by Jo Ann Brown
“Why are you looking in every direction?” Arthur asked. “What do you expect to see in the darkness?”
“The children.”
“But they are in the nursery at Cothaire.”
“I know, but it seems odd not to be constantly watching that they are not wandering off or getting into mischief. I don’t know what to do with myself.”
He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it. When he answered, she wondered what he had planned to say originally, but his words pushed other thoughts from her head.
“Maris, you could help me sort out what I learned tonight.”
“I would be happy to try.”
“Thank you.”
She waited for him to add more, but he became so silent she could hear the hushed waves against the sand in the cove. Knowing she might be courting trouble, she took his hand between hers. He glanced at their fingers pressed together, then raised his eyes to meet hers. His gaze burned through the dim light from the lantern as his other hand touched her cheek as lightly as the faint breeze coming off the sea.
“Tell me,” she whispered. “A burden shared is a burden you no longer have to carry alone.”
“You sound like Father.”
“Tell me, Arthur,” she said, refusing to let him change the subject.
He did not look away. “I was late to the meeting because I had another. With someone I thought might be able to help me learn the truth of what happened to Cranny. I did not learn anything new other than Cranny, a man I have long considered a good friend, may not be the man I believed him to be.” He pushed himself away from the tree, but did not slide his hand out of hers. His fingers tightened around her palm. “The duel he fought the night he died was not his first. It may have been closer to his tenth. In every case, he was challenged because he wronged someone else.”
“I am sorry. I know how painful it is when someone you admire has feet of clay. I have learned their faults are not mine.” She smiled sadly. “I have enough weaknesses of my own. I don’t need to assume theirs, too.”
When his arms came up to draw her close to him, she leaned her face against his chest and drew in his wonderful scent, a mixture of wool and linen and his horse and the night air. She should not be in his arms; that place belonged to another woman. Even so, she lingered for one precious minute, then another, listening to his heart’s steady beat and his deep breaths as he fought the hurt in him.
He released her, and she stepped back. “I am truly sorry, Arthur.”
“I know. I am sorry, too.” He took down the lantern and held out his arm as he had before.
Again she put her hand on it. As they walked toward Cothaire, she wondered if when he spoke of being sorry he was referring to his disappointment with his friend’s shortcomings. Or if he meant his words to mean he was sorry he had to release her because of his vow to his father.
Chapter Eleven
“They are here!” Bertie rushed into Arthur’s room, the door slamming into the wall behind him.
Goodwin popped out of the dressing room. He moved to intercept the little boy before he could reach the desk where Arthur was working on another coded message to Gwendolyn about the missing pages in her last letter. Four days had passed since he had last written to her, and he had received no answer so he was writing again. He would see her next week at the hunt hosted by Miller. That might delay the missing message too long, because he would not be able to leave it for the next courier until he returned to Cothaire.
Arthur waved Goodwin aside and gestured to Bertie. “Who is here?”
The little boy’s eyes were as wide as platters. “Cap is here! Susu, too!”
He smiled. His sister had married Captain Drake Nesbitt as soon as the banns could be read, and they had sailed on his ship for their honeymoon. The Kestrel must be moored again in Porthlowen Harbor.
Opening a drawer, Arthur swept the pages into it. He closed the drawer and locked it. Once he had thought doing so was an unnecessary precaution, but that was before Molly slipped into his rooms. If an innocent toddler could do that, someone far less virtuous might, too.
He stood and reached for his coat. Shrugging it on, he said, “Goodwin, I will need my evening clothes laid out for tonight’s dinner. Mrs. Ford is certain to be preparing a feast already to welcome the newlyweds home.”
“Of course, my lord.” Goodwin’s smile was almost as broad as Bertie’s.
The household staff was especially fond of Susanna, who had been born many years after the other children. She, like the six foundlings, was cherished by the servants.
“Come along, friend of the bear,” Arthur said as he held out his hand to Bertie, who was bouncing from one foot to the other.
The little boy grasped his hand, and Arthur swung him up into his arms. Bertie crowed out a laugh. “Go, bear! Go! Go! Go!”
“We are go-go-going.” He strode to the door.
By the time they reached the entry hall, the house was in an uproar. Arthur followed the sound of voices into the small parlor filled to overflowing as his family and the staff welcomed the newlyweds back to Cothaire. Drake and Susanna smiled at everyone, but their first hugs were for the children, especially the twins, who had won a special place in his younger sister’s heart.
Arthur held on to Bertie and waited patiently while others greeted his sister and her husband. Captain Nesbitt had proved both his courage and his love for Susanna before asking her to become his wife. Arthur at first had worried when his younger sister fell in love with a sailor. Carrie had lost her beloved John to the sea, and Arthur did not want Susanna to suffer the same grief. But as he came to know Drake and saw the love they shared, he had heartily approved of the match.
People shifted, giving him a clear path to reach his sister. Setting Bertie by his feet, Arthur reached over his little head to give her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Welcome home.” He offered his hand to Drake. “Are you going to be able to stay for a while?”
