POVERTY'S PRIDE

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (Part Three)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (Part Three) 

George called at the cottage before sunset offering to chop logs for the fire which Cynthia insisted on maintaining. Later he came into the kitchen through the back of the cottage and sat at the table as Rosalind offered him tea.

     ‘Was it a very solemn occasion?’ she asked him. ‘Did many attend the funeral?’

     George nodded and sipped the tea. ‘The Master wanted a quiet service but despite that, quite a few of the gentry in the county attended. There were some fine carriages and horses.’

     Rosalind couldn’t help smiling at a groom’s simple view of the affair. After all horses and carriages was his life.

     ‘It must have been tiring for Mr Timpson, his health being so bad,’ Rosalind said.

      George’s lip curled and a deep frown furrowed his brow.

     ‘The Rector was laid low again. The curate Mr Tucker took the service. He fawned over the family gentlemen and made to return to the house with them but Sir Leopold would have none of him.’

     Rosalind felt a shudder go though her at the mention of Joshua Tucker. In her heart she could not help but see him an evil man. She pondered on Sir Leopold’s austere attitude to the curate. Perhaps the master of Cliff House had more good judgement than she had credited him with.

The days went by at the cottage slowly. Lady Daphne and Richard Whillowby hardly called on their sister and Rosalind suspected they were quickly losing patience with her. Finally they took their leave at the week-end.

Rosalind could find no common ground with Cynthia Trevellian and felt strangely lonely. She missed Pricilla’s joyful company and she missed Cedric too, but would hardly let herself admit it.

     Each morning Cynthia had taken to long walks alone along the cliff path. Rosalind sensed she was growing apprehensive that her lover, whoever he was, had not made an appearance to whisk her away. Each evening she confirmed to Rosalind her belief that he would come the following day, but there was a growing anxiety in her eyes.

     Rosalind could feel no sympathy for her. If she was so unhappy it had been caused by her selfishness and Rosalind wished that something positive would happen soon to relieve her of her duties at the cottage. Whereas previously she had dreaded returning to Cliff House, now she was eager to be there again to look on the faces of those she loved.

Joshua Tucker walked the cliff path on the warm July morning making his way to Cliff House, determined this time not to be denied his rights.

It had been over a week since the funeral of Jonathan Trevellian, his own half-brother, Joshua reminded himself. He still felt resentment that Sir Leopold had brushed him aside. His mother would do nothing to help him it seemed. Now he must take matters into his own hands to gain his rightful inheritance. He would face Sir Leopold this very morning and not take no for an answer. His father must acknowledge him.

As he looked ahead along the twisting cliff path he saw that he was not alone out walking that morning. A woman was someway ahead of him. He hurried a little to close the distance between them.

As he neared her he was uncertain of her identity, but it might be Rosalind Trevellian. No one else seemed to be around at this time and he was elated that this might be a new opportunity to dispose of her.

     As he drew closer he was puzzled by the figure. The woman’s blonde hair was loose; strands flicking about her head by the morning breeze that came off the sea. Her dress was not that of a servant but not that of a fashionable lady either.