The Cornish Widow by Jacqueline Beard

Author:Jacqueline Beard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Mystery Book, Cornwall Fiction, 1920s Cozy Mystery Series, Supernatural Murder Mystery Thriller, Golden Age Time Slip Mystery, English Female Protagonist, Psychic Suspense, Occult mysteries
Publisher: Jacqueline Beard
Published: 2021-06-10T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Travels to Plymouth

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 1930

Oliver Fox has gone away, and with him, nearby counsel should the need arise. His departure was the first thing I thought of when I woke earlier today, and he was still on my mind while I was packing. I feel his loss acutely and wish I had spent more time getting to know him.

Isla Tremayne will arrive soon, and we will depart for Plymouth. I should be excited. I have waited most of my adult life for an opportunity like this, but I can't forget Felix Crossley and the horrors of that night are clouding my thoughts. I don't know what draws me to him and why our paths keep crossing. Neither does Oliver Fox, who tried, but failed, to conceal his concern for me when I told him. He has asked me to stay in touch, and I will, although it will be harder without Dolly. I cannot imagine the Templeton woman affording me the same kindness if I ask to borrow the hotel telephone.

I look in the mirror again and smudge my eyeliner a little more, trying to make it fade until it isn't so obvious. Dressed in my new clothes and footwear, I don't look like me, and I don't feel right either. It's almost as if I have aged by a decade. I am nervous and unsettled, and far from being keen to leave, I'm unexpectedly worried about being away from my usual surroundings. Mrs Ponsonby has noticed my subdued demeanour. She keeps asking if I am well and evidently suspects I am sickening for something. It would be the easiest thing in the world to give in and stay, easing her mind as well as mine. But I would regret it in a few days when I am feeling better. And what protection can she or anyone else offer from something that isn't physical? Besides, I can't tell anyone other than Fox. They would think I was losing my mind. If I betray my secret, I might end up with Gregory Carmichael in Coney Hill, and I shudder at the thought.

"They're here," says Elys, running in from the parlour. "How exciting. You'll have a lovely time, Connie."

I turn and muster an unenthusiastic smile.

"Cheer up," she says. "I'm fed up seeing all these long faces."

"Hmmm?"

"Mrs Ponsonby looks like she's dropped a shilling and found a penny. You're a pair of worrywarts."

I heave a sigh and walk towards the parlour window. Peter is coming up the pathway with Mrs Tremayne and suddenly my spirits soar. Everything seems so much brighter at the sight of an old and trusted friend. I grin and wave.

"I'm going to Plymouth," I beam. "I'm really going away."

"About time," says Elys, bustling towards the door.

Peter bounds inside. "Where are your bags?" he asks, and I point to the suitcase beside the dining room table.

"Good. You're travelling light. There's not much space. I suppose I should have mentioned it before you packed."

I open my mouth to reply, but he has grabbed my case and is halfway back to the car.

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