Boxing Day 26th December 1790, links to S2E2-4
The morning after Christmas Day dawned cold and crisp and to the sound of thumping from the kitchen below.
Not yet sunrise, Jemima roused herself from her cosy dream of the evening before, dressed in her wakes dress and descended to find Mrs Vaughn and Humphry Davy filling up baskets and boxes to be taken to St. Teilio's for distribution to the poor.
Humphry told Jemima everything of his stay with his mother, his eldest sister arriving with her family for the day, the excitement of the twins who were both to be wed in the spring.
"And Mr. Dunkin even came to church with us - mother said it was a Christmas miracle - and he spoke very highly of you, and how you spoke to the Leisure shareholders. It is a pity Captain Poldark did not listen, for he might not have sunk to debt and been imprisoned as a bankrupt."
"And what is he doing now?"
"Has begun a boat holding venture with Mr. Blewett and Mr. Harvey of Hayle. Won't touch mining again, he says."
"That's a pity," Jemima told him. "If only I had been born a man then Poldark may have listened and a some of people's lives might have been changed to the good."
Humphry stopped packing the bread folds onto his basket and looked at Jemima, at a rare loss as to what to say. But he soon found something.
"There's going to be something for you soon, Jemima, something in mining, he said to to tell you."
"Mr. Dunkin said that?" Jemima shook her head as she passed Humphry the pies. "I would manage my own mine. Did he say what?" Humphry shook his head.
John Withering bade them goodbye as they walked out and told Jemima to not get muddy. But after they had given the food to Mrs. Giddy, they went looking for animals, Dick taking pot shots at rabbits that had dared to brave the cold, with the rifle Dunkin had given to him for Christmas.
"He is doing well, with his business now, with the need for small boats for the Navy."
"Better them than I," Jemima shivered at the thought of the open water. Humphry placed a brotherly hand on her shoulder.
"You still disdain the sea, after all this time?". He smiled empathetically to his friend.
"I manage, when I must."
"And your father says he will let me some of his patients - Mr. Dunkin is pleased." He offered Jemima the gun, and she made a good shot at a hare, though it got away.
"And Mr. Dunkin is pleased you got your place at the Royal Institution under Dr Young?" Humphry nodded.
"He will be," Humphry told her. "For I have made progress in medicine, in pain relief." And, as they walked back to Meadowsweet, Humphry told her of his experiment with gas of azote.
"I tested it on myself first!" he concluded, to Jemima's disbelief. "Only I inhaled too much of it and Beddoes had to take me outside to breathe! And then Beddoes' friends got drunk and allowed me to test it on them, too…"
He went on to explain that he was to be an apothecary at Bingham Borlase in Penzance and would help Jemina's father with his patients, and it occurred then to Jemima that she may well have found a friend who could source the herbs she needed to eliminate her monthly occurrences when Enys's supplies ran out.
Which meant she wouldn't have to speak to that man again on such matters.
Humphry was invited to the ball in his own right and was bringing one of Davies' sisters, Philippa.
"Mr. Giddy still allows me to use his library, like he do when I was younger," Humphry enthused, his dialect, which he had spent time training himself out of coming back.
"And Mrs. Giddy mentioned Philippa had yet to find an escort…oh, it will be good to see everyone in their finest, it has been so long since the wakes…and, do you know, since Beddoes was taken as a Jacobin…he has embraced it! His friends, Coleridge, Wordsworth, Southey, travelled to Bristol from Cumberland…they are the ones who got intoxicated for my experiment…we have had dinner together, with Davies of course, and got on famously…you know Davies aspires to be High Sheriff in Penzance? He is coming back in the spring…"
And the two friends, Humphry talking, Jemima listening, walked back arm in arm, as they used to do when they were younger, wondering about who would be attending with whom and what the party would be like.
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The dress was beautiful, and Jemima had to admit her father had exquisite taste. Dark raspberry, it was cut to the most up to date style, tapering to the waist with a full skirt, bereft of too much ornament, the silk it was made of being the focus.
Mrs Vaughn did her hair, washing it as soon as Jemima got in from her walk with Humphry and wrapping rags into it while it air dried, working with the natural curl of Jemima's hair. "Don't leave the kitchen until it's dried," the housekeeper insisted.
Which meant a couple of hours sitting at the kitchen table with a book, thinking again over the mine issue, and whether she should suggest to someone - George Warleggan probably - that they should go horizontally to reach the rest of the copper lode.
"You look pretty," Humphry told her, after she had dressed and had her hair fussed over by the housekeeper. He watched as she played with her necklace in her fingers - the Bluejohn sparkled in the bright winter sunlight.
"Thank you," she said politely, "And you look "'an'sum.""
"Do I?" her friend asked, beaming. In that he had washed and was wearing new clothes, yes. He was still Humphry, like a little brother to her, comfortable in each other's company, sharing similar interests and past adventures.
"Yes,"Jemima agreed. "Miss Giddy will be pleased for you to escort her."
"Her father's sending a carriage.". Which arrived a few minutes' later and departed quickly west, to St. Erth, to get the younger sister of Davies, for them to have a most enjoyable evening.
I must remember to write to Davies, Jemima thought, as Humphry's words about Davies wanting to become High Sheriff were recalled in her mind. And "remember" became "act", as Jemima waited for her own escort, telling him she was thrilled he would be returning, and of his ambition. Oxford, lawyer and now local government.
When the coach clicked over the cobbles, Jemima got up from the chair in the sitting room. Her father, reading a medical book and writing at his desk, raised his head.
"You look beautiful," he told her and Jemima bent her head to kiss her father.
