A Fateful Wind (8 page)

Chapter Nine

“Where’s Jack” Lady Emmeline took a sip of wine from her chiseled crystal glass and surveyed the well spread dinner table in front of her.

“Still up at the mines I expect,” her husband mumbled, rubbing his neck.

“Busy night my darling?” Sarcasm clouded her tone.

Lord Edwin eyed her with contempt. “Yes, Emmeline, something you would know little of.”

“The rooster was crowing by the time you and Jack returned home from goodness knows where in Plymouth.” She rather enjoyed seeing him suffer from his gluttonous night of boozing and no sleep.

“How very observant of you, my dear.”

“It always interests me so how age can be such a burden to nighttime pursuits,” Emmeline said absentmindedly.

“Whatever are you talking about woman?”

The irritation in his voice amused her. “Well, there’s Jack who undoubtedly enjoyed the same libations as you, only he has spent the day full of energy and high spirits. Then there’s you, my poor, poor aging husband who, after one night, is ready to curl up in a ball and die. Poor love, how you must hanker for your lost youth on days such as these.”

Edwin sneered across the table.

“More stew darling? You must keep your energy up.” Emmeline enjoyed watching her husband struggle with the pungent lamb stew she intentionally had placed before him.

“No, thank you, my sweet,” he replied between gritted teeth.

* * * *

Jack hurried across the moorland pathway. He hoped to have been home in time for supper, but the time with Jenna flew by so quickly that before he knew it his gold pocket watch read almost seven. She looked up in fright, mumbled something about her father worrying and unwrapped herself from his arms, promising to meet him again the next day in the little shed. Oh, how they talked and talked and talked. She listened with rapture at his tales of America, asking so many questions and wanting to hear every detail of how people in America dressed, what they ate, how their houses were built. He was enamored by her curiosity and most of all by her intelligence, so strange for an uneducated servant girl. He asked her about it, where she learned to read and write and how she knew so much of the world finding it unusual for a common girl such as she.

“Lady Emmeline requests it of her personal servants.” Jenna told him, adding that her employer arranged lessons for her from the time she was a young girl.

“So she groomed you to work for her from a young age?” he asked, perplexed slightly by Lady Emmeline’s interest in the girl.

Jenna nodded. “My mother, an excellent seamstress, worked on occasion for Lady Emmeline. Whenever she went up to the manor she would take me with her. I suppose Lady Emmeline grew to like me as a child and wanted me to work for her when I turned fourteen.”

As Jack walked home, he thought of Lady Emmeline. He supposed not having any children of her own and seeing Jenna as a young girl brought out some maternal instinct of her own.
How could anyone not want to protect such a delicate beauty such as Jenna anyway
? he pondered , remembering once again the touch of her lips on his.

During their time together he broached the topic of her impending marriage, but at the mention of it, her spirits dampened so considerably he changed the subject. But he was determined to tackle it sooner rather than later. He felt it was this that was making Jenna so sad, but he had no intention of breaking up a common servant girl’s engagement. What good would come if it? Yes, he felt a surge of emotion for her, a surge of love, but as he reminded himself, he didn’t even know her properly. Anyway, soon he would be leaving. She would be getting married. Why not enjoy himself for the few weeks left in Cornwall? Tomorrow he would broach the subject again. Ah, tomorrow! How his heart raced with excitement at the thought of it.

Jack made his way toward the dining room at Penrose Manor and opened the door quickly. He felt famished, barely able to eat anything all day at the thought of seeing Jenna that afternoon. But the smell of lamb stew wafting through the old stone house caused his stomach to give a ravenous growl.

“I am so sorry I am late.” He took off his hat and sat across from Lady Emmeline.

“Never mind, Jack. You’re here now,” Lady Emmeline replied warmly, beckoning at her servant to fill his plate. “I am glad to see you’re not afflicted with the same illness my husband is.”

Jack glanced over at his cousin, whose grey pallor and dark circles under his eyes belied his night of excessive fancies. For a fleeting moment he felt rather sorry for him. “No, Lady Emmeline. I am afraid I have been stricken with the same hangover as well. I thought a brisk walk up to the mines might clear my head, but I am afraid the only thing it has cleared is my appetite!”

A slow smile crossed Edwin’s face.

“Honestly, I would have thought the two of you would have known better than to let so much ale and whisky pass your lips. I suppose I shall have to cancel the game of cards I set up for this evening then?” she asked with a sigh.

“I’m sorry to say I think an early night is in store for us, right, cousin?” Jack smiled over at his cousin, who nodded in agreement.

“Tis a good idea Jack. But we must endeavor to satiate my good wife’s lust for gambling tomorrow eve, else she will find us terrible bores.”

