Old Sins Long Shadows (19 page)

‘
What the hell is going on here?’ an angry male voice asked from behind James. Janey felt a surge of relief that someone had interrupted him, then instantly shrank with shame as she recognised the voice, hating the sunlight shining on her as James moved aside. His movement unveiled her downfall to the newcomer who’s shadow came to loom over them in the confides of the old stone walls. She did not need to see his face, she did not need to see his stricken expression when he recognised the woman in James’ arms and she did not need to see it change instantly to revulsion and disgust. Her shame was complete that he had found her with a man’s hand up her skirt. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’  Daniel Kellow demanded. It was not clear who he was talking to but James’ arrogance assumed it must be him.

‘
Daniel. How are you?’

‘
Get out!’ James was puzzled, there was nothing wrong with being caught having a bit of rough and tumble with a woman. He was a man after all and, no doubt, Daniel had had his fair share of a roll in the hay.

‘
What are you talking about?’

‘
You are on my land. Get out.’  Daniel’s voice was controlled but deadly. He was on the verge of exploding and he looked as if any moment he would kill.

‘
How dare you talk to me like that.’ James retaliated, trying to pull rank by using his most aristocratic tone but Daniel took no notice.

‘
I’m warning you. Get out. Or the foxes will be having a fine supper tonight.’

‘
Are you threatening me? You murdering oaf!’

‘
As they say, the first kill is the hardest, after that it’s easy.’ James visibly paled. ‘Now this is my land and you are trespassing. Get the hell out before I throw you off it!’

James pick
ed up his gloves. ‘You have not heard the last of this, Kellow,’ he said marching out. Climbing roughly up into his saddle and swearing with indignation, he galloped off, forgetting the woman still trapped inside.

“I’m glad you arrived
,” said Janey. Her words sounded false as she wished it had not been Daniel who had found her. She wanted to be alone and prepared to leave but Daniel barred her way.

‘
Not yet,’ he ground out angrily. Janey halted and watched James leave.

‘
You shouldn’t have spoken to him like that. He may cause you trouble,’ she said quietly.

‘Your lover does not need your protection.’

‘
He is not my lover.’

‘
Not your only lover, you mean.’ Daniel was hurt, he had lived on his memories of their last meeting, yet here she was, in the arms of another man and when Daniel hurt he wanted to hurt others. ‘Pawing you. Touching you.’

‘
He was forcing himself upon me!’

‘
Why did you meet with him here if you are not lovers?’

‘
It is not what it appears,’ she argued.

‘
He was kissing you!  He had his hands all over you!’

‘
Whatever it looked like it was not so!’

Daniel was at boiling point,
‘I heard you! All the bloody village could hear you crying his name.  God almighty, woman, if I’d known you were that easy I would have had you myself by the river!’  Janey slapped him. Daniel grabbed her shoulders and pressed her up against the wall. ‘Do you like it rough?  Perhaps up against the wall with the thrill of being discovered?  Only it was me who discovered you, wasn’t it?’ He touched her forehead with his, the fight leaving his body, ‘Perhaps that is why you chose this place,’ he mused, ‘in the hope it would be me. Give you a sick pleasure does it?  Seeing two lovers at the same time?’

‘
You are not my lover!’ she breathed, hating his insults yet also hating to see his hurt.

‘
Do you not think I know that?’

‘
He
is not my lover,’ she whispered more gently.

Daniel closed his eyes, their foreheads still touching. Slowly he released her shoulders taking in what she had said.

‘I’m sorry. I should not have touched you. He will never marry you.’

‘
I know,’ she replied

‘
The best you can get is to be set up in a separate house, leading a life as his mistress, bearing a brood of bastards without a name.’

‘
I know.’

‘
He is no gentleman,’ he continued, ‘A gentleman does not leave a woman alone with a murderer.’

It was the first time the rumours about him were laid out between them
. She knew he was waiting for her response and that it was important to him.

‘
I see no murderer,’ she replied gently. They stood facing each other. Janey felt tarnished by James’ touch and foolish for placing herself in such an isolated and vulnerable situation. Daniel, on the other hand, was not only hurt but feeling foolish for thinking there had been anything between them on the bank of the river.

Looking her up and down, not disguising the disgust on his face he replied,
‘What you see is not always what it seems.’

She knew he was mean
ing her, that his view of her had changed and this injustice gave her strength. She gathered up her shawl.

‘
Perhaps you should remember that, Daniel. James and I are not lovers, never have been, or ever will be.’ She left him standing alone in the falling down building with a cold breeze building up outside. He was not convinced. Why would a lady’s maid call Lord Brockenshaw’s son by his Christian name?  Why was she alone with him in an isolated building on the edge of the moor, if there was not something going on between them?  What chance did a farmer have against a powerful man of the gentry with land and money to provide her with comforts if not a wedding ring?  Daniel picked up a piece of granite and threw it angrily at the one remaining window. Its glass shattered into a hundred shards, just as his heart had done when he first entered the place just a few moments ago.

Chapter 8

Janey spent the remainder of the afternoon
avoiding James Brockenshaw. By the evening he had gone. Not for the first time she felt a great weight lift from her shoulders at his absence and she began to smile again. Everyone noticed her change in mood and when Janey was happy it affected others. Suddenly light hearted banter filled the kitchens and meal times were relaxed and happy despite Miss Petherbridge’s aloof disapproval. It wasn’t that Janey’s recent mood had adversely affected her fellow workers but her recent quietness had not lifted the opposing atmosphere that Miss Petherbridge had cultivated in her domain downstairs. Now, with Janey’s cheerfulness, everyone else’s worries and stresses evaporated also.