"I wish you were coming," she told her father.
"It's an event for the young; I am no longer young." John Withering smiled, weakly. And, all of a sudden, he looked old, much older than his years. But, only for a minute, and Dr. Withering's intelligent, wise face returned. Jemima would remember that moment, in a future not far from now, when Poldark found her and told her the news that would change her life forever.
"Make sure you do dance with Mr. Warleggan, as he is escorting you, before you find Dick and Edward."
"No, Edward has gone, he will be up in Coalbrookdale this week, working with Mr. Darby." Jemima told him, and John Withering waved a hand towards her in acknowledgement.
"Tell me everything, tell me all that occurs. I will come to the next one, I promise." He clasped her hands in his for a moment and Jemima kissed his cheek. "Go now, don't keep the young man waiting."
For a knock had come to the door, and Mrs Vaughn had opened it. Indistinct words were being exchanged and she would be showing George Warleggan to the drawing room, down the hallway. Jemima waited for the door to close, and she stepped out of the sitting room, her father nodding as she left.
It seemed strange that Mr. Warleggan was standing there, waiting for her, bowing his head and extending her hand. Perhaps Jemima was still expecting the joke, that her father had been teasing and Dick Trevithick would be standing there.
Instead, it was Warleggan, stiff in what looked to be new clothes, dark orange coat and breeches, silk shirt, silk stockings, black patent shoes.
He was the image of respectability and wealth, and was playing the part of a gentleman to perfection. How different was this to March, when she had gone to Trentham with the Wedgwoods in a borrowed dress, with Thomas and his sister altogether, and had been allowed to talk to whom she liked, including Brindley and William Smith, the geologist and mining surveyor.
"Well, Miss Withering, I hardly recognised you, used so I am to your work clothes," Warleggan told her, and held out a hand. "You are breathtaking."
"And yourself, Mr. Warleggan," Jemima replied, politely. "A gentleman in gentleman's attire."
George Warleggan smiled, and they left Meadowsweet, talking lightly of the evening, and Wheal Leisure and the pumping engine.
"A pump would not be needed yet, until the stratum gets down to the fortieth, that is my opinion. Unless the land has changed much since I left," Jemima told him, when Warleggan asked of the Cornish engine.
"Of Grambler, I could not see, for I have never been inside her."
"Would you like to?"
"I would like to," Jemima replied, her eyes brightening with hope. "It would help us estimate what is in Leisure…but I have broken with Poldark. Now the Cornish engine is finished, we are busy fitting them to many customers."
"Miss Withering…?". The coach travelled now, in the darkness through the rising of a hail storm. Jemima turned to look at him. "I only thought you wished to say something more."
And she did, and she asked George Warleggan to keep what she told him to himself.
"I have been successful with Master Trevithick, and I have had the privilege and pride to be able to stand beside mine captains and owners knowing the pumps were are fitting will remove water faster and with far less coal than the pumps they had before. But I was grieved to leave Leisure."
"You had no choice, I can see that."
"Because I am a woman, Mr. Warleggan," she told him. "I know I speak plainly."
"I value it," George encouraged. Jemima smiled in the darkness.
"Since the moment Dr. Withering's wife took me from the fate of being buried beside my mother, and they took me as their own daughter, I have been privileged, spoiled some might say, to be afforded such opportunities as to read, write, be educated. Be allowed to apply my mind where I wished. But herein lies the problem. Because the facts came from my mouth, that of a woman, Poldark doubted my evidence. He refused to back my plan, and I am convinced that, as a man, he wouldn't've."
There was silence for a moment, and George Warleggan moved back from Jemima. If she were to think it was he was disdaining her, she was about to be shown wrong, for the man took Jemina's hands, and she turned to him.
"It is not you, Miss Withering, it is that man. I am no woman, and I had the misfortune to be schooled beside him. I offered him many opportunities to improve his station, and at every turn he thwarted my offers, he and his cousin.". In the moonlight Jemima saw him shake his head.
"So many people would be richer now, really wealthy…you heard my evidence, sir."
"And there has been more to agree with what you said," Warleggan told her. "Henry Bettys, of Grambler, is now mine captain at Leisure and he believes that your estimates are correct. He too has seen for himself the start of the lode that you yourself identified two years ago."
"Truly?". Jemima felt her heart soar.
"What reason, other than evidence, would I have or say this, otherwise? Miss Withering, what would compel you to break with Bassett and work at Leisure?"
At this question, Jemima withdrew her hands slowly.
"My faith compels me not to be prideful," Jemima told him. "But if I was unopposed, and my word was trusted…I am trusted without excaeption at the Ting Tongs, at Dolcoath."
"Despite Mr. Watt's threat of legal action?". Jemima turned her head.
"I have known Mr. Watt all my life. I believe he truly believes that he is right. He holds the patent. The mine owners have bought the engines. But the question a magistrate must decide is, if a person were to take apart and rebuild such an engine, should they be billed again by Mr. Watt as a patent infringement? You are a magistrate, Mr. Warleggan, what do you think?"
Warleggan waited for a moment, but only a moment, and smiled to Jemima.
"I am not, not yet a magistrate. I should like to hear more detail should I have to decide. But based on what I hear, and what you say, which are the same thing, if something is bought, the owner should not owe anything to the seller and can do whatever they wish with their goods."
"You know a good many people, Miss Withering." George Warleggan nodded his head, and then added, "I don't think you prideful, I think you're rightly annoyed that your perfectly logical scheme was blocked for no earthly reason whatever. And as such, there is something I wish to ask you."
"Oh?" Jemima enquired.