Chapter Ten

Jenna rushed through her work day, counting the hours, the minutes and finally the seconds until she could escape the confines of Penrose House and find herself wrapped, once more, in Jack’s arms. She barely paid any regards to Lord Edwin as he hovered perversely at the end of the corridor, his sly sneer only evoking a wave of disgust inside her rather than the normal fear she felt. The thought of Jack seemed to engulf her in a cloak of security, replacing the anxious fear of the past few weeks.

As the mantelpiece clock struck five, she held herself back from sprinting away from the manor. Instead, she demurely exited, savoring the excited knot in her stomach and the pleasurable ache between her thighs. As promised, Jack sat inside the hidden shed. A slow smile crossed his face as she entered.

“Jenna.” He stood, bringing her into his embrace as she lifted her lips to his. No words were exchanged as he undid the strap of her bonnet, his fingers unpinning her tight braid. He ran his hands through the silken strands, spreading them like a veil around her face. The desire inside her belly heightened as he brought one hand down, cupping her breast. She groaned as he moved his hands around her waist, lifting her from the ground. Wrapping her legs around him, he slowly lowered himself onto the bench, moving her closer on top of the hardness beneath his trousers.

“Mmm, I’ve missed you,” he murmured as her hips gyrated against him, her aroused body pulsating with desire. She could feel the creamy wetness between her legs, taut nipples rubbing uncomfortably against her woolen dress, begging to be set free. With languid fingers, she traced the outline of his lips before she brought them on top of her own once more, their tongues greeting each other with a familiar touch.

She arched her hips against him, wanting more, wanting his hands to continue roaming over her receptive body. She felt somewhat surprised and disappointed when he drew his mouth away.

“I am trying to hold myself back, Jenna.” His voice sounded gruff with pent up desire. “I don’t trust myself to just kiss you. I want so much more.”

“So do I. It feels so natural doesn’t it?”

“Too natural. It’s almost as though I have known you all my life. And yet I know little of you and you of me.”

“I know soon you will leave Cornwall.” Sadness swept over her at the thought of his return to America.

“And you will soon be married?”

Jenna seized up at the directness of Jack’s question and the mention of her fiancé. It seemed wrong to be talking about her feelings for Trystan. She felt embarrassed and very ashamed of herself to be cradled in the arms of another man with her wedding only a couple of weeks away.

“Do you love him? Is he what you want?”

She noticed a flicker of emotion move through his eyes as she finally nodded. What else could she say? She knew a future with Jack would not be possible. Since their meeting yesterday, she told herself nothing could come of the union. It was a brief fling of forbidden passion, a passion she felt determined would not develop into more poignant. At least he temporarily quelled her thirst for adventure before she settled down as Mrs. Trystan Trezies. At some point she knew she would have to put a stop to their clandestine meetings. Just not yet. Reaching her arms around his neck, she brought him back to her embrace, wishing he could remain there forever.

* * * *

The front door flew open as Jenna rushed in, her long hair flowing out behind her. “I’m sorry Tamzin.” She threw her arms around her sister. “Lady Emmeline made me work on and I couldn’t leave.”

Tamzin placed her hands on her sturdy hips as she reached for the mass of ivory material hanging against the door. “Well, all I know is I haven’t got time to wait around all night for you! You knew I needed you to try on this dress one more time. And speaking of dresses, if Karenza thinks she can leave it until the night before the wedding to try on her bridesmaid dress she can think again. You tell that Lady Emmeline you’ve a wedding to plan and a busy sister who seems to be doing all the work.”

Jenna averted her eyes and tried hard not to blush. She hated telling a lie, but how could she confide to anyone that she spent the afternoon with Sir Jack Bartholomew. No one, especially her sister, would ever believe her. If by some miracle she did, she would be certain to point out the ramifications of such a liaison. Tamzin was strangely astute in matters of love, especially when it involved members of the aristocracy and tales of servants being seduced by their masters. “There’ll be nothing but heartache there, you mark my words,” would be her sure reply if ever Jenna revealed her secret.

And anyway, I’m not ready to tell anyone about my feelings for Sir Jack. I may never be.
Besides, Jack would return to America and she into matrimony with Trystan. She told herself over and over again all day she would be happy with the memories of spending a couple of brief interludes with Jack.

Jenna stepped once more into the gown, while her sister admired the recent hem she took. She cinched in the waist, securing it with pins all the time muttering about how Jenna shouldn’t lose any more weight from her waist otherwise there would be no dress left. Jenna barely heard a word. The feel of the silken material against her skin reminded her of Jack’s soft touch against her breast only a few moments ago. She had been nervous to see him again, uncertain of what she would say, or how she would act. But the moment she saw his face looking up at her as he sat inside the small shed, seated on the old wooden bench, a strange feeling swept over her body. It was a soothing feeling of familiarity as she brushed the flop of hair away from his face and bent her lips to his.

