Devil's Prize (22 page)

As Casvellan reached her Jenefer straightened up and wiped both hands on her apron. One hand rose as if to check her hair, but she quickly dropped it again and made a curtsey.

‘Good afternoon, sir.’

‘Miss Trevanion, I must congratulate you. All this,’ his gesture encompassed blanket-wrapped families and the women moving among them with trays of mugs and bowls, and platters of bread and butter. ‘It’s quite remarkable.’

‘You are kind to say so, sir. But I cannot take all the credit. Almost everyone in the village has contributed in one way or another.’

‘Following your example, Miss Trevanion.’ he smiled. ‘I am reliably informed.’

As Jenefer acknowledged the compliment, Tamara studied the justice’s face. Had he seen Roz? Did he know? His expression gave nothing away, but he would be aware that everyone was watching him. He was the law and, as virtually the whole community had some connection with free trading, few villagers felt easy in his presence.

‘I understand a troopship ran aground during the night?’

‘So I believe, sir,’ Jenefer replied.

‘Survivors?’

Tamara shook her head as Jenefer caught her eye.

‘Sadly no.’

‘What of the dead?’

Jenefer clasped her hands in front of her. ‘Miss Gillis, do you know …?’

Tamara straightened in her chair as Casvellan looked at her. ‘On my way here I saw Dr Trennack on the beach with several men. They were loading the bodies onto one of the farm wagons.’

‘I see.’ Casvellan nodded at her. ‘Thank you.’ He hesitated. Tamara waited, sensing he had another question. But he switched his gaze to Jenefer. ‘There is food, clothing, and blankets on a mule outside. I’m sure you will find a use for them. I had thought that – no matter.’

As he inclined his head and started down the aisle, Tamara realised that the loss of the troopship might have been one reason for his arrival. But he had another. He had come to see if Devlin was back. That was the question he had not asked.

He was the only man with the power to order custody of Devlin and his men transferred from the Supervisor of Customs to himself. It had to be the justice who had freed Devlin and half his crew in order for them to rescue Martin Erisey. And Casvellan was the only man with the power to send the remaining crewmen to gaol as hostages.

He had come to the village because the lugger was overdue. Were it not for the storm Devlin would have been back hours ago. And the dragoons would have been waiting. But sea conditions must have persuaded the lieutenant that a landing was impossible, for she had seen no sign of him or his soldiers.

Now no one knew where Devlin was, or even if he was alive. He was. If anything had happened to him she would know.

The justice had almost reached the door when Arf Sweet burst in. ‘Boat in the bay!’ he panted.

Tamara bolted from her chair, clutching the table as her head spun. Jenefer caught her.

‘It may not be –’

‘Of course it is,’ Tamara cried. ‘No one else would be out there in this. I have to go.’ Grabbing her coat she started down the aisle, pushing her arms into the sleeves as she squeezed past knots of people arguing about whether to stay in the chapel.

‘What’s the bleddy point going down the beach?’ One woman demanded. ‘Want to see ’em drown, do ’ee? ‘Cos that’s what’ll ’appen.’

No, no, it won’t! Tamara told herself, as she took the quickest route. They haven’t come all this way and survived those appalling conditions to fail now. Instinct told her Devlin wouldn’t attempt to come into the harbour. Even though the wind was easing it was still far too dangerous. It was all too likely that the boat would be driven against the quay wall and smashed.

She walked then ran along the narrow streets. Arf had left the chapel immediately after announcing the news. Seeing his stocky figure ahead, she could imagine his anxiety, for it mirrored her own. Willing them to make a safe landfall, terrified they might not. Fearing to watch, yet unable not to. Jared was his only son. Devlin her only love.

She followed him onto the beach. Blowing in from the sea, the wind caught her coat and gown so their skirts flapped behind her. It tugged curls loose from her chignon and she tasted salt on her lips.

The onshore wind meeting the ebbing tide piled the waves high. From beach to horizon the sea was wild and white with foam. As more people arrived, gathering behind her, Tamara caught snatches of their conversations between gusts. She scanned the sea, her gaze sharpening as she glimpsed the lugger. But no sooner had she spotted it, than it vanished, diving into a trough before appearing again on the next crest.

‘Bleddy suicide it is, trying to land in this lot.’

‘Well, they can’t stay out there, can ’em?’

‘Varcoe’s the only man could do it.’

‘He’s the only man would try. Mad he is.’

‘No such thing. But he might ’ave bit off too much this time.’

‘Where’re they to? I can’t see ’em.’

Impatient with the comments and not wanting to be distracted as she willed Devlin to safety, Tamara moved down the beach, never taking her eyes from the small triangle of brown canvas that kept disappearing behind the curling wave-crests.

While she watched her mouth and throat grew dry as she realised that the huge waves were followed at intervals by an even fiercer roller. When it reared, curled and crashed an evil cross-sea raced along the trough.

Devlin was beyond exhaustion. A voyage that usually took then between six and seven hours had already lasted sixteen. He ached in every muscle from the effort of trying to hold a course while Danny, Andy and Billy baled, fighting to keep the sea out of the boat. Erisey was doing his best to help, but weakness made him slow.