"Later," he told her, as the carriage drew slower on the road, the lights of Sir Francis's home before them.
And Jemima Withering took the hand of George Warleggan, who escorted her into the bright hallway of Tehidy House.
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If not all of Cornwall, Sir Francis seemed to have invited the majority. Men is frock coats and ladies in fine dresses circulated about. Jemima supposed she should circulate too.
"You have been to a party such as this?" George asked her.
"Not like this, as an escorted young woman. We - that is the children of the men my father knows, would circulate together, then go off to our own amusement or talk to whomever we wished.". She looked around. "I do know how to be, Mr Warleggan," Jemima added.
George Warleggan smiled and nodded. "It may not be the same here in Cornwall. I will…engage you with the first and last dances, introduce you to someone just now, and you may then take your time to mingle - I expect you know a good many people."
He nodded, and took Jemima's hand, leading her across to Sir Francis. Beside him, Miss Frances Bassett sat. Jemima nodded and Sir Francis greeted them stiffly.
"Once I have opened with Mr. Warleggan, I can come over to talk,' Jemima told the girl, who nodded. It was expected, of course, and Miss Frances nodded back.
"Wasn't I to have a mine, father?" she asked as Jemima moved away. "I fancy Ishmaels to myself, and that young woman to captain it."
Jemima glanced over her shoulder to see Sir Francis bending to his daughter and talking to her. Perhaps they sensed her uneasiness at being at the Ting no definite future. Should Miss Bassett ask her, Jemima would not hesitate to say yes.
"Miss Withering, you know the Reverend Halse?"
"I am acquainted with your father, dear girl," Edmund Halse exclaimed.
"Reverend Halse is a magistrate - pray, Miss Withering has a question about a possible impending order, is that not right?"
"Yes," Jemima agreed. "I am sure you have heard of it? Mr. Watt?". George Warleggan moved off towards Ray Penvenen as Halse began to speak to Jemima and the conversation turned from the thorny topic of patent litigation which could, ultimately, come to Lord Bassett's door and to mining and the Wedgwoods, for he had an interest in the china clay mines, from which Josiah Wedgwood bought the raw material for his plates.
"Mrs. Halse will not use anything else," he told Jemima. "It's Queensware or nothing, in our house. And to know the clay comes just east of us, at Luxulyan. Do you perhaps know William Cookworthy…?"
"...perhaps my father does…"
"...and Henry Bone? He has interest too…"
And so on, until the topics of china clay, Methodism " - you do not drink, Miss Withering…?" and the potentially dangerous situation over the Channel had been exhausted.
"I cannot say anything either way," Jemima told Reverend Halse, "But there surely has to be something for people to eat? Surely everyone deserves their daily bread?"
"Ha! Spoken like a Jacobin. If you were a man, Miss Withering, I would call you out! Ha! Yet I know you to be a very clever woman indeed and have managed to make the Cornish engine with Trevithick, and proved all of Sir Francis's mines of their ore - you knew what was there, girl. How'd'ye do it?"
"Oh..well…"
…and so on, through stratification and her time back in the Midlands and William Smith.
"...can one not be anyone and observe something of nature?" Jemima asked of him. "Nature would reveal her secrets to anyone."
"Nature would reveal her secrets to God, and to men who are righteous and deserving. Now, I would agree with your friend Davies, that it is a waste to educate all men, because it will leave them dissatisfied…"
So Jemima discovered that she was growing to dislike her father's friend, Halse, and also that Davies must be well enough known to Halse that he knew of his plans. But, he would know Edward Giddy, of course.
"But you are the exception, my dear, for you are Cornish, not Midlander, though you may talk as one of them…did you not know it was I who baptised you, my dear, into the Anglican church?..."
"...knew you my parents, then?" Jemima was compelled to ask." Reverend Halse gave a small smile.
"For my part, no. I was just glad not to have been burying one of God's creatures alive, as you were. No, only three people in the world knew, your father and mother, of course, Dr. and Mrs. Withering, and Edward Giddy. Your father went to see your birth father, of course, but he was stricken with the loss of his wife…". Halse patted her arm. "You are as Cornish as I am, Miss Withering, dear, and I expect you are glad to be so."
It's what Jemima knew already, and she hadn't expected to hear this that night. She glanced across to George Warleggan as music began to play.
"Miss Withering," Warleggan said, when he approached her. "The gavotte?"
They danced, moving backwards and forwards, gentlemen in a line facing the ladies, and Jemima was taken back to a dance when she was very young, where she and Gregory Watt and Thomas Wedgwood, who was even younger than Jemima, had snuck out of bed and were watching through the railings of the minstrel gallery as their parents and friends danced.
George moved lightly, his feet soft, his frame high. A great teacher had taught him, and Jemima felt the effort was rather wasted on her, especially when she caught the eye of Dick Trevithick.
They were to open with the first and close with the last, and already George Warleggan was glancing beyond Jemima to more men with whom he wanted to speak.
Dick smiled back, and Jemima wondered if his half dozen sisters and cousins were there, and she looked down the line: some faces she recognised as being in the group that Dick had pointed out and - joy - across from her was Humphry, smiling gaily towards Philippa Giddy.
Once the music came to an end, and George Warleggan had bowed to her and she had nodded to him, they turned as Sir Francis stood by the door of the hall. Supported on a crutch was his daughter, who was dressed exquisitely in dark blue that went with her long, chestnut hair. She resembled her father in her facial features, rectangular face, sharp, inquisitive nose, small eyes which were taking in everything.
All were waiting for Sir Francis to speak and he waited until he had silence, and beamed a smile to them.
