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Chapter 17
St. Agnes Head Cornwall
SPRING WAS SERIOUSLY in doubt on the northern coast of Cornwall. As they traveled to the northwest, it became more cold and blustery. The wind blew hard, making the tree branches moan and rustle in the darkness. The air off the Irish Sea tasted of brine and the smell of seaweed was strong.
Thomas didn’t call a halt until nearly eight-thirty in the evening. For the entire day he had ridden some fifty feet in front of the carriage, leaving her to stew alone. She’d been so bored, and finally so desperate to relieve herself, that she’d finally opened the carriage door, leaned out as far as she could, and shouted up to Tim McCulver, “Stop the bloody carriage or I’ll jump!”
The carriage stopped in under six seconds.
“Thank you,” Meggie said, climbed down, and walked into the stand of oak trees beside the road.
When she came out some minutes later, her new husband was sitting astride his horse, looking intently at her. “Are you all right?”
“As in was I careful not to attach any poison ivy to myself?”
“No, but were you careful about that as well?” She nodded, paid him no more attention, and climbed back into the carriage. If he didn’t want to be lover-like, perhaps beg her pardon a dozen times, then she would do her part and ignore him.
Exactly two hours later Tim McCulver pulled the carriage to a stop, opened the carriage door, and said, “His Lordship asked me to see if you wished to stop for a moment and perhaps commune with nature.”
“Yes,” Meggie said. “Thank you.” They didn’t stop for dinner. It was nearly twilight. Meggie was so bored, she couldn’t stand herself anymore. She didn’t think, just climbed out of the carriage window. Tim McCulver didn’t see her until she swung onto the top of the carriage, crawled over the low railing and slipped down onto the seat beside him. He was so startled, he dropped the reins and let out a yell.
“It’s all right, Tim. Goodness, the reins. Here, let me get them.”
Before Meggie could reach down for the horses’ reins, Tim squeaked, threw himself forward, nearly falling between the two horses, managed to snag the reins, and as Meggie nearly lifted him back into his seat, he was moaning.
“Are you all right?”
“It ain’t the done thing, milady, it jest ain’t the done thing. Ye’re here wi’ me, and his lordship will twist me ears off me head. Oh Lord, listen to me, yer favorite sinner needs yer good graces.”
“His lordship will do nothing of the kind. If there is any twisting to be done, let him just try it on my ears.” And she laughed, feeling the wind tear at her bonnet. It wasn’t until they drove into St. Agnes, a very small village one mile inland from the Irish Sea, that Thomas rode back to the carriage to see his wife seated beside Tim McCulver, who’d driven his mother since Thomas was five years old.
He couldn’t think of a thing to say. He saw Tim’s anguish, saw the grin on his wife’s face, not a sweet confiding grin, but rather a grin that dared him to make a scene. He wasn’t without sense. He kept his mouth shut. Later, he thought, later, he would take her apart. He pictured her hauling herself out of the carriage window and blanched.
There was some moon, but it was hidden behind dark bloated clouds.
Tim said, “It will rain before midnight, milord. I’m glad we didn’t get caught in it.”
“I just hope it will clear by tomorrow.”
“Why?” Meggie asked as she stuffed her windblown hair back under her bonnet and retied it.
Thomas said, “Traveling by boat is more difficult in bad weather. Women tend to moan and complain and puke their guts over the side.”
“What a perfectly happy thought,” Meggie said and climbed down without waiting for anyone to assist her. Her skirt snagged on the brake, and she very nearly went crashing to the ground. She said a small prayer of thanksgiving that she didn’t fall. She could just see him standing over her, legs spread, hands on hips, sneering at her, treating her like a nincompoop. She said, “How nice it must be for men not to get seasick. Do you think it is due to a man’s natural superiority? Or to a female’s frailty, her inherent weakness?”