young woman, and I can’t fathom why I like you.”

“That’s it. That’s enough,” said Cassy, struggling.

Jake gave his deep, short laugh. “Take it easy, sweetheart, and sit still. Let me tell you a story. Would you like me to tell you a good-night story?”

Cassy relaxed against him. His shoulder was a comforting pillow and she could see his dark, jutting jaw just above her nose. The tangy scent of his aftershave still clung to his skin.

“Is the story about my grandfather and Lewis Everand?”

“Yes.”

Cassy sighed and settled deeper into his arms. She would forgive him anything so long as he told her the truth and trusted her with the facts.

“I’m ready, I’m waiting and I’m listening,” said Cassy demurely, planting a kiss on the underside of his rough chin.

She had never looked so beautiful, her skin pale and luminous, her long hair laying untamed over his chest. She smelt perfect, clean and fresh but with a subtle perfume that was all woman. Jake knew her skin would be perfect everywhere, and he longed to discover that perfection.

“Once upon a time there was a boy, an only son, and he was pretty lonely, despite his family giving him everything he wanted. He was about eight years old when his parents gave him a pony. He was big for his age and determined to ride it all by himself.”

“That sounds familiar,” Cassy murmured under her breath. “I know someone just as pig-headed.”

“He decided to ride out of Kettlehulme and across the fields up onto the moors. In no time at all, he was lost.”

“I know that feeling, too . . .”

“Fortunately young Lewis was near Ridge House when Thomas Ridgeway found him. That’s how they met.”

“And they became great friends?”

“Not immediately. Apparently young Thomas Ridgeway challenged Lewis for trespassing, and they had the first of many fights, but by the time they arrived at Ridge House, bruised and bleeding, they were like brothers. Lewis was six years younger than Tom but he was a big lad and it made little difference. They went everywhere together, fighting, brawling, arguing, but inseparable. As young men their ways parted, but they were always friends. Your grandfather continued farming at Ridge House, and my father went to college to become a mining engineer.”

“A mining engineer?” Cassy was amazed.

Jake Everand did not answer right away. He was not sure how Cassy was going to take the next part of the story. She was going to have a hard time.

“Yes, that’s right. Mining. Lewis was going into the family business.”

A small tremor sent a chill through her though her body was on fire with his closeness.

“I’ve a feeling you are going to tell me something I won’t like,” said Cassy.

“Pennyroyal. It belonged to the Everands. We were the original leadmasters. It was a thriving and prosperous mine for several generations. There were rich seams and the canal system of transporting the ore made it famous. It supplied work for most of the menfolk in Netherdale.”

Cassy stiffened, her mind reeling.
Pride of Pennyroyal.
Now she understood. It was the Everand family motto. And the heraldic device over the front door…that small mauve flower was the wild pennyroyal, an aromatic and medicinal herb which had given its name to the lead mine.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked in a low, grating voice. “Why did you pretend not to know anything about Pennyroyal when it’s obvious that you know a great deal? You should have told me. I had a right to know.”

“What difference would it have made? The Everand family lost control of Pennyroyal in the late forties long before I was even born. Don’t start blaming me for things that happened years and years ago.”

“How do you know? What things? What happened? How did my grandfather come to own Pennyroyal?” Jake was keeping infuriatingly calm, which started her wondering how he felt. “Do you hate me for having Pennyroyal? I suppose you feel it should belong to you, back in the Everand family?”

As she spoke, a terrible, niggling suspicion flashed into her mind. Perhaps Jake Everand did want the mine; perhaps he would do anything to take control again, even to the extent of pretending to love someone who at first had irritated him intensely.

But she was selling Pennyroyal. He had advised her to sell. It was all too confusing.

“My dear girl, I have no sentimental attachment to the mine. There’s no lead in it. It’s worked out. I have a very rewarding and satisfying career at a high professional level which takes me to every part of the world. Why should I want to saddle myself with a financial burden which would probably bankrupt me in eighteen months?”

The force of her anger drained away. She believed him. So Pennyroyal once belonged to the Everands. She could handle that. And it made sense. Kettlehulme had once been the largest estate in that part of Derbyshire, and it followed that the family should own the local mine.

The fire had gone out and the gloom would have been unfriendly if she had been alone. She wanted to disperse the chill of isolation. Tentatively she touched his face. He turned her hand and put a small kiss in the soft palm with a sudden tenderness that was almost her undoing.

“Am I forgiven for being related to the former owners of Pennyroyal?” he teased mockingly. “I could change my name if that would make you feel happier. Smith? Brown? Sjaarstad?”

