by Jo Ann Brown
“Haven’t you been?”
She flinched beneath his palms, and he wondered why the simple question had bothered her. He admired how the Trelawneys had taken the castaways into their home and their hearts. They could have turned over responsibility of the children’s care to their servants or even to the villagers. Instead, they had treated the children like long-lost family.
Not waiting for her reply, he said, “I am getting the doctor. Maybe he can tell us something.”
“Something to help Lucy?”
“To help all of us.”
Chapter Five
Stepping out of the Trelawney carriage in front of a simple stone cottage, Drake was about to open the gate in the low stone wall when he heard someone call his name. He was surprised to see a young woman running toward him, waving her hands wildly to get his attention. She looked to be barely more than sixteen. Her dark hair had been pushed haphazardly back under a cap, and her feet were bare.
“Captain Nesbitt!” she shouted again.
“Good morning.” The words tasted like bilgewater on the lowest deck of The Kestrel. He should be thankful that Lucy had regained her senses—and he was—but her faulty memory was troubling.
The girl came to a stop beside him. “Is it true? Did one of the children fall at Cothaire and die?”
He gave her what he hoped was a calming smile. “Lucy fell, but she is going to be fine.” He refused to let doubt slip into his voice, not wanting to upset the girl more.
“But you are here at Mr. Hockbridge’s house. If Lucy is fine, then why are you here?”
Instead of answering, he asked a question of his own. “You are...?”
“I am Peggy Smith.” She bounced in a quick curtsy.
“The lass who has worked for Miss Rowse in her shop?”
She nodded so hard he feared he would hear her teeth rattle. “Yes.”
“Have you always lived in Porthlowen village, Miss Smith?”
At his respectful tone, she flushed, then dimpled. “No, Captain. I am from a fishing village west of here, but when I heard of the opportunity for a job, I came to see if Miss Rowse would hire me. Who would have guessed in my first month here that something would happen as exciting as a boatload of children washing ashore? Now—” Her voice broke and she raised her apron to cover her face.
He peeled the linen back enough so he could see her eyes. “Miss Smith, Lucy is awake, and I was sent to get Mr. Hockbridge to look her over.”
“Thank you, Captain!” She whirled away, racing back in the direction of the village shop.
Drake watched her for a moment, then, shaking his head, opened the gate. His knock roused Hockbridge from bed, because the doctor had been up late last night when a fisherman sliced his hand while repairing nets. It had taken some time to get the bleeding under control. When Drake began to apologize for waking him, the doctor halted him with an ironic comment about how such hours were the lot of anyone foolish enough to practice medicine.
Drake liked the doctor immediately, especially because Hockbridge was as eager to return to Cothaire. Within minutes, they were heading toward the great house.
He quizzed the doctor about what might be wrong with Lucy and what to expect now that she had regained her senses. The doctor answered each question calmly but did not offer any false reassurances.
Cothaire was almost as silent as the grave when he and Hockbridge were ushered into the entry hall. The servants tiptoed past and spoke in wispy whispers. No work was being done that might disturb Lucy. He did not realize how much he had hoped Lucy would be back to normal by the time he returned with Hockbridge, but obviously little had changed. Even Baricoat, when he came to escort them upstairs himself without a word of greeting. Instead, the butler nodded in their direction and began toward the stairs, confident that they would follow.
As soon as the butler opened the door, Lucy called from the bed, “Cap!”
He was surprised to see Mollie sitting on the bed. Her puzzled expression matched what he felt when Lucy pointed to him and repeated the name as if her twin had never met him before.
Lady Susanna glided silently across the floor to stand beside him while Mr. Hockbridge walked to the bed, smiling at both girls as if he were there for a social call.
“Mollie refused to stay with the other children,” Lady Susanna said softly. “I agreed that she could come here as long as she was quiet so she did not aggravate her sister’s headache. As well, seeing Mollie may help Lucy remember.”
“What has Mollie said?” asked the doctor.
“Very little. I think she is accustomed to Lucy taking the lead. At least, it has been that way since they arrived here. Now...” She wrapped her arms around herself as she had in the hall.
“Did I hear good news?” asked Lady Caroline as she came into the room holding the baby and with Gil clutching her skirt. “Good morning, Lucy! We are so happy to see you are awake and smiling.”
Seeing Lucy’s bewilderment, Drake said, “Lady Caroline, Mr. Hockbridge is here to check Lucy. Let’s talk in the hallway.”
The lady glanced at her sister, and Lady Susanna motioned for her to go with Drake. Closing the door behind them, he explained how Lucy seemed to have lost her memory of the time before she woke up.
“Oh my!” Lady Caroline rested her forehead against the baby’s and murmured a quick prayer for Lucy.
The pose was so loving and intimate that Drake felt as if he had intruded. When she finished her prayer for healing and looked at him, saying, “Amen,” he added his own. A pinch of guilt taunted him. Was he saying that to add his prayer to hers or simply because it was the acceptable thing to do?
