The Loving Cup (31 page)

Clowance glanced from one parent to the other,
I
think we have both learned from that. What I have learned is that there is nobody who can take his place.'

'And what has
he
learned?'

She hesitated,
I
think a good deal. So he says. And he has spoken in a way that has made me entirely believe him. I think..

‘
Yes?'

I
think, whatever else, that he loves me. He's not a saint. He has never pretended to be. We quarrelled and separated, and I thought I was right. Now I know I was wrong.'

‘
You mean you were
in
the wrong?'

'No, no, no. We have not - to be truthful we've not gone back over it word for word; but I think he believes
he
was in the wrong. Where J was wrong was in supposing that such a quarrel was a sufficient reason for parting. If you - love someone-it doesn't happen - that way.'

'And you are s
ure you love him that way now?'

'Yes, Papa. Quite sure.'

'Then there is nothing more to be said.'

Silence fell again. Demelza rose and poured out some wine for him, a glass of port for herself. Clowance had already shaken her head.

'And what part has Andrew played in all this?' Ross asked.

'He and Stephen have grown to a firm friendship. He has done well out of the voyage and is now Stephen's junior partner. He came to tell me about Stephen, as you know. He had been nursing Stephen himself.. .He is living at home, is reconciled with Aunt Verity
...
He has exchanged a few words with his father, but Uncle Andrew finds it hard to forgive him. for abandoning his position in the Packet Service.'

'Well, it's understandable,' Ross said. 'Andrew
Blamey
made his life in the Packet Service, and he expected his son to do the same. I hope this new venture works.'

'So do I,' said Clowance. 'Oh, one thing I should say. Stephen is trying to persuade Andrew to drink less. He says he is no use to him unless he can hold his drink. That at least should please Uncle Andrew.'

Ross glanced at his wife. 'And does Stephen believe he can support you?'

'Oh, yes. This last week, when he was feeling so much better, we looked at one or two places in Penryn. There is a half house to let just outside the town; quite small and it looks towards the river. The rent is not high. We should have to furnish it, of course. But apart from the capital Stephen now has - and a good chance of a reasonable income from his trading vessels - there are his shares in Wheal Leisure, which at present are bringing in an extra income.'

'And have you talked it over with him or with your mother, when you think of getting married?'

'We thought the middle of next month, Papa. But that would depend entirely on your approval.'

'Entirely?' Ross said with a little smile.

'Well
...
yes. Or almost entirely. I desperately want - we both want — your approval. And we couldn't marry if you were in Westminster.'

I
doubt if you will encounter any obstacle in the latter,' said Ross. 'Europe is going mad with joy, and so is London, and I better prefer to sit at home and read about it in comfort.'

'And the former?'

He looked at her for a long moment. 'You tell us you're sure. You told us that two years ago. Do you remember?' She flushed. 'Yes, I remember.' 'But you're more sure now?'

‘
I
'm more sure now. I have learned a lot about myself since then.' 'And about him?'

'No. Not much more about him. But I have learned to
accept
him, the way he is, not the way I presumed he ought to be. Whether I shall be happy all the time I am married I don't know. But I know I don't want to face my life unmarried to him.' She got up and put her hand on her father's arm.
I
am sorry to give you so much worry, Papa. I am indeed sorry if I disappoint you. But please will you give us your approval?'

He put his hand over hers. 'Have we ever denied you anything that you set your heart on?'

On the beach Clowance had said: 'There is all the difference, isn't there, between friendship and love. 1 am sure you must know far more about all this than I do, Mama
..
.But — but friendship is almost a matter of choice, isn't it. The other person is nice to you and you like him and you find you have the same tastes in common and you welcome his companionship and you become attached. It is half in the mind - perhaps more than half. It is
reasonable,
always subject to reason. Almost everything about a friendship you can explain
...
That I can find with Tom Guildford.
’

‘
Perhaps even could have with Lord Edward Fitzmaurice '

She stopped and pushed back her hair. 'Love is different.
Is
it not? Love is something that grows in your heart and in your stomach - and lower down - and it is lucky if you find you even have
tastes
in common with the person, for it makes no manner of difference. If you love, then you're in deep water, struggling. Perhaps you don't even struggle - you just go under,
drown.
You and Papa were wise in insisting that we should wait till the October to marry, for that gave me time to see things in Stephen I didn't like; and in the end I came to the surface and drew back from where I was going. My mind, my loyalties, my judgements, all told me to draw back and I obeyed them.' She paused for a long time. 'And then,' she added in a small voice,
I
found it was no good.'
I
see,' said Demelza.