Lady Brockenshaw noted her lightness b
ut refused to acknowledge it was due to her son’s departure. She preferred to believe that it was because the worst of the winter months were over or Janey had had some good news. She did not enquire the reason as she did not want to know the truth or put Janey in the position of lying to save her feelings.

Miss Petherbridge had also noticed
. She sat at the head of the table eating her meal, watching silently as Janey and Mary conversed easily across the table with Mr Tallock occasionally joining in. Miss Petherbridge now felt the outsider whilst Janey had been whole heartedly accepted within the arms and affections of the downstairs workforce. Not that Miss Petherbridge minded not being their friend, she had no wish to be, unlike Mr Tallock who seemed to think it was important to be well liked as well as respected. Miss Petherbridge did not think you needed to have both qualities, in fact she felt it was impossible to achieve both and run the household as it should be run. No, what bothered Miss Petherbridge, she thought as she continued to observe her staff, is why the woman was so happy when the object of her hearts affections was no longer in the house?  She narrowed her eyes in thought. Her only conclusion was that he had made some promise to her. Perhaps he had returned her affections? Perhaps he had offered her a higher position within the household on his return?  Perhaps he was going to set her up in a house of her own?

‘
Have you heard about it, Miss Petherbridge?’  The sound of her name brought her back to the servant’s hall and all the staff looking at her waiting for a reply.

She refused to be rattled
. ‘About what, Mr Tallock?’ she replied, putting her fork down.

‘
Scarlet fever is rampant in Bodmin at the moment.’

‘
No I had not, Mr Tallock,’ she smiled without humour, ‘Unfortunately there is always some fever doing the rounds.’

‘
Fever always gives a cause for concern,’ said Mr Tallock, neatly placing his knife and fork on his plate and sitting back. ‘Lovely meal, Mrs Friggens.’  The cook thanked him and they returned to the subject of the epidemic. ‘St.Wenna’s an isolated village. Fortunately it often escapes such fevers but when it is as prevalent as it seems to be at the moment in Bodmin, we must do all we can to prevent it reaching us here. If the village succumbs there will be many cases.’

‘
The working classes are more at risk, Mr Tallock,’ the housekeeper replied. Mary raised an eyebrow as all of them sitting at the table were working class.

Finishing
her meal Janey disagreed, ‘Not always. My two sisters died of scarlet fever. At the time we were living in Cromwell Street in Truro, a very middle class area.’

‘
Was that before or after your father left the family to fend for themselves?’ It was a spiteful thing to bring up at the table but the housekeeper could not stop herself. It was Janey’s turn not to be rattled.

‘
Before, Miss Petherbridge,’ she replied. ‘I bring this up because it is best to remember that the fever does not care what class you are from or age. We should all take precautions.’

Miss Petherbridge waved a hand at
Charlotte to indicate she should clear the table.

‘
You place yourself in an authoritative position, Carhart. Perhaps you should enlighten us with your expertise.’

Janey did not reply immediately but Mr Tallock encouraged her to continue.

‘Scarlet fever can present in mild forms as to be of no consequence, but it can also be a very serious disease indeed and fatal.’

‘
You tell us nothing we do not already know.’

Janey ignored the housekeeper,
‘A doctor can prescribe chlorate of potash, spirits of nitrate, and a simple syrup to ease symptoms. Onset is often sudden, beginning with a sore throat, shivering and a headache. It develops on the second day into a rash behind the ears, which spreads to the arms and legs. Those suffering fever should be kept in bed, even in mild cases. Particularly if the weather is cold and for a considerable time after the eruption has disappeared.’

‘
Are you suggesting that any member of staff who has a headache should be put to bed?’  Miss Petherbridge scoffed.

‘I’m suggesting more than that.’ Janey turned to Mr Tallock in the hope of a more sympathetic ear. ‘I suggest anyone who has even the mildest symptoms should be isolated from the remaining staff. The staff member who is taking on the nursing duties should not mix with the rest of the staff before changing her clothing and washing. The linen and bedclothes used should be well boiled. Anything that can not be washed with a solution of chloride of lime or boiled should be burned. A container of the solution ought to be kept in the room for such purposes.’  Janey turned to Mary who was listening intently, ‘I’ve also read that another measure which tends to prevent the spread of the disease is to oil the patient's skin daily, while it is peeling.’

Miss Petherbridge scraped back her chair as she stood abruptly making everyone turn to look at her.

‘Thank you, Miss Nightingale.’  She surveyed her staff like a headmistress surveying a room full of naughty children. ‘But for now scarlet fever is in Bodmin which is twelve miles away and the summer will soon be here. As we all know these fevers all but disappear in the warmer months so I don’t think it is helpful to spread fear and panic. There is work to be done. Mrs Friggens, we will leave dessert for today, I think everyone has had their fill, thanks to Janey’s story telling.’

‘
I saw my sisters die, Miss Petherbridge,’ replied Janey in an icy tone, ‘I would have given anything to have known how to nurse them. It may have made a difference.’

Miss Petherbridge gave her an uncaring measured look
.

‘
I have heard that guilt can be a motivator to become the expert. I see now that it is true. We will hear no more about it.’ She looked at the others, ‘Mr Tallock, I wish to discuss the accounts with you, if you are available. The rest of you - get back to your chores.’ She turned and left the room with the butler following obediently behind. For the first time in days the servant’s hall was deathly quiet, as quiet as the newly dug graves at Bodmin cemetery twelve miles away.