It had broken Clem Trenchard’s heart when she had gone through with the marriage that had been part of the bargain over Trelynne Cove. It had changed him from a happy young man full of love and hope to one inclined to sullenness and quiet moods. Clem had hoped to win Kerensa back, even after he had married Alice, her maid, and Alice had borne him twin sons. When he realised Kerensa had fallen in love with Oliver his heart had been broken again. He may have bowed out of her life, making himself a good family man, but she was sure there still were moments when he pined for her.

And Kerensa would never forget Clem. Just as the restless sea called to those who lived by it and travelled upon it, a painful tug would catch at her heart for him – a part of it that would always be his. Kerensa stood still and gazed around and wondered if Clem ever came secretly to Trelynne Cove to relive those early memories.

Chapter 6

Clem Trenchard urgently wiped his boots on the rush mat outside miner Jeb Bray’s cottage and pushed his sister through the open doorway. Rosie Trenchard tried to shrug him off and nearly lost her balance. She would have fallen into one of the tightly packed groups of people sitting on the floor if Clem had not reached out and caught her. Red-faced with embarrassment, Rosie turned on him.

‘Clem, what on earth do—’

‘Just get inside,’ he hissed.

Rosie obeyed, shaking her head in surrender. At times Clem was hard to understand. Usually Alice, his wife, had a difficult task each week to get him to attend the Bible classes. Today he had been over-eager to get there. He and Rosie had come on their own today and he had rushed her over Lancavel Downs while she had wanted to saunter along and capture the feeling of vastness and majesty that only the moors could give on a sun-drenched day, to breathe in the fresh clean air, grasp the loneliness that touched the soul into half-remembered dreams. The walks provided her with a welcome respite from the noise and eternal busyness of the family farm but Clem’s agitation had robbed her of that pleasure today. When she’d tripped in the enforced haste and insisted on sitting on a granite boulder to rub her sore ankle he had trampled a path over a patch of heather and nagged at her until she threatened to turn round and go home. All the rest of the way he had scolded her for making them late.

Another push inside the cottage and Rosie trod on an old man’s hand. He grinned understandingly and she smiled back in apology then complained to Clem in forceful tones under her breath, ‘Will you stop pushing me, Clem. Whatever will people think?’