Smugglers' Summer (11 page)

Mr Cardin happily relieved them of the packages and begged them to step into a nearby coffeehouse for a cup of tea. Refreshed, they left the parcels with the proprietor and walked about the Barbican, then strolled across the grassy Hoe with its spectacular view of the shipping in the harbour and Sound. All too soon it was time to fetch the shopping and repair to the quay to find the boat ordered by Sir Tristram.

“I have enjoyed myself prodigiously, sir,” said Octavia, offering her hand to the lieutenant.

Instead of shaking it, he raised it to his lips. “You will let me know next time you come to Plymouth, won’t you?” His pleading eyes made him look like a hopeful puppy. “There are still any number of sights to be seen.”

“Your duties do not seem to occupy a great deal of your time.”

“Unless I am at sea, I can always get away for a few hours. Much of our work is done at night. Please say you will come again?”

“I cannot be sure, because my cousin is not permitted to leave Cotehele and it is not fair to abandon her. But if I do come, I will call at the Customs House to see how you go on. There, does that satisfy you?”

“It will have to,” he said sadly, and helped her into the boat.

The hired boat was much smaller than the cargo-carrying sailing barges, and much more comfortable. Octavia leaned back on the well-cushioned seat, her packages at her feet, and trailed her fingers in the water. Lieutenant Cardin stayed on the wharf, waving, for as long as she could see him.

“You’ve made a conquest there, right enough,” commented Ada with a smile.

Octavia turned to her, startled.

“You mean . . . you mean he is
enamoured?”
she asked incredulously.

“Head over heels, if you ask me, miss. Nice young chap, but with his way to make in the world yet.”

“If you are warning me that he is not like to offer marriage in the near future, you need not trouble, Ada. I have no thought of such a thing. Indeed, I can scarcely believe you are serious!”

“You’re still used to thinking of yourself as an antidote, begging your pardon, miss. It’s my belief that if you was to come out in society now, you’d have as many admirers as the most of them milk-and-water misses, and what’s more, they wouldn’t get bored, for you’ve a taking way with you and plenty of sense in your cockloft. You’ll excuse me talking so plain, miss, but I can’t abide to see you mistrust yourself so and I’d go bail the lieutenant is enamoured, as you put it.”

Octavia put her arms round the maid’s neck and kissed her cheek. “Be careful,” she said, “or you will raise me so high in my own conceit you will be compelled to give me a sharp set down. If Mr Cardin has really conceived a
tendre
for me, I shall have to watch how I behave towards him if we meet again. I should not like to lose his friendship.”

The return to Cotehele was tedious, though towards the end the setting sun painted the sky with crimson, gold, and green. Octavia missed Sir Tristram’s conversation. She was sure that Julia must feel the same and that he had been wise to leave.

It was dusk when they arrived, and the gig from the house was waiting for them. Octavia took out her purse to pay the boatman, but he waved it away.

“T’gennulman paid,” he said. “Not t’gennulman as seed you off, t’other gennulman.” He laid his finger along his nose and nodded his head knowingly.

“Oh,” she said, in some confusion, “well, thank you.”

The Cotehele groom handed them into the carriage and they set off up the hill.

“All the same,” said Octavia as they reached the top, “I wish you will not mention the lieutenant to Lady Langston. She might not understand that I regard him only as a friend, and I should not like to worry her.”

“I misdoubt it’s not my place to bear tales to her ladyship,” said Ada. “Will you be telling Miss Julia?”

“Oh, yes! And at once, for I cannot wait to see her face when I tell her I have a beau of my own!”

Chapter 10

Before the week was out, Julia was forced to admit that she felt the loss of Sir Tristram’s company.

“There is something about the presence of a gentleman,” she complained, seating herself listlessly on the bench in the arbour by the fish pond, “even if one does not care for him personally. Could you not invite your lieutenant to stay for a week or so, Tavy?”

“Heavens, no!” Octavia joined her, smoothing the skirts of the sea-green muslin which was the latest addition to her wardrobe. “If Ada is right about his feelings for me, it would be the outside of enough for me to encourage him so. Besides, though he is a true gentleman, he has none of those airs and graces you are accustomed to in town bucks.”

