A flock of girls chattered by, attracted by the ribbons and laces stalls, of which there were many. They looked across to them and chattered and giggled like hens.
"My sisters," Dick told them as they all watched the girls pass by, "Emma, Penelope, Kitty, Hebe and Matilda." He picked them out, all looked like him, broad faced dark eyed, but one, who was fair haired like the other five girls just behind them. "And they are my cousins, my mother and their mother are sisters in law."
"And your uncle?" asked Davies.
"He died, shortly after Ruth was born."
"I know them," Humphry said, suddenly, "My sisters had the same governess as Ruth Teague. So your cousin's are: Faith, Hope, Joan, Patience, Ruth." Dick nodded, and then nodded to his cousins. The youngest was pointing over to Jemima and whispering something to the sister next to her.
"Would you wish to be introduced?" Dick asked, suddenly.
"Only if you wish it," Jemima told him. "Or we could go to look at Murdoch's steam carriage."
They all turned at that and, beside the head hear of Ishmaels mine, the steam carriage that Jemima had driven a few nights before. In the autumn sunlight it looked magnificent, wooden carriage top with brass and iron cogs, like a big clock.
At the back, the coal tender eating shovel-fuls of the black diamonds. The steam valve was attached to an overhead leaver, which in turn was attached to another that was attacked to the cogs. These were attached by further axles that powered the wheels.
Murdoch was offering rides at the front, where a bench had been placed, and they were about to go over when Thomas hissed, "Gregory! Your father!"
And it was. James Watt had stopped the carriage and was speaking sharply to William Murdoch, his frame moving sharply as he spoke.
"Hold up, Murdoch!" called another man and, beside Watt, Josiah Wedgwood stood beside him. Thomas's father looked as if he were trying to stop Gregory's father killing William Murdoch - he had the man by the lapels now and was shouting something at him, though what, none could hear because of the direction of the wind.
Behind them, another group of young men stood, both miners from Illogan, both not quite sober, having indulged in ale and cider already and it wasn't even eleven o'clock. One, the taller of the two and skinnier with greasy brown hair pointed to Jemima, standing between Davies and Dick.
"You know that girl?" he hissed. The other, shorter, round of face and fair hair shook his head.
"I bet I can get her on her own. Hey," he hissed. "Hey! Lady!"
Jemima turned, glad to not be looking at the conflict between the two engineers.
"Come here, I have something you would like to see."
Jemima took a few steps from Trevithick, then gasped as the other took her arm.
"Hey! I said I would get her!" the first man protested and Jemima tried to wrestle from the man's grip.
She kicked out, but the second man locked her foot and tried to force her hand inside his breeches. Jemima pulled away and shouted for them to let go.
Trevithick and Gregory got there first, as the man, still holding her arm leered at them.
"She is with us," Gregory warned.
"I bet she is!" the fair haired man retorted. Dick kicked his wrist and he let Jemima go.
"You all right, Jemima?" Thomas Wedgwood was beside her now, putting out a hand to help her up.
"All right," she nodded, as Davies put a hand on her back. They looked at them. Gregory had the dark haired man in a headlock and the fair haired man who had attacked Jemima had been taken by the shoulder.
He gripped the man tightly. "I do say - he began, and punched him in the face to the rhythm of his words ,- she - is - with - us !"
The man tumbled to the ground and backed away. The other man helped him up. Dick Trevithick made to go after them.
"'s not wrestling time yet, Dick," Edward told him with a laugh in his voice, hoping to lighten the mood a hand firmly on his arm.
"They're from Illogan," a voice came from beside them. It was Drake Carne again, and he watched the men leave and break into a bawdy song, gesturing in time with it so that Jemima could hear. "I come from there," Drake added. "Why do you think I like to live here!"
"You fought them, Jemima! You were fighting them!" Thomas Wedgwood's eyes were wide.
"Yes," Jemima replied. "There was no talking to them, was there?"
"Oh, I say!" Davies told them, as they left the still ongoing argument between Murdoch and Watt and went across to where many chapmen and itinerant pedlars were selling things made of twisted iron, and earthenware bowls, plates and cups and bowls of blackberries. He slipped his arm in Jemima's for a moment and leaned to her ear, "Everything well?"
"Yes," nodded Jemima. "Please don't tell my father," she added. Davies squeezed her arm and smiled. "Do you think we don't all want you out in our company again, Jemima?" he asked, before squeezing her arm again, then letting go and examining the blackberries.
"Were they picked before Sunday?" asked a woman, dark blue hat and dress to match. The little woman selling the berries nodded.
"Good, because they would be spur otherwise - don't you know of the legend, brother? Of the devil?"
"Pissing on all them you mean?"
"They're sour because of the acid levels in them changing because of the season," Humphry hissed to Jemima.
"They don't seem to know that, do they?" she laughed, but then curtailed it because Davies gave a cry of welcome.
"This is Mr. Henry Harvey," he introduced. The tall, fair-haired man nodded. Jemima had heard of Mr. Harvey - something to do with boat building, and Henry was looking to follow. "Miss Jane, his sister," The snooty girl who had questioned the blackberries also nodded,"Henry Blewett you know," Davies told Humphry.
"My guardian knows your brother; he was co-investor at Wheal Leisure." And both Henrys began to talk to Dick about the engine, and Humphry about mining.