“Ow!” Jenna screeched as her sister jabbed her with the pin, suddenly distracted from her daydreams. “What did you do that for?”

“I asked you five times about the veil. Where were you, off daydreaming about Trystan?”

Jenna bristled with shame. If only Tamzin knew. She ought to stop, put an end to these blossoming desires for Sir Jack Bartholomew. But since she first laid eyes on him, her desire to see him every day was the only thing keeping her from falling into a deep depression over the way her young life seemed to be heading. If only he knew how their meetings filled her with such excitement and gaiety.

“What about the veil?”

Tamzin sighed, impatiently. “Where is it?”

“Oh, um, um, oh yes.” Jenna slapped her forehead. “It’s on my nightstand.”

“You’ve a head like a cabbage! Why ever Lady Emmeline hired you as her personal servant is a mystery to me. It’s a wonder how you remember to even go to work.”

“What are you thinking of Papa?” Jenna asked, noticing her father studying her.

Mr. Penworthy took a long puff on his pipe and smiled. “Your mother and how much you look like her. She would have been so proud of her youngest girl.”

“Do you think she would have been pleased about my marrying Trystan, father?” Jenna hoped to seek strength from any validation of Trystan, so she could put a stop to seeing Sir Jack.

“Aye, more than pleased. More than pleased. She would want the best for you – a good, kind, hardworking man. There’s none more so than young Trystan. You’ll make a fine couple.”

Jenna smiled, fiddling nervously with her locket trying to block the memory of Jack’s smiling face from her mind. She would have to put an end to their liaison sooner rather than later, before her feelings for him really exploded…if they hadn’t already.

Chapter Eleven

Sir Jack seated himself in the plush velvet chair of Lady Emmeline’s study and reviewed the list of names in front of him, stopping at Trystan Trezies’s. The words seemed to leap off the page, taunting and laughing at him. He rubbed his forehead, trying to get all thoughts of Jenna from his mind. It seemed every five minutes he would glance down at his pocket watch eager for their daily meeting time to be near. For the past week, they met every day in the small shed, their happiness at being with one another evident from the smiles they found hard to contain. He never felt as excited to be near a woman as he did with Jenna and yesterday was no exception. He asked her about her mother and, for the first time, he felt Jenna really confide in him. They had even been so bold as to leave the secrecy of the small shed. Under the cover of the large oak trees resplendent in their summer fullness, they walked together along the small stream meandering along the edge of the moor. She spoke of her mother’s accidental drowning and the pain the cruel tongues of the village gossip mongers caused her. They implied Isabel Penworthy’s drowning had been no accident and the suicide a result of her secret past being revealed by a visitor to the village. That visitor left the next morning, never to return again.

Jack shook his head in amazement. “Village folk! Boredom sets in and they have nothing else to revel in but their imaginations. I’m afraid it’s the same the world over. You know the truth and that’s all that matters.”

She nodded, lifting her locket from inside her blouse, and opened it for him to see the miniature of her mother’s face. He drew a sharp breath, firstly amazed at the likeness Jenna held to her mother and secondly at the resplendent and costly piece of the locket. It looked like pure gold and the miniature no work of an amateur artist. Its delicacy amazed him.

“Where did your mother get this beautiful piece?”

“I don’t know.” Jenna shrugged, placing it back underneath her blouse. “She always wore it, for as long as I can remember.”

“You must be careful and watch over it. This is a very expensive item. You would be a prime candidate for any thief or vagabond who spied you with this.”

Jack closed his eyes, remembering how she nodded and laughed. “I always wear it hidden under my blouse. That way it is closest to my heart.”

The knock on the door stirred him from his thoughts. He stood as Lady Emmeline entered the study.

“I hope you are finding it easier to concentrate in here. I know Edwin can be most annoying when peace and quiet is needed.”

Jack smiled and nodded. It was impossible for him to work in Edwin’s study. His cousin constantly peered at the lists and grunted miserably whenever Jack placed a tick next to a miner’s name.

“I can’t part with him,” Edwin would say when a few of the names were ticked. “He’s one of my best miner’s. America will have to do without him.”

“But we can’t have all novices,” Jack argued. “We must have some experienced men to teach the locals.”