I
believe you have had one or two bitter quarrels with Papa in your earlier life. Did they stop you loving him?'

'No,' said Demelza, then corrected herself. 'Once or twice, yes. For a while. Once at least I hated him.'

'That's easier, isn't it. Love and hate - they aren't that far apart. I don't know if I ever hated Stephen, or even thought I did. It was more a terrible indignation! But
nothing's
any good, is it, to break the-the tie.'

'Sometimes it happens,' said Demelza. it depends.'

I
don't think I shall ever be as much in harmony with Stephen as you are with Papa. There will be more quarrels;

but the fact that we have already had one - and a bitter one at that - shows that they don't alter the inner feeling. We've both learned from it. I sincerely believe that.'

They walked on a way in silence. Then Clowance said:

‘I
t
is
a terrible thing, isn't it.'

'What? Love?'

'Of this sort, yes. Other loves, other loyalties don't count
...
I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. You know what I mean.'

‘
I
believe so. Yes, for sure.'

'One man's voice
...
one man's eyes
...
one man's lips
...
why are they like electric charges when you hear them, see them, feel them ? And another man, perhaps just as good looking, perhaps far more worthy
...
his don't connect, cause any current at all! Is there only one such person born into the world to satisfy and electrify one other person? Or are there a number such, floating about like particles of dust in the sunshine and it is all a matter of luck -good or ill - which you meet?'

'That's nearer the truth, I suspect,' said Demelza. 'Yet if you believe the Bible, no one man - or woman - is just like another. Each one of us is unique. So one grain of dust is not just like another. There may be five - or fifty - which will create the spark in you - the electric spark - but twould not be quite the same spark in each case, never altogether the same. Yet
...'

'Yet?'

'You may go through life only seeing and feeling that electric charge in one man. Or at the most two.' 'Have you felt it in two?'
I
have felt it in two.'

Clowance took her mother's arm companionably. She knew better than to ask more.

'Well, it
is
a terrible thing,' she said again, as if by repeating it she took some of the wildness of it away, domesticated it. 'That women - and men - should be so helpless to guide their own fate! A chance meeting, and that is it! I feel so sorry for Jeremy and Cuby Trevanion. I do not believe her to be the sweetest of young women. But with him

‘I
t has happened too
...
Perhaps he will find one of his other -his other sparks of electricity in Holland or in France! Like Geoffrey Charles and his little prickly rose.'

‘
I
am so
relieved
the war is over - the main war, I mean.'

'Yes
...
yes. I would dearly love for Jeremy to be here for my wedding. I'll write him as soon as Papa has given his
consent to the date. Surely in ti
me of peace there is not much for young officers to do! I shall ask him to apply for leave.'

I

On the first of April the Allies entered Paris, led by the Tsar, the King
of Prussia, and Prince Schwarze
nberg of Austria representing his Emperor. Paris, preferring not to suffer like Moscow, had put up a frail resistance. On the eleventh Napoleon abdicated. On the thirteenth he took poison, which did not work. On the fifth of May he entered into possession of his new estate as Emperor and Sovereign of the Isle of Elba, with an annual allowance of a million francs. On his voyage out he designed a new flag for himself and his new possession. He told the sorrowing F
rench that he would return next
spring when the violets were in bloom. Lord Byron wrote a poem of grief that the great man had fallen.

At the end of April Viscount Wellington, imminently to become a Duke, but dressed in a plain blue frock coat, white neck-cloth and black top hat, flanked by General Stewart and Lord Castlereagh, made his own triumphant entry into Paris riding a white charger and watched with intense curiosity by the great crowds that lined the route. He had just been offered and had
accepted the post of Ambassador
to France.

On the
5th
May Louis XVIII, swollen with gout and self indulgence, peaceful minded, polite and pathetic, followed, to take his seat on a throne which must have still felt warm from the boiling vitality of his predecessor.

Plans were well ahead for the ruling sovereigns of the alliance to visit England, that country which, through all the bitter disappointments and defeats of two generations, had alone maintained its independence and its resolution. There were to be the greatest of festivities in London and throughout the land. In the meantime Major Geoffrey Charles
Poldark remained at Montech, north of Toulouse, living in abundance and being treated by the French with gay hospitality. Ensign Jeremy Poldark on the 9th May moved with his company into quarters in Brussels, away at last from the bitter frosts of the winter and welcomed by food and wine and girls. It was the biggest city he had ever lived in. But the poverty in parts was ghastly and the army discipline sickened him. He heard with fascination that the London
Times
was shortl
y to be printed by steam power, and that a north country man called Stephenson was putting Trevithick's designs into practice and had introduced a colliery railway at Darlington whose steam engine pulled coal wagons as far as Stockton and back. There was also an exciting new engine at Wheal Abraham in Cornwall that he wanted to hear about. Jeremy had w
ritten twice to Goldsworthy Gur
ney, but
so far had received no reply.

