Page 67 of The Cornish Widow

When I was at last allowed to return to Trengrouse, and had passed my twenty-first birthday, I fully intended to find your mother and her family and marry her, but my father forestalled me with threats and bullying that I couldn’t resist. However, I don’t believe he knew what had become of them after he’d evicted them from their farm, and he put me to work in the offices of Wheal Lucky. You will know its ruins, although it’s been shut for some years now as I write this letter to you.

Jack did indeed know the ruins of Wheal Lucky, a tin mine that had been unlucky for many, standing just a short way inland from Trengrouse, on the far side of the Penzance road.

Your mother was working there as a balmaiden.

This brought Jack’s head up with a jerk. His mother had been working at the surface of a mine? She’d been a lowly balmaiden, working for pennies? Breaking up the ore the miners were bringing to the surface? Jack’s mouth fell open. “Mother. You never said. You once worked in a mine?”

She bowed her head. “He told you? It’s not something I’m proud of, although in a way I am. I’m proud I could work like my father and brother to bring money in, but not of how low I had to sink to do so.”

“What happened to your father and brother? Where are they now?”

Her chin shook. “They’re still in Wheal Lucky, with the other men caught in the roof fall. The fall that caused the closure of the mine.” She heaved a sigh. “Keep reading.”

He tore his eyes away from her back to the letter in his hand.

After the mine disaster that took your grandfather and uncle and left your mother alone in the world, I determined to keep her safe. I had my allowance which permitted me to set her up in a small house in Penzance and visit her whenever I was there on my father’s business. We loved each other and your mother was a virtuous young woman. She was never my mistress. I obtained a Common License from the Bishop of Truro and she and I were married in secret. She has and always will be my dearly beloved wife.

What?

Had he really just read that? His father and mother had been, possibly still were, if his father still lived, man and wife? He wasn’t illegitimate after all? No by-blow bastard-born, but a legitimate son of Sir Austin Trengrouse. A mixture of emotions churned through his head, foremost the pressing question of why his father had always treated him as a dark secret when he could have acknowledge him in public as his son. He glared at his mother. “You knew? All this time you knew? That I’m no bastard? That you’re his wife? And yet you stood by and let him marry someone else—bigamously?”

She met his angry gaze. “He’s told you, I see, but you don’t fully understand. You must read on and let him speak.”

Jack had almost crumpled the letter into a ball and thrown it into the hearth where a fire burned, but a mix of common sense and open curiosity kept him from doing so. He read on.

But I dared not reveal this to my father. He was old and ill, and I thought that once he was gone, I could bring your mother to Trengrouse and she would be my wife in name as well as fact. But my father knew his end was coming soon, and, before he went, he determined to see me well married—a marriage that would increase the land holdings of Trengrouses for generations to come. I could not fight him for fear of his health and my mother’s fury. I was forced, very much against my will and in full knowledge that I was committing the foulest of sins, to marry Miss Letitia Egerton, the only child of Mr. Zachariah Egerton, a man of considerable means.

So, his spineless father had spurned his true love, ignored his marriage vows, and married bigamously for money. What further depths could this man sink to, blaming his own father for them at every turn? Jack read on, his anger growing.

I had no sooner married Miss Egerton than my father died, leaving me as the new baronet. I did not dare repudiate Miss Egerton, for now, if my crime came to light, I would be either branded, or worse, transported to the colonies. And my poor Lady Trengrouse was quite innocent in this deed and already about to present me with an heir I would be forced to pass off as legitimate. I persuaded your mother to remain silent, for love of me, and installed her in Rosudgeon without my wife’s knowledge. Things never came by halves for me, though, and your mother informed me that she, too, was about to produce a child—my true heir. I have never been so conflicted as I awaited the birth of these two babies. And when Lady Trengrouse’s son was born dead, I recognized it as punishment for my sins. You, however, were born alive and kicking and screaming loud enough to wake the dead. A true Trengrouse, although your mother had taken her own mother’s maiden name of Trevelyan. You, my darling Jack, are Jack Trengrouse, not Jack Trevelyan.

Jack let the letter slip to his lap. “Why did you let him do this? Why did you let the world think you his mistress?”

She shook her head. “Because I love him, Jack. I loved him then and I love him now.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “How could I have betrayed him by telling the world he was a bigamist? What good would it have done? He would have been sent to Botany Bay and I would have been more alone than ever. At least I had him from time to time, when he could get away from Trengrouse Castle.”

“But effectively he prevented you from living a fulfilling life as someone else’s husband. You could have married and had other children. Just lived.”

“You think that my life was not fulfilling? You can say that, when I have loved you with all my heart and gloried every day in how closely you resemble your father?”

Unconvinced, he lifted the letter again.

And now I’m writing this in order to give it to you when I’m either dead already, or about to die. For I must do right by you, and you are my true heir. You will be Sir Jack Trengrouse after me, and Trengrouse Castle will be yours, for Lady Trengrouse and I will have no sons. But I pray that you will be gentle with your stepmother and sisters. She is not the guilty one here and nor are my daughters. I am. I have treated your mother badly, but I’ve also treated Letitia despicably. She knows nothing of this, and it will be a terrible shock to her to discover her marriage was a sham. Break it to her as gently as you can. Please. And remember, Jack, that I have always loved you, and it has broken my heart not to see you as often as I would have liked to. You are my boy, and you always will be.

Austin Trengrouse, Bt.

Jack looked up at his mother to find her earnest gaze fixed on him. She licked her lips. “You will go to him?”

He nodded. “I will go.”