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  The cavalcade that finally set off was a large one. Maria and Hugo led the way at a walking pace, with Allan and Eloise close behind. Oliver and Nina rode together as did Lorna and Piers, and Maggie rode with Martin. The servants followed on foot with Jon leading the well-loaded pony and Matt, Minnie, Jacob, Ellie and Ben bringing up the rear. As they came in sight of the lake and were recognized, a cheer went up from people around it, for the Kendals were well liked and everyone was curious to see Oliver’s new wife. Nina gasped as the scene unrolled before them. The frozen lake glistened with the light of the bonfires already burning, and brightly dressed skaters slid and slithered over the ice, shrieking and laughing excitedly. A spit turned over each fire and the smell and crackle of roasting fish filled the air and mingled with the smoke and sizzle of pork and mutton. A few torches had been stuck in the ground immediately around the lake and the flames illuminated the skaters with a ghostly flickering as they circled and swooped. Some skated, with bones strapped to their shoes. Others ran and slid, arms outstretched with the effort of balancing. Here and there a child crouched and was pulled along by his friends. A boy towed two little girls on a wooden toboggan. The Tucker family were also there. Maria and Hugo waved to them and exchanged a few pleasantries as they rode past, but the two families were no longer close.

  ‘Who are they?’ Eloise asked Allan.

  ‘The Tuckers? Oh, they were once our neighbours. They lived at Maudesley.’

  ‘The big empty house you showed me?’

  ‘Aye. Tis a shame to let it fall into disrepair but they built a new house further away. I hardly know them, but they were once connected to us by marriage. They also mine for tin. Joseph Tucker married my great-grandmother after her husband died and his daughter, Blanche, wed one of the Kendal sons — Matthew, I believe it was.’

  ‘But where are their descendants?’

  ‘There are none living. They had one daughter and she was never wed. Martin, Piers and I are the sole survivors!’ She laughed at the expression. ‘And you are the sole true heir.’

  ‘Aye.’

  Eloise nodded with satisfaction. ‘So I must give you plenty of sons.’

  ‘One, at least!’

  Oliver came alongside and the two men dismounted and began to talk to several of the Tuckers who had walked over. One was an elderly woman and the other a middle-aged man, neither of whom interested Eloise. She was annoyed that Allan had not helped her dismount, although all the other women in the party seemed to be managing quite well without assistance. Maggie and Maria were already unpacking the basket and Jon and Matt were preparing the fire. Eloise glanced round and saw Nina slide from her horse — a hired mare — but then suddenly Martin was standing beside her. With a flourish he took off his hat.

  ‘Sweet mistress, allow me the honour to assist you,’ he said and his eyes glinted with mischief. ‘Don’t fall,’ he warned as he held up his arms but he winked as he said it. Accordingly Eloise allowed herself to fall clumsily and gave a little cry of pretended alarm. His arms closed round her instantly. For a few heady moments she was imprisoned within his arms and his lips brushed hers in the briefest kiss.

  ‘I have caught you,’ he said. ‘You are quite safe.’ He released her but his eyes did not leave her face as he added softly, ‘But I doubt I am!’

  ‘My ankle!’ she murmured. ‘I fear I twisted it as I fell.’ She met his bold look with one of wide-eyed innocence and then as he hesitated, lowered her voice and said, ‘Won’t you please examine it for me? I would take it most kindly.’

  ‘Would you? Then I will.’

  She steadied herself with a hand on her horse’s saddle as she raised her right foot. Martin knelt down, lifted the hem of her skirt and kissed her ankle, sending a thrill leaping through her.

  Suddenly Allan’s voice broke the spell. ‘What’s this?’ he snapped, his voice harsh with suspicion. ‘Martin? What’s happening, I say?’

  Martin looked up calmly. ‘’Tis her ankle. She slipped as she dismounted.’

  ‘I think ’tis twisted,’ said Eloise. In her excitement she did not trouble to disguise the lie. ‘Martin was kind enough to — ’

  Martin said quickly. ‘Put your full weight on it. Try it.’

  Allan was no longer looking at them but at her foot. Eloise did as Martin instructed and grimaced slightly as though in pain.

