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
Where could he find himself such a woman? He was suddenly wildly jealous of Jack’s fabulous gain and the rights and privileges that went with it. She never made a man feel less of himself by inappropriate fussings. When the grieving for her lover was over, she was going to make an ideal mate.
God, why didn’t I marry her? At least it would have given me something else to think about.
Pain stabbed through Luke’s crippled arm and he groaned in misery. ‘Don’t worry, Jack, the three of us will go away together. And soon. On that I am adamant.’
Nine
Go and speak to your brother, Kane,’ Kerensa urged the more agreeable of her elder sons. ‘He’s feeling awful about coughing like that in church.’
‘Feeling awful about making a spectacle of himself, more like,’ Jessica announced tartly.
‘Don’t let him hear you say that,’ Kerensa cautioned. Jessica should show more understanding. Luke was suffering.
‘Where is he anyway?’ Kane was always willing to be on good terms with anyone.
He looked for his brother along the length and breadth of the great hall of the manor house, where a mountainous spread of food, port and wines was laid on for the guests. From portraits ascending the mighty stairs, Pengarron forebears, dating back to Sir Arthur, titled in King Henry VIII’s reign, gazed down on the gathering; not, it seemed, in their usual dark-eyed disdain, but with approval at the newest of their prestigious line.
‘If you’re looking for Luke,’ Olivia said, arriving at Kane’s side and fixing Harry, who was reclining wide-eyed in Kerensa’s arms, with an artistic eye, ‘he’s outside in the stable yard with Jack and a few other of the young gentlemen. Harry’s got a fascinating little face. When can I paint him?’
‘Come over to the farm whenever you like,’ Kane replied. ‘Why are they in the stable yard? Has Father placed an interesting piece of horseflesh there?’
‘No, they’re making wagers on the races at Falmouth next week.’
‘Not silly amounts of money, I hope.’ Kerensa frowned.
‘Oh, Mama.’ Olivia tossed her head impatiently.
Oliver joined his family, with him were Kelynen and his closest friends, Sir William and Lady Rachael Beswetherick, landowners of the next parish. Oliver enclosed his married daughter in his arms and spoke in her ear, ‘So, beloved, when are you going to present your mama and I with the next precious little bundle?’
‘There’s plenty of time for that,’ Olivia muttered testily. She was becoming increasingly impatient with this question, asked by just about everyone she encountered nowadays. Damn it, she wasn’t a brood mare. ‘Excuse me, I promised to take a turn round the hall with Mrs Ralph Harrt. She needs an arm to lean on, her arthritic ankles, you know.’