The Foundling Bride. Helen Dickson

himself and shaken by its swift encroachment on his life at a time when he had vowed never to become enamoured by another woman. But, try as he might to dismiss them, those thoughts gave birth to an impractical possibility that he would not let himself consider just then—for to do so would unleash the pain and heartache he had locked away when Isabel had betrayed him with Edward.

      But he would not allow himself to think for another moment that the young girl he had teased and laughed with, who had enchanted and amused him, was romantically entangled with Edward. Such an idea was insane. It was obscene. He would not believe it—because he couldn’t bear to believe it.

      But if there was no truth in it then why had she not come right out and said so?

      ‘When I said she is a girl,’ he went on, ‘what I really meant was that she is a child compared to Edward and his vast experience with women.’

      ‘Then we must keep an eye on her and keep her away from him.’

      ‘Yes, I intend to do just that. Much as I applaud Edward for his good taste, I can’t help thinking that if we let Lowena find herself in his clutches it would be like feeding her to the wolves.’

      ‘I think you underestimate her, Marcus. I strongly suspect that she has the courage to pit her will against any man—including you,’ Lady Alice said quietly.

      Marcus’s face tensed and he gave his mother a sharp look. ‘Rest assured, Mother. Lowena is quite safe from me. Now, tell me what you have been up to since you were removed from Tregarrick.’

      ‘I’ve been to Devon to stay with my dear friend Anne Holland and her family—she thought some time away after the funeral would be a comfort to me. But never mind that. We must make arrangements for Lowena.’

      ‘Very well. What do you suggest?’

      ‘I shall see that she is given responsible work. In fact Dorothy, my personal maid, is not as young as she was, and I have noticed that she is slowing down of late—not that I would say anything...the last thing I want to do is upset her. Lowena is a bright young thing, and if she is in agreement—even though I think her talents would be wasted—I will train her as a lady’s maid. I’ll give her a few days to settle in and then I’ll discuss it with her. Leave it with me. I will deal with it.’

      ‘Thank you—that is a relief. Although I worry about what will happen to her when we leave for London. Would you think of taking her with you?’

      ‘Certainly, if she accepts the position I offer her. Without Izzy, and with Hester and Kenza married now, and Annie having gone to live with Hester, she is quite alone in the world, poor girl. I often wonder about her—who were her parents and where did she come from?’

      She sighed.

      ‘I’ve always had a fondness for her—and I know you have too, and that because you were the one who found her you have always felt responsible for her. However, for all her provincial ways, I feel she is not of the servant class. My heart goes out to her, for I cannot imagine what it would be like to be without family.’

      ‘Lowena always considered Izzy’s family her own.’

      ‘I know, but it’s not the same, Marcus. After all this time I don’t suppose we will ever know where she comes from. She’s such a bright girl, with an intelligence I have not witnessed before in a young lady. Not even Juliet. Izzy taught her well—although a great deal of what she has learned she’s gleaned from the books she borrows from the library at Tregarrick. Izzy was disappointed that her own girls did not have the same enthusiasm for learning.’

      Gazing at her son she smiled.

      ‘You really do look very handsome in your red coat, Marcus, but I imagine you’ll have to discard it now you’re no longer a soldier.’

      ‘I intend to. But I’ve worn uniform for so long that I’ve outgrown most of my clothes. I thought I’d ride into St Austell and visit the tailor. I intend to call at the mine on the way.’

      * * *

      Sheltered in the protective folds of low hills was the Tregarrick estate. It dated back several centuries, and each generation of the Carberrys had made its mark on the house with some addition or alteration. It was a beautiful house, with an air of permanence and importance about it. Built of Cornish granite, its very solidity gave it an air of solemnity. Large mullioned windows allowed light to pour into the interior, the gardens were beautifully landscaped, and the high surrounding walls and tall iron gates concealed the private lives of those within.

      Lowena put her hand on the gate at the same moment as a skein of geese left the lake and took to the air overhead in a V formation, and she did not see the curtain that was let fall to cover a window as the watcher moved to follow the girl.

      Once through the gates, Lowena headed towards the sea. When it reached the coastal path the land sloped down towards the village, which had clung to the Cornish cliffs for centuries. Life there was something of a challenge, fishing, farming and mining being the bedrock of the community, but the village was not to be Lowena’s destination today.

      Heading west, she followed the coastal path. Lady Alice had been kind enough to allow her a day to settle in at the cottage, so she had taken advantage of the fine weather to walk by the sea. She was grateful to Mr Marcus for removing her from Tregarrick. At least now she would be free of the predatory attentions of its owner.

      As she walked along she took delight in the wild flowers that grew in abundance, along with the overgrown prickly gorse bushes, ablaze with yellow flowers, and the brambles and honeysuckle running rampant in the hollows and thickets.

      Having walked some distance, she suddenly had an eerie sense that she was being followed. Halting her step, she turned and glanced back. Apart from the distant faint rhythm of the sea breaking gently upon the shore she could hear nothing, and there was no one in sight, but she had an unsettling feeling—as though someone was watching her. After a moment she carried on walking, thinking that perhaps she was imagining it.

      Focusing her attention on the endless miles of sea, she saw that today it was calm, the waves breaking lazily on the soft smooth sand. A small fishing boat heading towards the village sailed slowly by on the calm water, followed by squawking gulls. Ahead of her, about half a mile away, was the cursed cove, and beyond that the Carberry mine, Wheal Rozen. Its tall chimney was clearly visible.

      Below ground its shafts stretched right out beneath the sea. A shudder made its way down her spine, as it always did when she thought of the men who toiled in cramped, hot and airless conditions, working in fear of rock falls and many suffering chest conditions which would shorten their lives.

      At nineteen, Lowena was in the uncertainty between being a young lady and a woman. Since Izzy had died she had been cast adrift, alone in a world she did not understand. Before, she had been an orphan too, she supposed, but she had never felt like one. Izzy had loved her family and sacrificed so much for them, and Lowena would be eternally grateful to her for making her a part of that family.

      They had been a joyous family—full of fun and laughter—and throughout Lowena’s childhood they had shaken their heads and teased her whenever she’d studied too long at her books, laughingly saying—not unkindly—what a cuckoo it was that had arrived in their nest from nowhere.

      The description hadn’t concerned her, because the fact was that she was different. Izzy’s teachings and encouragement to advance herself had inspired Lowena. She had often reflected on her future, and before Izzy had died she had considered following the same path she had taken and becoming a governess. Her world and her aspirations for the future had fallen apart when Izzy had died, and her passing had left her bereft until Lady Alice had been kindness itself and taken her on as a servant at Tregarrick.

      But Lowena was a restless soul, with a yearning to be free of all constraints, and her spirit was as wild as the moor to the north. With a sudden release of energy she broke into a run as if the Devil himself pursued her. Her skirts flapped about her legs and her unbound hair streamed behind her like a ship’s pennant.

      Not