  ‘’Tis not as bad as I feared,’ she said.

  For a moment no one spoke then Allan said, ‘You had best not skate then, with a twisted ankle.’

  ‘Oh, but — ’

  ‘Mayhap you would like to return home and rest it.’

  ‘No, Allan — ’ she protested, trying to conceal her dismay. It was all a game, she knew. Allan had not been fooled, but they would protest their innocence if he challenged them and he could prove nothing.

  Martin stood up and she gave him a furious look. She did not want to miss the skating or be sent home! He avoided her eyes.

  ‘I think if you rest it a little,’ he suggested mildly, ‘there is no real damage. You can skate later.’

  She nodded. Allan seemed about to argue the point but then he changed his mind, swung on his heel and abruptly rejoined Oliver. Eloise saw that Nina stood nearby, watching the little scene, and wondered how much the girl had seen and understood. Impossible to tell, for the girl’s dark eyes stared impassively into hers. Eloise was disconcerted but not for long. The girl might well have seen and understood but she was dumb.

  Just then Lorna came running up. ‘Eloise! Come and skate with me and hold my hand.’

  ‘I’ll help you,’ added Piers.

  Lorna shook her head. ‘He’ll let me fall. I know it. Eloise, you come with me.’

  Martin said loudly, ‘Eloise has hurt her foot and must rest it awhile. Here, take my hands. I’ll skate with you.’

  Jon glanced up from the fire as they passed. ‘Don’t go into the middle,’ he warned. ‘They say ’tis very thin. Keep to the edges and you’ll be safe enough.’

  Matt, skewering chickens on the spit, laughed boisterously, his eyes gleaming. ‘I’ll be skating afore long, you see if I don’t!’ he shouted. ‘I’m a rare one for skating, I am. You’ll see.’

  Maria smiled at him affectionately. ‘You’re a “rare one” at everything, Matt,’ she teased. ‘Just finish the chickens and baste them and then join the others. Maggie and I are quite content to stay by the warm fire. We’ll watch the food for a while. Do you want to skate, Jon? Then go, but keep an eye on Piers, will you? He’s much too bold and will take foolish risks. And fight the torches and take them with you to set at the water’s edge.’ She turned towards Eloise, who was spreading out the sheepskins — ‘Aren’t you going to skate?’ she asked in surprise. ‘Allan and Oliver are down there, and Martin.’

  Eloise repeated the lie about her ankle and was thankful that Maria accepted it without question. She sat down and Nina joined her for a while. Then Oliver returned for her and, promising to take care of her, led her towards the lake.

  There were more people now and the skating area was ringed with torches. Above them a full moon shone, cold and white, and the dark sky was speckled with stars. Time passed and finally Allan came to ask Eloise, sarcastically, if she was fit enough to skate. She said she would rest a little longer and he left her again without a word. A few moments later Nina came back and settled herself on the sheepskin, indicating to Maria that she would watch the chickens if Maria and Maggie wanted to skate. Maggie replied that they did and dragged Maria with her, leaving Nina and Eloise. Nina gave the spit handle a turn and Eloise, watching her, was struck by the girl’s calm manner and serene expression. She almost envied her. She had an adoring husband and was with child and was being petted and pampered by all at Ladyford! She had good reason to be pleased with her lot!

  ‘Will you skate with me?’

  It was Martin. Eloise was tempted to refuse him also, but that way she would be the loser for she would get no skating. By way of answer she held out her hands a
nd Martin pulled her to her feet.

  ‘Will Allan object?’ he asked as they walked to the edge of the lake.

  ‘He may,’ she answered sharply. ‘’Tis of no interest to me.’

  He looked at her in the light from the torches and marvelled at her beauty. The warm glow hid the hard expression in her eyes and softened the haughty line of her jaw. Her long lashes shadowed her eyes, making them dark and mysterious, and her lips were slightly parted to reveal her even teeth, which showed palely in the gloom. She wore red and the material, catching the light, gleamed where it curved over her breasts.

