A Stranger's Kiss (7 page)

‘You did well tonight, Sara,’ Michael said suddenly.

‘In what way?’ I laughed, ‘I assume you refer to my dancing.’

‘You dance beautifully,’ he complimented me, ‘but I was talking of the way you stood up to Tobias.’

‘What did happen with Amelia, Tobias and yourself?’ I asked, taking my head from his shoulder and stopping.

‘I told you the first day I met you, please believe me. Amelia fell for me, but I distanced her from me for she was not my type.’

I believed the words he spoke. ‘Do you think this is why my friend has disappeared?’ I asked of him.

‘Not necessarily. As you know she was here for some time, I really have no idea what has happened to her, but I do believe you when you say you have seen Amelia here. I’m sure you are not prone to flights of fancy, so tomorrow after church I will secure the key to the north tower and we will investigate together. How does that sound?’

In truth his words were joy to my ears for I felt I had an ally in my search for Amelia at last. ‘Thank you, thank you so much,’ I enthused.

‘Afterwards we could walk on the cliff together.’ This was an invitation I knew.

‘I would be delighted to walk with you, Michael.’ As I said the words I wondered if I could ask him about his meeting in the tea shop this very day with Tamsin, but tomorrow would do.

‘Nothing can spoil this can it, please tell me nothing will.’ The words escaped my lips and I knew that Michael was going to kiss me for he cupped my face in his hands and bent his head, but we were rudely interrupted by Violet.

‘Stop it! Stop it!’ she screamed, ‘Look at what I have here.’ Both startled we looked at the piece of paper she waved around in front of us.

‘Let us see.’ Michael spoke quietly. The moon shone down on the picture Violet had drawn. She was a good artist for I could see it was me dancing in the arms of her father. My heart sank as realisation dawned on me, she thought of me and Abraham as a couple.

7

Next morning I awoke after another restless night thinking of Violet and her picture. Michael had tried to reassure me that there was no significance in the drawing, but I had my doubts.

‘Oh Miss, look at the way you’ve crumpled your beautiful gown and practically thrown it on the armchair, I’ll be bound,’ Tilly scolded me. She was correct, I had taken it off with difficulty and placed it in a heap on the chair, wishing never to see it again.

‘You can have it, Tilly.’ At these words my maid’s eyes lit up as she held the dress in her hands.

‘And where would I wear such a gown, Miss?’ she said with a grimace.

‘Your wedding day maybe,’ I offered.

‘Fat chance of that, Miss, seeing I ain’t got a beau,’ replied Tilly quite disgruntled.

‘Well keep it anyway in abeyance for whatever occasion. I would prefer not to see it again. Now I have to get myself ready for church,’ I said, dismissing the subject of the gown.

We were to walk to church I had been told, so I would wear my black leather ankle boots and a suitable day dress.

As I suspected the day would be warm, Tilly and I chose a royal blue cotton dress with a full skirt falling over the bustle and a bodice buttoned to the neck with a delicate cream lace collar.

‘You look as lovely as you did for the party,’ Tilly told me when I was ready, ‘but your face has a sombre expression today.’

‘That’s as maybe,’ I answered her, ‘but today I have much on my mind.’ For indeed I did. There were many questions to be answered. Where was Amelia? Would Michael and I find the answer today when we went to the north tower? Why had Violet drawn me and her father together? And why had Tamsin been in the tea shop with Michael and his nurse?

As I descended the staircase I noticed the garlands had been removed and the scatter rugs placed back down on the floor.

They were all assembled, Abraham and his two sons, all looking handsome in black frock coats and white shirts. Rosalind looked as serene as ever in a pale green day dress with a bonnet to match her glossy black hair. Violet as usual wore the colour violet. She watched me as I stepped into the hall, her eyes so bright they glistened and she had an unfathomable expression on her face. All was silent until I spoke.

‘Forgive me for last evening’s display of pique on my part, you must think me extremely rude after your hospitality and the wonderful party you arranged for me, for which I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I especially apologise to you, Mr Tobias Tremaine,’ I said looking across at him, ‘but I cannot retract the words I spoke for I feel they are true. Please accept my apology nonetheless.’

It was the master who walked over to me, taking my arm, at which Violet clapped her hands together and with relish shouted the word, ‘See!’

I wished with all my heart that Abraham had not made the gesture, but it was too late. I could see that Michael looked shocked at his sister’s one simple word which implied so much and proved me right.

