by Jo Ann Brown
But he did not say a word to her. She could understand why he was furious with her. His request to address each other more informally had been a reasonable one. After all, she referred to him as Cap when she spoke to the children. Yet, the formal titles helped keep her heart in line. Even to say his given name might give her heart carte blanche to open itself further to him.
She was grateful for a bit of traffic in the village because she had to concentrate on weaving the cart between other vehicles and pedestrians. From the back, the children called out with excitement to people they recognized, but Captain Nesbitt remained silent.
At the edge of the village, Miss Hyacinth Winwood stepped out of her stone cottage that was covered with rose vines. “Good afternoon,” she called.
Her sister, Miss Ivy, appeared at the door, then ducked back inside. A moment later, she rushed out, carrying a jar. She waved to the children. “Look at the lot of you! Out to take the fresh air on such a lovely afternoon.”
Susanna drew back on the reins, slowing the horses before they ran Miss Ivy down. The Winwood sisters took that as an invitation. Miss Ivy held the jar, and Miss Hyacinth plucked out candied fruit for each child. Within seconds, the children had sticky faces and fingers, and Miss Oliver was kept busy making sure they did not touch each other’s clothing.
“They look so much better with every passing day,” Miss Ivy said. “Soon they will be as chubby and rosy as babies should be.”
“Not a baby,” Toby said, jabbing his thumb against his chest. “Big boy. Raymond say so.”
“Well, if our parson says that, it must be true.” Miss Hyacinth winked at her sister, then added, “And now that I look at you again, I can see you boys are getting really big.” She looked back at Susanna. “Where are you bound?”
“To one of the mines on Lord Warrick’s estate.”
The two sisters exchanged an abruptly unhappy glance before Miss Hyacinth asked, “Why would you take them there? I thought the note said not to let them go into the mines.”
“How do you know what the note said?” Captain Nesbitt asked.
“Nothing stays secret long here.” Susanna chuckled to counteract the sudden suspicion in his voice. Though he had been in Porthlowen for weeks, he still did not understand how tightly knit the villagers were. What one of them knew everyone soon knew.
Miss Ivy said, “Miss Rowse probably mentioned something when we were in her shop. Was it something we should not know?”
“It is of little consequence,” Susanna replied, wanting to smooth any ruffled feathers. For both the sisters and Captain Nesbitt. “The note spoke of when the children were old enough to work in the mines, which they are not yet. We are going to the mine in the hope that seeing it will help Lulu remember her life before the fall down the stairs.”
“That accident was a horrible thing,” Miss Hyacinth said.
“We cried when we heard of it,” added her sister, who reached into the jar again to offer more candied fruit to the children.
Susanna halted her by saying that they must be going and promising to let the sisters know if anything came of the visit. As soon as the cart was out of earshot from the Winwood cottage, she said, “They mean well.”
“Tell Miss Oliver that,” Captain Nesbitt replied in the same dark tone.
Susanna laughed and heard a smothered chuckle from Miss Oliver in the back. Whether the nurse found his words amusing or she was laughing with the children, it did not matter. The happy sound propelled them up the steep road onto the moorlands beyond the village.
The land stretched out before them, undulating like a sea that had been frozen in midmotion. Few trees intruded upon the bare expanse of the moor. Its vast openness was unsettling. She was accustomed to the cliffs and thick hedges around her home. She found the sea off to her right a far more comforting sight.
As did Captain Nesbitt. She could tell when she saw him staring out at the water.
“You miss it, don’t you?” she asked.
“The sea? Of course I miss it. The life I chose for myself is out there, not here on land. If we could solve the puzzles of the children and my ship, The Kestrel could return to the work she is meant to do.” He paused and cocked an ear, trying to catch a sound.
She strained her own ears to hear over the excited youngsters. Upon the swift breeze came the distant baas of sheep that grazed on the common land. A dull repetitious thud sounded beneath the flock’s plaintive bleats.
“What is that?” asked Captain Nesbitt.
She glanced at him in astonishment. “I thought you were from Cornwall.”
“Actually, I grew up in Plymouth.”
“Oh, that explains why you don’t recognize the sound of a beam engine draining water from a mine. There are places on the moors where there are so many mines so close together that the racket is louder than a thunderstorm.”
“I look forward to seeing the beam engine.”
She shook her head. “I don’t look forward to seeing anything at the mine.”
Whether he agreed or not, he lapsed again into silence. They continued along the road that was little more than a rough track with grass between the wheel ruts. The monotonous beat of the beam engine grew louder as they neared the mine.
Beside her, Captain Nesbitt inhaled sharply. She understood why if he had never seen a beam engine house up close.
The stone building was more than three stories high, but no longer or wider than the dining room at Cothaire. A great round chimney rose another two stories above the peaked roof. Three windows, the uppermost one arched, marched up the outside as if following a staircase. The front wall was far thicker and more than half the height of the other walls. Over it, a great iron beam rocked in and out like a pendulum.