  ‘Eloise!’ The word was drawn from him. He had not intended it. Nor was he aware of the desire evident in that one word. He knew only that his blood pounded and his heart hammered against his ribs. Eloise, too, was aware of his excitement and her own body seemed to spring into life and vibrate with a dangerous passion. She had aroused him and the knowledge quenched all her anger, leaving her at the mercy of her own emotions. He is so young yet almost a man, she thought.

  ‘Eloise! You’ve recovered I see.’

  Allan’s voice was as cold as the ice on which he stood. He held out his hand to her but she could not, would not, take it.

  ‘Shall we skate as a threesome?’ she suggested lightly.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘You will skate with me.’

  Allan saw her as an enchantress — her lips pouting seductively and her eyes promising ecstasy. He glanced at his younger brother and saw the desire which Martin made no attempt to conceal.

  ‘Or mayhap you will skate with me?’ said Martin coolly.

  Both men waited for what seemed an eternity.

  ‘I cannot decide,’ she said at last. ‘Suppose you make the decision for me. I propose that you skate across the lake — straight across … and I shall skate with whoever reaches the other side first.’

  Eloise knew that the ice was dangerously thin in the middle of the lake. She did not know how deep the water was, but she did not care. If they were both so determined to partner her they must prove themselves worthy. And the best man would win.

  ‘Supper’s ready!’ called Maggie and there were answering shouts from the skaters. Allan and Martin continued to look at Eloise. Race, she urged them silently. Take up the challenge if you are so besotted. Men are such fools!

  Now Maria was calling to them and Oliver passed, laughing and out of breath, with Minnie puffing and panting behind him and Piers and Lorna declaring that they were starving.

  ‘The food is ready,’ Piers told them and Eloise nodded her head to show that they had heard.

  Matt lumbered by, boasting of his prowess on the ice, and Ellie and Ben danced after him, wildly exaggerating their own exploits.

  Eloise, Allan and Martin were left behind and suddenly it seemed that everyone was eating or relaxing on the grass and the lake was quite deserted.

  ‘Well?’ said Eloise with a slight lift of her eyebrows.

  Allan cursed her, then turned and began to skate across the pond. Martin followed him, a few yards behind. She watched breathlessly and her heightened senses throbbed with sudden fear. From behind her a cry went up and she recognized Jon’s voice calling a warning.

  The cry was taken up on all sides of the lake but her attention was riveted on the two figures mid-way across the grey expanse. Allan was now past the middle and miraculously the ice held. He was slimly built and skated at speed. Martin, heavier and less sure, reached the middle a few yards behind his brother. But Allan’s weight had already strained the ice and now a sharp ‘crack’ was heard and a thin dark line spread across the ice as it parted under Martin. He threw up his arms soundlessly and was gone. There was a scream from Maria and then Allan turned and Eloise, seeing the horror in his eyes, felt a wave of panic which robbed her of all movement. She stood as though rooted to the spot and stared at the black water which spread slowly over the ice. As though in a nightmare, she watched Allan fling himself down on to the ice and begin to edge his way forward towards the spot where Martin had disappeared. Everywhere men ran forward, shouting to one another. A rope was produced and flung across the ice and Oliver and Allan edged forward from opposite sides towards the centre. As they went they beat at the ice ahead of them, and at last a large sheet broke free and for a moment Martin’s head bobbed into view, only yards from Oliver’s outstretched arms. Oliver slid forward and grabbed Martin by the hair and then the ice broke again and they were both in the water. Matt and Jon and another man hauled on the rope and drew the two cousins towards the thicker ice. Somehow they were pulled up on to it and out of immediate danger.

