by Jo Ann Brown
A knock came at the door, and Susanna smiled as she saw her older brother in the doorway.
“Arthur, I was just thinking about you,” she said.
He nodded a greeting as he walked in. “I wanted to see if the interview went well.”
“It did. Miss Oliver has accepted my offer of employment.”
“Really? Did you mention that the job might end tomorrow?”
Susanna frowned. “Of course I did. I would not be false about such an important issue.”
“And she still was willing to take the job.”
“Yes.”
“Why? Did you ask her?”
“I did, and she said she wanted to live in this part of Cornwall.”
He raised a brow. “An easy answer.”
“You sound as if you believe she is lying. Have you spoken with her?”
“No, but I find it highly unusual that an experienced nurse with an excellent recommendation would settle for such uncertainty.”
Putting her hand on his arm, she said, “Arthur, she was forthcoming in her answers to my questions.”
“No one is completely forthcoming.”
“That is cynical, even for you. Is something wrong?”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Forgive me, Susanna. I should have known you would be thorough. I need to leave these matters in your competent hands. I have more than enough to keep me busy.”
“And if,” came their sister’s voice from the doorway as she walked in with Joy in her arms, “we have any worries about the new nurse, we can ask Mrs. Hitchens to keep a close eye on her. Or, better yet, Baricoat. He could sneak up on a hawk.”
“Where is Gil?” Susanna asked, glad for Caroline’s arrival, which had lightened the conversation. Something was bothering Arthur, but he clearly was not willing to explain now. She thought of his comments about nobody being completely forthcoming. So often, he kept everything he was thinking to himself.
“Greeting Captain Nesbitt.”
“He is here?” She whirled to look toward the door before she could halt herself.
Caroline laughed. “I don’t recall you being this excited when we have other callers.”
“Hush!” She did not want Captain Nesbitt to hear her sister’s teasing. He might get the wrong idea.
Or would it be the right idea? Her heart no longer seemed to be listening to good sense, and it had begun an excited dance when Caroline mentioned his name. She needed to get it—and the rest of herself—under control before she encountered Captain Nesbitt.
She wished she knew how.
* * *
Gil was babbling about his baby sister while Drake carried him toward the room where Lady Caroline had told him to bring the little boy. Drake admired how devoted he was to his sister. Would he have been the same if he had a younger sister of his own? As a child, he had dreamed of having a real sibling. The fraternity aboard ship had fulfilled that longing for brothers, and he could not imagine staying ashore. Not since his dream of becoming the proud owner of a fleet of ships had taken shape.
Yet when he saw these adorable children with Lady Susanna, his thoughts turned to a family of his own. A true family, not just a crew with the common goal of getting their cargo from one place to another profitably.
A deep male voice came out of a room ahead, silencing Gil. The little boy looked at Drake as they heard “Captain Nesbitt? Isn’t he the master of that listing ship in our harbor? I thought it would be gone long before now, but it is still cluttering up our pier.”
He recognized the voice. It belonged to Lady Susanna’s older brother, the viscount.
“Arthur, that is not kind.” That was Lady Susanna, and warmth spread through him as she came to his defense. “He not only rescued the children—”
“And dumped them on our doorstep.”
“But he helped to fight the fire that destroyed the stable.”
“True, but the stable was lost anyhow.”
“Surely,” said Lady Caroline, her voice sharp, “you do not blame him for that.”
“Of course not, but...”
Drake was curious what else Lord Trelawney might have said if Gil had not let out a squeal about his baby. Drake put the child down. Gil ran immediately to Lady Caroline.
Lady Susanna stood by her sister, her color high. Even though she wore a pale yellow gown beneath a practical white apron, her stance suggested she was a warrior ready to go into battle on his behalf. She had never looked so beautiful.
“Captain Nesbitt,” she said with an unsteady smile, “do come in and join us.”
As he walked in, Lord Trelawney asked, “How are the repairs on your ship coming, Captain?”
“Slowly,” he said.
“That seems the situation in too many places, I fear.”
“Which is why we appreciate your help with the children more than ever, Captain,” Lady Caroline added, flashing another frown at her brother.
“It has been my pleasure.” He said nothing more as Lord Trelawney excused himself and left.
“Pay him no mind,” Lady Caroline said. “He has been extra grumpy ever since the fire.” Her smile faded. “He takes too much upon himself without asking for help.”
“Sounds like a family trait.”
Both women laughed, and Lady Susanna invited him to sit while they discussed what had brought him to Cothaire. Lady Caroline chose a comfortable chair where she could lean her elbow on one arm as she continued to hold Joy, as she had just about every time Drake had seen her.
When Lady Susanna chose the settee facing her sister, he sat beside her, leaving enough room for propriety’s sake. He was unsure if he could have kept from draping his arm over her shoulder if he were closer to her. If only Morel had not interrupted them on the beach after church...
