Promise of a Family

by Jo Ann Brown

  Both the blacksmith and his assistant stiffened at the parson’s words but kept working.

  “Have the French been raiding villages along the shore?” Drake asked.

  “There are rumors, but none can be substantiated. Yet people fear the French will come ashore as they did in Fishguard years ago. They were beaten back, and I cannot imagine any Cornishman who would not fight to protect his house and family.”

  “Or Cornishwoman.”

  The parson chuckled. “If you are referring to my sisters, I can tell you that they are not unique here. The winds and storms off the sea strengthen us.”

  As if on cue, Lady Susanna came toward them. She had made an effort to clean the soot from her face, but smudges clung to her eyebrows and along one side of her jaw. Even that could not detract from her elegance.

  “Raymond,” she said, “Papa and Arthur would like to speak with you in the dining room.” She smiled sadly. “It is the only room free of glass right now.”

  “Excuse me, Captain.” The parson turned on his heel and walked toward the closest door into the great house.

  “How are you faring?” she asked Drake.

  “Not much worse for the wear. You?”

  “Better now that I have survived the dressing-down Papa gave me for going into the stable to bring Pansy out.”

  Drake laughed without humor. “I am glad he did that because it saves me from having to tell how caper-witted you acted.”

  “I was not the only one. You went into the stable, too.”

  “After you! That is something else entirely.”

  She raised her chin, but her pose was ruined when she coughed. She waved aside his offer of water. Once she regained control of herself, she asked, “If one of your crew had been in there, wouldn’t you have risked everything for him?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No but. Pansy has been my horse for almost ten years. I could not leave her to the fire.”

  Drake understood what she did not say. The horse had been a constant in her life when her mother and her brother-in-law died. And there was the event that brought a deep sadness to her eyes. He knew if he asked in the village, someone would explain what had happened, but the idea of going behind her back to gossip about her left a sour flavor in his mouth.

  “If you have time, Captain Nesbitt, Papa would like to express his thanks for your help.”

  He started to answer, then stared at what was left of the stable. The latest holes in The Kestrel’s hull seemed to be appearing in groups as if someone had tossed a handful of embers against it. Had any of the crew looked for scorch marks on the wood? He had not. To find even one might be a clue to how the holes had been made and could lead him to the person or people who were trying to keep him and his crew from sailing from Porthlowen.

  Parson Trelawney had spoken of the villagers who feared the French would sail into the cove to finish what their imprisoned fellow sailors could not. What if others in Porthlowen saw his ship as possible defense against the raiders? He should excuse himself and return to his ship to discuss these uncomfortable theories with Benton.

  “That is not necessary, Lady Susanna,” he said, knowing he owed her an answer.

  “My father thinks it is.” She put her hand on his arm, startling him. “Captain Nesbitt, please do this for him.”

  “And for you?”

  She lowered her eyes. Before she could draw her hand away, he placed his over it, holding it in place.

  “My lady?”

  When she raised her eyes toward his once more, he was not surprised to see her competent mask had fallen away to reveal the sorrow beneath. In little more than a whisper, she said, “My father’s infirmity limits what he can do. Once he could oversee Cothaire from the back of a horse. Now he seldom can leave the house.”

  “It is a good man who has a daughter who loves him so much that she thinks of helping him keep his pride even when life has laid him low.” He put a crooked finger under her chin so she could not look away when he added, “And a good daughter whose thoughts focus on making her father feel useful and needed.”

  “Will you speak with him?”

  Ignoring his eagerness to check his ship for scorched spots, he nodded. “Of course, my lady.”

  “Thank you, and thank you for coming with us to the shore on Sunday to see if we can loosen some of Lucy’s frozen memories. It is a good friend who is willing to share such ideas as well as his time.”

  “Friend? Is that how you see me?”

  He had pushed too hard. She drew back, looked away and smoothed her hands over her smoke-stained apron. With a prim farewell, she hurried toward the house. He watched her go, as he had so often. He wished he knew how to convince her to stay when he knew he could not remain in Porthlowen much longer.

  Chapter Eight

  Drake entered the small stone church along with his first mate and several members of his crew. Even though the sun was eclipsed by clouds, the light coming through the four stained-glass windows along the sides and the large one behind the altar splashed colors onto the simple wooden pews.

  He looked at the ceiling. Oak rafters rose to a peak over the center aisle. Flowers and vines had been carved into two of them, but otherwise they were as plain as the ribs of his ship. He grinned as he noted that no cracks appeared to warn him that the roof was about to collapse because he had entered the church.

  Heads turned as he followed Benton toward the front since the rear pews were occupied. When he saw smiles, he was startled. While the residents of Porthlowen were willing to help obtain supplies to repair The Kestrel, they had treated the crew like unwelcome outsiders.

  Now smiles suggested he was a prodigal son, being drawn back into the fold. The moment he and Benton had pulled the jolly boat up on the shore, he and his whole crew had been redeemed in the villagers’ eyes. That the ship’s crew had helped fight the fire at Cothaire made them even more a part of the village.

