Penmarric (52 page)

The weatherbeaten old signboard was still standing. I looked at its faded arm as we rode past and read the familiar inscription: “To Zillan, Chûn and Ding Dong Mine.”

“Why don’t we ride out to Chûn?” called Marcus. “We’d have a first-class view from the ridge today.”

“All right.”

I had a pang of uneasiness when I remembered how Hugh and I had been to Chûn before visiting Roslyn Farm two summers ago, but the uneasiness passed. It was an exhilarating morning for riding, and as we rode past Carn Kenidjack the wind whipped scudding white clouds across the sky and sent fleeting shadows across the heather. Presently when the path allowed us to ride two abreast Marcus began to talk of Oxford, relating amusing anecdotes of his life there, but soon the path narrowed again and conversation became difficult. We tried to talk once or twice, but the wind whipped away our words as soon as they left our lips and after a while we gave up the attempt and traveled in silence across the heather. We passed Carnforth Circles, crossed the lane which later joined the road from St. Just to Penzance, and rode onto the moor again by skirting the edge of Woon Gumpus Common. We were climbing steadily now and at last we reached the ridge to find before us, rising from the heather, the ancient walls of Chûn.

The view’s clear, isn’t it?” called Marcus over his shoulder. “How blue the sea of Mount’s Bay is!”

The view was indeed superb. I stared at the south for some minutes before turning north to Morvah and the cliffs.

“Let’s rest for a moment in the castle,” suggested Marcus. “We can shelter behind the walls out of the wind.”

“All right”

We reached the outer walls of the castle and, dismounting, led our horses into the inner enclosure. I was just about to hitch the reins to a convenient rock when a well-remembered voice drawled behind me, “Well, well, well! Fancy seeing you here!”

I spun around. Philip was lounging casually against the walls, and Hugh was beside him.

“Well, well, well!” echoed Marcus with elaborate surprise. “What a coincidence!”

They smiled at one another and then all turned to look at me. As the smiles gradually died from their eyes I felt my heart begin to bump uncomfortably against my ribs.

“Please don’t bother to pretend,” I said quickly to Marcus. “I can’t think why you considered it necessary in the first place. If you’d told me that you, Philip and Hugh had something you wished to discuss with me at Chûn I would willingly have come of my own accord.”

“You know damned well you wouldn’t have done anything of the kind,” said Philip. “You’d have told Marcus to go to hell.”

I checked the angry reply which rose to my lips and instead said politely, “That’s a matter of opinion. However, since I’m here I’m perfectly willing to discuss whatever you wish. What is it you want to talk about?”

There was a silence. I was aware of their cool light eyes appraising me with hostility. I clenched my hands and waited.

“Do let’s sit down,” said Marcus suddenly. “After all, there’s no reason why we should all stand around dramatically like characters on a stage. Do you smoke, Adrian? Have a cigarette.”

“I don’t smoke, thank you,” I said stiffly and watched him take out a packet of cigarettes to offer Philip and Hugh.

They all lit their cigarettes. We sat down casually, Philip with his back to the ancient walls, Hugh on a slab of rock nearby, and Marcus and I on a patch of grassy turf. Although the sky was still streaked with high white clouds the sun was warm and the horses tossed their heads impatiently as they waited for us.

“Who’s going to conduct this meeting, Marcus?” demanded Philip. “You or I? You seem very reluctant to start.”

“I was just trying to think of a civilized approach to the problem,” said Marcus with engaging frankness. He smiled at me. “I’m awfully sorry about all this, Adrian old chap, but the fact is we’re all rather—well, rather embarrassed about certain things, and we thought that if we could all have a little talk together—”

“Oh my God, Marcus!” said Philip. “Call a spade a spade, can’t you?” He leaned forward, and as he moved I realized I preferred his blunt honesty to Marcus’ determined efforts to appear friendly. “Look here,” said Philip directly to me. “There are some things we want to know. First of all, why did Father give you Grandfather’s gold watch?”

After a moment I said, “He wanted me to have it.”

“Why?”

“Because he felt Grandfather would have wanted me to have it.”

“Why?”

“He said I was the one who was most like Grandfather.”

They digested this unwelcome statement in stony silence.

