Promise of a Family

by Jo Ann Brown

  “Long enough for them to drown with nobody watching them.”

  “We cannot be certain that nobody watched them until you reached the boat. Did you see anyone else on the strand?”

  His brow furrowed as he thought. “To own the truth, I don’t remember who was there before I brought the boat ashore. After that, it was crowded.”

  “It would be simpler if you could remember seeing someone.”

  “By now, you should know that nothing about these children and their secrets is simple.”

  She laughed. “No truer words were ever spoken.”

  “Unless,” he said, his voice fading to a whisper, “it is that I have enjoyed spending time with you.”

  “Me, too. I—”

  The cart jerked to one side. A loud crash came from the back. The children screamed. The horses whinnied and broke into a run. She fought the reins to hold them back. The cart bounced oddly beneath her. What had happened? She did not dare to risk looking back.

  Broad hands seized the reins in front of hers, pulling back sharply. Drake shouted to the horses to stop, his foot braced against the dash. More screams came from the back. The cart made a strange crunching sound and tilted to the left.

  Then they stopped. For a moment, there was silence; then shrieks erupted from the children.

  Susanna jumped down from the tilting cart and ran around the back. Miss Oliver was helping the children out and past the broken axle. The missing wheel was spinning to a stop on the road behind them. She ignored it as she hugged one child after another and assured herself that none had suffered more than a few small bumps and scrapes. Miss Oliver cradled her wrist but said she would be fine.

  Drake came back carrying the wheel, which he leaned against the higher end of the cart. Past clenched teeth, he said, “We were lucky. If we had gone a few more yards and been on that nearly vertical section down to Porthlowen, the cart would have been impossible to control.”

  “I’m grateful the accident happened when it did, then.”

  “Accident? Do you think this was an accident?” He pointed at the wheel where the metal had been smoothly cut almost the whole way through. Beyond that, the break was sharp and uneven. “Whoever did this miscalculated, and the wheel broke earlier than it was supposed to.” He looked at the nurse, who was kneeling on the ground with the children around her. “Because of Miss Oliver. Whoever did this did not figure that an adult would be riding in the back with the children. She is slender, but her weight was enough to break the wheel early.”

  “But who would want to injure the children?” She could not pull her gaze from the wheel.

  Drake’s finger against her cheek turned her eyes toward him. His expression was hard when he said, “That, my dear Susanna, is what I intend to find out before whoever did this tries something else.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Susanna put two more dolls on the pile of fabric and blankets, then wiped her hand against her sweaty brow and pushed her hair out of her eyes. Her fingers came away streaked with dirt. Her face must be covered, as well, but the past few hours of working in the stuffy attic had been fruitful.

  This morning, the children had been introduced to the freshly painted day nursery. The night nursery should be done early next week; then the children would sleep in comfortable beds instead of on pallets. They looked forward to it as much as Miss Oliver looked forward to having a space of her own.

  After seeing the cramped and dirty conditions in the mining village and knowing that Lord Warrick was trying to make them better, Susanna had wondered what she could do to help. She had thought about the extra toys and other things stored in Cothaire’s attic. Once she had Papa’s permission to collect as many as she wanted and have them delivered to the mining village, she went to work. She also had accumulated a smaller pile for Raymond to distribute to children in Porthlowen.

  Maybe Papa had seen that she needed to do something so she could forget the terrible events of the afternoon they went to Lord Warrick’s mine. The children had been terrified when the wheel came off the cart, and Miss Oliver had twisted her right wrist. She wore a sling to protect it, much to the delight of the girls, who thought it was the perfect way to carry a doll. So the nurse had created slings for them out of handkerchiefs.

  But who would want to injure the children? Was it the same person who had set them adrift? All along they had assumed that whoever did that was the one who wrote the note, begging for the children to be cared for. What if it had not been?

  Her mind went around and around pondering the questions, but never got any closer to an answer. There must be something she had overlooked, the something that made the puzzling pieces fit together in a logical answer.

  Coming up to the attic had been a way to escape her thoughts. She looked at the stack of blocks, dolls and wooden animals that she had made. It was her third. It would have to do...for now. Dust was glued to her skin. She could have had a footman help her move the crates, but she needed the hard work to silence her mind. Once she had a chance to speak with Lord Warrick, she would implore him to search his own attic to help the families who worked in his mines. For now, there were enough toys in the piles so the children in the mining village would receive one or two toys each.

  Susanna hurried down the stairs, sucking in the cooler air at the bottom. Knowing a visit to the stable would leave her covered with cinders and soot, she decided to check on the cleanup out there before she washed and changed. She slipped out a side door and was astonished to discover the sun was setting over the western cliffs. She had lost track of time in the attic. She needed to hurry if she wanted to be ready for the evening meal.

  As she rushed across the back garden, her hair bounced on her shoulders. It fell down her back as the last two pins tumbled out. She bent to pick them up and slid them into her apron pocket. Reaching up, she started to braid her hair to keep it out of her face.