“No more does my James. For that matter, I should not describe Sir Tristram as an out-and-outer. He has no idea of keeping up the style one expects of his position and wealth. Do you know he brought not a single servant to attend him here?”

“Shocking! I expect he knew there were enough servants attached to the house to take care of his needs.”

“You may laugh at me, but what is the point of marrying a man with a vast income if he does not care to live up to it? I should be as well off wed to James.”

“Have you seriously considered marrying Sir Tristram, then?”

“It would save such a deal of unpleasantness!” Julia burst out. “I hate being confined to this wilderness, and I hate being at outs with Papa. He has not written a single word to me since we came here. But if I changed my mind now, everyone would say it was creampot love, and besides I
do
love James.”

Octavia caught a note of uncertainty in her cousin’s last words. Was separation already weakening her attachment?

“I am sure that if you marry Sir Tristram, you will come to love him. He is all that is kind and considerate.”

“A paragon of a husband! Sometimes I think James was only a dream, or that I dreamed he loves me. If only I might see him! Perhaps he has forgotten me. He is so brilliant, so dedicated, why should he spare a thought for a butterfly like me? He needs a wife who can help him in his work, and he has so many friends he is bound to find one sooner or later. You would be perfect for him, Tavy.”

“I think not. A politician must be always entertaining, as I know all too well from experience, and I dislike excessively having an endless stream of guests in the house. You would be a superb hostess, and enjoy it too, and you would soon get in the way of joining political discussions, for I can do it, without having the least interest in the world. As for you being a butterfly, his character is sadly in need of lightening and a little gaiety about the house could only improve him.”

Anxious to console Julia, and also to disclaim the possibility of being herself a fitting bride for Mr Wynn, Octavia found herself arguing on the wrong side.

“However, entertaining takes a deal of money,” she added hurriedly. “If I am glad to accept your unneeded gowns, it is not because Papa’s income is so very small, but because his expenses are large.”

“Then you must marry a rich man when I marry James, and I will take your castoffs!”

“I hope you mean to introduce me to some rich, unattached gentlemen, for on those grounds, my poor lieutenant is quite ineligible!”

“I should be happy to, and I’m sure I can think of half a dozen in London who are not seriously attached, but as long as we languish here nothing can be done. I am tired of sitting here, let us go in.”

Nothing held Julia’s attention for long. She read a little, played for a while upon the spinet, walked no more than a half mile with Octavia before she grew tired, and grew tired of sitting equally fast. Admonished by her mother, she would set a few stitches in a handkerchief she was embroidering for her father, and then lose the needle. She wrote long letters to James Wynn, then tore them into little pieces and burned them.

But for her cousin's unhappiness, Octavia would have thoroughly enjoyed the peaceful days.

With or without Julia, she loved to stroll in the gardens, and when her cousin would not accompany her she wandered for miles through fields and woods. One day she found herself near Cotehele Mill. She was tempted to visit it, but decided to wait in the hope that Sir Tristram might go with her to explain its business on his return. She talked to the country folk she met, at first understanding with difficulty the Cornish dialect; later, with familiarity, following it easily.

When the weather was bad, or she was tired of walking, she read avidly. Her education, under Julia’s governess, had been excellent, and though she had had little opportunity to widen her book-learning since her emancipation from the schoolroom, she had a foundation of taste and discrimination to guide her reading.

The collection of books in the east wing, though not large, was wide-ranging, catering to the catholic tastes of the Edgcumbes and their guests. Learned histories and lively biographies abounded, and when she tired of heavier fare there were plenty of novels to turn to. She searched in particular for
Northanger Abbey,
having gathered from Julia’s mention of it that it was suitable reading for a visitor in an ancient house full of secret hiding places. To her disappointment, it was not on the shelves. She wished she had thought to look for a copy in Plymouth.

Towards the end of June, they learned that the earl had arrived at Mount Edgcumbe with his family and a large house-party. A few days later, Octavia entered the drawing room to find her aunt fanning herself with a letter and looking thoroughly flustered.

“What is the matter, ma’am?” she cried, hurrying to her side. “Is it bad news, or are you unwell?”

