by Jo Ann Brown
“They are at home here, and we are glad to have them here.” She watched Caroline join the children. After giving her hugs, they rushed away, and she continued talking to the Winwood sisters, holding Joy.
When had she last seen her sister so happy? Before Mama became sick and before Caroline’s late husband, John, made his final voyage.
Susanna frowned. How could she have forgotten how down-pinned her sister had been in the weeks before John’s ship set sail? Even before their mother died, Caroline had lost her smile. Only now did Susanna realize that something else must have happened, something as horrific as that double loss. She could not imagine what, but it had changed her sister...until Caroline took Joy and the baby’s brother Gil into her arms and heart.
If the children stayed, Caroline would not sink into such a depression again. For that reason alone, even if her own heart had not been warmed by the children, she wished they could halt the search for where the children had come from.
“All you need do is say the word, Susanna,” Drake said, “and everyone will stop searching.”
“You have been thinking of this, too.”
“I have. When I saw your brother and his new wife with young Toby, like you, I could not miss how much they looked like a family.”
“A family like you wish you’d had.”
“Yes.” He rested his elbow on a nearby gravestone and smiled sadly. “That is why I would hate to see these children sent back to families who obviously don’t want them.”
“But what if their families do want them. If the children were stolen, whoever took them might have found it impossible to take care of all six at once.”
“They can be a handful.”
“Many hands full.” She smiled for a moment. “It is selfish of me to believe that nobody else cares where they are. That is why I cannot call off the search.”
“Good.”
“Good?” she repeated, astonished.
“I want to find whoever set the children adrift in a wobbly jolly boat. That person or persons condemned them to death and should pay for such a crime. I would like to be the one who makes sure they do.”
Not caring that they stood in the churchyard amid family and friends, she laced her fingers through his and slanted toward him. “If anyone can, it will be you, Drake.”
“You have that much faith in me?”
“Yes. You took on French privateers who must have had cannons on board. A trading ship like The Kestrel does not. You fight for what you believe in, no matter the odds.”
“And we were able to ram a hole in their ship because we were lighter and more maneuverable.”
“You followed the tactics of the man you were named for. Sir Francis Drake’s fleet faced such odds when they defeated the Spanish Armada.”
His laugh rang through the churchyard, making heads swing toward them. When the twins came running, he bent and lifted one up under each arm. The girls giggled as their legs and arms dangled. He swung them back and forth gently, eliciting more laughter. At the same time, he gave Susanna that special smile he reserved for her. She smiled back, knowing that, if only for that moment, they must look like a family, too.
Just like the one she had dreamed of so often.
Had Franklin and Norah dreamed of that, too? She would not want anyone to stand between her and the realization of this dream. Maybe they had felt the same.
As she took Moll from Drake and cuddled her close, a weight lifted off her heart. She had, she realized, forgiven her two erstwhile friends for cutting her out of their lives. She now was able to understand why they made the choices they did.
Drake plucked Moll back out of her arms and laughed when she knocked his hat off. In that instant, the last bindings of betrayal fell away from Susanna’s heart, and she acknowledged how deeply she loved Drake Nesbitt.
Her gaze moved from him to his ship in the harbor. Soon he would be sailing away, leaving her brokenhearted again. And this time, she feared, the hurt would never heal.
Chapter Sixteen
In the twilight, Cothaire was brightly lit. At every window, a lamp shone, and all along the road to the great house, lanterns had been placed to create a glowing path for the guests.
Drake strode up the driveway, stepping aside again and again as fancy carriages drove past. A few had crests on their doors, denoting nobility rode inside. Even those without crests were brilliantly polished from the top to the wheels. Servants in every possible color of livery drove or rode on the back, ready to jump down and open doors the moment the wheels stopped turning.
Drake threaded his way among the carriages waiting to discharge passengers and went to the front door. He nodded to the footman who had his hands filled with hats and walking sticks.
“How are you doing, Venton?” he asked.
“Busy, Captain. I think everyone in Cornwall is celebrating tonight.”
Giving the footman a friendly pat on the arm, Drake drew off his gloves. He would need them later if he made the mistake of dancing but, for now, the white kid gloves were hot and pinched his fingers. He would not have worn them except Benton insisted he must. Though he had no idea how his first mate had become acquainted with the canons of Society, he had relented because he was determined not to give Susanna or her family any reason to regret inviting him.
He followed the other guests toward a wing of the house he had never entered. Stepping aside to allow two elderly ladies and their escorts to pass, their canes tapping the floor, he was surprised to hear footsteps to his left. He looked along a small corridor and saw Raymond walking toward him. He had assumed the bridegroom would be welcoming his guests in the grand chamber where the ball would be held.
“Drake, I am glad you decided to come.” He winked. “And I know my little sister will be, too.” He looked out into the main hallway. Raising his voice to be heard over the multitude walking by, he said, “Quite a crowd, wouldn’t you say? Elisabeth and I would have preferred a smaller, more intimate gathering, but her great-aunt, a true old tough, would not hear of it. Great-Aunt Grace refused to be denied her opportunity to hold court tonight. Elisabeth loves her great-aunt dearly, so how were we to say no? You know how families can be.”