  Martin was barely conscious but he opened his eyes almost at once and allowed Maria to force hot mulled wine between his chattering teeth. Oliver was also chilled through and they were both taken back to Heron as quickly as possible. Maria, Maggie and Hugo rode with them, but they insisted that the rest of the party should finish their meal. The excitement died down and the crowd at the lakeside dispersed. It was no longer possible to skate on the broken ice and a promising night’s sport had been ruined. The disappointed people made their way home and within the hour there was no one left. The moon shone on the dying fires as a solitary dog made his way among them, snapping up any scraps of food that remained. The ice cracked as it settled and the sound alerted him but, sensing no danger, he finished his rounds and trotted slowly away.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Devon May 1576

  Hugo rubbed his eyes tiredly and began to straighten the papers and books that littered his desk. It was nearly eleven o’clock and at any moment the bell would go to end the morning shift. Then the tinners would start coming up to the surface, swaying in their leather ‘bucket’ as the windlass men winched them into the daylight after their seven hours’ labour underground. It was hard work and they were hard men. Theirs was a labour of unrelieved effort in uncongenial conditions, but they took a perverse pride in their profession — they were proud people. A hundred fathoms or more under the ground, they sweated and swore together, hewing the tin ore with their picks, loading it into the trucks, hauling it back along the tunnel to the shaft bottom where it would be raised by others. They worked in semi-darkness, the blackness broken only by the light of their oil lamps, and frequently stood in pools of muddy water which never drained away fast enough, in spite of all their efforts. As they cut into the veins of tin, the water trickled down the rock face and their long leather boots were soon sodden and uncomfortable. Add to these discomforts the hazard of roof falls, flooding and the noxious sulphur fumes which sometimes seeped from fissures in the rock — in all it was a wretched existence. The money they earned was never enough to pay the physician when years of gritty dirt finally ruined their lungs and choked them into early graves. It was a grim existence. But, thought Hugo ruefully, tell them that existence was about to end and there would be a violent outcry.

  He stood up and eased his back. He had been sitting there for the last two hours, studying the facts and figures which he knew by heart, trying, even at the last moment, to find another solution. With no success. Some of the men would have to go and he could no longer delay telling them. He sighed deeply then shouted for Barlowe, the mine manager. Barlowe would stay. He was a truculent, violent man, but he was by far the most experienced man on the payroll and Hugo valued him. He was respected, too, by the other tinners, and there were few who would dare go against him. Hugo had given him a hint of the impending changes so he, at least, would not be entirely surprised.

  ‘Aye, sir?’ He appeared at the door already dressed for the next shift.

  ‘Keep the next shift on the surface, Barlowe,’ said Hugo. ‘And don’t let the last lot disperse. I must speak to all the men in the yard twenty minutes from now. The women, also, from the washing shed.’

  He saw Barlowe’s eyes narrow and waited for the question, but the man thought better of it and merely nodded and withdrew. The Heron mine employed twenty women and young girls. In the washing shed they sorted the rough ore wh
ich came straight from the trucks, washing off the mud and separating unwanted soil and rock fragments before it went into the crazing mill to be crushed. They were mostly wives and daughters of the miners, almost as tough as the men themselves. They came miles across the moors each day, mostly on foot and, apart from one or two troublemakers, they were a cheerful crowd. Hugo looked distractedly round the hut which served as both store and office. The womenfolk would not be cheerful much longer, he thought. Hell and damnation, he muttered, I wish to God it could be otherwise!

  Through the window he could see the line of miners waiting for the next shift. Barlowe was talking to them and he could read the apprehension on their faces. As the manager left them and crossed to the windlass man to repeat the message, the line of men broke into small groups and their talk was agitated. Men coming off-shift handed in any oil which remained in their lamps and joined the others. Hugo waited nervously. Only half a dozen men had come up so far. There were another nineteen waiting below in blissful ignorance. Barlowe now made his way to the washing shed and within minutes the women came swarming out like angry bees, some talking among themselves, others making for their menfolk. Ten minutes later Hugo was standing on an upturned barrel and nearly a hundred faces, lit by the warm sunlight, were upturned towards him.

  ‘’Tis never easy to impart bad news,’ said Hugo bluntly and a ripple of dismay swept through his audience, ‘but I won’t insult your intelligence by pretending otherwise. I’ve delayed it as long as I was able but to keep the facts from you any longer would be sheer folly. The Heron mine is no longer making enough profit to support us all — you’ve probably guessed that for yourselves. The men know how little ore we’ve taken over the last nine months. Maybe they’ve told the womenfolk, maybe they’ve kept it to themselves. No one cares to bear ill news and I’m no exception to that.’