Midsummer's Eve (48 page)

Luke Tregern had married her. He was the calculating villain. He had seen his great chance; he would get his hands on Cador. But he was less simple than Maria. He saw all sorts of pitfalls. He did not believe that my family would let the matter rest. He guessed that my Uncle Peter—that man of great ability and manipulator of his fellow men—would take some action—and how right he was in that. It must have occurred to him that although Maria was in possession at the time, she might not remain so. So he had decided to syphon off money and invest it abroad. He had mortgaged the property as far as he could and had banked the money in Australia under a false name and he intended to escape there when it was necessary.

That scene in the woods when he and Maria had come face to face with Digory, told him that the moment had come, more quickly than he had thought it would. He had been preparing himself for some time for sudden departure. So he was ready. As soon as he knew that Digory was in the neighbourhood and had seen Maria he prepared for flight.

He was picked up in Southampton where he was waiting for a ship to take him to Australia.

It was ironical that when he was brought up for trial he was sentenced to fourteen years’ transportation; and eventually departed for Australia in a very different manner from that which he had planned.

As for Maria, when she learned that I was still alive, before she could be brought to justice, she went down to the shore and walked into the sea.

That was the tragic end of her dreams.

I had visitors every day. Helena brought Jonnie, who looked at me with enquiring eyes and wanted to know why I was all tied up.

I told him I had had an accident and would soon be untied.

He regarded me solemnly and asked me to tell him a story. Rolf came in and found us together.

“This is your house,” announced Jonnie.

“Yes,” replied Rolf. “Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like to live here?”

“With you?”

Rolf nodded.

“And Auntie Annora?”

“Ask her.”

He looked at me and said: “And Mama and Papa and Geoffrey … We could all come. Here I’d have a pony.”

Helena came in and took him from the bed. She regarded me with concern. “You mustn’t tire yourself,” she said anxiously.

Uncle Peter came.

He said: “I’ve had things checked.”

I looked at him enquiringly.

“This Maria,” he said. “You didn’t think I was going to let them get away with it, did you? If you had left it to me it wouldn’t have gone so far. Soon as I heard the verdict I sent a man out to Australia … a detective to scent out the truth. It took a bit of time but at last we traced it. She was living on her father’s property. He had had convict labour and one of these was Digory. That was how she came to know about the house. Her mother died a few years ago. This Stillman was Maria’s father. There was never any question of it. The whole thing was a fabrication. And it ought to have been seen as such right from the start. I always said you should have let me deal with it.”

“I know, Uncle Peter.”

“Well, there’ll be no haggling now. Cador will be back … where it belongs.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” I said.

“You get well … quickly.”

“I promise to do my best.”

Rolf sat by my bed.

He said: “You are well enough now to talk.”

“What about?” I asked.

“Us. I think we should try again, Annora. And this time, please don’t decide right at the last moment to stop the ceremony.”

“I won’t, Rolf. I’ll be there.”

“What a lot of time we’ve wasted. Where did it all go wrong?”

“On Midsummer’s Eve … years ago … when I saw that figure in the grey robe urging on that cruel mob to violence.”

“You thought that of me!”

“You had the robe. I couldn’t believe it. It bewildered me. It gave me a jaundiced view of the world. I think I stopped believing in anybody from then on.”

“But I told you. I was in Bodmin on that night.”

“I know you told me. I wanted to believe you, but I couldn’t forget. I know now that even if you had been there I should still love you. I shouldn’t have allowed my doubts to get in the way. I know now that it was Luke Tregern who was there that night in the robe. Digory saw him.”

“He must have taken it from my drawer. I remember showing it to him. He was interested in the old customs. I remember telling him how they went back to pre-historic days. I caught him once wearing a coat and hat of mine. I came in and found him preening before a mirror. I was amused. Tregern was the sort who set great store by bettering himself.”

“It wouldn’t go, Rolf … the memory of that night. It haunted me. On the night before the day when we were to be married I dreamed. I thought I was there and you were in the robe and when I woke up I saw my wedding dress hanging in the cupboard … The door had blown open and I thought for a moment that you were in the room, in the robe. It seemed significant … an uncanny warning. You see I was afraid I was never going to forget. Now that I know it was Luke Tregern I believe I can stop thinking of that Midsummer’s Eve. I don’t think I shall have any more nightmares about it.”

“I see that you had a poor opinion of me if you thought I was there urging on that mob. What else did you think of me?”

“That you wanted Cador.”

He looked at me steadily. “You thought I wanted to marry you because you owned Cador?”

“It was the way I was looking at everything. After that Midsummer’s Eve I ceased to trust anyone. Forgive me, Rolf.”

“I have not been without my doubts. Why do we doubt the one we love? Why do we look for flaws? Why do we distrust perfection? Annora … you and Joe Cresswell …”

“Yes?”

“I heard the talk. I believe it came through Kitty to the Cador kitchens and from theirs to mine … and that seeps through the house. They seemed to think you were going to marry Joe.”

“Oh no, no,” I said. “I liked Joe. I wanted to help him. He suffered so much when his father was in trouble. But I never loved him … not as I love you.”

“I guessed there was something between you. Annora, if you would care for Jonnie to come here … to be brought up here … I could be fond of him … treat him as my own son.”

“Jonnie, come here! His mother would never allow that. Helena dotes on him. He’s her beloved first-born.” I stared at him in astonishment. “Oh no. You couldn’t have thought …”

“Well,” he said. “You went to Australia. He was born there. You were friendly with Joe. There seemed to be some mystery about his birth.”