“Long enough to set up housekeeping on the other side of the cove,” Susanna said, smiling.
Arthur remembered how their father had built what he called a dower house across the cove. The idea at one time was his parents would retire there when Arthur married. Instead, it would be Susanna’s first home as a married woman.
“How are you, Bertie?” his sister asked.
The little boy tapped his chest. “I friend of bear.”
“Are you?” Susanna tried to hide her confusion, but looked toward Maris.
Arthur smiled as Maris explained, before she gently moved the children away so he could speak to his sister without interruption.
“So you are the bear, Arthur?” Susanna asked, tilting her head. “I have to say you have had more than your fair share of grouchy days when you growled like a bear.”
“Very funny.” He tapped her nose as he had when she was younger. When her husband turned to talk to Raymond, he went on, “Marriage seems to agree with you, baby sister.”
She kissed his cheek as she gave him another hug. “You might consider giving it a chance one of these days.”
“Not you, too!”
Susanna regarded him with a frown. “What have I missed?”
Arthur told her about their father’s request. As he had expected, his younger sister bristled at both the request and the deadline Father had given him to propose to Gwendolyn.
“Not that she would make a poor wife for you, Arthur, but Father should not ask that of you.”
“As Carrie has said, daughters have faced such requests since time immemorial.”
“Even so,” Susanna murmured, deflating as she recognized the truth in their sister’s words, “Father should not ask such a thing of you. I want you to be as happy as Drake and I are.”
“I am not sure that is possible.” He kept his eyes from cutting to where Maris talked to Drake and the twins. He pasted a smile on his face and hoped it did not look as hideous as it felt. “You and Drake have found something ra
re.”
“I disagree. Do you think Raymond is any less happy with Elisabeth than I am with Drake? Do you think Caroline and John loved each other less than Drake and me? What about our parents?”
Arthur held up his hands. “I surrender, Susanna. Our family has been given many blessings. Don’t you think it is greedy to ask for another?” His heart contracted at his own question. Was he trying to convince himself or Susanna it was not necessary for him to have a marriage filled with love?
“God has never limited the number or breadth of his blessings. You know that.”
“Yes, but I am saying we should be thankful for what we have.”
His sister’s silver-gray eyes became slits as she frowned. “You are hiding something. Or trying to. What is it?”
“A topic for another day. Let’s enjoy your homecoming.”
“As you wish, but don’t forget, big brother, you have only a few days left to convince yourself that you are worthy of such a blessing.” She gave him one more penetrating appraisal before being drawn into another conversation.
Arthur glanced at where Susanna looped her arm around her new husband’s. Anyone looking at them could not doubt the depth of their love.
Lord, am I wrong to want that for myself? I know I have given my word, and I will not break that vow, but is it wrong to want real love? A love like I could have with Maris?
He must be patient. God responded to every prayer, but God’s answer might not be the one Arthur wanted. He must accept that, though it would be hard for his heart.
Abruptly he felt like an island of melancholy in a sea of joy. Not wanting to dampen everyone’s high spirits, he edged toward the door. He stepped into the corridor and released a deep sigh.
“That sounds profound.”
Maris stood framed by the doorway. He craved the warmth of her in his arms. He had enjoyed that briefly by the sea cliffs, and his arms had felt desperately empty since.
When he continued to stare at her without speaking, she said, “This should be a happy day.”
“It is.”
“You don’t look happy.”
“I have too many not happy matters on my mind.”
She glanced over her shoulder, then moved closer. “Have you learned more about your friend?”
“No, but I did not expect to quickly.”
“Then why do you look a portrait of gloom? What are you not telling me?”
I fear I am falling in love with you. No, he could not say that. How many times had someone come up to him in recent days and mentioned it would be nice to have a celebration at Cothaire at Christmastime? No one used the word wedding, but he knew exactly what the comments meant. How so many people knew of his father’s request for a marriage ceremony for his heir by year’s end could be explained by the fact most secrets swiftly became un-secrets in Porthlowen.
“This is not the place for this sort of conversation,” he said when he realized she would not accept silence as an answer.
“If you need to talk, you know where you can find me.” She touched his arm, then went into the room to watch over the children.
Yes, he knew where to find her when the house grew quiet and the children were asleep. She would be in the day nursery, snatching a few minutes to read. He need only go up the stairs. No! He must not seek her out after the family gathered for dinner tonight. He should think only of Gwendolyn!
Yet he knew he would eventually return to the nursery when the house was quiet. It might be his final chance to spend time alone with Maris before he wed.
* * *
Maris gave up on the idea of the children taking a nap. They were too wound up to lie down. When she persuaded one to rest, another was up and running around with excitement. She tried to get them to play with their toys, but they were more interested in racing from the door to the windows, hoping for a sight of Lady Susanna and Captain Nesbitt.
