too good, I hope,’ he chortled. ‘Until the 3rd, my dear. The evenings are lighter now, so we can revisit that nice hotel to celebrate.’ He rang the bell, only for the housekeeper to appear immediately. From her expression it was clear she’d been listening to their conversation. ‘My guests are just leaving,’ he told her.
‘About time too, coming in here traipsing mud all down me clean floors,’ she muttered, leading them back down the hallway. With a sniff, she grudgingly took their outer garments from the big carved stand and held them out at arm’s length.
‘Wait till you has to iron me shirts as well,’ Peder hissed.
It was pouring with rain outside but the wet didn’t do anything to cool Peder’s temper. As soon as the trap moved away he turned to her and shook his fist.
‘Stupid idiot,’ he raged. ‘Didn’t I tell you to say yes when he proposed?’
‘You’ve let us down good and proper,’ Caja wailed. ‘To think, at this very moment, we could have been planning your wedding. And you could have been entertaining Mr Fenton’s important guest.’
‘Yes, and I would have been invited to dine with the owner of the works,’ Peder growled.
‘Well, he’s been spared the embarrassment of your dreadful table manners,’ Colenso retorted. Tired and overwrought, she’d had more than enough for one afternoon.
‘Why, you …’ he began, his hand going to his belt.
‘Leave it, Father,’ Caja cautioned. ‘Colenso’s a good girl. She’ll do the right thing and accept.’
‘She’d better,’ Peder grunted. ‘But in the meantime, you’re to spend your days learning to cook proper dishes. And I mean proper. No more guts of a gudderin gaverick. I want roast beef and all the trimmings like we had today.’
‘Then you’d better pay for it instead of squandering your money in the alehouse,’ she cried.
‘Money won’t be a problem when you accepts. We’ll have all we need, your mamm and I, soon as you wed,’ he boasted.
‘What do you mean?’ Colenso frowned.
‘Promised us a lump sum for you, Fenton has. One of them dury things,’ he grinned.
‘Dury? You mean dowry, Father,’ she told him. ‘But you’ve got it the wrong way round. It’s the father who pays the dowry.’
‘Not this time,’ Peder boasted, rubbing his hands together gleefully. ‘And I stood out for me pound of flesh, what with you being built sturdy, like.’
‘What? You mean you’re selling me, your own daughter?’ she spluttered, staring at him incredulously.
‘Always knew you’d come in useful for som’at.’
Just then, the trap lurched as it rounded the bend towards Cadgwith. Unable to take any more, Colenso leapt down.
‘Where the ’ell do you think you’re going?’ Peder bellowed. ‘I ain’t finished yet.’ But ignoring both him and the sheeting rain, she ran towards Mammwynn’s final resting place.
‘Oh Mammwynn, you’ll never guess what’s happened,’ she cried, throwing herself down on the wet grass. The rowans rustled and, knowing her grandmother was listening, she poured out her tale of woe.
‘To think Father intends selling me. Well, I won’t marry that man, I won’t,’ she cried. The rowans rustled as if in agreement. ‘I knew you’d understand,’ she told them, feeling calmer. ‘The question is what do I do now?’ The necklace pricked her, gently this time and she sat back on her heels and looked around.
In the weeks since she’d last been here the little patch had sprung to life. Herbs and flowers were beginning to flourish, along with the weeds that were threatening to choke them. Heedless of her bare hands, she began tugging at their roots. She worked until the plants were free and, as she did, she found her mind working too. Of course, she cried, jumping to her feet. All I have to do is play along with Father until Kitto returns. Then I’ll meet him at the fair and tell him what’s been going on. The necklace pricked gently again and she knew she’d made the right decision.
‘Thanks, Mammwynn,’ she cried. ‘I can’t tell you how much better I feel.’ As the rowans rustled in reply, she smiled properly for the first time that day.
With the rain having eased, she removed her turnover but kept on her gloves and began picking the tops off the new nettles. As well as making more unguent, she’d make nettle soup for the next day’s supper. After all, her father had told her to spend her time cooking something different, hadn’t he? she thought, grinning down at her laden shawl.
✳
An uneasy truce existed in the cottage as Colenso skirted round her father, meekly doing as she was told. In turn Peder, thinking he’d won, was trying his hardest to be nice to her.
‘We only want what’s best for you, Colenso,’ he murmured over supper the next evening. He took a mouthful of the soup and she tried not to laugh as he grimaced.
‘I know, Father, and I listened to what you said and spent today making this soup. Apparently, it’s the very thing to serve at dinner parties,’ she told him, crossing her fingers in her lap.
‘Oh, er, very nice, yes,’ he muttered, forcing down another spoonful. ‘Cors, when you weds Fenton, your mother will have a fancy kitchen to cook in too.’
‘Will you, Mamm?’ Colenso frowned, wondering what was coming next.
‘I will cos that nice Mr Fenton’s promised me a lovely new home,’ she beamed. ‘Can’t say I’ll be sorry to leave this place,’ she added, staring at the damp walls that had needed lime washing for years, the broken furniture and remains of her crockery set. ‘Might even get some new dishes.’
‘You can have all you want, Caja dear,’ Peder offered, waving his hands expansively. ‘When I’m the caretaker of that fancy new showroom, I shall need a smart house to come home to.’
‘Caretaker?’ Colenso cried.
‘Oh, didn’t I tell you? As well as one of them dury things, Mr Fenton is setting us up in a nice new cottage down by the works and giving me a promotion too. Seen how important I am to him,’ he bragged, puffing out his chest as was becoming a habit. ‘So you wedding him is the best thing for all of us.’
Seeing his excited face, Colenso almost felt sorry for the disappointment he had coming to him. But then she thought of the way he’d had no qualms about selling her, and hardened her heart.
‘Glad you enjoyed it, Father. You were right about me needing to expand my cooking repertoire so if it’s all right with you, I’ll wander up to Mammwynn’s plot tomorrow and gather some more Alexanders. They’ll go nicely with a parsley sauce.’ She looked at him expectantly.
‘Very well. I’m glad you’re taking this cooking seriously. As well as all your feminine wiles, the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. That drop of green stuff was very, er, interesting but needed more salt,’ he said, getting to his feet. ‘Now, I’ve an important meeting to go to.’
She
