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“We did nothing wrong,” said Miss Moran. “The tide cut us off. We had to wait until it ebbed.”
There was a murmured comment among the onlookers. Someone tittered in response. Looking over the rows of staring eyes, Kenver realized that this story would spread like wildfire through the neighborhood. Miss Moran’s disheveled appearance would be detailed. There would be rampant speculation and salacious jokes. He knew there were people who could not imagine a young couple being alone together without succumbing to desire. Mr. Moran, still shaking his walking stick over Kenver’s head, might well be one of them. “You will not get away with this,” he said.
Mrs. Moran began wringing her hands. “Oh dear, oh dear,” she moaned and burst into tears.
“Please stop, Mama,” said Miss Moran. She looked distressed, whether over her parents’ behavior or her own plight Kenver didn’t know. Both, probably.
A different sort of couple might have smoothed this over. Possibly. Or perhaps not, Kenver acknowledged, seeing the whispers spreading among the crowd. In any case, Mr. Moran said, “You will make this right, you cur. I’ll have the law on you. Make no mistake about that.”
“Papa!”
Miss Moran was near tears. Kenver hated to see it. Out of all the hubbub, this was the thing that made him say, “I will, of course, do the right thing.”
This brought proceedings to a brief halt. Miss Moran made a gesture of denial.
“And who the devil are you?” asked Mr. Moran.
“My name is Kenver Pendrennon.”
The older man went still. “Pendrennon?” he repeated.
It was obvious that he recognized the name. “Yes,” said Kenver.
“Ha.”
“You don’t have to do anything,” began Miss Moran.
“I would be delighted if you would be my wife,” he interrupted. Somewhat surprisingly, it was not untrue. Exactly. He couldn’t decide whether it was precisely true either. The circumstances were too confusing.
“I won’t let you…”
“Be quiet, Sarah,” snapped her father. “We accept your offer. And we expect you to honor it.”
Kenver stiffened. “No one has ever impugned my honor. And no one ever shall!”
There was a bit more talk after that and an agreement that Kenver would call at the Morans’ home the following day to discuss arrangements. Then his horse was found, and the crowd dispersed. Sarah Moran was led away from him by her parents. The look she gave him over her shoulder tore at his heart.
An hour later, Kenver stood before his own parents at Poldene Hall and explained where he had been overnight, along with the outcome.
“Marriage!” exclaimed his mother. “Out of the question. No.”
“Surely that is not necessary,” put in his father. “You say you did not…interfere with the girl.”
He said this as if he didn’t quite believe it, Kenver noted. Even his father, who should be most likely to trust his word, doubted his tale. Were some men really so venal? “I must do the honorable thing,” he replied.
“Your head is stuffed full of legends and antiquated nonsense,” replied his mother.
“It is not a legend that I put a young lady in a perilous position.”
“Or she did you. It’s known that you often visit Tintagel. Her parents probably stationed her there to accost you. And now they’re gloating over their success.”
“They did no such thing,” Kenver answered. “This was purely an accident.”
“And as such, it should not ruin your life,” said his mother, pouncing on the idea. “I have bigger plans for you. A splendid match. Not a hasty marriage to some local nobody.”
“They are not nobodies. Her father has an estate near Padstow.” Hadn’t she mentioned that? Or was he assuming more than he knew?
“It can’t be much of an estate if I’ve never heard of him,” said his father.