Even though he did not, Drake smiled. “Now you have two.”
“You need not remind me. I probably should make sure that Elisabeth is prepared for the crowd.”
“A good lesson for a parson’s wife.”
“True.”
As Raymond started to walk away, Drake called, “Do I have time to tell the children good-night? I would not want to miss your grand entrance with your bride.”
“I am sure you are more eager to see Susanna.”
“I would never speak falsely to a parson. Not a good habit to get into.”
Raymond laughed. “These events never run on time, even with Baricoat in charge. Go ahead. If you are not down by the time the orchestra begins the first set, I will send someone to the nursery for you.”
“Excellent.”
Drake felt like a ship tacking against the wind as he made his way through the crush of people. He was relieved when he climbed up and away from the guests who were eager to reach the ballroom and claim a good place to stand for the newlyweds’ entrance. He gladly left the cacophony behind. He knocked lightly on the door to the day nursery, hoping the children were not yet abed.
Miss Oliver opened the door and smiled. “Captain Nesbitt, I did not expect you to give us a look-in this evening.”
“I thought—” His words vanished as the children realized he had arrived.
They were sitting on the floor, playing happily together. He was glad to see Bertie and Toby and Gil building with wooden blocks without pinching or poking each other. As the children had become more comfortable with the Trelawneys, they no longer fought as much
. With a shout of “Cap!” they ran to him. He put his arms out and gathered them into a big hug.
Moll took his hand and tugged him toward the dollhouse. “Look!”
He did, but could not see anything different about it.
Miss Oliver came to his rescue when she said quietly, “The dolls are gathering in the best parlor on the center floor to celebrate Parson Trelawney’s marriage to Miss Rowse.”
“Oh, yes,” he said, though all he could see were dolls arranged haphazardly in the room.
Bertie reached in and pulled out a doll. “This is Lady Susu.”
“Oh, yes,” he replied again, even though he could see little resemblance other than the dark hair. “Who are the others?”
Moll pointed to two dolls sitting at a table. “Me.”
“And me,” Lulu added before sticking her thumb back in her mouth.
Toby stuck out his chest. “Bertie and Gil and me are out riding horses.”
“Like Lord Trelawney?” Drake asked.
The boys nodded, excited. As they debated what color horses they would choose, he squatted by the dollhouse. His muscles began to protest, but he ignored them. A bit of an ache was worth seeing the boys smiling and playing together and growing pudgy. In the short time they had been in Porthlowen, they had changed from scrawny waifs to happy, healthy youngsters.
Gil lifted another doll. “You, Cap.”
He struggled not to grin. The rag doll wore a dress and had braids, but that did not seem to bother the children. “Am I having tea, too?”
“No,” Bertie said as if that was a stupid question. “You are here to dance.”
“Dance?” He stood and looked down at his feet with an exaggerated frown. “I don’t believe these feet know how to dance. Can you show me?”
The children began twirling and jumping about and wiggling their hips and waving their hands. In fact, every part of them was in motion as they danced to a nonsense tune they sang together, each of them in a different key. It did not matter. The song was one of pure excitement and happiness.
Miss Oliver came over to stand beside him. “Thank you for coming to visit the children, Captain Nesbitt. You are very good with them. Do you have children of your own?”
“No. I am a bachelor through and through.”
“You seem to have good instincts when it comes to children. You listen to them, and they appreciate adults who do that. They have been excited all day. I did not think I would convince them to take naps, but finally they fell asleep on the floor here waiting for Lady Susanna and Lady Caroline to come to see them. Lady Caroline has visited, but Lady Susanna has not yet.” Miss Oliver arched her brows. “I daresay she is extremely busy with the details for the evening.”
“I cannot imagine anyone more capable of handling every facet of the evening and making sure it runs smoothly.”
“Why, thank you, Captain,” a laugh-filled voice came from behind him.
He turned to see Susanna framed by the freshly painted molding on the doorway. She flowed toward him as if she were being washed to shore on a gentle wave.
He found it difficult to breathe when she offered her gloved hand that was not holding the folded fan tied with a ribbon to her wrist. Bowing over it, he resisted the yearning to bring it to his lips. He raised his head and drank in the sight of her in her pure white gown. The lace decorating the modest décolletage had probably cost more than the profit he made on a half-dozen voyages.
It was well worth the price, for the elegant design, as fragile as a spiderweb, added to her ethereal beauty. With her hair piled up on her head in a glorious confection woven with the same lace, her slender neck was bare, save for a single strand of pearls.
“My lady,” he murmured, unable to keep from putting the emphasis on the first word. How he longed to make those words a reality! To spend the rest of his life knowing this incredible woman was his.
Oh, Lord, if only that could be true. The prayer came from the very center of his heart, the place that had been ravaged by Ruby’s treachery. Susanna’s kindness and sweet smile had healed him.