On the 15th May Major Geoffrey Charles Poldark received a letter from his wife telling him she was happy to say she was with child and that she expected their baby to be born in early or mid December. By the same post he heard from Clowance that she was to marry Stephen Carrington at St Sawle Church, Sawle-with-Grambler, on the last Saturday in May at noon.

All
May was a beautiful month. There was a chill in the air if you stood about long in the shade; but the sun rose a little earlier each day to warm the winds and bring out the flowers. The gorse was aflame and almost hurt the eye. Wildflowers in the hedges seemed to bloom as never before. Everything appeared to be contributing to a mood of general rejoicing.

At first Clowance had said she could not wear the same wedding dress; it would be bad luck; but Stephen said he wanted it. There must be nothing different about the wedding, nothing different at all; the last eighteen months had just been a terrible mistake, a black chasm in the thoughts which should henceforward be ignored. It was all beginning again, just as it ought to have happened in October 1812. He said to Demelza: 'Arrange it as you please, Mrs Poldark. Lots of guests if Clowance wants 'em - or none at all if she
don't. There be only one important thing to me - as there should have been before-so do whatever she wishes.'

An awkward meeting, Stephen's first visit to Nampara since his quarrel. In fact there had never been any quarrel or even hard words between Stephen and Ross or Stephen and Demelza; so there was nothing to forget, nothing to overlook, nothing to ignore. What stood between them was the knowledge that they wished she had made a better match -
or at least a securer one. He fell short of their hopes for their future son-in-law by being vaguely unreliable, rash in his decisions, unpredictable, with an exaggerated masculinity, a too easy way of talking. And the gap of eighteen months, because of the way it had happened and what had happened in it, had hardened that feeling instead of alleviating it.

Demelza thought he looked a lot older, but this might have been the effects of his illnesses. Some of the arrogance had gone out of him - temporarily or permanently one did not know. He looked more responsible. He raid Ross of his plans to develop the coastal trade, to buy o
r have built another — a third
vessel. (It was a good mark, Ross thought, that he did not mention having one of them built in their yard in Looe: he sought to make a good impression, not to curry favour.) He was frank about the profit he had made and aware that he was unlikely to repeat it. Nevertheless he had now made a beginning, a firmly based beginning which if followed up intelligently would soon make him a ship owner of some consequence. He thought eventually to offer Andrew
Blamey
a share of the business. (Always provided he could learn to hold his drink.) Although, he said, he would regret the quarrel with Clowance to his dying day, he did feel that he was now in a much better position financially to marry her. He could offer her a home, small but good enough for a beginning; he would himself limit his trips at sea so that she should not be too much on her own. In any case they were near the Blarneys, and after all only about four hours from Nampara. He very much hoped that, even though he might not be a perfect match for Clowance in their eyes, that they would give him a full and fair chance to prove himself and not hold back during these weeks and so diminish Clowance's happiness. He knew now how much she wanted them to be wholehearted in their love and good wishes at the wedding, something he had not understood before. He really understood it now. Could he rely on them?

It was hard to seem grudging after that.

The wedding day was one of the finest of the month, though by a change to a warmer breeze it presaged a change in the weather. They had invited the three
Blarneys, four Enyses, six
Trenegloses, four Kellows, Mrs Selina Pope and her two step-daughters, three Bodrugans, three Teagues, and a round dozen others. Filling the church were the Martins (Zacky looking much better), the Daniels, the Nanfans, the Carters (needless to say, not Ben), Prudie Paynter (but not Jud, who said he was some slight, and who was to deny him the privilege of being ill at his age?), the Scobles, the Curnows, and many others, so that the congregation overflowed into the churchyard and out to the gates beyond.

Demelza had asked Clowance about invitations to such people as the Falmouths and the de Dunstanvilles and the Devorans, but she had said no. Mainly they were Papa's friends and it was not necessary to invite them to a quiet family wedding.

