Beyond the Storm (11 page)

Quick to seize the unexpected reprieve from the bull’s
attentions
, Tristram managed to scramble to the safety of the lych-gate, where he was hurriedly hauled to safety by Alice and her brother and the gate slammed shut behind him.

‘Are you alright?’ The anxious question came from a concerned Alice.

‘I am now.’ Seated on the ground outside the lych-gate,
Tristram rubbed his upper arm which had struck the wall when he was thrown against it by the bull. ‘I am going to have a fair bruise there, but nothing worse … thanks to Eliza.’

He nodded to where she stood shaking but triumphant, still clutching the pitchfork.

‘Lieutenant Kendall once said she was a very resourceful girl,’ Alice declared, ‘and she has proved it once again. Your actions were very brave too, Tristram, you undoubtedly saved Eliza’s life.’

Looking at her brother who seemed bewildered by the events of the last couple of minutes, she added, ‘We are most fortunate to have two such young people in our employ, David. Now I think we should all return to the rectory and have a strong cup of tea, then find the constable. He can deal with Mr Moyle and have his animals removed from the churchyard.’

The cattle were removed from the churchyard the following day but not by Eval Moyle. A neighbouring farmer and his grown-up son eventually succeeded in leading the bull away with the aid of a rope passed through the ring in its nose, and they subsequently purchased a number of the cows when they were sold off after being impounded and not claimed within the requisite time.

Of Eval Moyle there was no sign. As a result, he could not be brought to account for turning his animals loose in the
churchyard
, but if he had run away as a result of the warrant that was issued for his arrest in respect of the riot that took place in Truro, he had left the area unnecessarily.

When those who
had
been arrested came to court, the case was dismissed, a clever defence lawyer pointing out that the wording of the Riot Act stated that if those involved dispersed within an hour of the Act being read out by a magistrate, it was no longer a riot – and that is what had happened.

As a result, all those involved in the Truro disturbance went
free, it being impossible to prove who among them was actually involved in the assault of the constables, and it not being
considered
worthwhile pursuing the matter any further.  

Soon afterwards rumours began to circulate that Moyle had gone to America where it was believed Primitive Methodism was gaining a strong following. No doubt Moyle would be accepted there, for a while, at least.  

Meanwhile, his land was being farmed by his long-suffering younger brother who had always been a partner in the farm left to them by their father but had been overshadowed by his
domineering
brother. Alone on the farm, he was at pains to remain at peace with his neighbours.  

For now it was enough that Cornwall was rid of Eval Moyle.

T
HREE YEARS HAD
elapsed since Eliza’s rescue from the rocks at the sea’s edge below the Cornish cliffs. Three happy and settled years, which had passed quickly at Trethevy.

Although it would never be possible for her to forget the manner of her arrival in the Kilpeck household, the memory of life before that time had receded to such an extent that it was almost as though all that had gone before had happened to someone else.

Eliza Brooks was no more. She had died with the other women convicts on board the doomed
Cormorant
.

There was also more in her life than work now. The incident involving Eval Moyle’s bull, when Eliza and Tristram were each instrumental in saving the life of the other, had forged a bond between them which had slowly but steadily grown stronger with the passage of time.

Reverend David Kilpeck, in particular, ensured that their
relationship
remained within the bounds of ‘propriety’, but recently he had raised no objections to them walking out together on a Sunday afternoon, when both were freed from their duties to the rector and his sister, and had dutifully attended morning service in the Trethevy church.

It was the young couple who were the subject of Alice and David’s conversation now, as brother and sister travelled by pony and trap to Tintagel Church, where David was to conduct evensong.

Along the way they overtook Eliza and Tristram, who were also on their way to the same church to witness the baptism of a workhouse baby when the service was over.

After waves were exchanged, David, always anxious to be seen to be ‘doing the right thing’, asked Alice anxiously, ‘Do you think I should have offered them a ride to church? It seems rather mean to leave them walking when we have room in the trap for them.’

‘They would not thank you for such a suggestion and were holding hands before they heard us coming along behind them,’ Alice replied. ‘They enjoy each other’s company and I give them little opportunity to spend time with each other at the rectory.’

‘As is right and proper,’ David declared, pompously. ‘There is far too much immorality in the parish. I don’t think I have married one girl in the past year who has not been
enceinte
when she walks down the aisle. It is quite scandalous. I expect our staff at Trethevy to set an example.’

Smiling to herself at her brother’s reluctance to use the word ‘pregnant’ when describing the brides being married in his church, Alice said, ‘I have spoken to Eliza on the subject and am confident she will not let you down, David. Tristram too is an honourable young man, we have been extremely fortunate in our choice of servants, but that reminds me, there is a fair at Camelford next month and Tristram has asked for permission to take Eliza there. I have said he might, subject to your consent, of course.’