"Friends, I thank you for brightening this cold, snowy evening with your presence. This year has been a happy one, not least with healthy profits from our mines, but for the hard work and great success of our pumping engine."
He glanced over to where Dick Trevithick, who had not danced, standing by his father, was stood and nodded.
"Had it not been for the expert skill and ingenuity of three young people, the Ting Tongs would not now be renowned for the Cornish pump. I speak, of course, of Dolcoath's own Master Dick Trevithick - " applause filled the air and Sir Francis gestured Dick over.
At first he didn't seem to Jemima that Dick would go over to the man, but inducement came with a not small shove into the small of his son's back by Trevithick senior. Francis Bassett stuck out an arm in gesture. Stone faced, Dick stood reluctantly beside his patron.
"And Edward Bull who - " Bassett paused, " - is not with us presently.". His eyes searched the room and then landed on Jemima. "Miss Withering, too.". He beckoned Jemima, who stood beside Dick, who smiled and nodded.
"Without these three young engineers, we would not have the success of pumping engine that we do. My thanks to everyone who works for me, for all that you have done. And," Sir Francis paused, looking to Dick, "Our new venture, the steam locomotive engine."
Applause filled Tehidy's hall, and Bassett encouraged everyone to enjoy themselves. Dick, who was still standing.
Jemima, however, had a strange feeling of guilt as Sue Francis mentioned the locomotive and felt it was only right that William Murdoch should be with them too. But he was up in the Edward Bull, the pressure from Watt on their future at the Boulton and Watt company too stretched to risk staying in Cornwall.
Was that it? Did she feel her latent loyalty to her father's friend conflicted with her investment in Dixk's steam locomotives?
Well, it could not be helped. And, as the guests began to mingle, Dick turned to Jemima and smiled.
"I didn't want to come. I do dislike all of this."
"Did you bring anyone?" Jemima asked. Dick nodded to where Philippa and Humphry were standing. One of Dick's dark haired sisters was talking to her.
"Emma. She'll be off talking…gowns and such with Davies' sister, and our cousins.". He nodded to the Teague girls, the one being married still not able to drag herself away from her sisters while her husband, John Trevaunance, was busily chatting to George Warleggan.
"Have you met Henry Harvey?" Dick asked suddenly. Jemina's heart sank when she saw the boat builder talking to his sister Jane. She had - Henry had been over to Dolcoath before Dick and Edward had been over to fit the Cornish engine, and Jemima had felt pleased she had been spared the interrogation from the sister.
Before she could object, however, Harvey had trodden a path to them
"Good evening, Miss Withering.". Henry, a fair haired man nodded and Jemima replied. She listened as Dick talked about the different solutions for removing barnacles and then about the engine, a subject Jemima was more interested in listening to.
They had saved half of their running costs so far, so efficient the engine had been, which had boosted their business no end.
"And in the Midlands…mineowners," Harvey continued, "They could avail themselves of such a machine?"
"Perhaps," Jemima replied, not knowing how to correct the man of his ignorance. "A more efficient machine would be good to hear in the ears of any mine owner. Mr. Watt, however, has the monopoly, and coal is acquired with his pumping engine."
Dick nodded, then bent his head to Harvey, "Until the patent runs out, then any manner of steam engines can be made. Why, you may even have yourself a steam ship, think of that, my friend?"
"Would you like to dance, Miss Withering?" Henry Harvey asked. And he partnered her in the allemande, catching her eye every so often and asked her about Cornwall and her time in the Midlands.
Who would have guessed Jemima's future there? Would she come back to that moment and change it if she could, Jemima would since wonder. But she supposed she would always have parted from Dick and taken Henry's hand. Not too far away Dick was dancing with Jane, Henry's sister.
"Of course you aren't not Cornish yourself," the boatbuilder told Jemima. Jemima felt herself bridling at the assertion.
"And why do you say that, sir?" Jemima replied. Henry Harvey's face fell. Then brightened.
"You do not know the Cornish way of swimming in the sea at New Year, nor leaving out a shoe. And your manner of speech…". The dance wove to a close.
"A singularly bright and tuneful cadence, to my ear." Henry Harvey looked past Jemima to the interjector. George Warleggan smiled and nodded to Jemima when she turned too. He held out a hand.
"It is not yet the end of the evening - forgive me, Mr. Harvey - " Warleggan stuck out a hand, "But your beauty surpasses all in this room and I could not forgive myself if I did not ask for your hand for (dance?)
"My thanks, Mr. Harvey," Jemima nodded, grateful to the bone that Warleggan had intervened. Henry Harvey nodded too, though seemed reluctant to leave her side.
"I saw you talking to Mr. Halse," Warleggan told them, as they stepped the dance."
"Why yes," Jemima told him. "I was talking to him and he told me that he baptised me. I asked him of my parents, my birth parents. But he knows not who they were.". George Warleggan smiled and took her hand for the promenade.
"You mentioned that to me earlier in the carriage. Would you like to know? Only, I know several people who might be able to find out.". But Jemima shook her head. They turned back and joined hands once more.
"Really, sir, that is most kind. And would I seek to, I would be most grateful to avail you of that offer. But, no. It is enough to know I am of this fair, tempestuous land, although there are parts I find most strange. I have the comfort of my friends who I knew. And should my father wish to tell me, he will, in good time."
"And if you are of lowly stock…" George needled, as they loosed hands and then rejoined after they had past the next couple coming up the other way.
"I am of lowly stock, my father is a doctor and my grandfather was a wool merchant.". Loose…join…
"But your Cornish parents…?" Loose…join…take hands…
"...were dining with Edward Giddy, and my father and mother, at Tredrea.". They stepped back, now at the end of the line, parting for a second and then came back together.
