Promise of a Family

by Jo Ann Brown

  Curious, Susanna stepped outside. Her eyes widened when Mrs. Thorburn marched past with another woman, both of them complaining about everything from the sunshine to the cost of mutton. Neither of them looked in her direction. Then she saw the Winwood sisters. They were the last ones.

  “Miss Hyacinth! Miss Ivy!” She motioned toward the door. “Why don’t you come in and sit? It is a long walk from the village.”

  “It did not seem that way a decade or so ago,” Miss Hyacinth said as she paused to let her sister catch up. They both, like the other women, carried wooden pails.

  “Much younger legs back then.” Miss Ivy motioned with her bucket toward the line of women disappearing around the corner of the house. “But we have come to help, m’lady. We heard that the supplies have arrived so Cothaire’s nursery can be made ready for those poor babes.”

  “Yes, the wood and the new windows were delivered yesterday.” Susanna laughed. “I had no idea that we ordered so much. There is barely room for the horses and all the supplies in the stable.”

  “We wanted to help.” Miss Hyacinth held out her bucket. It was filled with rags and thick chunks of soap.

  “We will have the walls and windows washed down in no time.” Miss Ivy grinned. “Maybe in enough time so we can enjoy a few minutes with the children.”

  Susanna’s smile was so wide her pretty face could barely hold it. “You are so kind, but your own homes—”

  “Our own homes can wait. We want to see the precious cargo that came ashore in the harbor,” Miss Hyacinth said with a smile.

  “Ah, yes. Those wee babes,” her sister added before they waved and went to join the other women.

  Susanna blinked back tears. “I can hardly believe their generosity. With their own families and housework, they still were eager to come to Cothaire and help make a home for six abandoned children.”

  “You must own,” Captain Nesbitt said from where he stood behind her, “that if the situation were reversed, you would be calling on them to see if there was anything you might do to help.”

  He did not touch her, but she was aware of him with every particle of her being. All she had to do was lean her head back, and she could rest against his strength. It was so tempting, but she resisted. Unlike Franklin, Captain Nesbitt had never made it a secret how eager he was to leave. Her place was here, woven into the lives within Cothaire’s walls and in the village. She must not allow herself to forget that.

  No matter what.

  “Of course I would help,” she said without looking at him. “That is my duty as the daughter of an earl, and I need to get back to those duties straightaway.” She added nothing more as she walked off.

  Did he watch her go? She refused to let herself turn to discover if he did. When he sailed from Porthlowen, she would be the one left behind. Would he wonder if she watched him go or would he be thinking only of his next adventure upon the waves?

  Chapter Six

  When Susanna went to relieve Elisabeth, she discovered the children were playing with her sister in the solar, and Elisabeth was already gone. Susanna started to apologize for being delayed, but Caroline waved it aside.

  “Mrs. Hitchens told me how the village women have come to help with the nursery,” Caroline said as she took the baby from Mrs. Ennis, the wet nurse from the village. Thanking Mrs. Ennis, Caroline put little Joy up to her shoulder to burp her. “Susanna, I can stay with the children if you want to check on the progress they are making in the nursery.”

  “I will come right back.”

  “Take all the time you want. The children are playing nicely, and it soon will be time for their naps.”

  Susanna gave her sister a kiss on the cheek. “I am so happy to see you happy.”

  “I feel blessed.” She laughed when a resounding belch emerged from Joy. “Did I hear that Captain Nesbitt called, too?”

  “To see Papa.”

  “About what?”

  Susanna was astonished that she could not answer that simple question. “I don’t know exactly. He said he wanted to talk to Papa about his ship, but when I asked if the repairs were completed, he scowled ferociously.”

  “It could be that he is not as eager as he was before to leave.”

  “Before he saved the children?”

  “Before he met you, little sister.” Caroline’s eyes twinkled. “I know you have a lot on your mind, but surely you cannot be so busy that you have failed to notice how that man looks at you.”

  “Half the time, he looks as if he wants to strangle me.”

  “And the other half, he looks as if he wants to kiss you.”

  Pretending that her sister’s words did not send shivers of anticipation along her—just as Captain Nesbitt’s kiss on her hand had—she gave a terse laugh. “I think you are seeing things.”

  “If you say so, but I am not the only one who thinks that.”

  “Who else?”

  Caroline grinned. “Arthur mentioned something to me when we were talking after dinner a few nights ago.”

  “Arthur?”

  Their brother usually was oblivious to everything but the needs of the estate. He had not, even once, come to see the children. Most nights, he did not join them for the evening meal or for conversation and music and reading aloud after it. Even if he was at the house, he sent his apologies, saying that he had additional tasks to complete.

  “If Arthur noticed anything other than reports from the tenant farms or the gamekeeper, it must be blatant.” Caroline laughed. “Even you cannot deny it, little sister.”

  “I am not denying it. I am saying you are mistaken. Captain Nesbitt intends to sail away as soon as his ship is repaired. Whatever his feelings toward me might be, I would be foolish to give them even a passing thought.”

