Page 29 of The Cornish Widow

Chapter Fourteen

Harriet found Jack, as he’d said, drinking his second cup of coffee in a small, rather smoky coffee house devoid of other customers. He glanced up as she entered, and his face broke into a welcoming smile. Just what she needed after such a disturbing interview.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?”

She shook her head. What she wanted to do was return home to Theo and reassure herself of his safety. She felt, unreasonably, of course, as though Mrs. Bolitho might stretch out her talons, decorated with that ostentatious diamond, and snatch him away from her before she could get back to him. “I’d rather be on our way if we can. If you don’t mind.”

He tossed a coin onto the table and called a thank you to someone banging about out of sight, then escorted her out onto the street. The fresh air felt good on her skin. She heaved in a deep breath in an effort to steady her nerves.

“What happened?” Jack asked, pulling her hand once more into the crook of his arm. She’d have resisted this time, but he had her gripped tight and it would look bad to struggle. And besides, she had other things to think of.

“She wants my son.” The words popped out before she had a chance to stop them.

“Theo?”

She nodded. “She wants to meet him and, if she likes him, pay for his education. At first. But I know what happens in situations like this when a rich relative offers to pay for a fatherless child’s education. Very soon Theo would be spending all his time with her and not with me. She wants him for herself as the last Penhallow.” Tears were close but she mustn’t let them fall. There must be something she could do.

They turned out into the market, and he steered her along the edge. “And you don’t want to agree to this?”

She shook her head. “Of course not. He’s my son, not hers. She has no sons. I don’t want Theo at school miles away from me.”

He frowned. “She’s a widow, don’t forget and he’s her closest relation, or so she seems to think. Do you not think it wise to let her do this, as in all probability she’ll leave her fortune to him.”

Harriet glared up at him. “Do you think me a common fortune hunter?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. But I did take you for a woman of sense. You said yourself you are in straitened circumstances and your late husband’s aunt could provide a way out of them for you, and especially for Theo. Do you think that he’ll get such a chance again while living at Keynvor Cottage with you?”

What was he saying? Did he think she should take this offer?

He held up his free hand as they stopped outside the Star. “If I were you, I would give it some thought before you turn her down.”

She wrenched her hand free of his arm. “You don’t understand. Only another mother could. Did your mother send you, her only child, away to school?”

A strange look she couldn’t fathom flitted across Jack’s face. “I went to the grammar school in Truro. I boarded during the week and was home on Saturday afternoons. She had no opportunity for giving me a better education.”

Harriet shot him a triumphant glare and strode through the arch and into the stableyard.

His footsteps sounded behind her on the cobbles. “Jonno, our horses, please.”

The horses having been brought, Harriet allowed Jonno to boost her into the saddle and she and Jack rode out into the street. All this while she maintained a stony silence and it was only as they left the hovels at the edge of the village that she turned to him again.

She took up where they’d left off. “And would you want to have been sent to Eton, away from Cornwall and your mother?”

He had the grace to shrug and smile at her. “Probably not. Let’s call it a truce. I was only thinking of your future… of Theo’s future. I’ll keep my opinions to myself from now on.”

She allowed herself a slight smile. “Thank you.”

“And for now, shall we trot?”

For answer she set Peggy into a lively trot along the uneven road.

They’d gone only perhaps half a mile in a more companionable silence than before, when a shout assaulted Harriet’s ears. She twisted in the saddle to look, as Jack did the same.

Trotting along a track to their left came three riders, one of whom, the female of the bunch, was waving her right hand with enthusiasm, as though she thought she knew them. Well, as though she thought she knew Jack, surely? Which she in all probability did. Jack drew Shadow to a halt, and he and Harriet waited while the riders caught up. Who could they be? From their appearance, they must be well-to-do locals, possibly people of quality… but for that hoydenish wave. If Lydia had behaved like that back in Bath, she’d have been swiftly reprimanded. Not that reprimanding her seemed to do much good. And this was Cornwall, with Cornish customs which might well allow someone to shout and wave if they caught sight of a person they knew.

Jack edged Shadow between her and the new arrivals, almost as though he wanted to keep them apart, his dark brows lowering over his eyes in what could have been construed as a disapproving frown. He had a look of someone who would have liked to cut his losses and gallop off up the road. Puzzling, given the enthusiastic hailing from the young woman and the impression he’d given Harriet of not being one to follow social mores.

“Jack!” cried the young woman as she drew closer. A slight, dark-haired creature with a heart-shaped face and wide, brown eyes, she was beautiful by any standards. “How lucky to meet you on the road. Sam and I were on our way to visit Nat and Caroline when we bumped into dear Fitz, and he offered to accompany us.” She laughed, a gay, rippling sound that carried through the rapidly warming morning air, and turned her gaze to Harriet, her delicate brows rising.