He submerged the thought and the accompanying guilt. They had had a sleepless night, so he should not be surprised at the peculiar thoughts bombarding his mind.
“How is the earl this morning?” he asked.
Lady Caroline blinked at the abrupt change of subject. “He had a restless night, but his valet assured me that he is resting now. Probably not resting comfortably, though he can forget about the pain when he sleeps.”
“Would laudanum help?”
“Certainly, but he refuses to take it. He saw how it helped my mother slip away when she was ill and vowed never to take it.”
“He sounds much like your sister.”
A faint smile warmed her face. “They are much the same. You are an excellent judge of character, Captain, to have noticed that on such a short acquaintance.”
He did not want to say that Lady Susanna had not been far from his thoughts since the moment he first saw her in the smoking room. Nor could he speak of how perfectly she had fit in his arms on the terrace at dawn.
The bedchamber door opened, and Hockbridge followed Lady Susanna into the hallway. The doctor’s face was grim, but he said nothing until he had closed the door.
“Will she recover?” Lady Caroline asked before Drake could.
“Her reflexes react as they should,” Hockbridge said. “Her eyes follow my finger normally, and she can talk and move as is appropriate for a child her age.”
“But?”
Lady Susanna answered, “She cannot remember anything from before she woke, save her own name. And we are not even sure about that. She may have assumed it was her name simply because that is what we called her. Have you noticed she no longer lisps? She speaks quite clearly, but everything and everyone she knew before have vanished from her mind.”
As Lady Caroline gasped, Drake said, “I have heard of this before, when a man was struck on the head by a heavy bale. At first, he could not even recall his own name, but, in time, most of his memories returned.”
“How much time?” Lady Susanna asked.
“It may be hours or it may be days.” The doctor shrugged. “We know so little about how the brain wor
ks, so we have no idea how to help.”
“There must be something we can do.”
Drake heard desperation in her plea. He had already seen that Lady Susanna liked to have everything under control. Now she had been handed the most unlikely of circumstances: an abandoned child who could not even remember her own sister.
“What about familiar things?” he asked. “Would they help her regain her memories?”
The doctor nodded thoughtfully. “Sometimes familiar faces and familiar sights can persuade the mind to find memories that have been lost.”
“But nothing here is familiar to her!” Lady Susanna flushed and added in a calmer tone, “Without some idea of where the children lived before they were found, how can we show her anything she would have seen before she was injured?”
Hockbridge looked bewildered, his mouth opening and closing like a fish washed up on the shore.
Drake waited for him to say something, then, when the doctor remained silent, shared what he saw as the obvious solution. “You must help her see as many different items and people and places as possible.”
“Yes,” Lady Susanna said with a warm smile, “and with God’s guidance, may we find a way to help her recall everything she has forgotten.” With a laugh, she turned to him and said, “That was a brilliant suggestion, Captain Nesbitt.”
When she threw her arms around him and gave him a hug as enthusiastic as her voice, he was shocked. At her action, but not at his reaction to her touch. He already knew that even the brush of her fingers against his arm sent a tingle rippling through him.
No one spoke as she drew back, her face flushed.
“Forgive me,” she whispered. “I was so excited that—”
“No need to say anything, my lady.”
At his formal address, she flinched. Because he had reminded her of her status or his lack of it? Maybe both.
It was something he could not allow himself to forget. Or let his heart forget, because it would end up hurt as it had before.
Never again.
* * *
Susanna was thankful for her family’s assistance because someone needed to sit with Lucy, day and night, as the little girl regained her strength and the swelling around her bruises faded. Even Elisabeth was able to get a few hours away from her shop because she had hired Peggy Smith to help at the shop full-time. No doubt, Elisabeth had begun to worry—quite rightly—about how she would take care of the shop and fulfill her obligations as the parson’s wife. Elisabeth had worked in the shop alone since her father died three years ago. She never complained about doing the job of two people. She kept the shop open so the villagers did not have to travel over the cliffs and into the neighboring cove to obtain the necessities they could not grow or make themselves.
Susanna understood taking on duties that consumed hours every day. She wished she could say that, like Elisabeth, she had never complained, but that would be false. Every time she saw Elisabeth, Susanna realized how blessed she was that she had her sister and Arthur to help oversee the estate.
But they needed someone to oversee the children in the nursery. Someone with experience and the patience to deal with so many small children. On the days when Raymond or Elisabeth could not watch over Toby, and the little boy returned to Cothaire for a few hours, it was always chaotic. He and Bertie vied to see which one could aggravate the other more, and they ended up setting everyone, adults and children, on edge.
Several inquiries had gone out to families they knew, hoping that someone could recommend a skilled nurse. The few answers apologized for not being able to help. Another batch would have to be sent if they found no one in Cornwall or Devon. Perhaps someone in Somerset or Dorset to the east could assist them.
Susanna tried to keep up with her duties for the household. Mrs. Hitchens had assumed some of them. However, a few, such as menus and arranging for payment to tradesmen, required Susanna’s approval. In addition, she would soon be coordinating repairs to the nursery.
