Chapters (50)
- Cover
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- The Pengarron Sagas
- The Harvey Family Sagas
‘Why could you not say all this before?’ Luke kept the gun on the same level. He had never liked Bartholomew, but he had changed from an insolent youth, who had done his best to care for his younger brothers and sisters when they had lived in poverty, into a cold-hearted killer. ‘If I hadn’t been so obsessed with my play I might have realized there was more reason for you being in Cornwall than to offload your child.’
‘I needed to study your set-up, and because of the affection I hold for your father, I also wanted to be sure this bitch did not mean harm to you in any way, Luke. I’m confident she’s only obsessed with her brat, that she took the only way, in marrying Jack, that promised its security. Now, where’s the evidence hidden?’
Luke lowered the gun but stayed fully alert. ‘I’m grateful you think so highly of my father. If what you say is true, we need fear the Society no longer. First, I’ll read your letter and watch you add the appropriate addition. Then, I will send for the document – where I have it kept will remain my secret. You surely did not think I’d have it here or at Polgissey? We will burn it together, and then that will be the end of the matter. After that, Bartholomew Drannock, I hope to never set eyes on you again. You will certainly not be welcome here when I inherit the estate. Stand back from Alicia. Leave the knife, I’ll get it.’
Smiling sardonically, Bartholomew did so.
Alicia spat at him. ‘You murdered the man I loved. One thing I have learned from the Cornish is the power of ill-wishing. I wish you dead, a violent death, a painful death, and I wish you to feel a hundredfold the terror you made Alex suffer. I shall repeat these words every day and not rest until I hear that you are dead!’
Thirty-Three
When the last party guest had gone, and Beatrice, out of necessity, had been put to bed by Polly O’Flynn and Esther King, the Pengarrons, the Drannocks and the Lanyons gathered round the dining table, set with a cold supper. Oliver dismissed the servants and the family served themselves.
The merry atmosphere in the ancient house was changing into one of disquiet. Pensive and brooding, Luke ate nothing but drank glassful after glassful of wine, and every so often he shot Bartholomew, on the opposite side of the table, a look of utter loathing. He felt sick to his stomach to be facing this man across his father’s table.
Short hours ago, he and Bartholomew had stolen away to Trelynne Cove, where they had burned Alexander Longbourne’s hateful document, which Luke had fetched from a bank vault at Marazion.