The Sweethearts Collection. Pam Jenoff
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Quickly she undressed and climbed under the covers. Fenton could keep his fancy velvets, all she needed was Kitto to keep her warm. Cradling the polished heart to her chest, she closed her eyes and dreamed of the time she could marry the man she loved. Having worked on all that red, green and gold fabric, she knew the colours she wouldn’t be using for their handfasting ties.
The day of the Cuckoo Fest dawned at last. Heart racing, yet trying to act normally, Colenso went downstairs to find her mamm, bag in hand, about to leave the cottage.
‘Ah, there you are. Why, you look positively blooming,’ she cried. ‘Don’t our Colenso look radiant, Father? Still, it is an exciting day, isn’t it?’
‘It certainly is,’ Colenso replied truthfully, turning away as her father gave her a searching look.
‘Well, must go,’ Caja continued, oblivious. ‘One of them fair people’s sons got his leg caught under a wheel when they were setting up in farmer John’s field last night. The father’s waiting outside to show me to their van.’
‘Not having no travellers in here,’ Peder growled. ‘Don’t know where they’ve been or what they’re carrying. If it were up to me …’
‘Well, it isn’t,’ Caja said, interrupting his mutterings. ‘Don’t worry, Colenso, I’ve a fair few patients to see today but I’ll be back in plenty of time to help you get ready for when Mr Fenton comes. In the meantime, heat some water, take a bath, wash your hair. You should know the drill by now,’ she laughed.
‘Soon as she accepts that proposal, you can stop running round after other people, especially gyp …’ but he was talking to thin air for Caja had already left, the door clattering shut behind her.
‘Didn’t you say you had to work extra hours today, Father?’ Colenso asked as he continued sitting in his chair staring at her.
‘Yep, Fenton wants to prove to that Mr Quinn how prosperous his works are. Still, he ain’t likely to tell off his prospective father-in-law, now, is he?’ he chuckled.
‘I suppose not,’ she gulped.
‘Suppose you’ll need all day titty whatsin to look your best. Though I has to say your mamm’s right, you do have a kind of glow about you this morning. Excited, are you?’ he asked, studying her closely. Feeling her face growing hot, Colenso turned away and began clearing their breakfast things from the table. He watched for a moment then shrugged and got to his feet. ‘Well, best be off and check the men aren’t takin’ flippin’ liberties. Wait ’til I’m promoted, they won’t know what’s hit them. Don’t worry, I’ll be home early to greet Mr Fenton properly when he calls.’
‘Oh,’ Colenso muttered, her heart sinking like a stone. Her father frowned.
‘Look at me when I’m talking to you, maid,’ he ordered. Reluctantly, she did as he said. ‘That’s better. I’ll be checking you looks your best when I gets back, so make sure you take that bloomin’ netting off yer top or I’ll be doing it for you. Understand?’ Wishing he’d hurry up and go, she nodded quickly and with a final searching look, he snatched up his cap.
As the door slammed behind him, Colenso let out a long whoop of delight. Excited at the thought of seeing Kitto, she wasn’t sure she could have kept up the Ferret farce in front of her father any longer.
Then reality hit her like a bucket of iced water. She’d planned to make her way to the fair before her father left work, but if he was coming home early, how was she going to avoid him? Sinking into a chair, she pondered her problem. Finally deciding there was only one way to solve it, she spent the morning titty whatsin as her father called it, enjoying the luxury of having the cottage to herself.
Feeling refreshed and knowing it would be hours before she ate again, she helped herself to a portion of salted pilchards from the earthenware bussa and sat down at the table to enjoy them with a heel of bread. How wonderful it would be when Kitto and she had their own home and they could dine together like this, she mused.
Kitto. She’d need to leave shortly if she were to evade her father. Running upstairs, she dressed in her Sunday best and tied her hair back with the yellow ribbon that matched her blouse. Then leaving the fancy silk top in the closet, she bundled up her few remaining things and hurried back down. Breathing a sigh of relief that her mamm was still out, she opened the front door and bumped straight into her father.
‘Oh,’ she cried.
‘I knew you was up to som’at,’ he snarled, pushing her back inside. ‘Thought you’d do a runner while my back was turned, did you?’ Snatching the bundle from her, he threw it across the room. He was obviously drunk as like some demented demon, he advanced, towering over her, his eyes red with rage. ‘Should have guessed, when I saw that rat Rowse getting off the boat earlier.’ So Kitto was back. Despite her father’s ranting, her heart sang with happiness.
‘You’re marrying Fenton, Colenso Carne, and that’s final. Do you hear me?’ he growled, jabbing his finger at her. Suddenly, she felt something snap inside her and all the frustration of the last weeks came flooding out.
‘I am not marrying Fenton, Father, and you can’t make me,’ she shouted.
‘Really? Well, we’ll see about that,’ he hissed, forcing her back until she fell into the chair. Deftly he removed his belt, snapping the leather straps together. She put up her arms to protect herself but instead of lashing out, he caught hold of her hands and bound them tightly together.
‘A fine sight I’ll look when Fenton arrives,’ she said, bravado masking her fear.
‘Ah, but he ain’t coming till tomorrow now as that Mr Quinn’s still there.’ Thank heavens for small mercies, Colenso thought, but his next words sent shivers of panic down her spine. ‘And as I said how distressed you’d be, he loaned me his trap to come home. So, maid, we’ll take a little trip, you and me. I know the very place to make you see sense.’
Taking a bottle from his pocket, he sprinkled liquid on his grimy kerchief and held it to her face. She caught a whiff of something bitter before her senses began to swim. Vaguely she was aware of being pulled to her feet and pushed outside. As the fresh air revived her, she tried to lash out but her limbs wouldn’t work. There was that smell again, then a harsh laugh. Her father’s? She couldn’t be sure, for she was feeling woozy once more. Then she was tossed in the air, landing with a thump on a hard surface and everything went black.
‘Wake up, you good-for-nothing wench.’ Her father’s voice sounded as if it was coming from far away. She blinked, the light hurting her eyes as she felt herself being dragged off the back of the cart and falling to the ground. ‘On your feet,’ he growled. He grabbed her arm and she felt herself being frogmarched along a dark tunnel towards a speck of light. There was the smell of damp and she heard the crashing of waves, distant at first but growing ever nearer. Then she was squinting in the daylight, could feel fresh air on her face, smell the tang of salt.
As he started to untie the leather belt from her hands, she felt a glimmer