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
‘Every little sparrow is numbered by God.’ Luke raised an ironic eyebrow. ‘Yet you have no notion that a bird has lain dead for some months inside the church and rotted away. Indeed, I’m wondering if anyone has put brush, cloth or polish to the building since its origins in 1162. Cromwell’s men couldn’t have done a better work at reducing the building. I don’t expect to see such a state of affairs next week! Good morning to you.’
The mortified curate crept away, ignoring the remainder of his flock – an unusual number of worshippers today.
Luke escorted Cordelia to the gates of the weed-infested churchyard. Jack took Alicia after them, muttering how disgraceful the curate was, and she agreed.
Luke suddenly turned round to address the villagers, sure he would find some following in their wake, like gulls after a fishing boat. Nearly all of them were close up behind Jack and Alicia and they froze on the spot. He smiled, it reminded him of a childhood game, ‘What’s the time Mr Wolf?’ He hastened to assure these people that he wasn’t a wolf, about to shout out ‘dinner time!’
The people, except for a group of black-haired men, one of giant proportions, all in uncommonly fine apparel, at the back of the gathering, were sadly undernourished. Among these men, women and children he would find more workers for his house, his garden, his stables, his fields and properties.
‘Good morning to you all. I’m sure you are aware of who I am and who these people with me are. Mr Rosevear is my steward, and you may contact him with any concerns you have on the estate. I hope in due course to call on every home and get to know you.’
While Cecil Doble had kept high standards in his house, he had sorely neglected his land, tenants, and Porthcarne, which nestled where the land fell away in a deep hollow cove off the eastern reach of Polgissey. Leaving Jack to answer any immediate enquiries, Luke strode out through the rusty iron lychgate and peered over the assembly of huts and cottages. Singly and in haphazard rows, on either side of a wide rough thoroughfare, the dwellings included an alehouse and other makeshift businesses, the last solitary hut standing in foolish defiance near the edge of the beach, brazen to the elements.
Luke knew the minds of these sort of people. They hoped that he, as their new landlord would do something, anything, to better their lot. But if he did not, they would simply accept it was their fate in life to be in want and need of even the basic necessities, and they would settle down to exist as best they could. Well, he was here now and he would do his best for them, show his father that he too was of a charitable heart.