‘I love her very much.’

  Nick was amazed at the blunt statement. ‘Do… do you?’

  ‘Yes, and I wouldn’t let her slip through my fingers.’

  ‘Oh, well, I… I have to go now.’ Nick headed quickly for the door. ‘You have a little rest, Benjamin.’

  Benjamin fluttered his lashes to say he would, then smiled before closing his eyes.

  Isabel hugged Kitty, promising to let her know the outcome of her trip to Gwithian as soon as possible. Nick was waiting silently at the door as she put on her cloak when he saw two figures hurrying towards the house. Bidding the women to wait inside, Nick went to meet the visitors.

  ‘Nick Nancarrow,’ James Leddra hailed him from the foot of the path.

  ‘Who…?’ Nick looked from the man with gold earrings to the boy beside him whom he recognized as coming from Gwithian’s parsonage stable. He was holding Charlotte Thomas’s mare.

  ‘Don’t you remember me? James Leddra. From The Bountiful. You saved my life in Trevellas Porth a little while back. I’ll never forget you.’

  ‘James Leddra! What on earth are you doing here?’ Isabel had been peeping out from behind the curtains of a window and recognized James before Nick did. She rushed out of the house, sending Kitty in a spin, and pushed past Nick to meet the sailor. ‘How did you find us? Why are you here?’

  Nick came up behind her. James looked at each shocked face. ‘Hello, Nick.’ He inclined his head to Isabel. ‘Miss Isabel.’ He didn’t wait for fresh shock to register on their faces that he knew who she really was. ‘Mrs Christopher told me I could probably find you both here. The parson’s wife lent me her horse and stable boy to get me here quickly. I turned up at Trevennor House this morning to find my sister, Mary Ellen, was dead, almost certainly murdered in her bed by Deborah Kempthorne a short time before. Me and Mrs Christopher took my little niece, Morenwyn, and all the servants there over to the parsonage till the constable arrives. They’re hoping if the child’s father comes home he’ll agree to letting her stay there till all’s sorted out. We all thought ’twas best to try ’n’ find you both and tell you what’s happened.’

  Isabel shook her head as she took in the news. Nick whistled through his teeth. ‘Edmund Kempthorne won’t be going home,’ he said grimly. ‘A short time ago he tried to kill Isabel and me and he went over the cliff. We couldn’t save him.’

  Well, that’s one thing we don’t have to worry about then,’ James said harshly, grief over his sister’s death striking him hard now the urgency of his errand was over. ‘The maid will be better off without him as a father!’

  ‘I’m sorry about your sister, James,’ Isabel said, touching his arm.

  ‘Thank you, miss.’

  Kitty had moved up to the gathering. ‘Then there’s only the Kempthorne woman to see to now,’ she said, putting Edmund Kempthorne’s hat into Nick’s hand.

  ‘Aye, and I’ll enjoy doing that,’ Nick said, with some of the venom he felt for the woman.

  Isabel hugged Kitty again and went to the horse Nick had been using. It was one she had often ridden herself on excursions with her uncle. She stroked its forehead and momentarily rested her face against its strong neck. It was good to see something familiar again, something connected to her uncle. She was as able a rider astride a horse as she was side-saddle and astride was how she mounted. Nick made a wry face and swung up behind her.

  James Leddra had not followed them, he was too busy eyeing Kitty, not expecting to find a lovely creature in a silk gown here. Kitty folded her arms, stared him out and then looked across at the couple waiting on the horse.

  ‘Hadn’t you better be going?’ Kitty asked the sailor tartly.

  ‘Aye… aye… good day to ’ee, miss…’

  James mounted Charlotte’s mare self-consciously and awkwardly with the aid of the stable boy. Isabel started the journey back to Gwithian at a confident trot. Nick sat close to her, his hands resting loosely on the tops of his legs. The stable boy urged the other mount on after them. James Leddra looked back over his shoulder at the redhead standing sedately on her garden path. Kitty tossed her head and went back inside.

  ‘I reckon he’ll be finding his way over here again before he finds his way back to sea,’ Nick said in Isabel’s ear as they rode through Crantock under the scrutiny of the villagers who were about.

  ‘James?’ she half-turned her head and their faces were close together. ‘Why?’