Standing shoulder to shoulder with Jared, both of them soaking wet and chilled to the bone, Devlin pushed the tiller over to keep the lugger stern-on to the waves.

It was now, when they were at the end of their strength and within a cable’s-length of safety, that they faced the greatest danger. It needed only one false move for the boat to be smashed to splinters and them to pulp. The only way to survive the breakers was to try and ride them, guiding the boat through the thundering surf and as close in-shore as possible.

People crowded the top of the beach. At least there were no dragoons. Then he saw a red coat, billowing in the wind. His heart clenched like a fist. Since early that morning and all the time the storm had raged he had felt her presence. Ashamed of his behaviour – not of what had happened between them, but of his brutal actions afterward – he had tried to put her out of his mind, telling himself he could not afford distraction. But as the hours passed and reaching home began to look ever more unlikely, he had allowed her back in.

As he and Jared fought the boat and the storm-lashed sea, he relived his memories of her: spirited, infuriating, generous, passionate. If this was to be his last day, he knew now that someone had thought him worth loving. She was different, rare. And she had loved him. Tamara. He held the thought, drew strength from it.

It made no sense but he had felt her there with him, an impression so strong he had almost looked over his shoulder, certain he would see her close behind him. He had resisted, knowing it impossible, mocking himself for a fool. And yet …

Now she was on the beach. Had she come down for him? Despite the wound he had dealt her? Her red coat was vivid against the grey shingle and darker rock. Had she worn it so he would see her? Know she was there? His narrowed eyes were sore from the salt spray and burned with exhaustion. He peered shoreward, focused on that poppy-red beacon of hope.

The boat reared on a gigantic wave that lifted her quarters and swung her bow round broadside on. Devlin fought grimly. They could still make it. Then a cross-sea he hadn’t seen snatched the boat and tipped it on its beam-end.

He heard Jared’s harsh cry of fear, and saw Martin Erisey, the man who held the key to his freedom and his future, hurtle past, mouth wide, arms and legs whirling. He had an instant in which to choose.

As the icy water took his breath, Devlin dived after Jared, who had not wanted to make this trip, and who could not swim.

Vaguely aware of the others and of Erisey, all shouting, choking, floundering, he focused on Jared. Kicking off his boots before they could drag him down, he lunged for his oldest friend. Hooking him under the chin, Devlin struck out desperately for the shore, kicking frantically for the surface as the breaking waves pounded them under.

He broke surface again, gasping. His burst of strength was ebbing, but above the deafening roar of the surf he could hear people shouting encouragement, urging him on. Jared’s huge hands gripped his forearm like twin clamps. The drag and weight was almost too much for his screaming muscles. Spitting water, gulping air, he saw terror on his friend’s face, the fear that he might let go.

Dredging up a final despairing effort as a wave lifted them high them smashed down and raced past, Devlin touched solid ground. He staggered forward and felt Jared pulled from his grasp. Coughing up water from his burning lungs, he saw Arf, wet to the waist, tears streaming down his face, lift his son’s arm over his shoulder and drag him out of the boiling surf.

Tamara was running towards him. The joy on her face cracked his heart. Then he saw terror. She was shouting but he couldn’t hear. He raised his hand. No closer – the waves – not safe. As he heaved in a breath to shout, the cross-sea struck, hurling him off his feet. 

Chapter Twenty-two

The scream hurt Tamara’s throat. She hurled herself forward. If the next wave broke on him, the undertow would suck him back and he would drown. Plunging into the wild foaming water she grabbed his flailing arm, felt his fingers grip hers and hauled with all her strength. Her coat billowed around her, red as blood, as she fought the sea for the man she loved.

She felt her skirts seized and then hands caught her and they were both pulled to safety as the curling breaker crashed, swirled furiously around their knees then retreated with an angry hiss.

She managed a few staggering steps then her legs gave way and she sank onto the shingle, sobbing for breath. Devlin collapsed to his knees beside her, hands on his thighs as he heaved in great gulps of the sweetest air he had ever tasted. Seawater had scoured his throat, but it was the fist-sized lump that made swallowing impossible. He looked at her, humbled.

‘You could have drowned.’ The hoarse whisper was all he had strength for.

‘You would have,’ she said chattering teeth, shaking with reaction and relief. ‘I could not have borne it.’

Struggling to his feet he grasped her hand, helped her up then pulled her against him, terrified at how close he came to losing her. He sought words that would tell her of the shame that had haunted him, his fear of trusting, of loving, of betrayal. The task was too great.

‘I’m sorry,’ he rasped. ‘So sorry.’

She laid her face on his shoulder, listened to the thud of his heartbeat. He was alive, safe. ‘You’re home. The rest doesn’t matter.’

His arms tightened and he rested his dripping head against hers, his voice cracking as he whispered, ‘Don’t let go.’

She turned her face up, met his gaze. Scalding tears spilled down her cold cheeks. But she made no attempt to stop them, for they were tears of joy. ‘Never.’