“To what do we owe the pleasure of your call this afternoon?” asked Lady Susanna.
Did she smile a bit more sweetly when she said “pleasure of your call”?
“Since the failure of our experiment with the jolly boat, I have been trying to think of other sites that might help bring back Lulu’s memories.” He clasped his hands between his knees and leaned forward so he could look at both women at the same time. “If you recall, the note mentioned that the person or persons who put the children in the jolly boat wanted to make sure they did not grow up to work in a mine. Maybe we should visit a mine.”
“There are certainly plenty along the north shore of Cornwall,” Lady Susanna said. “There is one not far from here. It is on Jacob Warrick’s land.”
“Is that Lord Warrick?” He had heard a few rumors about the eccentric baron who had what people called outlandish, newfangled ideas about mining.
“Yes, he inherited the title from his uncle along with the estate. There are more than a dozen mines still being worked, though he has closed several because groundwater was rising faster than it could be pumped out. I am sure, if you ask, he will allow us to visit one of the mines.”
Lady Caroline shuddered. “I cannot imagine why you would want to take poor Lulu to such a wretched place.”
“Only because the note mentioned the mines,” he said, choosing his words with care. “Because the person who wrote it was so adamant about keeping the children out of the mines, it is possible the note writer is from a mining village and truly knows how hard that life is.”
“It is possible that the children will recognize someone, or someone will know them,” Lady Susanna said, her voice unsteady. “By going there, we could be making the first step toward reuniting them with their families.”
“Yes.” Lady Caroline lowered her eyes, but not fast enough.
Drake saw pain in them. Like her sister, Lady Caroline had taken the children into her heart as well as into their home. To return them to their
families now, even though she knew it was the right thing to do, would be difficult.
“Excellent.” He set himself on his feet. “We will need a cart large enough to carry all the children.”
“All?” breathed Lady Caroline.
Her sister stood and went to her. Putting a consoling hand on Lady Caroline’s shoulder, Lady Susanna said, “We cannot know if the children are from the same place. Having one child recognized may be the key to finding out the truth about all of them.”
Lady Caroline rose, mumbled something and rushed out with Gil’s little legs pumping to keep up.
Drake sighed, then heard Lady Susanna do the same. As he started to apologize, she waved his words aside.
“My sister realizes this is something we have to do.” Tears bubbled into her eyes. “We both do, but it is not easy.”
“I know.”
“Yes, I think you do.” She tilted her head back to look up at him as she said, “Thank you for another good idea, Captain.”
“Will tomorrow be too soon for us to take the children to Lord Warrick’s mine? Benton has the day watch, so I can spare the time to come with you.”
“Don’t you have to find a cargo for your ship?”
“I may find what I am seeking when we call on Lord Warrick.”
“I wish you good luck with that, Captain. Now, if you will excuse me, I will see to arranging—”
He put out a hand to halt her from turning away. At her astonished expression, he resisted the urge again to apologize. This time for his boldness. Instead, he said, “We are working together to help the children. They have shortened our names to nicknames. Would it offend you if we followed their lead and set aside such formal address?”
“You want me to call you Cap?”
“I had hoped you would consider calling me Drake.”
A dozen emotions fled across her face, both positive ones and negative ones. Again he had to fight the temptation to ask her the name of the person who had betrayed her trust. Had she loved a blackguard who had treated her as heartlessly as Ruby had him?
“I don’t think that is a good idea.” She whirled away and rushed to the door. “Good day, Captain Nesbitt.”
Then she was gone, and he was left wondering if one simple request had ruined everything.
Chapter Ten
Angry voices echoed through the forward hold. Angry and frustrated.
Drake understood both emotions too well. Why had Lady Susanna turned down his reasonable request as if he had asked her to elope with him to Gretna Green? As much time as they spent together in their efforts to help the children, addressing each other with their titles had become tiresome. The children called her Susu, but with him, she was as correct and strict as a patroness at Almack’s.
And shouldn’t he be relieved? As soon as The Kestrel was seaworthy, he could leave Porthlowen and Susanna Trelawney far behind. No tearful farewells, no worry that he would be betrayed again by another faithless woman.
She is not faithless, his conscience argued.
No, she was not. She had a strong faith, so strong that it awed him and made him question his own casual relationship with God. He did not want questions in his life. He wanted his only worry to be if the wind would get them to the next port on time.
Pushing his uneasy thoughts aside, a skill he had perfected in the years since he had heard of Ruby’s betrayal, Drake went belowdecks to see why there was so much shouting. His crew knew he would not tolerate fistfights on The Kestrel, but he accepted that there were times when they had to let off steam before they burst like an overheated engine.
Drake could not believe it. More holes had been found deep in the hold. As his crew set to work patching and ridding the hold of water, he examined several.