  “Susanna!”

  Hearing Drake call her name, she looked down at her filthy dress and hands. She hastily twisted her hair into place, pulling the pins back out and hoping they would hold her hair in some semblance of a proper style. She thought of the streaks of dirt she had rubbed off her face. To speak with him when she was in such a sad condition was unthinkable, but rushing into the house when he was already walking toward her would be even ruder.

  She straightened and turned in his direction. All thoughts of retreat vanished as her eyes drank in the sight of his strength as the breeze brushed his shirtsleeves against his brawny arms. Without his coat, and with his waistcoat unbuttoned to float out to the side as he walked toward her, he was the picture of a man she would love to have in her life.

  If only...

  “Good evening, Drake,” she said, knowing she was setting herself up for more heartbreak if she followed her heart to him. After all, if she could not take control of her own heart, how would she keep other parts of her life in order? “I did not realize you were here.”

  “I wanted to check the cart again.”

  “Oh.” A sudden cold brushed across her skin as if she had been doused with ice water. “Did you find anything new?”

  “The wheels on the other side appear to be untampered with, though there are marks on the front wheel on that side of the cart. However, those may be nothing more than wear from the road. It is impossible to tell.”

  “Anything to tell you who might have done this?”

  He shook his head. “It had to be someone who had the proper tools, but that could be almost anyone in Porthlowen. Even the fishermen have very sharp knives that could slice through the axle if one had enough patience.”

  “Or wanted to damage the wheel enough.”

  “Yes.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “You look as if you have been digging ditches.”

  “I have been working in the attic.” She told hi
m what she had gathered and her plans to have the toys distributed. “I thought while I looked like a complete rump, I would check on progress with the stable.”

  “Nothing has changed. The men assigned to pull debris out of the ashes have been put to work strengthening the roof on the building to be used for the horses. Just in case someone gets the idea to attack Cothaire again.”

  She shivered when he said “attack,” but could not deny what the fire had been. “What about your ship? How are the repairs coming along?”

  “We have had no further damage since we set a guard on every deck.” Grim satisfaction matched his expression. “The repairs are slower than I would like, but we must make sure no leaks will sink her when we get to sea.”

  Another shiver ran an icy finger down her back. “What a horrible thought!”

  “I agree.” His smile returned. “Is there something less horrible we can discuss?”

  “I cannot promise it will be less horrible, but the next time I saw you, I was told to ask you to join us for dinner.”

  “Dinner?”

  “Caroline’s idea. She thought the conversation would be more productive if we were well fed.”

  He looked down at his salt-stained boots. “I am not dressed for such a gathering.”

  “It is en famille. The four of us, and you and Elisabeth. Papa has decided not to come down and asked me to send you his apologies. Will you join us?”

  * * *

  Drake was astonished how nice sharing a meal with family sounded. How many times he had dreamed of sitting down with a real family. To sit with a family that loved and respected one another and worked together for the good of the earl’s estate and Porthlowen. It was a heady thought. How many times during his childhood had he imagined doing just that, instead of sitting on a cold, wet kitchen floor eating what was left in the bottom of the pots? Not that the others in the family who had taken him in ate much better, but they supped together. Once he was old enough to feed himself, he was left to fend for himself in the kitchen. The first time he had to use his fists to defend himself occurred when a stray dog sneaked through the back door and tried to steal his food.

  How long had he dreamed of having a family of his own? He could envision himself sitting at the head of the table, and at the far end, where he could admire her beauty in the candlelight, would be his wife, a woman as lovely and charming and delightful as Susanna Trelawney.

  Have you lost your mind? What are you thinking? Such a life was not for him. Hadn’t he seen in the past that becoming closely involved with a woman led to waters with potential hidden shoals? He was a man of the sea, a man who someday would have multiple ships trading in and out of the ports of Cornwall and farther east. Susanna was a woman with deep roots in Porthlowen.

  “Will you join us, Drake?” The sound of his name on her lips was a treat he savored.

  “Yes, but I must change my clothes first.”

  “But—”

  “Do you intend to go into dinner looking as you do?” He laughed when she reached up to check what looked to be a hasty bun. “’Tis not your hair. You have a streak of dirt here.” He ran his finger along her forehead and felt a quiver. His quiver or hers, or both of them reacting to a simple touch? Knowing he was a fool but unable to halt himself, he asked, “Will you leave the smudge here?” He brushed her left cheek before his fingertip edged along her lips.

  Her soft breath was warm and inviting against his skin. He drew his hand back, and he stepped away before he could no longer resist kissing her.

  His words tumbled over each other as he said he would be back within an hour. She said nothing. Only nodded, but he could see the uncertainty in her silvery eyes. Would she have let him kiss her? Perhaps.

  That knowledge seared his gut like a canker while he returned to his ship. He tried to ignore it while he spoke with Benton in the wardroom about who would be on watch overnight. When he told his first mate that he was joining the Trelawneys for the evening meal, he paid no attention to the knowing twinkle in Benton’s eyes.