"But then, you might be of an old Cornish family!" George concluded. Jemima laughed. The music stopped and they left the other couples, who were beginning a new dance and continued their conversation.
"If I were, what of it?" she told him. My life will be what I make. I have been afforded much my father had given freely to me, and education, freedom, opportunities to be with friends, to work in employment that I like. Besides, whoever they were, I wouldn't know them, and couldn't expect them to play family roles with me. No," Jemima finished, "My family is the Witherings, even if it's just my father and my uncle and myself now."
George took a port glass from a passing footman. "And something for Miss Withering." He looked back to her.
"What?"
"About families?" Jemima smiled again, and smiled as the footman brought through a kind of fruit juice. Sir Francis has thought of everything.
"When you say ancient, you just mean people who have lived in one place all their lives. There had to be a first one of them, like there had to be a first Withering and a first…who else here…Boscawen, Bodrugan, Trevelyan, Chynoweth…all of these are ancient family names. There had to be a first of the family, and before…who knows what they were.". She glanced across to Sir Francis. "Bassett?"
"No, he is first generation, from mining," George told her.
"And Warleggan? Would you tell me of yourself?". George Warleggan nodded, and stepped closer, his voice lower.
"My grandfather worked himself to death so my father, Nicholas, could go to school and then Oxford.". He inhaled. "My uncle, who you met at…our home, was not school educated, but apprenticed to an accountant and now works beside me.". Jemima nodded.
"None of this would be at all strange, or odd in the Midlands. Nearly every person my father knows is the first or second to his name, in power or steam, or mining, or iron. Oh I appreciate hierarchy, but even the Conqueror had to come from somewhere. There has to be a first. And what success do "old families" have if their success is measured by remaining in the same place for generations?". She glanced past George and smiled.
"So many old families here, what worth can they have if they don't adapt, innovate. Tell me," Jemima continued, looking around the room, what do you see, when you see your countrymen and women?"
"People who are bold and strong, and not afraid to innovate," George replied. "But Cornwall does not realise it is more than its own self - we reach beyond the Tamar, as you know. Look at Wild, for example. His family has mined tin for generations and, with Sir Francis's investment, particularly in the Watt engine, they have taken a dozen little mines and made them work as one, looking over the potential as a single entity and making business decisions as such. Wild - "
George nodded towards the man and his wife, who were talking to Mrs. Bassett, "Was able to put his own mine into a lot and benefits from the confederation. Enys," he continued, and Jemima saw him look across to the doctor, who turned them, and saw them both looking at him. He nodded to Jemima and glanced to George before eventually nodding to him.
"Enys, another example, trained as a doctor in London, is a member of the Royal College of Physicians, but returned here estranged from his father and brother at Hayle. It's as if his life is some sort of penury for a crime he has committed.". George moved his head to the door.
"There's Miss Caroline Penvenen, an heiress who spends a lot of her time in London, but frequents home with her uncle, with whom you conversed, Miss Withering, Mr. Ray Penvenen. Then - if you will excuse me," George Warleggan said to her. He glanced over to the window where Halse was standing talking to Henry Harvey.
But then broke off. Jemima's heart sank as she looked where Warleggan was looking: two people were announced at the door. Mistress Poldark's eyes were on Jemima's within a second, a smile followed.
"I was about to Harvey, about investing in his boats, however. May we chat a while about the Midlands? What manner of man is Mr. Watt?". Warleggan, too, had seen who had arrived and had suddenly decided to stay with her. Something Jemina was truly grateful for.
Jemima glanced away as Poldark stepped across the floor. He too was appraising the guests and Jemima began, "Oh yes, Mr. Watt. He is an engineer."
"Like yourself?"
"Like I would like to be," Jemima confided. Poldark was circulating the room and was now bending his head towards Ward. Mrs Ward began conversation with Demelza Poldark.
"He be of Scotland, and came to Boulton with designs for a steam pump and three shillings in his pocket. He had walked to Birmingham, sleeping in barns on the way. Now, he is the city's most influential businessmen."
She watched George Warleggan watch as Sir Francis approached Poldark. From the group, Miss Frances had nodded and was using the support of her governess to come over to them.
"Please, you said the first and last dances, and Mr. Harvey may well get all his investors if you are not prompt." Warleggan smiled, and nodded, as if Poldark's arrival compelled a protectiveness in him.
"So long as you are sure."
"I am sure that if Poldark comes to speak with me I will have a witness to my reply, none other than the host's father. Good evening Miss Bassett.". The last Jemima said to Frances Bassett, whose governess stood beside her.
"Come, sit with me," Frances Bassett asked Jemima. "You may leave us, Eleanora," she added. The woman nodded, and trod the floor to the servants' door.
"Your necklace is beautiful," Frances told Jemima, and Jemima reached for the clasp behind her neck and took it off. She handed it to Frances Bassett and the girl held it to the light.
"What stone be it - I mean, is it?"
"Bluejohn, from Derbyshire. My father bought shares in the mine. The owners at first were not bringing up much of the rock. But then, John Smith, the geologist, visited and explained his idea to them, and they dug where he suggested - a profitable lode was found.". The girl was holding Jemima's necklace towards the candlelight.
She then looked past the jewel and, handing it back to Jemima, continued, "You were talking very close to George Warleggan?"
"Mr. Warleggan was affording me an opportunity, I believe.".
"And your other necklace?". Jemima stopped in the process of trying to put the catch back together, then stopped. "This?" She brought out the heart shaped locket, and handed that to Frances, before glancing over to where Dick Trevithick was now dancing with one of his Teague cousins.