‘There is nothing to forgive, Miss Osborne,’ Abraham began, ‘for the evening was enjoyed by one and all. Isn’t that so?’ He included everyone in the question, extending one arm as he did so.

‘Why of course,’ said Rosalind sweetly, although I detected a slight misgiving in the way she said it.

‘Now let us walk to church. Take my arm, Miss Osborne and we’ll speak no more of it. Is that understood?’ he asked them all.

‘Yes Father,’ came the reply in unison.

We walked down the drive through the gates heading for a lane opposite which I had not noticed before. The sun was shining down and my eyes were on Michael who walked with Rosalind. I so longed to speak to him and prayed that a chance would show itself soon. As we reached the brow of the hill I could see the church. It loomed up on us quite suddenly. The small grey stone building with a Norman doorway and no tower lay almost hidden among grass and bracken. I’d never seen a church so tiny.

‘There’s no graveyard,’ I said to Abraham.

‘No, these churches were built for worshippers in remoter parts of the countryside. The mother church of St Winwalloe on the Lizard had the rite of burial, but there is a font for baptism here,’ he told me.

The older Mr Tremaine was certainly a very interesting man to talk to and I started to wonder what tragedy had befallen his beautiful wife and Violet’s mother.

After the service in the dimness of the quaint little church I was thankful to step out into the sunlight.

‘Take Michael’s arm,’ Abraham instructed me with a wink. I smiled for I could see for sure that the Master of Ravensmount acknowledged that a relationship was forming between his younger son and their guest.

Michael must have heard for he offered the crook of his arm which I took with much happiness and willingness. All the way back Violet danced around us, preventing us from any lucid conversation.

As we neared the gates to the drive Abraham spoke sharply to her. ‘By my side at once, young woman!’ His words and the way he spoke them broached no argument. Violet did as she was bid with a torrent of tears and protestations. She was definitely unstable I mused, and wondered if she had always been like it.

‘I have the key,’ Michael practically whispered to me. ‘We will head straight for the north tower.’

We quickened our steps, and on reaching the tower door Michael produced the key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock which turned very easily, and lifting the latch the door swung quietly back on its hinges. There was a flight of narrow winding stone steps which we ascended in single file, Michael going in front of me.

It was necessary to lift my skirts up at the front and with no handrail my heart thudded, fearing I may fall. Eventually we stood on a cold stone landing two doors facing us. Michael opened the first one on our left which was but a dark cubby hole festooned with cobwebs and caused me to think of the spider’s web.

From here the sound of the ravens was very close, we could hear them crying harshly and flapping their wings.

‘Nothing of note in here,’ observed Michael after he had peered into the darkness. ‘It’s a long while since I’ve been up here. Now let us try the other door which I believe should open with the same key as the door below.’

As he spoke he turned the key in the lock, and sure enough the heavy oak door swung back with ease. By now my heart was pounding. Michael caught hold of my hand and with him by my side I tentatively stepped into what was a large room with three windows, one to the front and one each side, but disappointingly the room was empty. My heart sank, so this theory of mine was vanquished also.

Dust lay on the wooden floor, but here and there it had been disturbed, perhaps by a footstep? I asked myself.

‘I know you are disappointed, Sara,’ my companion began, ‘but all is not lost, for I can see that a path leads to the main window. Someone has been here quite recently, look,’ he urged me. I could see what he meant and we followed the vague footsteps to the window.

‘Oh my goodness,’ I said, ‘what an absolutely magnificent view.’

‘Yes, it is rather beautiful isn’t it,’ Michael replied. From here, for as far as the eye could see, was a view out over the sea and cliffs. ‘And if you come to the window on the right,’ he continued taking hold of my hand, ‘you will see the chapel we were at this morning.’

As I looked I could see he was right, the building was like a dot on the landscape sheltered by the surrounding green fields. It was then we spotted Violet walking across in our direction. As we saw her she looked up and no doubt would have seen us just as I’d seen the face at the window the other day.

‘Oh no,’ groaned Michael, ‘she’s heading this way and I have left the door below unlocked. No matter, we will bluff our way out of it.’

The next thing we knew we could hear the door open and shut below and the ravens squawking on the tower once more. I suddenly felt very afraid and caught hold of Michael’s arm. It seemed like only seconds before Violet appeared in the doorway. She flung back her head and laughed. Her stance reminded me of something, but I had no chance to think as to what it was.

‘What did you hope to find? A ghost?’ she almost screamed, thrusting her face close to mine.