Edwin reached over and grabbed the list in his fat little fingers, reading out the names and either nodding or shaking his head. When he came to Trystan Trezies, he said the name over and over again shaking his head adamantly. “No! No to Trystan Trezies. A definite no! His father worked here for years and was the best foreman I ever employed. Trystan has just been promoted and I need him to stay here. That’s a definite.”

Jack inwardly sighed with relief. There was no possible way he would want to see a daily reminder of the man who Jenna loved enough to marry anyway. Edwin could gladly keep Trystan at Penrose Mines.

Emmeline seated herself in front of Jack and took out her embroidery. The hot midday sun streamed in through the windows, bathing the room with a warm sunny glow. She looked up from her sewing and gazed at Jack.

“Game of cards tonight Jack?” she asked expectantly.

“You must be in need of the money! I have never known a woman to enjoy a gamble as much as you.”

“Oh, I just enjoy watching my husband lose. You must know that.”

Jack laughed. Emmeline and Edwin were poles apart. In fact, he didn’t think they shared anything in common. He tried to remember when he was a child. Had things been different then? He didn’t think so. In fact, he couldn’t ever remember them getting along. It seemed sad to him there was never any love there. All those years wasted being married to someone you didn’t love, let alone particularly like. He thought about the women he made love to over the years. He hadn’t loved any of them and couldn’t even think of what life would be like being married to any one of them. Miserable no doubt! As for Jenna, well, he couldn’t stop thinking of her, but marriage… Well, that was something entirely different. He always maintained he would spend the rest of his days as a bachelor – a free man with no ties. Why, all of a sudden, was his thinking beginning to change?

“Cup of tea, Jack, or would you like something stronger?” Emmeline reached for the bell to ring for her servant.

Jack braced himself. He had been fortunate enough to avoid Jenna at Penrose House since their afternoon visits began. Although he wanted to see her, he found the thought of having her wait on him mortifying. He glanced around the study, his eyes resting on a bottle of brandy. “I think I need something stronger.” He rubbed his tired eyes. “Why is paperwork so tedious and boring? Will a brandy do for you?”

“Well, why not, it’s almost one o’clock anyway.” Emmeline placed her bell back on the table. “Not too big a glass though. I intend to fleece both you and Edwin tonight at cards and I won’t be doing that if I’m too tipsy.”

Jack laughed, relieved at having averted Jenna. In a few hours, she would be in his company as she should be, not as a servant, but as a woman and a beautiful, exquisite woman at that.

* * * *

Trystan stood next to Jenna’s father at the mine entrance as the inspector tapped the wooden frame leading down into the pit.

“When were these beams last replaced?” the inspector asked the mine boss.

“Five years ago,” the mine boss lied, watching as the inspector tapped along the top ridge.

“They need to be replaced.” He ran his hands along the peeling wood, stopping to notice an area where the timber began to flake off in large pieces. “But these beams will need replacing as soon as possible. Best not to wait until winter sets in. All this rain recently has wore them down. As we spoke about earlier, the shaft walls will need reinforcing. I should anticipate the work will only take a week or so. You don’t need to be closed for long.”

The mine boss nodded in agreement. “We’ll see it’s taken care of.” He shook the inspector’s hand and bid him farewell. “Everyone back to work,” he ordered, cursing the inspector under his breath for disrupting his miners. “Bloody inspectors wanting this, that and everything else changed! Trystan, I want you to take this note to Lord Edwin up at the Manor and be quick about it.” He handed Trystan the inspector’s note and slapped him on the back. “I need you back here in half an hour lad. We’ve got masses of work to catch up on.”

Trystan nodded, pleased to be getting some more fresh air and hoping to bump into Jenna at the Manor. He raced quickly across the moors, feeling the wind rush through his hair as he sprinted over the ferns and boulders. He stopped when he was out of sight of the mine and, opening up the ink stained note, tried hopelessly to read it. The words might well have been foreign to him. If only he had taken the time to learn to read as a child, but with money scarce, the small wage he earned as a child miner helped keep food on the table. They employed small boys to send deep into the narrowest tunnels of the mine where tin lay rich and plentiful.

He knocked on the front door of Penrose House and asked for Lord Edwin. Following the butler through the cold, stone corridors of the manor, he listened intently for Jenna’s voice, but the house was cloaked in silence. There was something mysterious about Penrose House. He couldn’t quite figure out just what, but he noticed an unpleasant chill the few times he entered the vast cold grey manor. The butler stopped outside Lord Edwin’s study and knocked cautiously. A stern voice beckoned for them to enter. Upon seeing Trystan, the cross look on Edwin’s face dissipated and he bade the boy to sit. Trystan nervously handed Edwin the note and watched as the man's face contorted with anger upon reading the contents.

“Did the inspector just leave?” Edwin asked, re-reading the noted and taking out his feather ink-pen.