“My dear, I hardly know,” Lady Langston said querulously. “I am all of a flutter. Here is Lord Edgcumbe announcing he will bring his friends to stay at Cotehele for a fortnight and I do not know how I shall manage.”

“You always manage at the Priory, Aunt, do you not?”

“But my housekeeper there knows very well how to go on without a great deal of direction. I must send for her at once. I will write to the Priory.”

“Surely that is not necessary, when Mrs Pengarth is such an excellent manager. Besides, his lordship cannot expect you to act as his hostess. Does not his elder daughter perform that function?”

“Yes, I believe Lady Emma runs his household. He mentions that she will be coming, to be sure.”

“Then you will warn Mrs Pengarth and leave all to her. There is no need to be in a pother about it.”

“You are such a comfort, Octavia! I am very glad that you are here, I vow. Only what will your mama think? I promised her that I should not take you into company, for I knew she would dislike it excessively. Perhaps you ought to stay in your chamber while they are here? It will be only two weeks.”

“I cannot suppose Mama would expect me to resort to such strong measures! Indeed, she said when I left that I had reached an age where I might be expected not to lose my head at a glimpse of high society. Nor can she blame you when it is none of your doing.”

“You think not? I hope you are right. It will be pleasant to enlarge our party. But Langston will be sadly displeased when he hears. He sent Julia here to be out of the way of meeting people.”

“Of meeting one particular person, I believe, ma’am, and one who is not like to be found in my lord’s train.”

“No, of course not. His lordship is almost as strong a Tory as my dear Langston. Mr—what was his name?—is not like to come with him.”

“I daresay Sir Tristram may, however. You will like to see Sir Tristram again, Aunt.”

“Oh, yes. Such an amiable gentleman and so much in love with poor Julia. Langston will be pleased that he is come back.”

“You see, you may be perfectly easy on all counts. Between us, Mrs Pengarth and I will make sure you need not be troubled with any of the arrangements, so you may look forward to enjoying the company. I shall go and see her at once."

“What a comfort you are, Octavia. I’m sure I am very glad you are here,” Lady Langston said again.

Mrs Pengarth had already received her instructions, and said she needed no assistance.

“I take it kindly that you offered, miss, but Lady Emma and me have our own little ways of doing things. His lordship always sends up extra servants and plenty of supplies in good time, so there’s no need for you to worry your head about anything."

“I never doubted that you could cope, Mrs Pengarth. Lady Langston was thrown into high fidgets and I promised her I would consult you.”

“You can tell her ladyship it’s all under control, miss. She’s nothing to do but choose which gown to wear, and it’s my belief it’s her dresser as makes that decision, if you don’t mind me saying so, miss.”

Octavia laughed. “You may be right,” she admitted.

Everything proved to be under control except Raeburn’s feelings. The Langstons’ butler was decidedly offended to learn that Lord Edgcumbe would bring his majordomo with him, and it took all Octavia’s tact to smooth his ruffled feathers without referring him to her aunt. Julia helped by saying that her mother would be excessively put out if she had to share his services with a crowd of strangers.

Julia was in a high gig, her megrims vanished at the prospect of a lively gathering of members of the Haut Ton. Cotehele was transformed instantly from a wilderness to the perfect setting for a house-party. She planned picnics, outings to gather raspberries and cherries, musical evenings, and river cruises.

“I expect his lordship and Lady Emma will have their own plans,” Octavia remonstrated.

“It can do no harm to have suggestions ready, in case I am asked,” Julia answered gaily. “Do you think we ought to show them the map and the hidden room beneath the Prospect Tower? We might have a treasure hunt.”

“By all means a treasure hunt, with cryptic clues such as you have told me you have at the Priory, but let us keep the secret of the tower to ourselves. It may be that Lord Edgcumbe already knows of it and would be displeased to have it generally discussed.”

“The Edgcumbes came to stay at the Priory one summer, but it was before I was out, and though I have met them in town, I do not know them well. The earl has the reputation of a wit, and I believe he is partial to amateur theatricals. Only think, he once wrote an opera! Perhaps he will write a play for us to act in.”