“You thought he was mine! And you were ready to marry me and have him here. Oh, Rolf, I do love you so much. Jonnie is Helena’s child. John Milward is his father. Matthew, who scarcely knew her then, nobly married her so that as she was to have a child she should have a husband.”

“What a web we wove with our imaginations!”

“You no less than I. I’m glad of that. It makes me feel less guilty. Helena is wonderfully happy. Isn’t it marvellous that all that contentment should have come about in a marriage which was so arranged?”

“How much better one should be when the two people concerned have been in love ever since they knew each other. That’s true, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s true.”

“There is one little point which needs clearing up. There is Cador. It will now come back into your possession. How will you know I am not marrying you for Cador?”

“I’ll take the risk,” I said. “And frankly, I can only rejoice that you may want it so much that you are ready to take me with it.”

“That’s a fair offer. Now I have something to tell you. Luke Tregern raised money with Cador as security. It’s mortgaged up to the hilt. Some of the money which Luke Tregern amassed will be retrieved no doubt. But not all. Cador will not be in the sound financial position which it was before all this happened. I’ll tell you something; I secured the greater part of the mortgages. So you could say that instead of your bringing Cador to me I am bringing it to you.”

I was astonished. I had been warned that a great deal of harm had been done to the estate during Maria’s possession. I knew that Bob Carter was going into the accounts with Rolf, but I had not realized to what extent it had suffered.

Rolf took my hands and said: “There is only one thing for you to do now and that is get well … just as quickly as you can.”

We were silent for some time.

Then he said: “Annora, there is nothing else, is there? No other misapprehension, no other misunderstanding?”

“No,” I said. “Nothing.”

“We’ll be married in Midsummer. That will exorcise the ghosts.”

“Then there will be another Midsummer’s Eve to remember,” I said.

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F
ROM THE MOMENT BENEDICT
made his dramatic entry into the family circle I was aware of a special attraction between us—that was even before we were involved in the nightmare experience at the Pool of St Branok which was to haunt us in the years ahead, and to have such an effect on our lives thereafter.

My parents, with my young brother Jack and me, were in London to visit the Great Exhibition for it was the year 1851 and I was nine years old. Benedict was fifteen but when one is nine, six years is a great deal.

We had traveled up on the train from Cornwall—an adventure in itself—to the house in the Westminster square which was ruled over by Uncle Peter and Aunt Amaryllis. They were not really my aunt and uncle, but relationships in our family were very complicated and I always addressed them as such. Uncle Peter had married into the family and dominated it. Aunt Amaryllis was my grandmother’s niece, although they were more or less the same age. My mother had always had a grudging admiration for Uncle Peter which made me feel that there was some mystery about him. He was ebullient, charming with a definite hint of wickedness about him which made him fascinating. I had often thought it would be exciting to discover what that meant. Aunt Amaryllis was quite different. She was gentle, kindly and had a rather innocent manner; and she was dearly loved by all. There was nothing secretive about her.

They were constantly entertaining important people at their house. I did not attend these occasions, of course, but even I, at my age, had heard the names of some of these guests.

Their son and daughter had exciting lives of their own. Helena was married to a successful politician, Matthew Hume. He was constantly at the house, even without Helena, and spent a good deal of time in the company of Uncle Peter who took a great interest in his political career. I heard my mother say that Uncle Peter was the
éminence grise
behind Matthew Hume. Then there was the son, Peter, who had been known as Peterkin since his birth to distinguish him from his father. He and his wife, Frances, ran a Mission in the East End of London, and did much good.

My mother told me a great deal about them. She loved to talk of the past. She had been born in our old house, Cador, which had belonged to the Cadorsons for hundreds of years. My mother had inherited it, so we were not Cadorsons now. My father was Rolf Hanson, who had inherited the house through marriage with my mother; but I think he loved the place even more than the rest of us. I had heard it said that the estates had never been run as well as when Mr. Hanson took charge of them. They had never been so large either, for his contribution to the family estates had been the manor property, which he had brought in when he married my mother.

He was not a Cornishman, but what they called in those parts a “foreigner,” which meant that he had been born on the other side of the Tamar in that alien land called England. He was amused by it. We were a very happy family. My father seemed so wise; he understood every little problem that arose and made no fuss about solving it, so it seemed to me. I had never seen him lose his temper. I thought he was the most wonderful person in the world. I used to ride with him round the estate. Jack, who was three years younger than I, was just beginning to do the same. There had been a time when they had thought there would not be another child to follow me and it had been assumed then that one day Cador would be mine. But Jack came.

My mother used to say: “Cador is a wonderful house—not because of its towers and stone walls, but because of the people who lived in it and made it a home. Never, never,” she would add, “let yourself believe that houses in themselves are important. It is the people whom you love and who love you who matter. I lost time when I could have been with your father because I thought he cared more for Cador than for me. Then I was lucky. I learned my lesson in time … but only after we had missed a few years of life together. So someday Cador will be Jack’s, and when the time comes for you to marry you will know that you are wanted for yourself and not because you are the owner of a great house.”

She spoke vehemently. My mother was a great talker—unlike my father. I liked to see him sitting there smiling at her indulgently and lovingly while she talked in her vivacious way. I think I resembled her more than I did my father—although I had his looks. I was fairhaired with large dreamy-looking greenish eyes and a wide mouth. I looked as though I should have been serious, thoughtful, but the effect was spoilt by my pert nose which was quite unlike my father’s rather noble-looking long one. It gave the contradiction to my seriousness, as it were. My father would touch it sometimes when I said something outrageous, as though my audacity was due to my nose.