Demelza (27 page)

Demelza sipped another glass. 'I have heard of you often, sir,' she answered.

'Indeed,' Sir Hugh puffed out his cheeks. 'And I trust that the report was not disfavourable, eh?'

'No, sir, not at all. I hear that you keep plump pheasants which are a trouble to the poor poachers when they come to steal 'em.'

Sir Hugh laughed. 'I have a heart too, and no one has ever stole that yet neither.'

'Perhaps like the pheasants you keep it too well guarded.' She noticed Dwight looking at her in surprise.

'Nay, ma'am,' said Sir Hugh, making eyes at her downright, 'it is not guarded at all for them as knows how and when.'

'Good God, Hughie,' said his stepmother, coming on them suddenly. 'I thought you'd gone without me, you wicked old devil. Seen about the carriage, have you? I can't tramp across in all this falallery.' The Dowager Lady Bodrugan, who was twenty years younger than her stepson, hitched up her fine satin cloak in a disgusted fashion and stared Demelza up and down. 'Who is this? I haven't the pleasure, miss.'

'This is Captain Ross's wife. From Nampara. Damme, I was saying we've been lax in our manners not asking 'em over to an evening of whist...'

'D'you hunt, mistress?' demanded Constance Bodrugan.

'No, ma'am.' Demelza finished her port. 'I have some sympathy for the foxes.'

Lady Bodrugan stared. 'Pah, a Methody or some such! I smelt it. Let's see, weren't you a miner's daughter?'

Inwardly Demelza trembled with sudden unruly anger. 'Yes, ma'am. Father hung at Bargus for the crows to pick; an' Mother was a highway-woman an' fell over a cliff.'

Sir Hugh roared with laughter. 'Serves you right, Connie, for your quizzing, Take no account of my stepmother, Mrs Poldark. She barks like her hounds, but there's little vice in it.'

'Damn you, Hugh! Keep your apologies for your own behaviour. Just because you feel…'

'Why, there!' John Treneglos pushed his clumsy way into the circle. For once he was dressed up, and his freckled sandy face was already flushed with drink. 'Hugh and Connie, tagging at each other as usual. I might have known! And Mistress Demelza,' he added with assumed surprise. 'Well, now, here's a good meet. Tallyho! Mistress Demelza, I want you to promise me the first country dance.'

'Well, that you can't have, John,' said Sir Hugh. 'For she's promised it to me. Haven't you, ma'am. Eh?' He winked.

Demelza sipped another glass which someone had put into her hand. It was the first time she had seen John Treneglos since his quarrel with her father, but he seemed to have ignored or forgotten that. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ruth Treneglos edging her way through the crowd towards her husband.

'I thought that was the second, Sir Hugh,' she said.

She saw 'the look' come strongly into John Treneglos's eyes as he bowed.

'Thank ee. I'll be waiting to claim the first.'

'Here's Captain Poldark,' said Dwight, almost with a note of relief in his voice.

Demelza turned and saw Ross and Francis and Elizabeth entering the room together. Dear life, she thought, what do these men think they are? There isn't one of 'em I'd glance at twice with Ross in the room. The strong bones of his face stood out hard and severe tonight, the scar hardly showing at all. He wasn't looking for her. Beside him Francis was slight. By the colour and shape of their eyes they might have been brothers.

They might have been brothers entering a hostile room and preparing to fight. Demelza wondered if others read their expression the same, for the noise and chatter in the room grew less.

Then George Warleggan came smiling suavely up and began to move among the guests, remarking that it wanted ten minutes to eight.

The night was fine, and Demelza persuaded Ross to walk to the Assembly Rooms. The distance was nothing, and if they picked their way they would get there clean. There were already a lot of people in the streets, many of them drunk, and Demelza had the wish to see how her own kind were enjoying the night.

Two great bonfires roared, one in the cockpit overlooking the town, the other in High Cross opposite the Assembly Rooms. It was rumoured that there were to be fireworks at Falmouth, but this sophistication was not for Truro. In places lanterns had been hung on poles in the narrow streets, and the quarter moon had not yet set, so there was a fair amount of light.