“You have no right to that watch,” said Philip narrowly at last

“I have every right to it,” I said. “It belonged to Papa and he gave it to me, as he was legally entitled to. There’s no law against accepting a gift from someone entitled to give.”

“You seem to be getting on very well with Father, at the moment.”

“We’re on good terms with each other, certainly.”

“What kind of game are you playing?”

“I don’t understand you.”

“Has he given you money?”

“Of course! I make no secret of the fact that I have an allowance.”

“I mean has he given you large sums as a gift over and above your allowance?”

“No, but if he had it would be none of your business.”

“It certainly would. You’re not entitled to his money.”

“If he chooses to give me what is his to give I most certainly am entitled to it.”

“Has he discussed his will with you?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact he did once. He told us that although William and I could expect a legacy the bulk of his fortune would go elsewhere and we would always have to earn our living.”

Hugh said casually, “Was this recently?”

“The last time the subject came up was three years ago.”

“Three years ago?”

“Yes. It was after my mother died.”

“Past history really.”

I said nothing.

“He hasn’t discussed his will with you recently?”

“If he had,” I said, “it would be none of your business, and I should hold it as confidential information. If he wished to discuss his private affairs with any of you he would presumably do so in person.”

“You’re hoping, of course, that the legacy’s a large one.”

“I’m certainly not expecting it to be large. Otherwise Papa would hardly have told me I’d have to earn my living.”

They stared at me.

“You see, Adrian—” Marcus began, but he was interrupted.

“I’ll handle this, if you don’t mind, Marcus,” said Philip. He looked at me directly again. “If you think for one moment,” he said to me at last, “that you can cheat us all out of our inheritance—”

“I’ve just said—”

“Never mind what you just said! You were referring to something that was said three bloody years ago, and we’re not interested in past history even if you are! We’re interested in the present—and the future. We think—”

“If you think for one moment,” I said, trying to keep my temper, “that I’m conducting some monstrous plot to swindle you all, you must be completely mad. I don’t want your wretched inheritance! I detest Penmarric! I don’t deny that Papa and I get on well together, but if Papa happens to prefer me to you, Philip Castallack, I for one wouldn’t blame him. What have you ever done to give him cause to feel affectionate toward you? You never even come near him! If he prefers me to you, you have only yourself to blame!”

“So you
are
trying to wangle your way into his affections and get him to make a will in your favor,” said Philip at once. “We thought you were. Hugh and Marcus have both noticed how you’ve been attracting attention to yourself recently by pretending to be interested in his work. They’ve noticed how you’ve been spending hour after hour with him in his damned study. They’ve noticed—”

“Steady on, Philip,” Marcus said nervously. “Steady on.”

“If you’re not trying to steal the inheritance,” said Hugh smoothly, “give Marcus Grandfather’s gold watch in token of your good faith.”

“My word is my good faith!” I yelled at him. “If you weren’t such a bloody liar yourself you’d understand that! Grandfather’s watch is mine and it stays mine and that’s all I have to say on the subject.” I began to stand up.

“Sit down,” said Philip. “We haven’t finished.”

“You have as far as I’m concerned.”

“Sit down!”

“Like hell I will!”

We stood facing each other, fists clenched, muscles taut. For the first time in our lives he was no longer taller than I was.

“Please!” exclaimed Marcus, scrambling nervously to his feet. “Do let’s be civilized. No violence—nothing sordid. Please.”

I stepped back a pace, shrugged my shoulders, shoved my fists into my trouser pockets. “What else do you wish to say?” I said crisply to Philip.

“Just this,” said Philip. “Just this. Marcus and I both need money and we’re not going to tolerate any attempts you may make to stand in our way. If you want to show us your good intentions you’ll help us by doing two things. First, you can find a copy of Father’s latest will and see what it says. You have access to his papers, and if he catches you in his study you can always claim you’re looking for some manuscript or other—good God, you can think up an excuse! Judging from what I’ve heard, you spend half your time in the study anyway. When you’ve found the will, show it to Marcus and Hugh and replace it again as soon as they’ve read it. We want to see how the money is divided so that we can ask for a portion in advance.”

“If you’re suggesting I should sneak into his study and pry among his papers like some common thief—”

“You want to show us your good intentions, don’t you?”