"A gift, from a friend."
"It feels heavier than silver, almost like gold," Francis told her, feeling the weight in her hand.
"He did tell me it was a different metal, but did not say what." In the light, the faint engraving played out, a small, tightly-looped filigree that traced the shape of the locket. Frances handed that back to her too.
"And what of your jewellery?" Jemima asked. But there was a delay in the girl answering and Jemima looked first to Frances's face and then to where she was looking.
"Captain Poldark, good evening.". Frances Bassett looked from Jemima, who felt her heart sink.
"Miss Bassett, Mias Withering…you were dancing with Mr. Warleggan, I noticed.". Jemima steeled herself and looked him in the eye.
"Surely, it is of no matter to you with whom I dance."
"Captain Poldark, we were talking," Frances added. Poldark gave a slow grin.
"I do apologise, Miss Bassett. I assumed you would like to talk to someone not about to be sent to court for patent infringement."
"If that were so, Captain Poldark, why have you a Cornish engine now installed at Wheal Grace?". His face was fixed still, but his stance changed. Jemima had him.
"Miss Withering, my wife still thanks for your cooking lesson."
"That was three months ago Captain Poldark.". And when she saw behind him Francis Poldark approaching them, she added, "Good evening," to both Ross Poldark and Frances Bassett.
She made towards where Dick was chatting to Humphry and Philippa, pausing to see George's expression as Mistress Elizabeth Poldark entered the room, stopping again as she noticed Dwight Enys, who also clearly had been invited approach to talk to the woman
But then, before she could get to where Dick and Humphry were laughing, Enys was beside her.
"Good evening, Miss Withering," he said to her. "I trust you had a good Christmas?"
"Yes," Jemima replied, factually. Nothing else was needed and she resisted polite detail.
"And you went to Wheal Leisure yesterday? Captain Henshawe was pleased the engine didn't have to stop for long."
"Yes." Her eye drifted to Miss Bassett, who was engaged in conversation with both Ross and Francis Poldark.
"May I just say, your disdain for Me Francis - "
"I have no disdain," Jemima interrupted, seeking to get out of the man's company. Why did he have to mention Will Henshawe? The evening and been going well up to then.
"Indifference then," Enys proposed. "He should not have attacked you. But, he is…different now. We went to Captain Poldark's trial…Mr. Francis was about to take his own life."
Jemima stopped in her search for escape, running Enys's words through her head again, and looked back to the doctor.
"And he is better now? He appeared to be when he came to speak to my father and I.". From his place beside his cousin at the far end of the room, Francis Poldark turned and nodded to Jemima when he caught her eye. He looked nervous, but happy. Jemima nodded back. What had gone on felt like like ancient history.
"Dr. Enys," Jemima said to him as the doctor made to go. "My thanks. He does seem happier than when I saw himself outside Grambler."
"But you will not console your mind to make it agreeable to Ross Poldark?". Shock faded to indignation and then anger as Jemima heard the words.
"Why should I, sir, when he - and you - have no trust in my word? Indeed, I am having more than a great deal of success with the steam pumping engine and in the mines of Sir Francis. Goodday.".
And took herself back to Miss Bassett, who was once again alone, Ross and Francis Poldark leaving her company and going back to Demelza and Elizabeth. It did not escape her notice that Warleggan was also as interested, watching the men in their traverse, and then speak to their wives.
Enys joined them, and Jemima felt vindicated. Had he crossed to her to speak for his friend? Make her feel as if she were in the wrong and should accept her own words to be false? That's where she had left it with Poldark and Enys.
"I am to take over my father's businesses, he having had no son," the girl told Jemima, who took both necklaces out of Jemima's unresisting fingered and fastened them back around Jemima's neck. "I am unable to leave the house without help, but I can think, I can know, I can learn. I will have my managers. Do you think my father spends a lot of time underground? No, Wild does the daily work."
"You don't need to convince me," Jemima told her. "My heart is in mining, in the recovery of the ore, how rock can yield its secrets and have them unpicked by flame and reaction."
"Rather like a lover," the girl replied. Jemima looked at her face. Why would she say such a strange thing? The girl seemed far too young to think about lovers, let alone lovers unpicking resistive secrets.
"So when you have my mines, will you work in them?" Frances asked her.
"When I have mine, will you manage them? Only, coal now, a tricky substance, if you are only used to tame tin and homely copper."
"I meet your challenge, for I will own mines, Miss Withering, and I should dearly like to see a coal mine."
"May I have this dance, Miss Withering?" came a familiar voice. Jemima looked away from Frances's merry, daring eyes into those of her friend. Before she could answer though, Frances's voice tinkled between them.
"Ah, Master Trevithick, I am absolutely convinced Miss Withering would love to dance with you."
Jemima nodded to Frances Bassett and allowed Dick to take her by the hand. The feeling that the girl's eyes were on her faded slowly as they got to the central part of the hall where the cotillion was beginning to be arranged. Humphry was standing beside Philippa and across from the Ruth Teague and her husband John Trevaunance. Beside Dick, and Jemima's heart began to sink, were Henry and Jane Harvey.
"I see you wear your locket," Dick told her, as they came together.
"I wear it. It is precious to me."
"As you are to me."
Jemima said nothing but smiled. He must know she couldn't state her feelings for him, and she saw Dick was wearing his silk necktie that she had bought for him, though it didn't go with what he was wearing.
Not that Jemima cared; Humphry was wearing his too, and the dance passed quickly, on ending, Humphry encouraged them both outside for some air as Philippa went off to talk to Frances Bassett, one intelligent woman to another.
