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
He raised his wide-shouldered, lean body in the saddle to inspect the fields. Oats, barley, wheat and animal feed were in their infancy, not tall enough yet to be swayed in the light winds, but healthier in comparison to those of his own fields, advanced more by the kinder climate here in Mount’s Bay, tucked in as it was on the south coast. Barring treacherous weather, in a few weeks the fields would be aburst with harvesters – men, women and children; tinners, fisherfolk, drifters, locals without permanent jobs, earning a little something to offset their families’ hunger pangs. His brother-in-law would count his tithes and the conceited owner and landlord of the estate would count his profits. Damn him.
Clem trotted down Trecath-en’s steep valley. He stared at the silent trio of elm trees on the river bank, where he had seduced and impregnated his first wife, Alice, once Kerensa’s personal maid. He had come to love Alice, buried now in Perranbarvah’s churchyard, although not in the passionate way he had, and still did, love Kerensa. His feelings for Catherine were not destined to eclipse those either. Nothing ever would.
Before Alice’s time, he had sat under these elm trees with Kerensa planning their future, holding hands and kissing chastely. It had been enough just to be with her. They would have had many children. Been so happy. Together always and forever.
That last day, saying goodbye in Trelynne Cove, he had asked her to remember him with more than affection. He had not given her time to answer before striding away, his heart in pieces again, for the second time in his life to face the future without her, pretending to himself that his pregnant wife and the new farm miles away on the moor would finally purge his pain and sense of isolation. But without Kerensa, his soul was doomed to grieve and fester in bitterness, at times with hatred, for the man who had stolen Kerensa away from him.
He lived with a little hope. Kerensa had embraced him warmly during their last meeting, clung to his hand until the last moment. Did she still love him? So many times she had told him that she always would.