‘I should have written to you about this days ago,’ Alicia had said. ‘He’s been pleading with me to ask you to see him. He loves you, Cordelia. You can trust him. You are right for each other. You love him too, don’t you? It isn’t infatuation this time. Don’t let those who only seek to use you influence what you do with the rest of your life. Don’t miss this chance to be happy. Nothing else in the world matters.’

Cordelia had never felt entirely at ease in her elevated life, never knew who she really was, what she should do, but she had seen it clearly then. Related to gentry she may be, but she was first and foremost a fisherman’s daughter. Alicia had helped her pack the necessary things, and Jack had stolen away with them to a place outside the manor grounds where, shortly afterwards, he had met up with her and escorted her all the way to Porthcarne.

Fate in the form of those two wonderfully kind people had brought her here to this insignificant little cove. Now she was begging fate to intervene again and make Morgan look up and see her waving to him to come to her.

Of a sudden, he stopped pulling on the oars and lifted his head towards the cove.

He saw her, gazed at her a moment as if seeing something only in his imagination, then he waved back enthusiastically, sculling the boat round to row to shore. With every other rapid stroke, he looked over his shoulder, as if making sure she was still there. She leapt into the water, calling his name.

‘Cordelia! Wait there. I’m coming for you.’

Dropping her hat to float away, she trawled through the waves until waist high in the water. Streamers of her long black hair, caught by the wind, were soon wet and clinging to her shoulders.

Morgan strained to reach her. Stretching out his long arms, gently and victoriously, he pulled in the most prized catch of his life.

Thirty-Eight

Later in the day, the Kinvers were confronted at their smallholding by the Pengarrons.

‘This is our property, Sir Oliver Pengarron,’ Hal Kinver stated coolly, standing in front of four of his five brothers and his son and his nephew. ‘We’ve been expecting you. Hope this is going to be civil like, or you can bugger off back where ’ee come from, and take the young master and this other man with ’ee. Begging your pardon, ma’am, Mrs Jack.’

Kerensa and Alicia were waiting, wary and watchful, near the horses.

‘I’m pleased we aren’t about to waste time, Hal Kinver,’ Oliver said in an equally harsh voice. ‘I understand you’re being protective of your brother Morgan, but I’m not leaving here until you tell me precisely where my niece, Miss Cordelia Drannock, is.’