  He sighed as he thought how disappointed he had been when he went to speak with Lord Launceston. Lady Susanna had not been in the room. Only her older brother, the very correct Lord Trelawney. Her sister and even the parson and his betrothed had wandered in to bring their father updates. Of Lady Susanna there had been no sign, and that surprised her family as much as it did him. It was unlike her to be absent during such an important discussion.

  The earl had sent a message to the ship before Drake left for church. It was straightforward—so straightforward he suspected Lady Susanna had written it. In the past three days, no progress had been made in learning anything about how the fire had started in the stable. Whether something exploded to trigger the fire or the fire itself had started first, no one seemed to know. Lord Trelawney insisted there had been nothing in the stable that could cause a detonation. The head groom had confirmed that. It could not have been an accident.

  A quick search of The Kestrel did not turn up any scorched wood, but many of the spots had been sanded when the boards were plugged. He had no proof one way or the other, so he was as stymied as the earl.

  Sitting in the second row, Drake heard a low rush of whispers. He turned and saw Lady Susanna coming in along with her sister and the children, who waved to people they recognized. So many of the villagers in recent days had come to help at Cothaire that the children had met just about everyone in the church.

  His gaze settled on Susanna. Her gown had tiny blue flowers on a cream background, and she wore a small straw bonnet with a matching blue ribbon. Her cheeks were a lush pink, and he guessed she had struggled persuading the little ones to hold each other’s hands. Her own were encased in gloves that might once have been white but were stained with chocolate.

  She glanced in his direction, and her eyes widened. Had she expected that he would not come to church as he had agreed? Or maybe she had assumed
he would meet her on the beach once church was over. As she looked away, he noticed gray circles under her eyes. She was surrounded by uncertainty, which must be especially difficult for a woman who preferred to have everything under control.

  When Gil ran over to where the Winwood sisters sat with Miss Rowse and her assistant, Peggy, he crowed something about his baby. That brought soft laughter from every pew. Lady Caroline took his hand and urged him to come with her toward the family’s pew, which was marked by the Launceston crest.

  “They like us?” asked Mollie, pointing to the Winwood sisters.

  Lady Susanna smiled. “Yes, they are twin sisters. Just like you and Lucy.”

  “I like them,” the little girl announced, and more laughter rippled through the church.

  “We like you, too,” one Miss Winwood said. He believed it was Miss Hyacinth Winwood.

  “Indeed, we do,” added the other Miss Winwood.

  Mollie pleaded to sit with the Winwood sisters, but Lady Susanna told her that they could spend time with Miss Hyacinth and Miss Ivy after the service. That calmed the little girl before she could give in to tears.

  “I hope we do not have such antics every Sunday,” muttered a female voice behind him. “I may be the only one who has not forgotten that this is God’s house, not an orphanage.”

  He did not have to turn. He recognized Mrs. Thorburn’s cool tones. He considered mentioning that such words did not show Christian kindness. He could only imagine how she would respond to that.

  Hearing a thump, he looked past Mrs. Thorburn’s pursed lips to where two men were helping Lord Launceston into the church. His left foot was wrapped. Drake stepped out of the pew, motioning to Benton. He and his first mate took over from Lord Trelawney and another man, who must have carried the earl from his carriage. The older man could not put any weight on his swollen foot.

  “Anywhere is fine, Captain,” Lord Launceston said. In spite of his obvious pain, he chuckled. “It appears the family pew is overflowing. One does not expect one’s family to increase so abruptly.”

  “Watch his foot there, Benton.” Drake guided the earl into a nearby pew, which was hastily vacated by a younger couple who moved to the pew across from where Drake and his first mate had been sitting.

  They assisted him to sit. Going to where about a dozen kneeling cushions had been stacked, Drake brought four back to prop under the earl’s foot so he could stretch out his left leg at a comfortable angle.

  “An excellent solution,” the earl said, the strain on his face easing. “Sometimes it takes a newcomer to find a solution to an old problem.”

  “I would be happy if I could solve your new problem, my lord.”

  The earl motioned for him to sit with him while Benton returned to the pew near the front and Lord Trelawney went to speak with his sisters. Quietly, the earl said, “I assume you mean the children. How goes the search for information on them?”

  He listed where he had sent inquiries throughout western Cornwall and the disappointing response. No one knew of six missing children or had any idea why they had been put in a jolly boat. “You could say we have been lucky, even though it has been only bad luck so far.”

  Chuckling again, Lord Launceston scanned the church before his gaze focused on Drake once more. “I do not believe in luck, Captain. I believe in the will of God. When the time is right for the truth to be known, you shall find it.”

  “I wish I could be as sure.”

  “No wonder you get along so well with Susanna. You are two of a kind, trying to control the unfolding of the world in God’s time rather than accepting that everything happens for a reason. Maybe a reason only God is privy to, but a reason nonetheless.”

  A twinge of something that felt like longing pinched at Drake. He admired the faith that was as much a part of the Trelawney family as their love for each other. But it was a disquieting reminder that he had not had either. Now...he did not know how to respond to the earl, and he was glad to be spared by excusing himself to return to his own pew when a door opened near the pulpit, signaling the beginning of the service. When he walked past Lord Trelawney, he received a curt nod. Was the man ever anything but deadly serious?

