Lord of the Far Island by Victoria Holt (romance book recommendations TXT) 📗

We found the inn with the old sign creaking over the door: The Corn Dolly. We went inside; there were no other guests and we ordered cider to drink and whatever they had to offer us to eat. There were pasties, of course, and squab and lammy pies as well as cold meats.

When the innkeeper's wife brought us hot pasties and cider Michael asked her if she knew the whereabouts of a Mr. John Fen-wick.

"Oh, you do mean him as was up at Mulberry," she said. "He didn't stay long. 'Tweren't the life for him. He was more of a clerk like."

"He used to come in here quite a lot, I believe."

"Oh yes, he were a regular. He reckoned our cider were the best he ever tasted. Had a fancy for my pasties too, the same as you be having now ... he did."

I said I was not surprised, which pleased her; but she couldn't help us over Mr. Fenwick as she had no idea where he had gone.

"Not a very profitable morning," said Michael ruefully. "Never mind, we'll find him in time. I'll make inquiries. It shouldn't be too difficult. What do you think of the old Corn Dolly?"

"It's charming and what an odd name."

"You saw the sign as we came in?"

"Yes, it looked like a bundle of corn tied up to look like a doll."

"That's exactly what it is. At the end of the harvest they make these corn dollies and hang them around the place. Did you see the one in the hall as we came in? They're supposed to bring a good harvest next year."

"It reminds me in a way of the Polcrag Inn. The open fireplace . . . the oak beams."

"They haven't an earthenware lamp like this," said Michael, picking up an object from the center of the table. It was shaped like a candlestick. "See this hole at the top?" he went on. "A cupful of oil can be poured through that and then they insert a wick which they call a purvan. I like to see them keeping up the old customs. You don't see many of these Stonen Chills about now."

I picked it up and examined it. I said it was quaint but my mind was really on Fenwick and I was bitterly disappointed that our search had been fruitless.

He leaned across the table and patted my hand.

"Cheer up," he said. "I promise you I'll find Fenwick for you."

"Thank you. It's good of you to be so helpful."

"Nothing of the sort. It will be a pleasure. Leave it to me. I'll tell you what I'll do. When I find something I'll send you a message by carrier pigeon. How's that?"

"That would be fun," I replied. "And I'm sure Slack would be delighted."

"Gwennol and I often send messages like that."

"Yes, she told me."

We left the Corn Dolly and when we came in sight of the sea I was dismayed to see that a little way out the white horses were putting in an appearance.

"It's an offshore wind," said Michael. "Nothing much. They'll get you back all right, but it would be advisable to set out without delay."

"I rowed myself over," I said.

"Oh." His expression changed and became anxious, but he said no more until we reached the inn.

By that time I could see more of the white-crested waves.

"I'll row you over," Michael announced.

"That's not necessary."

"But I shall insist. It might be hard going. You need a man's hands on the oars in this tetchy kind of sea."

"And I was so proud of myself for rowing over alone!"

"It was fine coming. That's always the trouble though. Changes come too quickly."

Michael had arranged everything. He would hire a slightly stronger boat than the Ellen and in it he would row me over and row himself back. He would arrange for the Ellen to be taken over by one of the inn men. It was a very simple matter.

I felt uneasy as he rowed me to the Island—not of the elements but of the construction Gwennol and her mother would put on this if they discovered that I had spent some time on the mainland with Michael Hydrock and that he had rowed me back. It seemed almost certain that they would.

As we drew farther from the mainland the wind seemed to drop a little.

"I could have managed by myself," I said.

"Perhaps you could," he replied, "but I shouldn't have been very happy letting you go."

We got out of the boat and stood together on the shore.

"You'll come to the castle?" I asked.

"I don't think I will. I should get back. The Ellen should be here soon."

"It's been so kind of you."

"It's been the greatest pleasure for me."

He jumped back into the boat and I pushed it out. He waved and took the oars.

As I went up the incline towards the castle I met Jenifry. I knew by the manner in which she looked at me that she had seen our arrival, had watched him hold my hand on the shore when he said goodbye and had seen him go off in the boat.

I wondered whether Jenifry told Gwennol what she had seen. I found myself watching them furtively, which, if they noticed this, might have made me seem guilty.

The next day Gwennol went to the mainland and I stayed on the Island, and it occurred to me that I might go and call on Tassie.

Perhaps she would have a different future for me if Jago were not present.

She was sitting at the door of her cottage and her wrinkled old nutcracker face screwed into a smile as I approached. The black cat came out from under her skirts and glowered at me.

"Come in," she said, and I followed her.

Some logs were burning in the fireplace and the pungent smell of herbs seemed stronger than it had on that previous occasion.

"So you be all alone today, Miss," she said with a smirk. "I hope I see you well."

"Yes, thank you, and I