‘We just came up here to see the view, Violet,’ said Michael to his sister in a soothing voice, at the same time pulling me gently back from her.

‘A likely story. You are deceiving my father, just as she did.’ The word ‘she’ was emphasised and Violet almost spat the words at us.

‘There is no reason to deceive. Now we’ll all go back down the steps slowly and quietly and lock the tower up once more,’ Michael coaxed.

Violet had calmed herself somewhat, but I could see her mind was still working overtime as we descended the stone steps. Michael in front and me bringing up the rear. I kept thinking inanely that Violet would push her brother, but she didn’t and we stepped safely outside once more. Michael relocked the door and placed the key in his pocket.

‘Now you run along for lunch,’ he instructed Violet. ‘Sara and I are going to return the key.’

‘I shall tell Papa,’ she shouted as she ran around the corner to the front of the house, her footsteps harsh on the ground causing the ravens to perform once more. I put my hands over my ears feeling quite distressed at the whole incident and was immensely disappointed that we had not discovered Amelia’s prison, for prison I was sure it was. My friend would not go into hiding of her own free will, she loved life too much.

‘Come,’ said Michael taking my arm, ‘we will head for the tranquillity of the sea and cliffs.’

A narrow path led from the tower to the cliffs, and as we walked along together I could hear the sea lapping on the beach below. The sun was moving around and I savoured the warmth of it on my back as I had felt quite cold in the tower. Looking up I could see small, white, fluffy, translucent clouds hung like cotton wool against the backdrop of the blue sky.

To my delight wild flowers grew in abundance on the cliffs made up of small clusters of red common hounds’ tongue and large patches of white fragrant bluebells. This was like heaven compared to the gloom of that empty room in the tower.

‘Here we are.’ Michael’s voice drifted across to me and looking down at my feet I could see a blanket had been laid on a grassy clearing with a picnic basket standing in the shade of a small green bush.

‘Why Michael, how ...’ I started to question.

‘Never mind now,’ he said placing a finger on my lips to silence me. ‘Sit down on the rug and let us see what delights Cook has prepared for us in the basket.’

As Michael lifted the picnic basket onto the rug he presented me with a pretty green parasol which had been lying under the bush also.

‘You thought of everything,’ I praised him as he sat beside me. I touched his cheek, ‘But I have to tell you green does not go with blue,’ I teased him looking down at my dress. We both laughed and he caught hold of the hand which touched his cheek.

‘But I can be forgiven as I had no notion of what you’d wear today,’ he said, kissing the palm of my hand.

The basket contained small sandwiches, cold chicken, fruit cake and cool lemonade with two glasses to drink it from. I arranged the parasol so it would shield my face from the hot rays of the sun. Michael and I sat tucking into the delicious fare and then sipped at our lemonade.

Suddenly he clinked his glass against mine. ‘To us,’ he said seriously.

‘To us,’ I repeated. ‘And thank you, Michael. Is it all right if I ask you a personal question?’

‘I’ve never been married,’ he mocked, ‘or in love before, so go ahead, I’m all ears.’

‘It’s very difficult,’ I began toying with blades of grass while I spoke. ‘So I’ll ask you directly. What happened to your mother?’

He turned away from me at my question and threw a stray pebble over the cliff, and for some moments I was afraid the question had upset him and spoilt his opinion of me, but he turned back to look at me.

‘Why do you ask?’ he asked quietly.

‘Because Rosalind said she died of a broken heart,’ I replied honestly.

‘She did,’ he murmured. ‘She walked into the sea at Moll’s Bay, intent on drowning herself because of my father’s betrayal.’ Here he stopped.

‘And did she ...?’ I commenced.

‘Yes, she did die. Her body turned up at Lizard Point a few days later.’

I could see it pained him to talk of it, but I had to know. ‘What exactly did your father do to warrant your mother taking her own life?’ As I asked the question I could more or less guess the answer.

‘He fell in love with a gypsy and she had his child,’ he told me. I touched his shoulder.

‘And that child is ...?’ I began.

‘Violet.’ Michael finished the sentence for me.

‘And what of Violet’s mother?’ I asked him, for I felt that I needed to know.

‘Let us talk no more of it,’ he said, playfully pushing me back on the rug, his laughter returning. I felt quite vulnerable lying on the cliff as Michael tickled my face and throat with a blade of grass, but I trusted him implicitly and when he bent over to kiss me I closed my eyes, a delicious feeling of fire running through my body as his lips met mine for the first time.