  He gazed into her eyes before she turned back to watch the road. ‘Didn’t you see the way he gawped at Kitty just then?’

  ‘No… James and Kitty? I don’t think Kitty will welcome that, shell soon send him off with a flea in his ear.’

  They were clear of Crantock and Nick put his arms round her waist. Isabel leaned into him. He laughed. ‘Flea in his ear? I can tell you’ve been around Kitty for a while. Miss Isabel Hampton would never have said that.’

  ‘The old Miss Isabel Hampton doesn’t exist any more,’ she said vehemently.

  Nick didn’t answer that. He thought he knew better than anyone how much Isabel had changed. She was no longer a haughty madam who thought she had the right to demand her own way in all things, who had once railed against him for simply touching her. She had been humbled. Now she was warm, caring, feminine. All these things had been only just under the surface, but it had taken some very rough treatment and a whole new way of life to bring about the changes. Nick wasn’t proud of his part in that; but he had hated her then. Now his feelings were far from that.

  ‘Things should work out quite simply for you now,’ he said. ‘Edmund’s dead, he can’t hurt you. Gyver Pengelly’s dead, he can’t be paid to hurt you. And even if the authorities refuse to believe Deborah Kempthorne was responsible for Mary Ellen’s death, the suspicion will follow her. She wouldn’t dare make a move against you. You are strong and confident now, you don’t need anyone to keep an eye on you until… for the next few days…’

  Until Richard Grenville came back. The time in which Laurence Trevennor had asked him to ensure the safety of his beloved niece. Nick couldn’t bring himself to say it. Even if she still needed a protector, he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to remain in that position after today, after they had confronted the evil witch at Gwithian.

  Isabel knew what Nick had been unable to say and she felt him move away from her.

  She hid her disappointment. ‘I’m so glad James and Mrs Christopher got Edmund’s daughter away from Deborah. She’s always hated children.’

  ‘That woman hates the world,’ Nick muttered. He was utterly relieved not to have to play the suitor to her again.

  ‘Edmund said you were pretending to be interested in Deborah.’

  ‘Well, I couldn’t find out anything from him, he played his cards too close to his chest. I didn’t think for a moment I would fool him by showing an interest in Deborah but it was the best way to get close to her, to find out what she really felt about you.’ Nick ground his teeth. ‘She said she wanted to dance on your grave, that if you were alive she’d push you over the cliff herself and make sure of it. She meant every word of it.’

  Isabel shuddered, but she wasn’t much interested in how her cousin felt about her right now. ‘Did… did you kiss her?’

  ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’ Nick snarled, snatching his arms away from her.

  Isabel was reminded of his behaviour up on the cliffs in their early travels. Were things between them reverting to the way they had been then? ‘Nick, please, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you that. I didn’t mean to upset you.’ Tears pricked her eyes.

  Nick looked at her stiff back. ‘I’m sorry I snapped at you. But what I had to do with that woman… it was an awful experience.’

  ‘You…?’

  Nick made a choking noise. ‘I couldn’t have done that, even for you, Isabel.’

  She stayed quiet as they cantered on, glancing back every so often to see if James Leddra and the stable boy were keeping up with them.

  ‘I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, Isabel,’ Nick said, when they were riding the coastal path along Reskajeage Downs. She didn’t reply and he uncurled his fists and put his hands on her shoulders.

  ‘I was thinking of all the people that have suffered because of me,’ she said. ‘Phoebe, Ginny, Rickardson and the guard. Did I tell you the guard had only been taken on that day? Then there are all the good people that have been put out on my account. Charlie and Mundy Cottle, Kitty, Benjamin, and most of all you… all the things you’ve had to do for me. And Deborah is a most dangerous woman, she couldn’t have been fooled either into thinking you really cared for her. She might have done anything to keep you in her clutches, she still might.’

  ‘Isabel, slow down, will you?’ She did as he asked, but only after they had left Deadman’s Cove, the scene of the accident, behind. ‘You can hardly blame yourself for Deborah’s attempt on your life. And you haven’t put my friends out. Charlie, Mundy and Kitty were only too glad to help, and as for Ben, you’ve made a huge difference to a lonely young man. They all like you very much, you’re their friend too now.’

  ‘And what about you, Nick?’

  ‘Laurence was my friend and a fine man. I would have done anything for him.’

  ‘And I am your friend now, Nick?’