“Yes, my lord.”

Edwin began to scribble on a piece of paper, shaking his head and cursing slightly. He mumbled the words as he wrote them down “Cannot close for two weeks…busiest time of year…will have to be postponed until autumn…recommend this work be carried out at end of October.” He looked up at Trystan, “Here lad, take this back to the mine boss and tell him I will write to notify the inspector of this.”

Trystan nodded. “Bloody inspectors,” he added, repeating what the mine boss said, hoping to impress Lord Edwin.

Edwin smiled. “Ah, the inspectors are just doing their job. Nothing important to replace, just a few beams at the entrance before winter sets in.”

Trystan nodded. He felt as though he got along well with Lord Edwin. He and the mine boss obviously trusted Trystan with these important notes of communication.

“I am pleased with the work you have been doing. Are you pleased with your new position?”

”Yes I am, sir”

“And your wedding is coming up soon?”

Trystan nodded, pleased Lord Edwin seemed interested in his life.

“I am terribly sorry I won’t be able to give you time off apart from the Sunday. When I married we were off traveling for a month afterwards. But then things are different with us…”

“One day is fine for us. As long as it’s sunny and warm, we’ll be happy.”

Edwin smiled. “Well, just remember what I told you about rushing into fatherhood. You’re still young. Take your time!”

“I will, I will.” Trystan made his way toward the door. “And thank you for everything, my lord.”

* * * *

Jack rushed down toward the quarry and the small shed. He was late. The brandy made Emmeline most talkative. She spoke for nearly three hours about her rose garden, the Countess of Devon’s awful reputation and her ill fitting marriage. Jack, too polite to interrupt, sensed she didn’t have many people to talk to being stuck in this remote and isolated area of Cornwall. He mused perhaps life would be more exciting for her if she spent more time in her London home. But she shook her head, citing her fondness for the countryside and the rugged terrain of Bodmin Moor in particular. And so he sat and listened, amazed at the candidness of which she spoke of her life. The brandy indeed loosened her tongue. Or was it just that she had someone to confide in?

He entered the shed to find Jenna already seated on the wooded bench.

“I thought you weren’t coming, Jack.”

“Not come? Oh Jenna, I have been waiting all day to see you.” He took her hands in his and kissed them. “I’ve missed you. The hours go by so slowly I am afraid my pocket watch will tarnish, what with me constantly lifting it from my pocket to check how many hours until I can be with you.” He lifted her chin and bent his lips to touch hers. Immediately, his body filled with desire. The softness of her mouth on his, the silkiness of her hair against his skin drew a soft moan from his throat. He pulled her closer to him and ran his fingers along the length of her body.

“Oh, Jack.” She nestled her head against his chest, her voice breaking.

“Shush,” he whispered, tenderly covering her face with kisses. “What is it my love?”

Jack lifted her face. “Jenna?”

“I’m sorry, Jack.”

He set his jaw firmly as he willed back the powerful emotion he suddenly felt quelling inside of him. “You’re sorry for what?” He didn’t want to hear what she was about to say next.

“I…I…I can’t continue to do this, to meet like this, be with you like this.” Her voice was soft as she spoke, her eyes averting his. “I am getting married in two weeks time.”

“Do you love him?” He fixed his gaze upon hers, drinking in the exquisite turquoise of her eyes.

Jenna shrugged and nodded in discomfort.

“You didn’t answer. Look at me and tell me you love him.” Anger coursed through him. Anger with himself for letting his emotions, which were normally so hidden, to emerge like this.

“Jack,” she started, lifting her hand to his cheek and stroking it gently. “Don’t you understand? You have your place in this world and I have mine. Soon, you will return to America and I will still be here, doing the things my place in this world requires. This affair of ours isn’t destined for anything other than heartache for our union can never amount to anything other than what it is – a secret affair that can never be consummated.”

He gulped. The sudden realization left an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. “But Jenna, I…I…”

“You what, Jack? You like me? You enjoy my company? You find it titillating to spend time in the arms of a servant girl? You know as well as I do you never expected anything to come of this. Look at you! You’re Sir Jack Bartholomew and I am nothing but a servant.”

He blinked hard, fighting back the emotion threatening to pour forth at any moment. “But don’t you see it doesn’t have to be like this. You can come back with me, to America, to a land where class and aristocracy don’t mean anything. All they’re concerned about in America is money. They couldn’t give a hoot whether it is landed gentry money or not. If you want me, if you want us, then come back with me. Break off your engagement and leave with me for America. We could have a good life there and we’d be together. I would go now if it meant never having to leave you.” He finished, amazed at how fervently he meant his words.