Lord of the Far Island, Victoria Holt [world of reading TXT] 📗

"Oh yes, the title's been in the family for years . . . one of the Hydrocks was knighted years ago . . . something to do with fighting for the King against the Parliament, and when the King came back, there was title and lands for the family."

"I gathered they had been at the Manor for generations. It's a wonderful old place."

"The Hydrocks have been the squires of these lands ever since they got the title and that's going back a few years—just as the Kellaways have owned the Far Island for about as many years."

"They own the Island?"

"Why yes, 'tis often known as Kellaway's Isle."

"There are surely not just Kellaways there."

"Bless you, no. It's a thriving community. Leastways it's been so since. . . . It's got its farmlands and shops and there's even an inn. People go there for quietness. You can feel really cut away from the world there."

"Mrs. Pengelly, what do you know about my mother and father?"

She spread her hands before her and gazed down at them as though looking for inspiration there. Then she raised her eyes and looked straight into mine. "She just couldn't abide the place," she said. "She was always saying she would leave. There were quarrels. Your father was not an easy man to live with. Then she just went away and took you with her. That's all I know."

"You were her maid so you must have lived close to her."

Mrs. Pengelly lifted her shoulders. "She came from the town. She used to hate the sound of the waves pounding on the shores. She said the cries of the gulls were like voices jeering at her because she was a prisoner."

"A prisoner!"

"That was how she felt. . . having left her home in London and coming down to Kellaway's Isle. . . ."

"So she left her home, her husband, everything . . . except me. She must have been unhappy."

"She was so bright and lively when she came here. Then she changed. There's some people Kellaway's Isle wouldn't suit and she's one of them."

"What of my father? Didn't he try to bring her back?"

"No, he just let her go."

"So he didn't care very much about either of us."

"He wasn't the sort of man to be very interested in children. And then of course . . ."

She trailed off and I said eagerly: "Yes, what?"

"Oh, nothing. I left then. There was no cause for me to be there when she was gone. I came back to the mainland. My father kept this inn then and I married Pengelly and he helped me to run the inn, and then my father died and it passed to us."

"Who is Jago Kellaway. . . what relation to me?"

"Now that's something he'll tell you. He wouldn't want me to be talking too much."

"You seem afraid of him."

"He's not the sort a body would want to offend."

"He's my guardian apparently."

"Is that so then, Miss?"

"That's what he said in his letter."

"Well then it be right and proper that you be under his roof."

"There seems to be a sort of mystery about the Island or the Kellaways. I notice a change in people when they learn who I am."

"They'd be surprised, I reckon. Hereabouts people know something about others' business and they'd know your mother went off with her child and you be that child. Stands to reason they're interested to see what you've grown up like."

"Is that all it is? I wish I knew more about the Island and my family."

"Well, Miss, that'll be something you'll soon be finding out, won't it? My dear life, I be forgetting I have work to do. Be 'ee sure there's nothing I can bring 'ee?"

I thanked her and assured her I wanted nothing. I could see that she was a little afraid that she might have said too much and that I might trap her into saying still more.

The evening passed quickly. I kept going over the events of the day and I told myself that I should not be completely sorry if the sea prevented my crossing to the Island for another day, for I might see Michael Hydrock again.

Next morning I awoke to a calm sea, glittering in the sunshine.

I was sure I would cross to the Island on that day and I was right. At ten o'clock in the morning the boat arrived.

The Castle

I saw it from my window. A man and a boy alighted and two oarsmen remained in the boat. The man was of medium height, thickset, with light brown hair; the boy slim and I imagined about fourteen years of age. I went downstairs. Mrs. Pengelly greeted me. "The boat be come, Miss Kellaway."

One of the men from the inn stables brought down my bags and by that time the man and the boy had come into the inn.

Mrs. Pengelly bustled around very eager to please.

"Oh, Mr. Tregardier, so you be come at last. I did see how 'twas. Miss Kellaway will be pleased to see 'ee, I know."

The man held out his hand and shook mine. He studied me with curiosity.

"I am so pleased to meet you at last," he said. "I'm William Tregardier, Mr. Kellaway's estate manager. He wants me to tell you how eagerly he is awaiting your arrival on the Island. Alas we have been at the mercy of the sea."

"It's calm this morning."

"Like a lake. You can be sure we set out as soon as it was possible to do so. We didn't want you to have a rough crossing right at the start. That would have given you a very bad impression."

He was smiling in a rather benign way and Mrs. Pengelly said: "You'd be liking some refreshment before you start out, Mr. Tregardier, I'll be bound."

"Well, it's a pleasant idea, Mrs. Pengelly."

"I'll be bringing you something. I've got my special bees wine if you'd care for it. There's my sloe gin too, a fresh batch of buns and a saffron cake hot from the