‘Do you think that wise, Alice? It is a long way to Camelford, five miles or more and they will be returning home in the dark! I share your trust in them but they are both young and healthy and are obviously very fond of each other. It would be foolish to put unnecessary temptation in their way.’

Aware of her brother’s strong and somewhat puritanical views about the morals of young people, Alice said, ‘I think we might be able to find an answer to that problem, David. In the last letter I received from Jory he mentioned the fair. In addition to all the entertainments there, it is a well-known hiring-fair and he intends being present to recruit young men for both the Coast Guard and the Royal Navy. The letter was sent some time ago and his plans might have changed, but if they have not I thought it would be a nice idea to invite him to stay with us at the rectory after the fair and ask him to bring Tristram and Eliza home with him.’

David did not reply to her suggestion immediately. Aware that Alice had a very deep affection for Jory Kendall, he believed the naval officer would one day ask her to marry him. It would be an excellent marriage for her, of course, one of which their late parents would have heartily approved, but it would pose a great many problems for
him
.

He could not possibly continue to have only a young maid living in the rectory with him. He would need to take on a housekeeper, an elderly lady, and quite apart from the extra cost involved, they would need to learn each other’s ways. It would cause disruption to what was at present a very pleasant way of life.

Nevertheless, to refuse to allow Jory Kendall to spend a night at the rectory would not only be churlish but deeply upsetting for Alice.

‘Have you already made mention of this to Jory?’

‘Not yet. I wanted to speak to you about it first.’

After thinking it over for a little longer, David nodded his approval. ‘It would be a very hospitable thing to do, but I feel it might be more appropriate for such an offer to come from me. Remind me when we return to the rectory tonight and I will write and extend an invitation to him.’

Giving her brother’s arm an affectionate squeeze, Alice said, ‘You
are
a generous brother, David, but I know you enjoy Jory’s
company too. Oh, I forgot to mention, in his letter Jory mentioned that an uncle, the Bishop of Winchester, will be paying a visit to the Kendalls’ family home soon. He says that while the bishop is there he will arrange for you to meet with him.’

Alice had
not
forgotten to mention this piece of information to her brother, but had been keeping it in reserve should David prove difficult about allowing Jory to stay at the Trethevy rectory on the night of the Camelford fair.

David was an ambitious cleric and although he thoroughly enjoyed his work in North Cornwall he had said on more than one occasion that Trethevy was very much a backwater where he was unlikely ever to meet with anyone able to further his career in the Church.

The Bishop of Winchester was a very influential figure in the Church of England hierarchy and able to do a great deal to help David if he was so inclined.

Alice also had hopes that Jory Kendall might one day ask her to marry him and by consenting to the marriage, as she certainly would, she realised the problems it would pose for both David and herself. She felt it her duty to take care of her brother, and had promised her dying mother she would do so. The most
satisfactory
solution would be for
him
to find a wife but since coming to Cornwall they had met with no one even remotely suitable.

However, she was trying to find solutions to problems that had not yet arisen. Although she had known Jory for some three years she had never met with any of his family – and they might not approve of her.

Indeed, for some time she had not seen as much of Jory as she would have liked. Although still a coast guard officer he had
succeeded
in achieving his wish for command of a ship. He was now the commanding officer of a coast guard cutter, the
Vixen
, patrolling the whole of the Cornish coast, both north and south.

On a couple of occasions
Vixen
had anchored in the cove where Jory and Alice had first met and he had climbed up the steep cliff path to pay a surprise visit to the rectory. However, his visits were few and far between and as a consequence their relationship had not progressed as rapidly as she had hoped it might.

Alice was aware she was in love with Jory, but there had been none of the excitement she had always expected to accompany such a depth of feeling for the man she wanted to marry.

Her thoughts were interrupted by David. As they were passing through a tiny hamlet with houses scattered on both sides of the lane on which they were travelling, he said, ‘I would like to stop here for a few minutes, Alice. I wish to call in on a veteran of the Peninsular wars. He and his wife live here with their increasingly demented daughter and I fear for their safety. I want to check they are alright.’

‘Would you like me to come in with you?’

‘No, the daughter becomes very agitated at meeting strangers, it has taken me a long time to gain her confidence and persuade her to pray with me. The old soldier says my prayers are better than anything the doctor gives her and she is quiet for a couple of days afterwards. Sadly she will need to go into an asylum soon because the parents are becoming too old to take care of her and they are dreading it. Life is very difficult for them but they love the girl deeply. Indeed, their whole life is centred about her.’