She finally lifted them up onto the window bench and pointed at where Captain Nesbitt’s ship, The Kestrel, rocked in the cove. That set them to chattering as they told her about their visit to it. They seemed to have forgotten she had been with them, and she did not remind them. As they listed what they had seen, she smiled at their childish impressions of the vessel and its crew.
She was unsure how long they would have gone on if the sound of footsteps had not reached the nursery. A man’s footsteps, she realized, and her heart did a somersault.
Was it Arthur?
When Venton, one of the footmen, appeared in the doorway, Maris submerged her disappointment. She should have guessed Arthur was busy with his family. It was as it should be.
“Venton, can I help you?” she asked, motioning for him to come in.
He carried a wagon painted in bright greens and yellows. “May I leave this here for Lady Caroline?” He set the small wagon with its extra-long handle on the floor in front of Maris.
She kept the children from swarming over it. “What is that for?”
“It is a baby wagon. So the infant does not have to be carried all the time. I thought as a nurse you would recognize it instantly.”
She did not look at him. “I have heard of them, of course. I never have seen one.”
“Lord Trelawney had it brought down from the attic because he thought Lady Caroline and you would want to use it for Joy.”
“It is wonderful.” She gave him a genuine smile. “I know Lady Caroline will be delighted.”
He nodded and left without another word.
Maris let the children examine the wagon, but did not let them climb into it. “This is for little Joy. You are big boys and girls, not babies.”
“My baby.” Gil patted the side and stuck out his narrow chest.
“Yes, for your baby.” She kissed the top of his head, amazed at the devotion such a young child could show for another. It spoke well of Gil’s warm heart and the man he could become.
The hours passed quickly as the children played. Maris opened a window when the air became heavy in the nursery, but more humidity came rushing in along with the cooler air from outside. Everything began to feel clammy, and the children grew fussy because they were uncomfortable and tired.
She was considering another attempt at naps before tea arrived when suddenly Lulu let out a shriek. Spinning to chastise whoever had upset her, Maris had to leap aside as the twins burst to their feet and ran past her toward the door.
“Susu!” they both shouted.
The girls flung their arms around Lady Susanna. The boys did the same. The lady greeted each of them with warmth, but it was clear by the way her fingers lingered on the twins’ heads that she had a special place in her heart for the two little girls.
“I would like to speak with Miss Oliver.” When the children continued chattering exuberantly, she frowned.
Maris said, “They know me as Maris, not Miss Oliver.”
“Ah,” Lady Susanna said, her smile returning. “Children, you need to play now with your toys while I talk with Maris. Once we are done, I will sit with you. I want to hear about everything—absolutely everything—you did while I was gone.”
“Up kite!” Lulu shouted, too excited to wait.
“Play now,” Maris said, echoing the lady’s words. “Or why don’t you practice the song we learned about boats? Then you can sing it to her later.”
That suggestion diverted the children. As they raced away, mangling the words to the song, Lady Susanna smiled more broadly.
“They seem so happy,” she said. “I believe we have you to thank, Miss Oliver. Or should I call you Maris as the children do?”
“It would make it easier for them and for you.” Realizing she held an armful of blocks, she put them in their box. “I do not mean to rush you, but they will not stay distracted for long.”
“Very well. I shall get right to the point. Drake and I have discussed it, and we would like to bring Lulu and Molly with us to our new house. It will not be a problem, will it?”
“Of course not, my lady
,” Maris said, even as her heart cramped. She loved the little girls, and the nursery would not be the same with them gone.
From the beginning, she had known the children could depart at any time and with no notice. But she had thought they would leave only when their true families were found. She never imagined the youngsters would be separated before then. Toby had lived with the parson and his wife since the children’s rescue, and now the twins were going away. Gil spent most days with Lady Caroline. That would leave Bertie without a playmate.
Maybe Lady Caroline would bring Gil and the baby to the nursery more frequently, or Toby could come and spend more time. Even though the boys squabbled like brothers, Bertie otherwise would be the sole child in the nursery.
If she had not had Belinda to play with when she was young, her days would have been tedious. To be alone, day after lonely day, made time pass slowly. She did not want that for Bertie.
“I know this may be difficult for the children when they have been living together since their arrival at Cothaire,” Lady Susanna said, warning Maris she had not hidden her thoughts well.
“It will, but it is good for the twins to be with you and Captain Nesbitt. Each time a ship came into view, they wanted to know if it was his.”
“I assure you we will invite the boys to the house often, and when Drake is at sea, I probably will spend most of my time here at Cothaire. In addition, we will be here regularly because Arthur asked if I would handle Cothaire’s accounts until he can hire an estate manager. I want to make this transition as easy as possible for the children. I know they are going to be unsettled by another change.”
“Children are more resilient than we give them credit for.”
The lady put a hand on Maris’s arm. “And I suspect it will difficult for you, as well.”
Wishing her face did not display her thoughts and reactions, Maris replied, “Of course I shall miss them. They are delightful. However, they will be happiest with you.”
“Drake and I are the ones blessed to have them in our lives. That is why we want to have them with us for as long as God allows.”