‘Tamara! For heavens’ sake! Have you no shame? What will people think?’ Her mother squawked, crimson and breathless as she hurried across the beach leaning heavily on her husband’s arm.

‘She wanted me to marry Thomas,’ Tamara whispered to Devlin.

‘You won’t,’ Devlin growled.

‘No,’ she agreed calmly, then turned to her mother. ‘Mama, people will think what they want to think.’

Ignoring Morwenna, Devlin addressed her husband. ‘Mr Gillis, I’m going to marry your daughter. I would like –’

‘You can’t!’ Morwenna cried, then rounded Tamara. ‘I forbid it. I will not have that man in our family. In any case you cannot marry him,’ she announced, tossing her head. ‘You have already accepted his brother.’

‘Only to spare you disgrace, Mama. Devlin is the father of my child. I will marry him or no one. I should like your blessing. But –’

‘You have it,’ John offered Devlin his hand. ‘She’s yours, Varcoe. Always was, had I the wit to see it. Take care of her.’

‘John! How could you?’ Morwenna cried. Realising they had an avid audience, her hand flew to lace-edged ruffles frothing from the open bosom of her coat. ‘Oh! I want to go home. Now, Mr Gillis!’

‘In just a moment, my dear.’ He turned again to Devlin. ‘I’m sorry, Varcoe. The gale hit us badly. Your new boat –’ he shook his head. ‘I’m sorry.’

Devlin glanced towards the water’s edge where the lugger lay on its side. One never launched and beyond salvaging, the other badly damaged. His arm tightened around Tamara’s shoulders. Soon he would have a wife and child to support. He looked at his future father-in-law.

‘Later,’ he said.

With a nod, John turned away. Clinging to his arm, Morwenna stalked up the beach, her chin high, ignoring the watching crowd.

Devlin tensed. ‘Where are the others? Did they get ashore? Erisey?’

‘They’re all safe. Mr Erisey is over there,’ Tamara pointed. Devlin’s crew, each surrounded by family, were being helped up the beach. One man sat alone, his head hanging in exhaustion, arms resting on his bent knees.

Devlin saw Jenefer Trevanion bend and place a blanket around his shoulders.

Martin Erisey glanced up. ‘Jenefer? I must explain –’

‘No, Martin.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s too late for that. Perhaps if you had told me at the beginning –’

‘I couldn’t.’ His voice was raw and harsh. ‘I was sworn to secrecy. But it need not affect –’

‘Don’t.’

Watching Jenefer silence the man she was to have married, Devlin drew Tamara closer and she looked up at him.

‘What is it?’

‘Erisey and Miss Trevanion,’ he murmured, and Tamara followed his gaze.

‘… no future together,’ Jenefer was saying. ‘In your heart you know that. Come, you need dry clothes and a hot meal.’ She offered him her hand.

He grasped it. ‘I’m sorry.’

Silent, she helped him to his feet.

‘Mr Varcoe.’ Devlin looked round as Casvellan bowed briefly to Tamara.

‘A brave move, Miss Gillis. Risky, but courageous.’ He turned to Devlin. ‘Well done, Varcoe. Few men could have done what you did.’ He offered his hand and Devlin shook it. ‘I will send word to Bodmin. Your men will be home by the end of the week.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘However,’ Casvellan added with a hint of steel, ‘after such a fortunate escape you would be most unwise to tempt fate again. Whatever you may have been in the past, Varcoe, you were never a fool.’

Devlin glanced at Tamara, saw the love in her eyes, and knew he must not cause her any more grief. ‘Sir, I would leave the sea tomorrow, but I know nothing else.’

Glancing toward the crowd, who quickly decided they had business elsewhere and began moving away, Casvellan nodded. ‘A man unafraid of hard work, willing to adapt and learn, could be of great use to me.’ He turned back to Devlin. ‘You will want a few days to sort out your affairs. Come and see me after the weekend.’

Stunned by the offer, Devlin swallowed. He had always been his own man, giving orders not taking them. ‘Sir, I’m not sure –’

‘Of course not. Wait until we’ve talked. Miss Gillis.’ Bowing once more to Tamara, who bobbed a curtsey, the justice left them and started toward Erisey.

‘Come,’ Tamara said softly. ‘You need food and sleep.’

Devlin raked a hand through his hair. ‘Where?’

‘Tonight? Home with me.’

He looked down at her, one dark brow lifting. ‘Your mother –’

‘Will have seen Mr Casvellan talking to you. When she hears you have been invited to Trescowe to discuss a proposition –’ Tamara smiled wryly. ‘By tomorrow our marriage will have been her idea all along.’ As Devlin raised her hand and kissed it, the touch of his lips made her shiver with anticipation.

 Devlin’s face darkened. ‘Have you seen my brother?’

Tamara shook her head. ‘Not for days.’ She sighed. ‘He’ll need to be told.’

‘He can wait. You are all that matters now. You and our child.’ He drew her close.

Tamara looked into his eyes. No longer cool and guarded, they revealed the depth of his love, his need of her. ‘There was only you, Devlin,’ she said softly. ‘Then, now, always.’

THE END.