  Drake realized the man who had entered through the door by the pulpit was not Raymond Trelawney. This parson was older. His silver hair was painted by the light coming through the stained-glass windows.

  He was startled to see Parson Trelawney sitting with his betrothed, Elisabeth, across from his sisters. Was the parson unwell? He looked quite hale, but there must be some reason why Raymond Trelawney had stepped aside to offer his pulpit to a man who introduced himself as Parson Lambrick.

  Drake rose as the others did for the first hymn. He was grateful that it was one he recalled from the short time he had attended church regularly. As the voices lifted around him, he smiled at Lucy, who had turned around to wave at him. She called out, “Cap!” as the song ended. Gentle laughter came from all around them, save for Mrs. Thorburn’s sniff.

  When they sat, Lucy refused, calling out to him again. He held out his arms. Lady Susanna gave him a rueful smile as she passed Lucy to him.

  He set the child on his knee and put his finger to his lips. She nodded, abruptly as solemn as if she stood at the pulpit. She leaned her head against his chest and, within seconds, was asleep with her thumb in her mouth. Her other arm wrapped around his, trusting he would keep her close.

  He looked at his first mate, who gave him a wide grin and a wink. Benton clearly thought it was funny to see his captain cradling a little girl, but Drake enjoyed her nestled close to his heart.

  Lady Susanna glanced at them. A gentle smile lit her face. She reached back and stroked Lucy’s hair. The motion seemed to link the three of them in a special moment when time stood still. On one thing, he and Lady Susanna agreed wholeheartedly: they would do the best they could to make sure the children were safe and loved.

  When she looked at the pulpit, he turned his attention to Parson Lambrick. He understood why there was a substitute when Parson Lambrick began reading the banns for the marriage of Raymond Trelawney and Elisabeth Rowse. Shifting his gaze toward where the couple sat, he was startled that nobody else was looking at them. Instead, every eye seemed focused on the pew in front of him. There was a soft intake of breath when the parson stated the announcement was the first reading of the banns that would be repeated two more times before the couple could wed.

  What was going on? Why was the congregation acting as if the very words drove a dagger into each of their guts? Even Mrs. Thorburn had gasped behind him.

  Ask Lady Susanna. At that thought, he looked at where she sat in front of him. His eyes widened as he noted the stiff tension across her shoulders and realized that the congregation’s attention was on her and her sister.

  Beside him, Benton whispered, “What is amiss?”

  Drake gave him a stern glance. The time for such a discussion was not during the church service. Did this have something to do with the pain Lady Susanna tried to mask?

  Raymond Trelawney went to the pulpit to lead the rest of the service. He thanked the other parson, who took a chair beside the pulpit.

  Putting his hands on either side of the pulpit, Parson Trelawney smiled at his congregation. “I would like to begin with a reading from the fifth chapter of Ephesians.” His voice resonated off the sounding board hanging over the pulpit. “‘Now are ye light in the Lord: walk as children of light; for the fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness and righteousness and truth.’” He raised his eyes and smiled at the congregation. “When we do good, we do it in God’s name, and we can feel His hand upon our hearts. We walk closest with the Lord when we heed the lesson to do unto others as we would like them to do unto us, when we do something for someone else without the thought of reward.”

  Each word took aim at the wall Drake had built to p
rotect his too-oft disillusioned heart. He tried to persuade himself that the parson was not speaking only to him. Other heads nodded in agreement. Maybe the lesson was meant for them.

  “But there are rewards,” the parson went on. “The ones we find are beyond what we can imagine. Rewards of love and the satisfaction of achieving something that is not measured in pounds and shillings but in joy.” Parson Trelawney continued sharing his thoughts on how goodness needed to come from the heart and from the soul, not simply be an appearance of good deeds and kindness.

  The words spoke to Drake as if they were the answer to a question he had asked. Or the answer to a prayer he had not even known was lying quiescent deep in his heart, waiting for him to send it forth.

  As he bowed his head, his chin brushing Lucy’s soft hair, he listened to the parson lead them in the morning’s final prayer. Thoughts whirled through his mind, but he was not ready to examine the questions they posed.

  The worshippers stood and began to go toward the door to the porch. Many of them stopped to greet Lord Launceston and express how they were praying for his pain to ease. Drake was impressed that he thanked each one by name. It was another indication of how closely connected the lives in Cothaire and the village were.

  “Good morning, Captain Nesbitt, Mr. Benton,” said Lady Susanna as she reached to take Lucy.

  “Cap!” An excited voice came from beside her. “We go beach now. Go play. Fun, fun.”

  He was surprised at how Mollie prattled while Lucy watched with her thumb in her mouth. It was unsettling. Before the accident, Lucy had been the chatterbox. It was as if they had changed places.

  Stepping aside to let Benton out, Drake motioned for Lady Susanna and her sister and the children to precede him. They emerged into the breezy day. The clouds had blown away, and the sun turned the waves to diamonds. The church was set at the inner curve of the cove. With the tide out, The Kestrel was not the only vessel balanced on her keel. Fishing boats were moored to long ropes connected to iron rings driven into the rock beneath the sand. The fresh salt air tantalized him.