  “That is very logical.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I did not mean that as a compliment.” Caroline stood and, carrying the baby, faced Susanna. “I know you pride yourself on keeping everything around you under control, but matters of the heart require just the opposite. Letting go and trusting God’s plan for you.”

  “I don’t know what God’s plan is, but I know what Captain Nesbitt’s is, and it does not include staying in Porthlowen to call on me.” She groped behind her for the door and opened it.

  “Susanna?”

  She halted without looking at her sister. “Yes?”

  “Don’t be so determined not to be surprised by anything that you miss out on unexpected moments of happiness.”

  She knew she was being rude when she did not reply as she went out into the hallway and up the stairs. What could she say? Her sister should understand why she acted as she did. Caroline had been a witness to the mortifying series of events that ended with Susanna losing her betrothed and her best friend in one fell swoop.

  Susanna half ran toward the nursery as if she could leave her own thoughts behind. Maybe she could not, but she could smother them by keeping busy.

  The cheerful voices bursting out of the day nursery drew her in. She heard more chatter from upstairs. The Cothaire nursery had rooms on two floors. They were connected by a staircase that also went down to the kitchen to make it easier to deliver food to the children. Both levels were identical, but the lower one was for playing and lessons. Also, the children would have their meals in the day nursery. The night nursery upstairs would have beds for the children. A separate room, connected by a doorway, was for the nurse.

  When she entered the day nursery, it was a busy hive of women washing down walls and mopping floors. Greetings were called to her, but the women continued their work and their conversations.

  Mrs. Hitchens walked toward her, wiping her hands on a cloth. “The nursery rooms will be as clean as a new pin in no time at all. Once that is done, the men can come in and fix
the stairs and windows. The children can be settled in soon after that. I know those sweet lambs will appreciate having a place where they can play without worry that they will hurt themselves or break something.”

  “I trust Mrs. Ford has prepared some special food for our helpers.”

  “For them to enjoy here and packages to take home so their families can enjoy the cold roasted chicken supper, as well. They are baking cakes to send with our volunteers.” Mrs. Hitchens smiled. “Isn’t it a blessing how six small children can bring the village together like this?” She lowered her voice as she added, “Even Mrs. Thorburn seems to be in an unusually good mood. She has only complained half the time.”

  Susanna laughed quietly, not wanting to draw attention to their conversation. For as long as she could recall, Mrs. Thorburn and Mrs. Hitchens had been at daggers drawn. She had no idea what had begun the feud, but other than in church, the two women seldom were in the same room. Even now, Mrs. Hitchens was in the day nursery and Mrs. Thorburn must be upstairs.

  “It appears,” Susanna said, “that you have everything under control here, Mrs. Hitchens. With the progress you are making, it would be a good idea to see what furniture is stored in the attic. There may be some pieces we can use. I would like to get the children sleeping in beds rather than on pallets.”

  “I could have my men rig up some hammocks if there are not enough beds in the attic to go around.” A deep laugh halted the women in the midst of their tasks.

  She spun to discover Captain Nesbitt stood in the doorway. Her heart pounded so hard she was sure everyone in the abruptly silent room could hear.

  Oh my!

  * * *

  Drake had not anticipated his lighthearted comment would make everyone in the room, save for Lady Susanna, freeze. He nodded to the women, then looked at Lady Susanna.

  She stared at him for a moment before laughing. “What a jest, Captain!”

  “I was quite serious. If the hammocks hang just off the floor, the children can climb in and out by themselves.” He walked into the crowded nursery and measured a height off the floor that would be low enough for the younger ones. “Falling out would not be dangerous because they would be inches from the floor. In addition, I would guess that they would find sleeping in a hammock very amusing.”

  “Maybe too amusing.” She walked out into the hallway, and he followed while the women returned to their work. “I can already see Bertie pushing the twins until they all are swinging up to the ceiling.”

  “There is that.”

  Behind them, the buzz of voices was low and intense. He suspected his arrival was the primary topic of discussion. Or was it that he had gone with the earl’s daughter without explaining why he had come upstairs? He did not want to admit to the village ladies that he had hoped talking with Lady Susanna would help ease his frustration with the repairs on The Kestrel.

  His hopes that Lord Launceston might be able to give him some insight into the ongoing damage inflicted on his ship had been dashed. The earl had been shocked to hear about the race Drake and his crew had been in to keep ahead of what clearly was intentional destruction. His only suggestion had been to have The Kestrel leave Porthlowen and find another sheltered harbor.

  Drake refused to consider that. He was concerned that his ship might sink once it reached open sea. That was not the only reason he had hesitated to give such an order. He glanced at the lovely woman walking beside him along the corridor. Once he left Porthlowen, he would sever ties with her and the children. Yes, the Trelawneys would welcome him to call, but it would not be the same. The feeling that they were all working together to help the children would be gone.

  Lady Susanna reached for the latch on a door that looked like all the others in the corridor and smiled over her shoulder. “Your idea of hammocks is an idea I shall keep in mind if we don’t have enough sturdy beds. Sturdy is vital because I can already see Bertie, Gil and the twins jumping on the beds.” Her smile wavered. “Not that I would care if Lucy healed enough to join in.”