He frowned. The holes they had repaired after the battle with the privateers had been jagged with splinters sticking into the ship from where the shot had struck the hull. These newly discovered holes were smoother.
Kneeling in the briny water, he ran his fingers over the hull. He could see no clue to what had caused the damage. He raised his fingers and rubbed them together. Was that sawdust he felt or something else? The hold had been filled with grain, and the chaff had not been cleaned out while the crew concentrated on fixing the ship.
Drake rinsed his fingers, then stood. He gestured for his first mate to follow him up on deck. There they could talk without every ear listening.
Benton outlined what he intended to do once he found out who was behind the damage. It started with drawing and quartering and got worse from there.
Paying him no mind, because his first mate was not a vengeful man, Drake stared across the harbor to where fishermen were dragging their boats onto shore. Others repaired nets, and a trio of old men sat smoking pipes, the smoke a straight line from the pipes as the bracing wind snatched it away.
“Tell me what you think is causing this damage,” Drake said.
“Maybe the largest woodworm in history has taken up residence in The Kestrel.”
“I am not in the mood for weak attempts at humor.”
Benton folded his arms on the rail and looked toward the village. “All right. I’ll be serious. If we don’t leave soon, the lads may jump ship. They are too bored. Several were asking if they could have leave for the parson’s wedding so they could look forward to going to the celebration.”
“The banns have been read just once. I hope we are not still moored to this pier in a fortnight.” He turned to watch the crew going up and down the ladder to the front hold. “We cannot pretend that these holes are caused by French shot. There was no damage in that hold when we arrived in Porthlowen Harbor, and now it is riddled with holes. I had thought that perhaps the holes might be caused by some embers thrown against the hull, but these newest ones were drilled.”
“From which side?”
“The inside.”
Benton shook his head. “Impossible. No one is allowed on board without permission.”
“I doubt our woodworm, as you call him, is going to ask permission.”
“Who would want to keep us in Porthlowen?”
“Maybe one of those village lasses who has her eyes on our crew?”
He shook his head. “The lads like to flirt, but they will be just as happy to flirt in another harbor. Other than you, Captain, nobody seems to be building any ties here.”
“If you speak of the children—”
“Not only of the children.”
Drake pushed back from the rail and crossed the motionless deck. He would not discuss Lady Susanna with his first mate.
“There is no choice but to divide up the crew into thirds,” he said, “so we can have more men on watch day and night.”
“I will see to that, Captain, though perhaps we should have four teams, so the lads have a break.”
“A good suggestion. Having them fall asleep on watch defeats our purpose. Select which men will be on which shift and have the list ready for me when I get back.”
“Get back?”
Drake explained the plan to take the children to the mining village. Benton’s nose wrinkled in disgust.
“I know,” Drake said. “We have put off going there, hoping that the children don’t belong there. But we have found no sign of them being from a fishing village or a farm settlement. I hope they don’t belong there, either, because I do not want to consign any of them to such a life, but we have to know the truth.”
“Why?”
“Because...”
Why did they have to know the truth? The children had been sent away for a reason, so why were he and the Trelawneys trying to take them right back to where their journey began? He thought of Lady Susanna’s sparkling eyes when the children made her laugh and how a little baby was banishing her sister’s grie
f. Should they keep looking or leave well enough alone?
Which should it be? Would stopping be selfish or doing what is best for the children?
His steps faltered as he realized he had aimed those questions at God. Why was he calling on Him now after so many years? Did he really expect a response?
The questions roiled through his head, and he stamped away, leaving his first mate to stare after him. He could not give Benton an answer to his question when he did not have any for his own.
* * *
One look at Captain Nesbitt’s face when he arrived at Cothaire, and Susanna knew he was in an evil temper. When she greeted him, he grumbled like a bear with a sore head.
That did not halt Lulu from squealing his name and holding out her arms to him. He picked her up and, after being introduced to the new nurse, placed her beside Miss Oliver in the cart before helping Moll and Bertie and Toby in. The nurse wisely separated the two boys before they could begin pinching and poking each other.
Caroline had insisted that neither Gil nor Joy go on the outing. Gil was sneezing and had a runny nose, and her sister did not want to risk his health on what might be a fruitless journey. Even though Susanna believed her sister was grasping for any excuse to keep the children close, she had agreed to let them remain at Cothaire.
Not waiting for Captain Nesbitt to assist her, Susanna climbed onto the narrow plank at the front of the cart. She picked up the reins and waited for him to settle himself beside her.
The cart had never seemed so cozy before. Captain Nesbitt’s broad shoulders brushed against her as she drove out of the stable yard and onto the road to the village. She focused her eyes on the horses pulling them.
Or she tried to.
Her gaze kept slipping to the man beside her. He appeared far more comfortable than she was. One elbow rested on the edge of the seat, and his left boot balanced on his right knee. He had taken care that the sole did not brush her skirts.