From the back, the children pointed in awe and began calling questions. Susanna stopped the cart and got down, going around to the back. She asked the children if they knew what the building and the beam were. Bertie suggested it was a great drum, which was why it made so much noise, while Toby, who was interested in shopkeeping from his time with Elisabeth, argued it had to be a way to lift large crates up to a high shelf. Lulu and Moll had their hands over their ears.
Captain Nesbitt lifted Lulu out while Miss Oliver gathered the children to take them for a walk toward the village that was set past the mine entrance. It was no more than a collection of several terrace houses that were only a shade lighter gray than the piles of refuse outside the mine. Susanna came around the wagon and took the hand Lulu held out to her.
As she walked with the little girl and Captain Nesbitt toward the door of the beam engine house that was up a wooden staircase with four steps, Susanna looked back to make sure none of the other children were following. She glanced down at Lulu and sighed. The little girl was gazing around herself with avid curiosity as if she had never seen a beam engine house.
Just as Captain Nesbitt was.
She wished she could be as fascinated, but it was not easy when she was torn between the hope of finding someone who recognized the children and wanting to keep them at Cothaire. She could not be selfish, even though her heart urged her to turn around and return home.
Lord, You brought these children into our lives for a reason. I cannot understand it, but You do. Help me accept Your will and do Your good work here in finding the homes where these children truly belong.
“This is astounding,” Captain Nesbitt said, raising his voice to be heard over the steady thump of the engine. “I know nothing about steam engines.”
“They have put some on ships.”
“So I have heard, but I look forward to feeling the wind driving The Kestrel once we repair the new damage.”
“You have had more damage?”
He looked over Lulu’s head to her. “Yes. New holes appear to have been drilled by some sort of auger. I
t will take us at least a week to plug them and make them watertight.”
“I am sorry.”
He gave her a faint smile. “I appreciate that.”
Susanna hesitated. Then taking a deep breath, she said, “As it appears you shall not be gone as quickly as you wish, maybe I should rethink the decision I made yesterday.”
“Which one?”
She was disappointed that he had forgotten their discussion. Sneaking a glance in his direction, she realized he had not. He simply had not forgiven her for turning down what he had seen as a reasonable request.
And it had been reasonable. She had been the unreasonable one.
Captain Drake Nesbitt was not Franklin Chenowith. He had not made her a promise that he would stay forever and then disappeared without explanation. She had known from the first second she met Drake that he would be leaving Porthlowen as soon as his ship was ready. He was honest with her, and there would be no surprises waiting to humiliate her again.
“About using our given names rather than our formal titles,” she said.
He stopped. Because he held Lulu’s other hand, she had to stop, too, so she did not jerk the little girl. He turned to her and slowly smiled.
Something deep within her uncurled in tempo with his lips tilting. Even though such thoughts were foolish, she could not keep from imagining those lips brushing hers.
“Will you call me Drake?” he asked.
“Yes, and you can call me Susanna if you wish.”
“Not Susu?”
“I restrict use of that name to those under the age of six.”
“No Susu?” asked Lulu, who had been listening intently.
“Susu for you,” Drake said with a laugh as he bent to tap the little girl’s nose. Looking up, he added with that enticing smile, “Susanna for me.”
Susanna liked the sound of that. Far more than she should.
Glancing away, she asked, “Shall we take a look at the beam engine? We may find Lord Warrick there because he enjoys tinkering with mechanical things.”
“Is it louder inside?” Drake asked.
She smiled when she noticed Lulu had her hands over her ears. Drawing one down, she took the child’s hand. Drake picked up the tiny girl, and she clamped her hands over her ears again and grinned.
Susanna led the way up to the door. She did not bother knocking to see if they could enter. No one inside would hear her.
Inside, she looked up at the beam. It was a great iron arm that rocked back and forth above the engine, raising and lowering the metal shaft that fit precisely into another section. The steam-powered engine moved faster than the water-driven one that had been in use when Susanna visited about five years ago. The beam rocked up and down every two to three seconds, never going faster, never slowing.
Drake held Lulu close as he peered over the wooden rail at the water being pumped from the mine. He said something to the child, and Lulu nodded eagerly, then pointed at the beam. He stepped back so she could not touch any part of the engine. He was so patient with the children.
She turned away before she started thinking what an excellent father he would be for her children. She had thought of Franklin in that role. He was a father now, but his children were not hers, too. Quieting her heart, she told it not to ask for the impossible.
“Lady Susanna?” came a muffled shout over the engine’s clattering, and she looked to her left to see Jacob Warrick coming to his feet from where he had been squatting by the engine. “What are you doing here?”
If one were to judge by appearances, Susanna would have guessed Lord Warrick taught at a college in Oxford. He wore brass spectacles that arched high over his nose. Even though the sides extended to fit tightly behind his ears, he pushed the front up his nose again and again.