  “Aren’t you the one who told me to have faith?”

  She bristled. “It is not kind to throw one’s words, especially words spoken when exhausted and stressed, back in one’s face.”

  He had not realized how raw her emotions were. He put his hand out to close the door as she started to open it. “I was trying to give you hope. Must you misconstrue all I say?”

  “Only when you say something that is easy to misconstrue.”

  She faced him, and he realized how close they stood. Only the breadth of one of her small hands separated them. He should step away but could not make his feet obey him. Instead, he savored the scent drifting up from her hair. Apple blossoms, if he was not mistaken, an aroma that brought the first lush days of spring to mind.

  With her chin jutting toward him and her eyes snapping with indignation, she could have been the model for a ship’s figurehead. Even the greatest waves would quell before such a sight. A man would be a beefhead to ignore that warning. How he longed to be that fool and tip her lips beneath his! Her gaze softened, and those full lips parted in an invitation he ached to accept. Why had he not guessed before that she used her prickly tone when she felt most vulnerable? The sudden urge to protect her gripped him.

  A throat was cleared behind him, and Drake turned to see a footman standing in the corridor. The same footman who had intruded when Drake stood with Lady Susanna on the terrace, coming with the tidings that Lucy was waking.

  “Ah, Venton.” Her voice was a bit shaky, and Drake knew he was not the only one overpowered by that fragile connection between them. “What is it?”

  “Baricoat thought you might need some help in the attic.” Venton did not look in Drake’s direction.

  “He is right.” Lady Susanna opened the door.

  Beyond it was a shadowed staircase. When she motioned for the footman to come with her, Drake wondered if she expected him to come along, too. Perhaps accepting Venton’s help was her way of letting Drake know that she did not need his.

  And to own the truth, she did not. He had never met a woman more capable of facing every challenge and besting it than Susanna Trelawney.

  Yet, even knowing that, he trailed after her and the footman. He was not ready to return to his ship and his crew, who looked to him for answers to the mess they had found themselves in since their arrival in Porthlowen Harbor. Spending time finding beds for the children would let him accomplish something positive.

  At the top of the stairs, Drake stopped, staring around himself in amazement. The attic was not a great-open space. The warren of rooms and corridors was many times larger than all the holds on his ship. Every inch of it was crowded with cast-off furniture and wooden chests and smaller boxes.

  He heard skittering and guessed they had disturbed the attic’s usual residents. How many boxes and chests had been chewed by the mice and what damage had been done to the contents? The families he had known as a child would not have been able to imagine so many items being left to vermin. He doubted they could even envision a huge attic like this filled with so many boxes and crates.

  “The nursery furniture is stored in the third room on the left,” Lady Susanna was saying. “There are only three child-size beds from the nursery. We will have to look in the room across the hall to see if any of the bedsteads in there will be suitable for the children.”

  Drake edged around a stack of boxes that had yellowed labels on them. The ink had faded and was illegible. As he reached where Lady Susanna was peering into the room with the nursery furniture, he could not halt himself from asking, “Do you know what is in every room and box in the attic?”

  “Not every box.” A reluctant smile pulled at her mouth.

  “What can I do to help?”

  “While Venton is getting the small beds out of this room, why don’t we check the one across
the hall?”

  He motioned for her to lead the way. When she stopped without going in, he looked past her and understood. The room was chock-full of furniture parts. He saw styles that had been popular for the past three hundred years, and the thick dust suggested some of the pieces had been stored, undisturbed, for that long.

  Seeing what looked to be part of a low bed, he pushed his way into the room. Dust flew in every direction. He sneezed, sending up a new cloud. A second sneeze, then a third. Then he could not stop.

  Slender hands grasped his arm and tugged him out of the room. At the same time, Lady Susanna called to Venton not to touch anything until he opened a few of the windows set high beneath the eaves.

  “Are you able to breathe?” she asked.

  “Barely,” Drake replied. He tried to chuckle, but the sound came out as a wheeze.

  “Do you need to sit?”

  “That might not be a bad idea.” He perched on the edge of a box. When it creaked, he stood quickly. That brought on more coughing.

  Again her slim fingers clasped his sleeve. This time, she steered him to a different box. He sat, and it held beneath him. He relaxed as much as he could when she stood so close.

  “Forgive me,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “I should not have assumed downstairs that you were mocking me when you urged me to have faith.”

  “I meant it.”

  “I know you did. It is just...” She walked to a window and opened it, letting in fresh air.

  “Just what?” he prompted.

  He was sure she heard him, but she changed the subject and began discussing how she planned to make a wonderful place for the children to sleep. His tongue burned with the question he could not speak: Who had hurt her so deeply that she believed the worst of him?

  Lady Susanna gave a sudden gasp and squeezed between two boxes to disappear from sight.

  Curious, Drake stood and peered over the boxes. She knelt beside what looked like an odd sort of cabinet. She had the doors open, and inside was a miniature collection of rooms.