  ‘That goes without saying, doesn’t it?’ he returned moodily.

  Isabel was silent. How much of a friend did he consider her?

  The riders got off their horses before they reached Gwithian village, the stable boy taking both mounts and walking them on in front. They didn’t want to advertise their presence and alert Deborah. Charlie Chiverton met them outside the village.

  ‘I’ve been keeping meself out of sight,’ Charlie told Nick, ignoring the others. ‘I seen all the servants, the young ’un and this man ’ere,’ Charlie tossed his head at James, ‘trooping into the parsonage, then ’e goin’ off on Mistress Thomas’s ’orse. Nothin’s stirred in the big ’ouse. No one’s gone in or come out.’ Then Charlie looked closely at Isabel, he was not quite sure who she was.

  ‘Hello, Charlie,’ she said, offering him her hand. ‘I’m so pleased you weren’t hurt too badly by Gyver Pengelly. I’ve washed the clothes you lent me, I shall return them to you as soon as I can.’

  ‘So ’tes thee, Miss Isabel,’ Charlie said, shyly shaking her hand. You look quite different.’

  ‘We’ll go to the parsonage first and hope Deborah Kempthorne doesn’t see us,’ Nick said, impatient to get on.

  ‘Well, if she’s lookin’ out of a window she went recognize Miss Isabel,’ Charlie said, falling in with Nick’s long strides. ‘What ’ave ye done to ’er, boy?’

  ‘I haven’t done anything to her,’ Nick returned stonily.

  Isabel turned from James Leddra’s sympathetic eyes and concentrated on keeping up with the other two.

  Charlotte saw the four of them coming and admitted them into the parsonage herself.

  ‘Miss Isabel, how good to see you again, and looking so well,’ she added, taking in the young woman’s changed looks. ‘I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through such an ordeal. I’ll be glad if you and Nick, and Mr Leddra and your friend,’ she glanced at Charlie and made a mental note to send for hot water and towels to clean his bleeding arm, ‘would all step into the parlour so we can piece the whole story together. Mrs Christopher is waiting anxiously in there.’

  ‘And Morenwyn?’ James asked respectfully.

  ‘She’s upstairs in the nursery with my children and the nurses. Don’t worry, she’s quite happy. She’s used to her mother being indisposed and her father being away for long periods of time. He’ll be the best one to tell her what’s happened to—’

  ‘He’s dead too,’ Nick interrupted ungraciously and received a withering look from Isabel.

  ‘He tried to kill us but lost his own life,’ Isabel explained.

  The little gathering was unprepared for Charlotte’s reaction. A small strangled cry passed her lips, her face went white and she clutched at the hall table. James reached out to prevent what he thought was going to be a faint. Charlotte used his arm to steady herself but stayed resolutely on her feet.

  ‘You should not have told her like that,’ Isabel remonstrated with Nick.

  He apologized to Charlotte. ‘I’m sorry I shocked you, Mistress Thomas. Can I get you something?’

  ‘No, no,’ Charlotte forced a sort of smile. ‘I’m sorry. But after everything that has happened it has been a shock. You see, I was in a similar situation myself only a few days ago. Gyver Pengelly tried to kill me and Nellie. It was Mr Kempthorne who saved our lives. I wouldn’t have believed he’d try to kill anyone. He… he didn’t seem capable of it. Please, let’s go into the parlour.’

  Isabel obeyed immediately to lessen Charlotte’s distress and embarrassment. She opened the parlour door and Mrs Christopher, who was looking anxiously out of a window towards Trevennor House, dropped the curtain and rushed to her with outstretched hands.

  ‘Miss Isabel! Oh, Miss Isabel, thank God you’re still alive. You don’t know what it’s been like these past weeks. If only I’d known you were still alive.’

  Isabel took the housekeeper to a sofa and sat holding her hands. ‘I’m sorry about all that’s happened, Mrs Christopher. But it was necessary that everyone believed I was dead.’

  ‘It’s been a nightmare since Mr Trevennor died,’ the housekeeper sobbed. ‘If only I’d known you were alive,’ she repeated, ‘the last few weeks would have been bearable.’