“Who told you all this? You said it happened before you were born and you never knew your father.”

“The missing lady, of course,” said Jake with a half grin. “The lady neither of us has mentioned yet, and who is living in happy retirement in Cornwall, whom I adore and live with, on and off. My mother, Fiona Everand.”

“Your mother…” Cassy breathed, remembering the dark-haired woman in the wedding photograph.

She was the link with the past.

“She remembers about Pennyroyal although she was not a local girl. She met Lewis while she and her parents were on a walking holiday in Derbyshire. They kept the friendship going with letters over the years and met occasionally in London; it was a marriage that took everyone by surprise apparently.”

“I’ve seen their wedding photograph,” said Cassy. “They looked very happy. My grandfather was their best man.”

“Naturally. The two men were like brothers. But after Lewis Everand died, my mother found it difficult to live on at Kettlehulme. There was no money. The house was falling down and impossible to keep warm. When I was born, Fiona returned to her parents’ home in Cornwall, taking me with her. She went back to her teaching post, living on in the house where she spent her childhood and where I then spent mine.”

“But Mrs. Hadlow says that you’re a Derbyshireman through and through,” Cassy interrupted.

“It’s in the blood. I inherited Kettlehulme from my father. But don’t forget I’ve Cornish blood too. It’s a formidable combination.”

“I can believe that.” She moved, dislodging her hair, which Jake brushed back from her face. She felt totally exposed to his direct gaze. His eyes were burning like a brand and she could read the undisguised desire on his face. He wanted her and she wanted him.

“Shall I go on?” Cassy knew that Jake was referring to Pennyroyal, and she nodded, wishing that he had meant their lovemaking. “You’re going to find it harder to take the rest of the story and it doesn’t get any easier for me to tell you.”

“Go on. I want to know everything.”

For the first time Jake Everand seemed disconcerted. She slipped herself closer into his arms, hoping her nearness would give him comfort. He planted a kiss on her forehead almost absent-mindedly.

“When Lewis began courting Fiona, Thomas was already a widower with a young daughter. Kettlehulme had been allowed to deteriorate as the lead ran out in Pennyroyal; the money was not there for essential repairs. Every penny went back into the mine as Lewis tried desperately to make a living from it. He should have cut his losses and turned to farming Kettlehulme, but he was obsessed by Pennyroyal. Instead, he sold off parcels of land to gain capital which all went into the mine.”

“But I can understand how he loved it. It was his heritage,” said Cassy. “Pennyroyal is a fascinating place.”

“There’s nothing fascinating about an ancient hole in the ground that doesn’t help to pay the bills.” Jake’s mouth hardened. “Then he wanted to get married. His house was hardly a young bride’s dream. He needed more capital, and fast, but the banks refused to give him a loan. Lewis was desperate and in that desperation he turned to the one person he knew would not let him down.”

“Thomas Ridgeway.”

“Yes, your grandfather lent him the money. He mortgaged Ridge House and the land and gave the money to Lewis Everand. It was the ultimate in friendship.”

Slowly, painfully, Cassy shuddered at the extent of the involvement between the two families. She knew instinctively what had happened next.

“So Lewis Everand gave Grandfather the deeds to Pennyroyal even though the mine was worthless, is that it?” asked Cassy, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

The debt had never been repaid. Her grandfather had been short of money all his life; he had spent the rest of his working days paying off that mortgage. That was the kind of friend her grandfather would have been…uncomplaining, loyal and generous.

“Yes, your grandfather held the deeds to the mine. Perhaps the sale of the mine will pay off any remaining debts.”

“A bit late to do my grandfather any good, don’t you think?” Cassy snapped. “Why wasn’t some effort made to repay the loan? Kettlehulme could have been sold surely?”

“I knew you would react this way and I don’t blame you,” said Jake, with a pain that matched her own. “Thomas Ridgeway was a great man and a great friend. I admire him with all my heart and that’s another reason why I’m angry about your callous treatment of him. He deserved better.”

Cassy said nothing. She was not ready to tell anyone, not even Jake Everand, of her promise to Alician.

“So? What did you do to put things right?”

“Nothing, because I didn’t know the full story of the loan. My mother only told me about it a few weeks ago when she heard that Thomas Ridgeway had died. Cassy, it all happened so long ago… We can’t right all the wrongs. My mother thought Thomas Ridgeway was happy to receive the mine in exchange; she was unaware that he had mortgaged Ridge House to raise the money.”