Yours Is The Only Ocean

Chapter One

Chapter One

Cornwall 1785

Alexander Turner had given a lot of thought to the hangman's noose, and what it must feel like around your neck. What went through a person's mind? A feeling of inevitability and a hope for salvation? A strange desire for it all to be over? Maybe an overwhelming feeling of regret for the things you've never done.

For the first time ever, Alex had a clear idea of how those people must have felt. As someone who had always prided himself of being in charge of his own destiny, a power far greater than he was controlling his life, and he had never felt more doomed.

He stood looking out of his bedroom window. In the far distance he saw the beacon go out on the cliffs. It was used to guide ships into shore, and usually when it went out it meant someone was trying to confuse the captain, so the boat would miss its turn and hit the rocks, resulting in a wreck. The local bootleggers and thieves could then ransack it and be off with the cargo before the often drunken crew had a chance to even realise what was going on. It was dangerous and reckless, but Alex knew of the poverty in St Merryn and the neighbouring towns and villages, and the extreme lengths people often had to go to feed their families.

There was a knock on the door. He told the person to come in, and he caught their reflection in the glass. It was Matthew Helders, his oldest friend. Matthew was the accountant to the local wealthy landowners these days, and a respectable married man. But Alex remembered when they were at Harrow and what a scallywag he could be. Even now his palms bore the scars of several canings.

"I thought you'd gone missing," he said, sitting upon Alex's bed, reaching under his waistcoat and adjusting the waistband of his britches. Despite only being thirty, middle-age weight had started to creep up on him.

"I needed a breather," Alex said, turning from the window and sitting beside Matthew. "I find it all a bit much. Let Eliza enjoy the limelight. It's her favourite thing."

"She'll make a fine wife. Half the men in that room envy you. Even us married ones!"

Alex looked at Matthew in surprise.

"I thought you and Dorothy were devoted."

"We are, but Eliza Cunningham....the most beautiful girl in the county."

Alex laughed and reached into his pocket for his cigarillo tin.

"Don't let Arabella hear you say that."

"Arabella's a child."

Alex lit his cigarillo and took great pleasure from inhaling the acrid smoke. It filled his lungs and he felt himself relax as he exhaled.

"You won't be her favourite honorary uncle if she hears you speaking like that."

"I'll live," he chuckled. "I've actually sought you out because Bob Fettle came to my office yesterday. He knew I'd be coming to the party tonight, and he gave me this to give to you."

From the pocket of his waistcoat, he took out a piece of paper folded in two. Without opening it, Alex guessed who it was from. Bob Fettle was dogsbody to Wilbur Kenney, the town solicitor, but he was also the cousin of Jed Harris, Alex's brother-in-law.

He opened the letter and as soon as he saw his sister's beautiful sloping writing, he felt a sense of longing to see her...sad that she wasn't here to witness his special day. Maybe if he'd had Evelyn to support him, things might have seemed a little easier.

Dear Brother Alex

I hope this finds you well. I heard about your engagement to Eliza. You will make each other very happy. I am writing with sorrow in my heart because Freddie is sick again. The fits happen more often now, and the last time it happened, he was asleep for a day afterwards. There is a doctor in Truro, Doctor Pengelly, who has new methods to treat fits. Please help in any way you can, brother. I am begging you.