"You told me to avoid Dick Trevithick at all costs in your letter," Jemima whispered to Davies, partly because she'd been meaning to ask him, but partly because she didn't want the woman to talk to her. After the scuffle her brain wasn't in the right place to remember to be a lady.
"Oh, I did think so," Davies told her, "From his time at school, lazy, opinionated, spoiled." He glanced to Dick as he pointed out the engine, "But I am delighted to say I am completely disabused of that opinion, having been writing to him for the last eighteen months about the engine - he never told me his name, he wanted my advice, as a lawyer and a Cornishman about the engine. I came down here yesterday morning before the service St Erth's and looked over the engine with him, not knowing that he was the same man who, as a boy would gaze at a piece of paper and write nothing, or had brought in something crawly from the gardens and let it go in the classroom."
The rest of them were listening to Dick now, except for the young lady, not much older than Jemima, she surmised, who had been waiting to put into the conversation and who had been getting rather annoyed about waiting.
As soon as Davies had stopped speaking, Jane Harvey looked to Jemima.
"Are you enjoying visiting Cornwall, Miss Withering?" Her voice was soft, tinged with sourness.
"I am a native of Cornwall, Mistress…"
"Miss!" She corrected Jemima, then looked about her. "All these people, I do wonder, they must save up all year for this."
"They do,"'Jemima told her. "The wakes are all over the country, and it is not seemly for anyone not to be generous, not to be hospitable. Even now, my friend Davies's family is hosting the renowned James Watt - is that not right, Gregory?". Gregory Watt turned from the detailed conversation about pressure vessels.
"Indeed, Miss Withering," Gregory smiled.
"…and Mr Wedgwood - " she nodded across to them. "Queensware is your father's new line, is it not, Thomas?"
"Yes, Jemima," Thomas Wedgwood agreed, enthusiastically. "And the prohibition of slavery!"
"I still wonder why Sir Francis don't stop these wakes," Miss Harvey added, moodily.
"Stop them? Does he want a riot in his hands?" Jemima replied, then added in her head, "And just why are you here if you disapprove so, Miss Harvey?
"Oh yes, Sir Francis," Edward joined in, half listening to the conversation "Sir Francis has ten Wassail cups that were used this morning with his tenants. Since the pruritans decided such cups were Popery, he changed when they to be used."
By now, others girls had floated over, relatives of Dick Trevithick.
"Introduce us, Dick," begged the younger sister, Matilda, who looked at Jemima and added, "Would you come with us, Miss, we are to look at ten silks and satins?"
"I do thank you," Jemima replied, "But I am not that particular in fabrics and dresses."
"The hatters, then?" Matilda Trevithick pressed. "All the way from London?"
"Will you go away," Dick told them in a bored voice. Miss Withering is with me, and we are looking at the machinery.". He glanced past his younger sister and they lit on the face of Jane Harvey.
"Will perhaps Miss Harvey go with you? She saw Dick move his head.
"Doesn't she talk strangely! Doesn't like dresses and silks?" Matilda said to one of her sisters.
"You don't, really, do you?" Davies chipped in. He was next to Humphry, who was examining herbs and spikes on a stall beside them. Jemima thought she must thank Enys for those he had brought for her: after the one day, which Dick had helped her with, it had stemmed off. Jemima was looking forward to seeing what happened next month.
"I thank your mother for trying to teach me cooking," she told Thomas, "I can just about manage that."
"What will you do when you marry? She turned to look at the face of Henry Harvey's sister. She was still there having not, apparently, gone off with Dick's sister to inspect ribbons.
"Miss Harvey?". Jemima was too impatient for this gaggling of sisters to finish.
"Well you need some skill."
"Why would I?" Jemima replied. "I work, I earn my own living."
"A gentlewoman, who works?" Jane Harvey asked, aghast.
"It would seem so," Jemima replied. "But when you marry, your husband will work and you will have a house to keep. And, you will be wholly dependent on him.". Jemima shook her head. "I have no plans to marry, Miss Harvey, so I will have no need to worry about fine dressing. Especially in my work."
"Which is mining?" Heaven help her, why wouldn't this woman go away? Jemima thought.
"Mining, engineering, manufacturing. I can read, write, carry out arithmetic, calculus…I am as able as any man."
"She is," Dick told her. "We could not have made the engine without her."
"And you spoke so wonderfully, so persuasive," Blewett said, "I was waiting for my brother, you were…spellbinding, Had Captain Poldark not arrived then, I swear Wheal Leisure would be pulling out its copper by now."
That did it. Her friends had extolled her skills, and they were equal in their eyes to ribbons and lace, their opinion was all that mattered to Jemima.
"Charmed to meet you, Miss - "
"Withering," Jemima told her. She was swept up by the ribbon-hunting flock of girls and young ladies, who bid noisy parting greetings to their brother.
A noise a little way off, of animals in torment sounded like the bull baiting had started and was grateful when Gregory told her, "We are going to watch the wrestling, will you come?"
"Yes," agreed Jemima. Already, Dick Trevithick had begun to walk to the field where he had watched some of the wrestlers that morning.
"Time to join in yet?" Edward asked, as Dick surveyed the men in the field.
"Who will join in?" he asked.
"I will," Gregory told him.
"I will," said Humphry.
"You won't!" Davies laughed. "You're too young yet - " but broke off as Dick Trevithick marched onto the field.