Читать книгу The Sweethearts Collection - Pam Jenoff - Страница 18

Chapter 8

Colenso heard a muttered oath, followed by a thud and then footsteps hurrying after her. However, when Fenton reached her side, he just smiled knowingly and took her arm.

‘The finest hotel on The Lizard,’ he announced grandly. ‘I take it you’ve not been here before?’

‘I can’t say I remember,’ Colenso replied sweetly, refusing to rise to his gibe. She could never afford to come somewhere like this and he knew it. These fine new places were springing up all over the peninsula to cater for the tourists and artists who, inspired by the beautiful serpentine gifts and unusual flora and fauna, had begun descending in their droves. They had money to spend and the hotels were quick to capitalize on it.

A blast of warmth hit them as they entered the grand foyer with its plush red carpets and huge log fire blazing in the ornate stone fireplace. A man sporting a dark uniform with a red waistcoat hurried to greet them and, much to Colenso’s consternation, insisted he take their outer garments.

‘Won’t feel the benefit when you go outside again, else,’ he whispered, seeing her dismay. ‘Your table is ready for you, Mr Fenton,’ he announced, showing them through to a private lounge overlooking the water where another fire was burning brightly, this time in a magnificent fireplace of green serpentine. Colenso stared around the smallish room with its solitary table set for two. For the second time that afternoon, she vowed to eat as quickly as she could, and when the waiter appeared bearing a tray laden with triangles of sandwiches, scones, cream and jam, she realized it would be no hardship. And the Ferret couldn’t expect her to make conversation because it was rude to talk with your mouth full, wasn’t it?

However, she hadn’t bargained for Mr Fenton’s own table manners. Apart from ensuring her plate was never empty, he tucked into his own food, staring thoughtfully out across the bay. It was only when they were sipping their tea that he spoke.

‘Well, that was delicious, don’t you think?’ he asked, leaning so close she caught the tang of his lemony cologne. However, he was more interested in trying to peer through the oyster spider-gauze covering her blouse than in her answer. Instinctively she sat back in her seat and his lips curled into a smirk.

‘I expect this is rather different to the way you normally spend your Sunday afternoons.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed, thinking that, however lavish the food had been, it was the company that mattered and she’d rather be sharing a picnic of stale bread and cheese with Kitto.

‘This could become a regular occurrence, you know,’ he told her, nodding his head as if to add weight to his words. She watched the whiskers beneath his nose bob up and down and thought how much like a ferret he really did look. Then when he removed a pristine handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his lips with paw-like hands, she had to turn away before she burst out laughing.

‘I understand that it was Mr Rowse who did the turning on your, er, craft works, Colenso,’ he said. The tone of his voice told her this was more than a casual remark and she sobered immediately.

‘Er, yes,’ she replied, endeavouring to keep her voice steady.

‘And a splendid job he did too,’ he smiled.

‘Kitto is very talented and wants to become a master craftsman,’ she told him proudly. Henry Fenton studied her for a long moment.

‘Like him much, do you?’ Colenso nodded and his expression hardened. However, the next moment he was smiling again.

‘I too am an ambitious man, my dear. And when I set my heart on something, I do anything and everything to make sure I get it.’ He paused and stared at her, grey eyes like pebbles. Suddenly she felt the necklace tighten and put her hand to her chest to stop it from digging in. He flushed, his eyes widening as they followed her movement. Cursing silently, she placed her hands in her lap.

‘You were telling me about your plans,’ she reminded him. He continued staring for another moment before raising his head.

‘It is my intention to have a showroom built at Poltesco similar to the one we already have in London. Obviously, it will exhibit only the finest quality pieces.’

‘You mean I can continue with my work, then?’ Colenso asked excitement rising, for she missed the satisfaction she derived from seeing the dull stone turn into useful items gleaming with vibrancy.

‘Alas, no. Quite apart from the fact there will be no more offcuts, as you call them, the works I have in mind will be of a more exclusive nature. Ornamental clocks, tables, barometers, decorative vases, bowls, tazzas, that kind of thing. Resplendent polished red serpentine placed on plinths, they will complement our larger works of mantlepieces and shopfronts handsomely. Anyway, my dear, we are here to get better acquainted not to talk shop,’ he smiled, sitting back in his seat. Remembering her brother had asked her to find out as much as she could about his plans for the works, Colenso returned his smile.