Demelza wanted too to rebuild her contact with Ross. The sudden admiration of those men had surprised and elated her, but they really didn't mean anything at all. She wanted to be with Ross, to keep his company, to encourage his enjoyment, to have his admiration. But she couldn't break down the wall that his anger and resentment had set up. It was not resentment against her, but it kept her outside. Even his concern for the success of the copper company - overriding this winter - had been forgotten. She had tried to thank him for his wonderful gift but he hadn't seemed to respond.

Just for a moment his eyes had changed, warmed when he saw her in the frock, but she had not been able to keep his interest, to keep him away from his thoughts.

They reached the steps of the Assembly Rooms and paused to look back. The bonfire was roaring and crackling in the centre of the little square. Round it the figures were moving and dancing, yellow and black in the flickering flame-light. Beyond and to the right the bow windows of the houses were dotted with faces, old people and children watching the fun. To the left the light wavered through the quiet trees and set white among the gravestones. Then a carriage and a sedan chair drew up at the door of the Rooms, and Ross and Demelza turned and went up the stairs.

A GATHERING AT which the Lord Lieutenant of the County was present was a gathering of importance. For the Lord Lieutenant was the King's Man, and from him came all things great and small. Or, to be explicit, what came from him were appointments to be Justice of the Peace, and to be a J.P. meant to be the possessor of undisputed local power. For good or ill the J.P.s ruled, unchecked by Privy Council or the public purse. So the Lord Lieutenant was a man to be sought after, flattered and fawned on.

Tonight there was to be cardplaying, toasts, dancing and a wide range of refreshments. The room had been hung with red, white and blue streamers, and behind the dais, where the band played, a big painting of King George was set up.

Almost as soon as she got there Demelza saw Andrew Blamey. He had taken up a quiet place where he could see the door, and she knew he was watching for Verity. Her heart began to thump for an extra reason, for Verity was coming with Francis and that might mean trouble.

Being at the Warleggans had given her some idea what to expect, and the arrival of the people she had moved among there gave her time to take a grip. It was extraordinarily pleasing and reassuring too to see and be greeted by other people she had met before. Joan Pascoe spoke to her and introduced a young man called Paul Carruthers, who was an ensign in the Navy. Dr and Mrs Choake were there, but they kept their distance. Patience Teague unexpectedly attached herself; Demelza was very flattered until she began to suspect it was because she was in the party of George Warleggan. Then a fat pale man called Sanson (whom she remembered at the food riots) pushed his way in, blinking all the time, and took Ross in conversation. It was something about some gaming loss he had had. Before she knew it they were separated.

She was surrounded with people she did not know or knew slightly. Sir Hugh was here again and John Treneglos and a man called St John Peter, better-looking than the others and young. Several of them were talking to her and she was answering them absent-mindedly, keeping her attention for the other things. Which was the Lord Lieutenant, how did they ever get so many candles burning so even, could she get back to Ross, had Andrew Blamey moved from his corner, what sort of flowers were they in the tall vases, was her frock holding up, would she ever be able to dance with her hair so high? Several times the people about her laughed, and she wondered anxiously if one of the others had said something witty or she had somehow made a fool of herself.

She needed a drink, that was certain. The three ports at the Warleggans had made her feel well and confident, but the confidence was wearing off. More courage was needed out of a glass.

Suddenly there was a whirring noise from the band and all the noise ceased as if you had rubbed it off a slate and people stood up stiff and she realized they were playing 'God Save the King.' Very soon everyone joined in, and they sang it to the roof. When it was over the noise broke and rippled over the floor again. Then someone had found her a seat between Patience Teague and Joan Pascoe, and she was trying to fan herself with the fan Verity had loaned her.

Dwight Enys arrived with another young man, and she thought she saw the colour of Verity's dress.

Someone at the far end of the hall was speaking, but she could not see without standing up and she only heard words here and there, about 'our Gracious Majesty' and 'Divine Providence,' and 'all his people' and 'thankful hearts.' Then the voice stopped and there was a ripple of applause. Faintly could be heard the scrape of bass viols tuning up. Several men came about her. They wanted her to dance the first minuet. Where was Ross? She looked up at the faces and inclined her head slightly at St John Peter. Then a man called Whitworth, good-looking but dressed in an absurdity of fashion, pressed her for the second. She accepted but refused any for the third. Ross would come back.

