Penmarric by Howatch Susan

Author:Howatch, Susan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: New York : Fawcett Crest
Published: 1971-11-12T05:00:00+00:00

there were always people who enjoyed reminding themselves and others of her origins. My father was one of those people. He stressed to the judge that he wanted his children to be brought up by a "lady" in a "gentleman's household," and the judge, who came from the same class as my father, naturally agreed that this was of vital importance. My father's mistress was judged a lady and the estate in Oxfordshire where he kept her in luxury was recognized to be a gentleman's household. Class meant everything; immorality, so long as it was conducted in a discreet and civilized manner, could be overlooked; my mother didn't have a chance.

It would be easy to say I loathed my father's mistress Rose Parrish and her two sons, my half-brothers William and Adrian, but it wouldn't be entirely true. I did loathe Adrian certainly; he was the most pugnacious little bastard anyone could ever wish to meet and he was all the more dangerous because he looked like a cherub and was capable of the most sickening displays of piety whenever he wanted to impress his parents. I can still remember him kneeling by his bed and reciting devoutly, "God bless all the poor and suffering" while his mother watched with pride. But as soon as she was gone the prayers would be forgotten and he would be fighting me as soon as he had the chance. Why he had such an overwhelming urge to fight me I have no idea. He had so much and I had so little, only my memories of my mother and Cornwall, only my determination that as soon as I was sixteen I would leave the house at Allengate and never spend another night beneath my father's roof again. But Adrian was determined to be enemies with me and so enemies we remained throughout all the seven years I spent in that abominable house. William I could tolerate; he never bothered me and spent most of the time with my brother Marcus. And Rose Parrish?

She was like a good nanny. At first I was rude to her and sullen and disagreeable as well, but how can you keep on being rude to someone who simply turns the other cheek? She was a good, decent, honest person whom my father had dragged through the mud. Therel I needn't have said that, need I? But it's the truth, and if there's one thing I despise it's a man who twists the truth to suit his own ends.

However, I don't want to dwell on the unhappy memories of my childhood. They're over now and best forgotten. There's only one other person I want to mention in connection with my early years, and that's my grandmother.

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