‘Actually, Mr, er … Henry, I find your plans most interesting. Won’t all this mean you’ll need to have extra stone quarried?’ His face lit up and he leaned closer again.

‘You are one canny woman, Colenso. It does indeed and everyone will benefit. The quarrying of extra stone will mean more money for the workers.’

‘All of them?’ she ventured, remembering what Tomas had told her about the dissent amongst the men.

‘Well, no, we have to show a profit, and the works already pay the highest wages around these parts. However, the exhibits required for the showroom could mean more for Mr Rowse, as long as he stops bleating about the stone failing. I mean, I ask you, do you know what serpentine is made of?’ he laughed.

‘Actually, I do, Henry,’ she grinned, grateful that Kitto had explained it to her. ‘Basically, it’s composed of three elements: magnesium, silicate, and water trapped in its hydrated crystals,’ she told him. There was silence as he stared at her in astonishment.

‘Er, yes, precisely,’ he murmured. Then, seeming to remember his point, he continued. ‘As I reminded young Rowse, the church towers here on The Lizard have stood the test of time for four hundred years or more. They’ve endured gales, rain, and fog not to mention the hot sun, so I think that rather proves my point.’ He sat back in his chair, smiling benignly. Eager to wipe the complacent look from his face, she shook her head.

‘There was an article on the subject in the Illustrated London News, pointing out that here on The Lizard we don’t suffer the same frosty weather as the cities and …’ she stuttered to a halt as he held up his hand.

‘No more shop talk, please,’ he insisted, holding up his hand. ‘What did you think of my humble abode, Colenso?’ She could tell by the tone of his voice, he thought his home anything but modest.

‘Lovely, Mr, er … Henry,’ she assured him.

‘And could be lovelier still. I believe I already mentioned it needs a woman’s touch. So what do you think, Colenso, could you be she?’ he asked, staring fixedly at her like an animal with prey in its sights.

‘I don’t think Mrs Grim would take kindly to any of my suggestions,’ Colenso replied. To her surprise, he roared with laughter, his shoulders shaking.

‘My dear girl,’ he spluttered. ‘Mrs Grim is an employee and does as she’s bid. She’s there to work not pass opinion.’ Is that so, Colenso thought, remembering the housekeeper’s disdainful manner, but the Ferret was in his stride. ‘You have a good if somewhat modest taste in clothes, so I’m sure you will know better than I which draperies will benefit my house. Dobson will collect you next Sunday and then you can see what you think. I’ll get Mrs Grim to lay on a proper afternoon tea. Where I come from we have fruit cake accompanied by a goodly slice of strong cheese.’ As he sat back in his chair with a satisfied grin, the clock chimed the hour and the waiter reappeared.

‘May I get you anything else, madam, sir?’ he asked.

‘No thank you,’ Fenton replied, waving him away. Seizing the opportunity, Colenso jumped to her feet.

‘We are just leaving, thank you,’ she said, making her way quickly towards the door and out to the foyer.

During the journey home, she steered the conversation back to the works, asking question after question about his plans so that by the time they drew up outside her cottage, he hadn’t had the opportunity to return to their previous conversation. However, as she made to jump down, he caught her arm.

‘I have enjoyed this afternoon, my dear. You have proven to be very good company and I shall look forward to hearing your ideas for improving my house next Sunday afternoon.’

‘Ah yes, about that. I’ll ask Mamm to accompany me, she has more experience of these things,’ she told him sweetly. He frowned and cast a sceptical look in the direction of their tumbledown cottage.

‘Very well, if you insist,’ he acquiesced. Then, as relief flooded through her, he added: ‘But remember you are still indebted for my not handing you over to the authorities, and Henry Fenton always ensures his debts get repaid,’ he said, patting her knee. She was about to protest when her father’s voice boomed out.

‘Mr Fenton, sir, I thought it was you sat outside in your fine conveyance.’

‘Thank you for a lovely afternoon, Mr Fenton,’ Colenso said quickly, taking the opportunity to jump down from the trap.

‘Till next Sunday, Colenso Carne,’ he replied, tipping his hat. Leaving them talking, she hurried indoors.