He, Dick and Jemima talked about the move to the Midlands, Edward and Murdoch preparing the ground, Dick told them, and that he had sent his design.
When Humphry went in at the call of more music, Jemima and Dick remained outside in the cool of the night.
"I have told Darby, and Edward too, that I need you," Dick told her.
"And I will speak to father," Jemima told him.
"You believe in the steam locomotive?"
"Do you doubt it? After all this time?"
Suddenly, Dick took Jemima in his arms, his kiss as firm and hot as it had been the night he had walked her home after the wakes, stirring a sense of her needing him to be exactly where he was, arms around her.
She was kissing him back, Jemima remembered, not just being the recipient of his feelings, she wanted the kiss, wanted to feel the want he had for her.
"Come on!" It was Humphry who broke them apart, and they both looked at the door of Tehidy house, where Humphry was calling to them.
"Jemima! Dick! Another gavotte?" He left the door and was over by them, no indication in the least that he had seen them kissing, or unconcerned if they had been.
"Philippa would like you to ask her!" he told Dick.
"How do you know?"
"She just said."
A three of them walked back inside, and Dick duly asked Philippa Giddy to dance the gavotte. They retreated to the doorway, where the heat from the fires were lessened, and pointed at the couples, at dresses, at suits, at boots and hair.
"She looks like Davies don't you think?" Jemima said to Humphry as they smiled at the dancing couples.
And they chatted about Humphry's medical round, that he would undertake for Dr. Withering, "More nursing and treatment than diagnosis. Oh, but you should come, Jemima! You are good at physic, has your father taught you?"
"Not really," Jemima told him, "I have helped him, of course."
"He says you will," Humphry replied, enthusiastically. "Now you have some time, now the Ting Tongs don't need you."
Jemima was about to reply, about to tell Humphry that, indeed, while Ting Tongs might not need her so much, she had had an offer from George Warleggan to go back to Wheal Leisure again.
"The Ting Tongs don't need you?"
Poldark, who had stepped outside too, had thought of nothing in goading her. But Jemima was too happy to fall to anger.
"Excuse me, Captain Poldark, I neither sought not asked for your company.". She glanced to Humphry, who looked back to Jemima.
"Good evening," Jemima nodded, and turned to step inside. Beside her, Humphry followed and they stood by the inner hall door, and began to chat again about the dancers, Jemima noticing both Jane Harvey's eyes on Dick and George Warleggan's on Francis Poldark's wife.
But Ross Poldark was not finished yet and, as soon as Humphry had gone to dance once again, Jemima heard voice beside her ear.
"You look well, tonight."
"Captain Poldark, my thanks for your compliment to my health." Jemima turned and headed towards the French windows, which she opened, and was about to step through. But Poldark pua hand over hers. Jemima turned, bracing herself for an argument.
"Thank you for the engine," Poldark told her as she turned to face him. "Henshawe tells me it has no flaws on it."
Jemima's anger was displaced by indignation for a moment.
"Why should there be? I have made three on my own, and assisted on the other nine. What makes you think I couldn't mend yours? It needs a new beam valve, which Captain Henshawe knows about and - " Jemima pulled her hand away from Ross's grip and shrugged away from him.
"Why so nasty? I was just asking. But, of course, if you are thinking of heading back to Leisure, be told that all the people you knew - " he stopped, and shrugged, " - not there any more."
"Why should you think I might care?" Jemima pushed on the door, amd took a step outside. Poldark followed her. Jemima got as far as the hedgerow that led to the formal, Capability Brown-style garden before the man caught up with her.
"Are you listening to me? You will be working for George's men, who he appoints - "
"So? What business is that of yours?". But the man had taken both of her wrists and had pulled her towards him.
"It is my business if you are going onto my land, my mine!"
"There is a lode of copper there, exactly as I said there was. You, your wife, your employees, Henshawe and yes, even Mr. Warleggan would have been better off now, if you had acted when I said! Stop! You're hurting me!". For Ross Poldark was now squeezing her wrists.
Jemima wriggled one away, and managed to swing it towards him, catching him at the side of head. He let go, and she put her arms up in defence as Poldark struck her back.
Behind them was a commotion at the scene, and Jemima saw someone stalking past the onlookers in their direction.
"I would have words with you," were the only words Dick Trevithick, the Cornish wrestling champion, said, before punching Ross Poldark in the face.
"…then Master Trevithick then carried Captain Poldark down to the stables and hooked him onto one of the horse tacks!"
Jemima, who was still shaking, heard Humphry Davy recount the brief version to George Warleggan, who had come outside at the common. He stood beside Jemima who, though not crying, was shaking. She took Humphry's hand.
"Then! I am not surprised! When did Ross Poldark ever behave like the gentleman he claims to be?". These words were spoken to the world at large and then to Humphry, who was still beside her, "Would you stay here a while, would speak to Master Trevithick."
Captain Trevithick was beside his son as George walked over to him, and Jemima hoped that he wasn't about to remonstrate with Dick, who kept looking over to her, his face thunderous.
"Don't tell my father; he'll never let me work at Leisure again now another Poldark has attacked me for nothing."
"You have too little faith in Mr. Warleggan," Humphry told her. "He has all but barred Captain Poldark from the place, and replaced the workers; they're all at Grace now."
So it was true - Poldark had decamped to Wheal Grace, not just opened it at the same time.
There were shouts from the stables, and servants rushing in the direction of the shouts. Jemima saw George Warleggan speaking to Sir Francis at the open door, testing towards Jemima, while over where Dick was, Captain Trevithick was physically restraining his son from his apparent attempt to cross to Jemima.