  “I want the men informed so they don’t challenge me when I approach The Kestrel after dark,” he said. “If I have to call back our password, our enemy may hear it and use it to his advantage.”

  “I will let them know, Captain.”

  “And stop grinning like a fool. Why are you grinning like that?”

  Benton scratched his side as his smile grew even wider. “The question is why you are not. Pretty Lady Susanna has invited you to join her family at their private table.”

  “Actually, the invitation was her sister’s idea.”

  He knew he should not have shared that when Benton roared a laugh and said, “So her family approves of a sea dog like you? I find that very interesting. Don’t you?”

  “I find nothing about this conversation interesting.” He stamped across the deck and sat at the table. “Report, Mr. Benton, on the progress of the repairs.”

  When his first mate snapped to attention with a quick salute and began spouting off facts as if they were both in His Majesty’s navy, Drake grew even more annoyed with himself. He should not take out his frustration on his first mate, who always gave exemplary and loyal service. It was not Benton’s fault that Drake was torn.

  “Thank you, Benton,” Drake said, halting him midword. “We will follow the same procedures every day until the last hole is plugged and we set sail.”

  “Aye, Captain.” He saluted again and turned on his heel with military precision to leave the wardroom.

  “And no more saluting,” Drake called.

  Benton’s good-natured laughter remained behind when the first mate was gone.

  Pushing himself away from the table, Drake went into his tiny quarters. There was room for his narrow bed and a small trunk. Nothing more. He changed into his best waistcoat and coat. Both were unadorned dark navy wool. He tied his cravat in the simple knot he always used. He tried to clean his boots, but the stains left from when he had waded out to the jolly boat refused to come out.

  Finally he could put off returning to Cothaire no longer. He was too eager to spend time with Susanna, and he would have to curb his impulse to tug her into his arms and kiss her until she melted against him. If he cared about her, and he did—far too much—he needed to protect her as closely as he did his heart. Nothing had changed. Nothing would change. As soon as The Kestrel was ready, he would leave Porthlowen. As kind as Susanna had been to him, he would not break her heart by letting her think he would stay.

  The great house was lit against the dark when Drake returned. He nodded to the footman who opened the door. Then hearing the rustle of satin and lace, he turned to see Susanna approaching.

  Could this be the same woman as the rumpled one he had spoken to an hour ago? Her shining hair was piled on her head, and her face shone almost as brightly. Instead of dust and cobwebs, her lavender-and-white-striped gown was covered with lace.

  “You are staring,” she accused with a smile. “Did I clean up well?”

  “Very well. Good evening, Lady Susanna. You look even lovelier than usual.” He took her hand and bowed over it. When he stood, he saw he had shocked her with his greeting. He winked before asking, “And do I look more appropriately dressed without a layer of ash on me?”

  “You look wonderful.”

  Again he had to exert all his resolve to release her hand so he did not draw her closer. He thanked her, keeping his tone light, saying he hoped he was not late.

  “Actually, the meal has been delayed because of some crisis in the kitchen,” Susanna said. “Mrs. Ford reassured me that it was nothing, but asked if they might serve a half hour later than planned. The others are in the back garden, but I thought you might like to see the children while we wait.”

  Though he would have preferred to spend that half hour alone with her in the gard
en, it was not an option. He nodded and realized he was anxious to see how the children fared in the wake of yesterday’s excitement. As they climbed the stairs, he asked if Lulu had recovered any memories after visiting the beam engine house and the mining village.

  “She has not recalled anything important.” Susanna sighed as they reached the next staircase to take them up to the nursery floor. “Maybe nothing at all... Moll has been telling her about the jolly boat and other things that happened in the days between their arrival and her fall.”

  “Did you learn something to help us?”

  She shook her head, her smile wavering. “No. Moll was telling her how you and your first mate pulled the boat to shore and...”

  “What?”

  “She said something about the lady who pushed them out into the waves.”

  “Did she describe the lady?”

  “I did ask, but Moll became alarmed.” She gripped the newel post, and he recognized her determined expression. “But we have time now. Maybe if we ask again...”

  Drake took the steps two at a time to keep up with her as she ran up the stairs. Catching the sight of a slender ankle made his breath catch, and she glanced at him. He looked away, not wanting her to see the longing that must be on his face.

  He was surprised when she opened the door to the day nursery. Walking in, he could not believe the change. The walls had been freshly painted in sunshine yellow, and white shelves were filled with books and toys. The dollhouse from the attic was set between two windows. A rug that must have once graced a room downstairs was worn enough so that children playing on it or dropping food on it could not do any damage.

  The children were seated around a small table, finishing their supper. Bertie was the first to realize they had arrived. He jumped up, much to Miss Oliver’s dismay, and ran to the door.

  “Cap!” he shouted before he threw his arms around Drake’s knees.

  Drake picked him up and tossed him in the air before catching him. The little boy squealed with delight, and the other three came running, begging him to do the same to them.