Susanna did not know him well, but her father had visited the mine before his gout worsened. He told her Lord Warrick possessed a nimble and curious mind. The baron had invested in the mines on his estate, buying modern equipment to keep the miners as safe as possible when they were more than fifty fathoms below the surface.
She began to shout back an answer, but he motioned toward the door. Tapping Drake on the shoulder to get his attention, she followed Lord Warrick outside.
The baron asked, “Were you waiting for me long? I get so fascinated by the steam engine that I fail to notice most comings and goings in the beam engine house.”
“We were not there long,” she replied, then introduced the men before giving an abbreviated explanation of why they had come to the mine. When she finished, she asked, “Did she recognize any of it, Drake?”
“At first, I thought she might, but it was more excitement at the movement and the water than anything else.”
“You might want to try the village,” Lord Warrick said. “Someone there might know the children.”
“That is our next stop,” Drake replied, then looked at the mine entrance. It led into darkness. “How deep is the mine?”
“Close to ten fathoms at its deepest, but some of the other tunnels are shallower.” He glanced at the engine house. “Hmm...that sounds wrong. Excuse me.”
Though Susanna could hear nothing different in the beam’s rhythm, she stepped aside as Lord Warrick bolted up the stairs and inside.
“Did he say fathoms?” asked Drake, drawing her attention back to him.
She nodded. “The depth of a mine is measured in fathoms.”
“It is measured at six feet to a fathom like at sea?”
With a laugh, she answered, “Yes, so the distance the shaft has been dug should be easy for any sailor to calculate.”
“At six feet to a fathom, they have dug down sixty feet. Impressive.”
“I am sure Lord Warrick would arrange a tour for you if you wish.”
“No, thank you. I prefer measuring fathoms while on my ship rather than surrounded by unforgiving earth.” When he offered his arm, she slipped her hand onto it and smiled at Lulu, who kept her arms around his neck.
Together, they went to where Miss Oliver and the other children waited for them. The nurse aimed a silent question at them and sighed when Susanna shook her head. Like everyone at Cothaire, Miss Oliver wanted to discover why the children had come to Porthlowen.
The youngsters’ chatter faded as they reached the village. Their eyes got big, but, though Susanna watched and knew Drake and Miss Oliver did, as well, there were no signs that they had ever been in the village before. They did not react to anyone as they did in Porthlowen. Bertie, clearly frightened, edged closer to Susanna, and she lifted him into her arms.
“There is nothing bad here,” she whispered against his soft cheek.
“Want go home.” When he repeated the words more loudly, Toby and Moll picked up the refrain.
Hushing them, Susanna looked along the single street. On either side, the terrace houses each had eight doors. The apartments within must be tiny and cramped. The stone walls were stained with dust from the mine, but unlike her previous visit, glass glittered in the windows. Lord Warrick must have invested in the houses as well as the mine.
Women and children in clean but worn clothing peeked out doors and windows. Susanna called for them to come out. As they gathered around her, she asked, “Do you recognize any of these children?”
The women studied the youngsters’ faces. Then, one after another, they shook their heads. One asked if these were the children who had washed ashore in Porthlowen, and Susanna’s heart sank. If they had heard of the extraordinary events, then surely they would have come to her father’s house to share any information they had.
But they had none.
Lord, she prayed again, needing to remind herself over and over that the children were not in her life to stay, help me to keep from faltering on my journey toward the truth.
She thanked each of the women and was able to keep smiling when they wished her good luck in her quest, but tears burned the back of her throat. She had no idea where to try next. Should they take the children to some of the other coves along the northern shore? That seemed a waste of time when those villages had already been checked and no one claimed to know anything about the children.
As she turned to go back to the cart, Drake said, “Maybe their husbands might recognize one or more of the children.”
“That is unlikely. The women spend time with the children while the men are in the mine. Lord Warrick has maintained the tutwork system here.”
“Tutwork? What is that?”
“The miners bid for the right to excavate and extract the tin. Because those who bid the lowest are the pair who win, the men have to work long hours to find enough ore to pay for their supplies and provide for their families. Sometimes they do not get to spend much time with their families because they are working in shifts around the clock to dig out the ore.”
“It hardly sounds fair.”
“Maybe to you or me, but the miners were pleased when Lord Warrick announced he would continue the system. Other ways of bidding for the work can be far riskier.”
Drake looked back at the village as they helped the children into the cart. “There are plenty of other mines and other villages along the shore.”
“How far do you think that boat went before you rescued the children?”
He shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“No?” She pointed to where the boys were already wrestling and giggling. “How long do you think they would have sat still in the boat? Even assuming that their mothers gave them a sleeping draught to keep them quiet for as long as possible, which might have kept them from tipping over the boat for a few hours.”
“But none of the children showed any signs of taking a sleeping powder.”
“My point exactly.” She climbed up onto the seat. Once he was sitting beside her, she turned the cart around to return to Cothaire. “I doubt they were in the boat very long before you chanced to see them.”