She gave him as best a smile as she could. Behind him, Francis Poldark, and then Mistress Demelza crossed the courtyard towards the stables, Demelza giving Jemima a pained smile.
"Master Davy, I have spoken to Sir Francis, and explained I am taking Miss Withering back to her home. You are welcome to come with us, although I know you are escorting Miss Giddy."
Humphry gave Jemima a quick look of question. She nodded, briefly, indicating that this was all right by her, and then said, "I promised to escort Miss Giddy, I see this party is not yet over."
But he waited beside Jemima, as the onlookers melted back inside and Dick reluctantly let his father march him away, his eyes on her until Jemima could see them no longer.
It was a good mile before Warleggan spoke to Jemima, his eyes fixed outside, his way, perhaps, if letting her know his behaviour was nothing like that of Poldark's.
It wasn't strictly true: Tom Harry had kidnapped her; George had claimed not to know, and she believed him. A more gentlemanly gentleman Jemima had never seen.
"That man, he lords over me his ancient lineage…" The words seemed more for Warleggan's self, not really for Jemima, and as soon as he said them, he looked at her as if it were the first time he was seeing her.
Then he straightened, and nodded to her.
"I, we, apologise that I allowed you to come to harm."
"You? You were dancing with Jane Harvey when Humphry and I were speaking, in a room full of people, Mr. Warleggan," Jemima emphasised. "It is not your fault he chose to behave as he did. I am just sorry we did not dance the closing, as you said."
"I thought it best I took you home."
"I agree. I would not have liked to be around when Poldark finally got out of wherever Dick Trevithick threw him!".
George Warleggan smiled. A genuine expression, one Jemima would come to know. How was it that it would only be when it was he or she who were in the very depths of hell that they could find the very thing to say to one another? To be the finest friends two people - better even than the six friends she counted at that time - could ever be? Even after George discovered the truth for himself?
But that wasn't for now. Now, Jemima smiled back, and answered his half-dreamy question.
"It seems to me that lineages are just that - every one of the lines had to start somewhere, every man to his own skill. I value merit over birth, Mr Warleggan, as I said before." Jemima felt herself relaxing, and George dipped his head with a smile.
"My word, Miss Withering, you are sounding like the revolutionaries over in France."
"I hope I do not," Jemima replied, firmly. "A man in power because of his birth had better be a wise one, a skilful one, or everyone suffers."
They rode in silence again until the moon shone over Camborne, like a light left on for one returning home. George Warleggan helped her from the carriage and they stood outside Meadowsweet house for a moment.
"When we came out this evening, I said I had something I wanted to tell you."
You said "ask" Jemima thought, but nodded instead, not feeling in the mood for further conflict. "Dunkin," Warleggan continued, "To buy his shares in the boat building business, sold his Wheal Leisure shares to me.". The moonlight caught his beaming smile.
"I am currently majority shareholder; Poldark has cleared out. And I need a mining captain.". He nodded to Jemima.
"Me?!" she exclaimed. "I can't do that, your mem would not tolerate a woman. Besides, your man, Tom Harry - "
" - Will be nowhere near you, of that I promise. And, believe me, Poldark will be out of the place soon enough, he has already taken everything that is not nailed down over to Wheal Grace. Tell me," George bent his head, "Was he unseemly towards you?"
"Apart from grabbing me, you mean?"
"He loves you. The steam engineer," George dipped his head near Jemina's ear. "If he hasn't told you, it is clear by his behaviour tonight. You still wish to work with him?"
"On the engines, yes, " Jemima replied. "Only, he has work in the Midlands, and I think he won't be in Cornwall much next year. So," she added firmly, "Whatever he feels, he must feel at a distance!"
Warleggan smiled again, then leaned in to kiss Jemima's cheek.
Then, whispered near her ear, "And, as of tonight, I have arranged finance in order to own all Wheal Leisure shares. It is your mine, Miss Withering, to captain, to survey, to explore and make profit on. If you want it.".
He stepped back, and stood impassively, as if he had said nothing at all.
"Mr Warleggan," Jemima restarted the conversation . "If I were a man, would you have the same faith in me?"
"No, because I would not have asked you at a party, you would have taken my offer in June at the shareholders' meeting and we would have been further on in our copper extraction."
What else could she say? A mine of her own, the mine she knew so well and had been so aggrieved to leave? There was only one thing.
"Yes, I will Mr. Warleggan, but there is something I need to do which will necessitate travelling to Shropshire, at the proper time."
"Take the time, when you need it. With Trevithick?". Jemima hadn't even told her father yet, or discussed the plans with Dick, even if there was a plan. But she nodded anyway.
"Can you teach Bettys the engine?"
"You want a Cornish engine? Despite Watt's threats?"
"What can he do? Come and dismantle every one by hand? No, that's what we pay lawyers for."
"You are remarkably well informed, Mr. Warleggan."
"It is my business to be. And, I will increase what you were getting at Wheal Leisure as surveyor to reflect your change in rank, you will co-work with Bettys, for he needs to know the geography below grass. Will a day be enough to tie up your business with Sir Francis?"
Jemima's heart was beating rapidly. Whatever she might have thought Warleggan was going to ask her, it wasn't this.
"It..will, sir."
"And, after tonight, you will never have to see Poldark at that mine; he no longer controls the operations."
Jemima held out a hand, and George Warleggan shook it.
"I take that you accept?". Jemima nodded.
"Then," Warleggan told her, getting back into the carriage, "I will see you at your mine the day after tomorrow.