“You look very nice, Drake,” she said, that hint of laughter still in her voice.
“In my borrowed finery?”
“It suits you well.”
“You suit me well.” He smiled when she dimpled at his compliment.
Tiny footsteps came toward them, and he bent and stretched out his arms, halting the children from reaching her. To mar the perfection of her appearance with smudges from little fingers would be a shame.
“Look with your eyes, not your hands,” Miss Oliver cautioned.
Drake made sure the children would heed their nurse before he lowered his arms. He stepped back as Susanna spoke with the children, promising that she would make sure cake was saved for them to enjoy at lunch the next day.
“I will tell you about everything that happens then.” She held up her hand. “But only if you stay in your beds all night. If you try to sneak out, I shall not tell you for three days.”
He smiled at the crestfallen faces. For the children, three days might as well be three centuries. When they nodded solemnly, she gave each a kiss on the cheek, then gave Gil a second one for “his” baby.
Susanna put her hand on Drake’s proffered arm, and he led her out of the nursery. The children crowded the door, waving and talking about cake. Both he and Susanna turned to wave back before they went down the stairs.
Noise came up to meet them, and he asked, “Are these events always so loud?”
“It has been so long since we have held an assembly at Cothaire, I was barely more than a child looking through the railing to watch the people pass. No one felt like celebrating after Mama died and John died and...and everything else.”
“I am sorry to remind you of that.”
“Don’t be. We have all begun to learn again how important being happy is.” She gazed up at him so sweetly that his heart skipped a beat and his foot almost skipped a stair. Her hand tightened on his sleeve. “Whoa, there!” She laughed. “Or should I say ‘Avast, there’? Are the shoes giving you trouble?”
“Not as much as your captivating eyes, Susanna.”
The dusty pink on her cheeks deepened. “Such pretty talk, Captain Nesbitt.”
“The truth. I have learned that it would be as foolish to be false with a parson’s sister as with the parson himself.” He chuckled at her baffled expression, then explained that he had said something similar to Raymond, though he omitted the fact they had been talking about her.
They were still laughing when they reached the ballroom. Drake became silent as he stared around in awe. Cothaire’s ballroom was magnificent. The arched roof was painted in vivid colors. He saw the sea curving off to the right and realized the mural was supposed to represent a view of Porthlowen and the mighty cliffs from the moors beyond Cothaire. Past a trio of crystal chandeliers that shimmered in the candlelight and sent color in every direction, he saw a depiction of the country house sitting amid its flower gardens.
The walls were decorated with raised pilasters and wreaths that had been painted the pale green of spring’s first grasses. White marble edged the wooden floor where guests would dance. At opposite ends of the long room, huge hearths of the same marble were decorated with life-size statues of shepherdesses. No fires burned on them, for the room was already overwarm.
Lord Launceston’s guests were even more elegant and colorful than the room. The villagers stood to one side, talking to each other, while the wealthier and titled guests congregated on the other. That changed when the newlyweds entered the ballroom. All the guests began to clap and surged forward to offer congratulations.
“I must leave you now,” Susanna said. “I am sorry, but I offered to help with the receiving line.”
“Hurry back as soon as you can.”<
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She squeezed his fingers, then was swallowed by the crowd.
Wandering around the ballroom, Drake listened to conversations. The villagers were discussing how soon the fishing fleet would be repaired and back to sea, while the members of the ton spoke of politics and investments and the latest fashions. One topic crossed the line between classes. The war. More than once, he heard complaints about how the war had dragged on too long, allowing the Americans to build up a small navy to distract the British government from putting all its efforts into preventing Napoleon from amassing a vast empire on the Continent.
“And now they are letting those blasted sailors—pirates, the lot of them—walk free in Princetown,” complained one short and wide man who was at least a decade older than Drake. “There must be better ways to build a church than allowing those scurvy French dogs a taste of fresh air.”
“Why not get some work out of them in exchange for the food we put in them?” asked another man.
“Busy men are ones who are too tired to plot escape,” Drake said when the two men glowered at each other.
The second man nodded. “You are right, sir. Make them do an honest day’s work, and they will be grateful for what they are fed and a place to sleep instead of harrying our ships off our own shores.”
“Bah!” The first man was not ready to cede his stance so easily. “Drop them in the deepest pit and forget about them, especially the American colonists. How many times will we allow them to revolt against the Crown before they accept it is futile?”
“They did win their war of independence,” Drake said.
The first man needed no further invitation to tell anyone willing to listen to his opinions on the subject and anything else to do with the “American colonies,” as he insisted on calling the United States. He allowed no one else a moment to speak.
When the second man slipped away, saying he needed to offer felicitations to the bride and groom, he shot Drake a sympathetic glance.
Drake wished for his own excuse, but when he tried to disengage himself from the conversation, the arrogant man clamped a hand on his sleeve. Drake could have pulled away easily. However, that would be rude, and he had to remember that his behavior reflected on Susanna and the rest of the Trelawneys. Where was she? If she would come along, he could easily end the torture to his ears.