“I don’t display my good intentions by stooping to such degrading behavior!”

“Damn you, Adrian, you’re not going to stand in our way! We want that money and we want to know what’s in that will and if you don’t bloody well do as you’re told—”

“Yes?” I said. “What’s the next threat?”

“—Marcus will see there isn’t a soul in all Oxford who doesn’t know your true relationship to the eminent historian Mark Castallack. You’ll find everyone sniggering at you behind your back when you go up for your first term in October.”

The wind hummed over the stone walls and cooled my cheeks. I kept my head, managed to remain calm.

“Marcus wouldn’t have the guts to be such an out-and-out bastard,” I said, stammering a little over the word but otherwise speaking strongly enough. That’s an empty threat if ever I heard one. Very well! So you want me to do your own dirty work for you and find out about the will and now you know my answer. I shan’t. What was the second favor you wanted to ask me?”

They were all furious. Marcus was red at the implication that he was too weak to carry out a threat. Hugh was white with indignation that I should be so annoyingly insubordinate, and Philip was speechless with rage at my refusal to be browbeaten.

“Well?” I said. “What is it? You may as well tell me. What was the second thing you wanted me to do?”

Philip managed to control himself. As he began to speak, the sun went behind a bank of clouds and the wind whistled eerily over the darkened landscape so that his voice sounded distorted and far away. “Go to your friend Alice Penmar,” I heard him say deliberately, “and find out if she’s taken your mother’s place in Father’s bedroom.”

After a long silence I managed to laugh. “You’re mad,” I said and turned away to my horse.

“Adrian, if you don’t cooperate with us and do your best to help, it’ll be patently obvious that you’re simply out for what you can get where Father’s concerned. If you had a single spark of fraternal feeling-—”

“Don’t you dare speak to me of fraternal feeling!” I whirled around, blind with rage. “Fine brothers you’ve all been to me! Why, I believe if I fell off my horse and broke my leg you’d ride straight on and leave me without a second thought! You’re the most shallow, worthless bunch of scoundrels I’ve ever met and I feel sorry for Papa having to tolerate you all and try to fulfill his obligations where you’re concerned. And if you’re despicable enough to suppose that Alice Penmar, a clergyman’s granddaughter, a decent, honest, moral girl, would ever—”

“Father doesn’t let outward respectability bother him,” said Philip. “Look at your mother.”

“My God, you—”

“Please, Philip,” said Marcus tightly, “don’t speak of Aunt Rose like that. In fact don’t even mention Aunt Rose. It’s not right.”

“Besides,” said Hugh blandly, “we’re discussing Alice. Aunt Rose is irrelevant to the conversation except possibly as an illustration of Papa’s tastes in that direction. Now let’s try and consider this dispassionately without getting all hot under the collar and losing track of the argument. I’m sure you’re intelligent enough to understand, Adrian, that we’re interested in Alice because we’re anxious to get some sort of lever over Papa. For example, if he shows reluctance to give Marcus and Philip a portion, it may be necessary to exert a little pressure of a certain kind—you understand? Now, considering the available facts, I think it’s highly probable that he has his eye on Alice. Whether anything’s happened yet is a moot point but as far as I can see it’s very likely that something will. Consider the situation. Papa, as we all know, has to have some sort of woman in the background, and no matter how devoted he was to Aunt Rose I don’t suppose he’s been utterly celibate since she died. However, recently he’s hardly moved out of Penmarric. He’s been here all summer working, and meanwhile living in the same house—keeping house for him—is this young woman of twenty-two, unrelated to him by blood in spite of her surname, unmarried and—if I may use a farmyard phrase since there are no ladies present—ripe for the plucking. No, wait! Don’t interrupt! Hear me out! This much is in Alice’s favor: She’s young, she’s quick-witted and she knows how to listen when he rambles on about history. However, she’s also plain and dark—have you noticed how Papa seems to prefer fair women?—and she’s too thin with practically no bosom at all. The question is therefore as follows: Does her youth—men of Papa’s age like young girls—and her intelligence outweigh her obvious lack of physical excitement? Considering that Papa’s probably had enough physical excitement to last him a lifetime and that he’s getting to an age when looks cease to be as important as personality, I think the answer is probably yes. In which case—”