‘All right, go in and see her now but tell the girl’s parents I would like to call on them sometime to see if I might do anything to help them. The girl might come to accept me in time.’

‘That would be very nice. There is nowhere to tie the pony, but I will leave the reins over the rail where you can reach them if she decides to wander off. I won’t be long.’

When David had gone Alice sat in the four-wheeled trap, thinking her own thoughts and looking at the cottages of the tiny hamlet. Some were thatched, others had slate roofing but all were
old and shabby, the one David was visiting particularly so, its thatch ragged and stained with patches of variable coloured moss and mould, and there were a number of small panes of glass missing from the leaded windows.

The gardens were better cared for than the cottages, a few having roses growing around doorways and windows,
distracting
attention from peeling paint and rotting woodwork.

The condition of the cottages in this particular hamlet was not unusual, here in North Cornwall. The parish served by Reverend David Kilpeck was in an area where poverty was an ever-present problem and it was hardly surprising that those who lived here should turn to non-conformist religions that promised them better things in after-life.

All these things were going through Alice’s mind and as a result she was only vaguely aware of a horse trotting along the lane behind the stationary pony and trap.

Suddenly, a large dog emerged from the garden of the cottage next to the one David was visiting and, dashed at the horse and rider, barking furiously. The sound startled Alice – but it alarmed the Kilpecks’ pony more. Throwing up its head with a snort of fright the animal bolted, and Alice was catapulted backwards to land inelegantly, legs in air, in the rear of the four-wheeled vehicle.

Scrambling to her knees with difficulty in the bouncing and lurching vehicle, she looked for the reins. To her dismay they were no longer hanging over the front rail but were trailing in the dust of the lane, beneath the careering vehicle.

Alice realised she was in grave danger. The pony was
galloping
out of control with the light trap bouncing along on the uneven lane behind it and likely to overturn at any moment. She was also aware that not far ahead there was a sharp bend at the end of a short downhill stretch of lane. If the pony maintained its present speed the trap would certain overturn – but there was nothing at all she could do about it!

At that moment a horse and rider overtook the trap, the horse travelling at a reckless gallop, its rider crouching low on its back, outstretched arms gripping the rein. Bringing his horse alongside the runaway pony, the rider reached out and took a firm grip on the pony’s bridle, then, using sheer physical strength, pulled the pony’s head down to one side, at the same time slowing his own mount.

For a few terrifying moments Alice feared his actions would cause pony, trap, horse and rider to veer off the lane but the unknown rider proved to be a very skilled horseman. Gradually the pony slowed and was eventually brought to a halt, to stand, glistening with sweat, its sides heaving and shivering with fright in consequence of its recent experience.

‘Are you alright?’ The rider put the question to Alice as he gathered up the long reins trailing from the pony and handed them up to her as she climbed back into the trap’s driving seat.

‘I will be when I have time to catch my breath – thanks entirely to you. Had you not been at hand to show such presence of mind I fear I might well have lost my life when we reached the bend ahead.’

‘I am glad I was able to be of help. It was the fault of that stupid hound back there.’ The rider spoke with a cultured voice and, suddenly smiling, he added, ‘I must say, it is the most excitement I have had since returning from cavalry duty in India!’

When he smiled at her, Alice realised he was an extremely handsome man. She also knew intuitively it was something of which he was very much aware – but he
had
undoubtedly saved her life.

There was a shout from farther back along the lane they had just traversed so dramatically and they both turned to see David running towards them, wide-brimmed hat clutched in his hand.

‘Your little escapade would appear to have given your husband something of a fright,’ Alice’s rescuer commented.

‘He is my brother, not my husband. Reverend Kilpeck is rector of Trethevy and curate at Tintagel, where he is due to take a service this evening. We stopped for only a few minutes in order that he might visit a needy parishioner.’

‘He has an impressive turn of speed for a man of the cloth,’ the horseman said, dryly, ‘but then, there can be few parish priests who have such an attractive sister to be concerned about.’ Giving Alice a bold look, he added, ‘I am Hugo Trevelyan, by the way,
Captain
Hugo Trevelyan. You are…?’  

‘Alice Kilpeck, and my brother is David.’  

Alice was aware that Captain Trevelyan had gone beyond the bounds of etiquette by his remark about her ‘attractiveness’, and perhaps she should have been offended, but she was not. Alice had never before met a man quite like Hugo Trevelyn and she found him both attractive and exciting.  

David had witnessed the pony bolt with Alice in the trap and when he reached them he was fulsome in his breathless gratitude to the dashing young army officer.  

Captain Hugo Trevelyan rode alongside the pony and trap for the remainder of the journey to Tintagel and left with a promise that he would call in at the Trethevy rectory when he returned from his visit to Padstow in a few days time.