‘Did you have a good afternoon?’ her mother asked, looking up from her darning. Colenso was saved from answering by the clattering of the latch as her father appeared.

‘He’s calling for her again next Sunday,’ he told Caja, rubbing his hands with glee. ‘I’ll break open that new bottle of brandy we got, er, given,’ he chuckled.

‘Well done, you’ve obviously made a good impression,’ her mother smiled, turning back to Colenso.

‘He just wants a woman’s opinion on his draperies, Mother. I volunteered your services too, so you’ll be accompanying me.’

‘Well, it’s a start, I suppose,’ Caja frowned. ‘And if you do a good job on his home and he sees how well you look in it, well …’

‘I’m tired and going to bed,’ Colenso interrupted, unable to listen to any more of her mamm’s scheming. ‘I promised Emily I’d go in early tomorrow and help with her orders and I intend going,’ she told them. To her surprise her father nodded.

‘Good idea, then you can nab another bit of that silk, maid. This time though, make a top without that netting stuff over it.’

‘Yes, you can’t be seen out with the works manager wearing the same blouse,’ her mamm added. Colenso shook her head. All her life she’d been told to make what she had last, and now she was expected to produce a new top each week. Well, she wouldn’t be asking Emily for any more material, she was already in her debt as it was.

✳

‘And neither should yer have to, maid,’ Emily agreed. ‘A man should takes yer as yer is, not worry about what yer wearing.’ They were sitting by the fire, taking their noontime break after a frantic morning of cutting, sewing and pressing, and Emily had asked how her afternoon with Fenton had gone. ‘Them parents of yers wants shooting, if yer don’t mind me saying. Keep within yer own class and cut yer coat according to yer cloth, I say. Mind yer, I was asked this morning if I was interested in some French lace,’ she winked. Colenso smiled.

‘I was relieved to have that gauze covering my blouse. If Ferret Fenton’s nose got any closer I’d have smacked it.’ Emily eyed her sharply.

‘Don’t you let him take no liberties, maid.’

‘I won’t, don’t you worry, though he gets so close I can smell him. It gives me the shivers.’ Emily looked thoughtful for a moment.

‘Yer grandmother used to hum a tune if a person she didn’t like got too near. She said it cast a ring of protection round her.’

‘You’re right, she did,’ Colenso exclaimed, remembering how she used to do that when Father was pontificating. ‘I’ll try it. My singing’s that bad it will send anyone fleeing to the moors anyway,’ she grinned.

‘Well, there yer are, then,’ Emily chuckled.

‘Would it be all right if I finish early this afternoon? I promise to come in again tomorrow. Kitto didn’t turn up for our meeting the other evening and then Father banned me from leaving the cottage. I need to tell him about yesterday before he hears it from someone else. You know what Father’s like once he’s had a drink. He’ll have exaggerated everything out of proportion and I don’t want Kitto getting the wrong idea.’ Emily nodded.

‘Be sure he understands yer his girl. He’s a good ’un, is young Kitto, and yer’ll do well together. Yer’ll need to finish that skirt for Mrs Tallis before yer leaves, mind. Can’t afford to have my reputation ruined, young love or not.’

✳

And love was the crux of the matter, Colenso mused as she hurried down the lane later that afternoon. Kitto was her beloved. He was young and attractive, but most of all he set her pulses racing whilst the Ferret was ancient and repulsed her. If only she’d stuck up for herself more forcefully when he accused her of theft she wouldn’t feel like a fly trapped in a web with the silken thread tightening around her.

Whilst it was heartening that the evenings were beginning to draw out, she didn’t want her father to see her. As soon as she heard the ring of scutes on the rocky path and the workers began appearing, weary and dirty after their long day’s work, she slipped into the shadows of the hedges. She frowned as they passed by, for some were arguing whilst others earnestly voiced their opinions. What could have upset these equable workers, she wondered. Usually they’d be keen to get home to their supper. Her musings were interrupted by a piercing whistle and she stared around in surprise. Then it came again and she saw Kitto beckoning to her from behind a large elm tree.

‘What are you doing?’ she whispered, slipping over to join him.

‘Coming to see you but I daren’t risk bumping into your father.’ He fell silent as the next huddle of men noisily passed by. ‘He’s been trying to cause trouble with Fenton,’ he continued, his voice low.