Keeping busy prevented her from thinking, and that was good because too many of her thoughts revolved around Captain Nesbitt. How could she have thrown herself at him like a hoyden not once but twice? Caroline had not mentioned her inappropriate actions, which told her that her sister was deeply disturbed by Susanna’s lack of restraint. Neither of her brothers nor her father chastised her for her heedless behavior, but she almost wished they would. In the two days since Lucy had awakened without her memories, she had seen her family watching her when they thought she did not notice.
Captain Nesbitt had not returned to Cothaire. Raymond mentioned at dinner that his crew was hard at work doing the final repairs to his ship. Her brother, also, with a great deal of respect in his voice, remarked how Captain Nesbitt worked as long and hard as his crew. He had glanced toward Susanna when he said that, but she had not been able to guess why.
So Susanna kept her days full, sleeping only when she could no longer stay awake. She was one of the first up every morning, and by the time she blew out her lamp, the rest of the house was dark.
Busy, busy, busy.
Lucy was an excellent patient, reveling in all the attention, but about one matter she was adamant. She insisted on calling Susanna “Mama.” Susanna admitted, only to herself, that she liked having a child call her that. She had thought often of having children with Franklin, imagining the joy of holding their baby in her arms. That dream had died along with her belief that he loved her.
But none of the children truly belonged to her or her sister or Raymond. Getting attached to them was foolish, but how could she avoid that when Lucy gazed at her with unabashed love? Once Lucy regained her memory, she would know Susanna was not her mother. Perhaps then the little girl might recall something that would lead them to her true mother.
Knowing that she must return to the children as soon as possible so Elisabeth could go back to the shop, Susanna decided to collect some of her father’s correspondence and work on replies while Lucy took a nap later this afternoon. Mr. Hockbridge insisted that sleep was the best medicine.
She yawned at the thought, then yawned a second and a third time. Trying to keep her eyes open, she hurried down the stairs and into the entry hall. Papa’s correspondence was in the office. Though she could have left such matters to his valet or the estate manager, writing replies would keep her from thinking about—
She hit something hard. Not something, but someone, because her breath and the other person’s both came out in a loud whoof. A gray cloud surrounded her as if she had beaten a filthy rug.
“Avast there, my lady.”
“Captain Nesbitt!” Susanna took a step back. When her gaze met his, an unsettling warmth flooded her face.
Lord, help me understand why I act addled whenever he is nearby. The prayer burst out the way her breath had.
“I did not expect to see you today, Captain,” she added.
“At the speed you were going, with your eyes focused on the floor, I doubt you could have seen anyone.”
“I am sorry. I did not hurt you, did I?”
He looked down at his chest and patted his brown waistcoat that was flecked with sawdust. “I seem to be none the worst for you trying to plow me over. No dents anywhere.”
Susanna laughed. Out loud. Louder than she had in longer than she could remember. For three days, she had fretted about what Captain Nesbitt must think of her. She had planned what she might say the next time she encountered him. All of that had been a waste of time, because she had quite literally run into him and she could not think of a single thing to say that would not sound ridiculous.
A slow, easy grin eased his stern face. “Perhaps it was for the best that your head was down rather than mine. Otherwise, you might have injured yourself by colliding with my hard head.”
“If you have come to see Lucy,” she said, recalling hers
elf, though she could not stop grinning, “she is upstairs playing with the other children. Now that she is feeling better, she refuses to rest as much as she should.”
“Like you, I would guess.”
She put her hand up to her cheek. She had hoped that the gray arcs beneath her eyes would fade as the day passed.
He took her hand and gently lowered it. “You look fine.”
“But you said—”
“I drew my conclusion from having learned a little bit about you, Lady Susanna. I know when there are tasks to be done you step forward to do them, and when more tasks arrive in a small boat filled with six small children, you do not hesitate to take on those duties, as well.” His smile broadened. “You would make a good ship’s captain.”
A soft warmth flowed through her, easing the icy cold that had been a part of her for so long that it had come to feel normal. He respected her and not because she was an earl’s daughter. He respected her because of what she was trying to accomplish.
Respect. Something she had forgotten how to give herself since she had been embarrassed so publicly.
“Thank you,” she said, though she doubted he understood the true reason for her gratitude.
He gently turned her hand over and raised it to his lips. She had been the recipient of such courteous kisses many times, but none of them ever had delighted her as Captain Nesbitt’s did. He lowered her hand and released it as if loath to do so.
Susanna understood why when past the open door, she heard many more voices approaching the house. She saw a line of women stretching from the gate almost to the door.
“I had no idea you were the vanguard for a parade,” she said.
“Nor did I when I came here to give the earl an update on the progress with repairing The Kestrel.”
“Have you finished them?”
His mouth hardened along with his eyes. “You would have thought so by now, but...” He stepped away to allow the women to enter the house, but, though each of them smiled, they continued around toward the back of the house and the kitchen.