  ‘I couldn’t take the risk and tell you,’ Nick said, going to them and putting his arm round Mrs Christopher, ‘it might have put you in danger. You do see?’ She turned and cried in Nick’s arms. ‘It’s nearly over now,’ he said soothingly. He looked at Isabel. ‘In a little while Miss Isabel and I will go up the road and confront Deborah Kempthorne.’

  Isabel got up and went to Charlotte who was standing by a table touching the petals of a vase of snowdrops. Edmund Kempthorne had passed them into the parsonage that morning before he’d left for Crantock.

  ‘Are you feeling better now, Mistress Thomas?’

  ‘What? Oh, yes. I’ll have these flowers removed, they make the air heavier to breathe.’ Charlotte had overlooked some of Edmund Kempthorne’s shortcomings but she wanted nothing from a common murderer, a man who had obviously been as evil as his sister. ‘And how are you, Miss Isabel?’

  Miss Isabel. She looked at Nick, holding Mrs Christopher who was clinging to him, he gazing sightlessly over her head. Now folk knew she was still alive, was she to be Miss Isabel to everyone again? She couldn’t wait to go next door and enter Trevennor House, her rightful home, and turn out her remaining cousin, the vile woman who had plotted and so very nearly succeeded in her murder. Miss Isabel. When she saw she had come back from the dead to claim her inheritance, what would Deborah Kempthorne call her?

  Chapter 26

  Nick stalked into the parlour of Trevennor House, thrusting back the door and making it jar to a halt. The curtains were drawn, shrouding the room in almost darkness. He could see the clumsy shape of Deborah Kempthorne stretched out on a sofa, a hand laid across her brow. He strode towards her, grimacing at the distasteful odour of her headache powders, scent and perspiration.

  Deborah moaned as if from afar. ‘Who’s there?’

  ‘It’s me.’

  ‘Nick?’ She tried to get up but fell back clutching her head in agony. Her headaches were genuine; probably the only thing about her that was.

  Nick went round to the windows, roughly pulling open the curtains.

  ‘Wh-what are you doing?’

  He began opening the windows, as wide as they would go, letting in the cold air.

  Deborah tried and failed to sit up again. ‘Oh, Nick. Please close the curtains… my head… What are you doing? You’re making a draught.’

  He ignored the muffled pleas from the sofa, returning to his station in front of it. Deborah lowered her hand and opened her eyes with a squint. She could not see Nick well. ‘Come closer, I can’t see you properly.’

  Nick stood his ground, his hands resting on his hips, his face stern. The better light showed up the woman’s full ugliness.

  Deborah struggled and this time she managed to sit up, groaning and holding her head. She tried to pat her hair back into place but succeeded in bringing down more of its straggly ends. ‘Where have you been, Nick? I sent for you hours ago. What time is it?’

  ‘About midday.’ He spoke sharply.

  Deborah screwed up her face and tried to focus on his face. Her cap fell off and she was forced to wipe spittle from the side of her mouth. Her hands flapped about the sofa until she located a handkerchief which she dabbed at her lips then patted over her face. Nick’s mouth tightened at the sight.

  ‘I’ve had a terrible morning,’ she said in a complaining voice. ‘Mary Ellen was found dead and the servants are accusing me of having something to do with it. Then some awful sailor turned up saying he was the child’s uncle and took her away. I dismissed all the servants and then this wretched headache came on. I’ve been lying here in sheer agony waiting for you to come to me.’

  ‘What a pity.’

  ‘Are you all right, Nick? You sound strange. But things are better for us now with Mary Ellen out of the way. Why don’t you sit down beside me? I want you to hold me.’

  ‘I’ve brought someone to see you, Deborah.’

  ‘Oh no, who is it? I’m in no fit state to receive visitors.’

  Nick looked across to the doorway where Isabel had been standing, listening. Deborah followed his gaze but could see only the hazy outline of a tall, slim female. ‘Who are you? What do you want?’

  Isabel crossed the room and stood beside Nick. Coolly, she said, ‘Hello, Deborah.’

  ‘What?’ Deborah’s eyes shot wider and she shook her head and stared until her vision cleared. ‘Who are you? You sounded like… you can’t be…’

  ‘But it is. Your cousin Isabel Hampton, back from the bottom of the ocean.’

  Forgetting her agony, Deborah jumped up and looked closer. ‘You’re an imposter! You look a bit like Isabel Hampton but she wasn’t so—’

 

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