The band struck up and no one went on the centre of the floor at all except two quite old people, very grand, who led off all by themselves. Then after a minute or two the band paused and everyone applauded again and began forming up.

She went out with St John Peter, who noticed that his partner's expression had changed, from that rather absent, ready-for-flight look which her talk proved so takingly deceptive, to a faint frown of serious thought. He wondered at her lack of response to his sallies. He didn't realize that she needed all her care to remember what Mrs Kemp had taught her.

Presently she found she could do well enough, and as the dance came to an end and they waited for the repeat she knew she had nothing to fear.

Nearby Joan Pascoe said: 'We never see you now, Dwight. Do you never ride in to Truro?'

'I am very occupied,' said Dwight, flushing at the hint of reproach in her voice. 'The work of the mine takes much of my time, and there are so many interesting cases in the district.'

'Well, you can always pass a night or take a meal with us when you come in for your drugs. Mama and Papa will be pleased to see you.'

'Thank you,' he said a little stiffly. 'Thank you, Joan. I'll surely keep it in mind.'

They separated and bowed and the figure reformed.

'George is very popular tonight,' St John Peter said, inclining his head towards the painting at the end of the hall. 'I remember well how he was abused over the American war.'

'How old is he?' Demelza asked.

'Who?'

'The King.'

'Oh, about fifiy, I should say.'

'I wonder what a mad king thinks he is,' she said. 'Twould be queer if he mistook himself for the Kings of England.'

St John Peter laughed. 'You know we are cousins, ma'am?'

'Who? You and the King?'

'No. You and I. Ross's grandmother and my grandfather were brother and sister.'

'But Ross's grandmother wasn't my grandmother.'

'No. Cousins-in-law. That makes it more refreshing, don't you think?'

'Quite refreshing,' said Demelza absently. 'Faith, I am most refreshed.'

Peter laughed again as they moved apart.

'You should not have come tonight, Andrew,' Verity said. 'People have seen us already. In a day or two the whole district will know.'

'It is what I wished. No good can come of secrecy, my love. Let's face it out together.'

'But I'm afraid for Francis. If he sees you tonight he may cause trouble. He is in the wrong mood.'

'Have we to wait for ever to get him in the right one? He can't stop us. He may even not object strongly now. He has grown up, is not the young hothead. We can't go on with these secret meetings. There's nothing underhand in our love. Why should there be? Why should it be warped and distorted by my old sin, which I've paid for again and again? I intend to see him tonight.'

'No, not tonight, Andrew. Not tonight. I have a feeling… A foreboding.'

The flute, the hautboy and the strings were playing an old Italian minuetto, graceful and refined. The strains of the music, thin and unforced though they were, reached every corner of the dance-room and penetrated through to where the refreshments were being served, to the rest-room, to the card-room…

... Sanson had said when they met at the door: 'I have been looking to the opportunity to play you again, Captain Poldark. The good cardplayer is very rare and it is a pleasure to sit with such an expert one.

'Thank you, I've no taste for gaming tonight,' Ross had said.

'I find that most disappointing, Captain Poldark. Last time you were very successful at my expense, and I had looked forward to the opportunity of levelling our scores. Most disappointing.' He said this in a deliberate voice.

'I'm here to escort my wife. That being so, it wouldn't fill my purpose to spend the evening in the card-room.'

'Which is your wife? I would like the pleasure.'

Ross looked about, but Demelza had been surrounded. 'Over there.'

'She seems well attended, if I may say so. Might I suggest a short game, just while the evening is warming up?'

Ross caught sight of Mrs Teague in an astonishing dress of light green and gold gauze, with green foil leaves and gold spangles. With her was Elizabeth's mother, Mrs Chynoweth, whom he detested. At that moment George Warleggan arrived with Francis and Elizabeth.

'Ah, Sanson,' he said, 'there'll be no pleasure dancing in this crush. Have you got a table?'

'I have seats saved. But they will be gone if we don't hurry. I was prevailing on Captain Poldark to join us.'

'Come along,' said George. 'With Francis we can make a foursome.'