The wedding procession assembled to leave Nampara. Ross had often thought the rough road down the valley to the house ought to be levelled to permit a carriage to come at least as far as the bridge crossing the stream. The best they had managed so far was the occasional bullock cart, but that did not seem quite suitable to convey a bride to church. Clowance pooh-poohed the whole idea. She could well sit a horse in her bridal dress; who cared about some strains on the stitchings of her fine blue satin? And she was certainly not going to jog to church in some pony cart which would be sure to upset before it even got out of the valley. All she agreed was that she should not ride Nero, who would immediately break into a gallop and have her at the church before the others were mounted. She accepted Ladybird, an
elderly mare who could be rel
ied on to follow where she was
led. The bridesmaids were I
sabella-Rose and Sophie Enys,
also both in blue satin, with yellow hats trimmed with trailing blue ribbons. Bella had been dancing about on her toes for twenty minutes before anyone else was ready and earning the reproofs of Mrs Kemp for getting her shoes soiled in the long grass by the library wall, when suddenly she uttered a long piercing scream which was discordant even by her standards.

When all other noise in the neighbourhood had necessarily ceased she stood on tip toe and pointed up the valley and said one wailing word: 'Jeremy!'

Then she was gone, frock fluttering, hat flying, across the bridge and up the valley. There was a short pause before several of the others made a move to follow. Through the nut trees and the hawthorns, which were still only in their infant green, a tall thin man in a red jacket and a shiny black hat could be seen riding down the lane.

I
knew
he'd come!' whispered Clowance.
I
knew
he'd come!'

The soldier emerged finally into full view at the bridge,, with Bella riding in front of him. He vaulted off his horse, letting his younger sister slide down after him, embraced Demelza, then Clowance, then grasped his father about the shoulders.

‘I
s it over? Am I too late?'

'No, no, no, we are just setting out! Oh, Jeremy —'

'By God, I thought I should never arrive in time. By God, I had given myself two days' leeway but, as you sec, it was scarce enough! It would have been a damned long way to travel to arrive after the ceremony was over!... And where is Stephen, has he run off at the last minute? No, I see, of course, of course. Mama, you look beautiful: it takes absence to appreciate these things. And as for my sister!... Well, now?
’

'Which one?'
said Bella.

'Both, of course. But more particularly today the one who is shortly to be wed -'

I
shall be wed soon,' said Bella. 'That is if anyone will have me!'

'I'll
have you!' said Jeremy. 'Any day. You would be just my sort of wife
...
You are well; all of you? It is a
perfect
day. But what a journey! If I am to make my career in the army you must all move to Dover!'

So they chattered like a bunch of starlings, each getting a word in but cut short by another. After ten minutes, when Jeremy was consuming some biscuits and a glass of wine, Mrs Kemp said to Demelza:

'If you please, ma'am. We shall be late.'

‘I
t doesn't matter-'

‘
Very good,'said Jeremy, overhearing and swallowing a last biscuit, 'this marriage has been delayed before. I shall not be responsible. Mama, I trust you will allow me to partner you into church -'

'What about
me
?’
said Bella,
I
saw him first!'

'You're a bridesmaid, my lover,' Demelza said gently. 'As you know very well, you will partner Sophie, and follow behind the bride.'

'Oh,
Sophie,'
said Bella. 'She's not a
man!’
In the laughter that followed Jeremy took his mother's hand and squeezed it. She was too full to speak, and he knew it. Ross who in his quiet way grieved more about Clowance's marriage than Demelza, thought, well,
he
is home. If you have four children it spreads the pleasure and the anxiety but seems to diminish neither. Hostages to fortune, as someone was saying. But
Demelza
is happy now. It has changed her day. He is home.

II

It was very difficult these days being married by the Rev. Clarence Odgers; his wife as usual had to stand beside him to make sure he rememb
ered the Christian names correctl
y and did not wander off into the Burial service by mistake. But eventually it was done. Stephen, broad-shouldered but
still gaunt, his hair trimmed shorter than usual and smoothed back, in a semi-naval suit that reminded Jeremy uncomfortably of Lieutenant Morgan Lean, RN, passenger on the Elegant Light Post Coach,
Self-Defence
on Monday
25th
January
1813,
stood by his blue silk-clad bride, who was at least two shades blonder than he, and swore to love, honour and cherish her in sickness and in health - as she had very recently done to him - and so in a comparatively short time they were married till death them did part, in a bond that no man should put asunder. And they emerged into the sunshine and the rice and the smiling faces of all Clowance's friends.

A small dinner for all the invited guests in the library; it lasted till four, but the days were stretching ever longer and the ride home would still be all daylight. Clowance went upstairs and changed into a new plum-purple riding habit, a cockade hat with ribbons, and a plum-purple cloak and fine leather gloves.

All Stephen had had time to say to Jeremy so far was,
'Glad
you're back,
boy,' but now it was time to leave.

'How long are ye home?'

'A week. Perhaps a little more. So much of my leave will be taken up with travelling.' 'D'you have to go back?' 'Oh, yes!'