Promise of a Family

by Jo Ann Brown

  Oh, how she wished she could share the truth, but she would not. No matter what. Instead, she said, “Caroline, that is ancient history. Franklin and Norah are happily married and raising their family. I wish them only happiness. They were my best friends, and I hope someday I can say they are again.”

  “That is good to hear.” Her sister came to her feet. “I don’t know what brought about this change of heart, but I am glad you have accepted that the path God has for you did not include becoming Franklin’s wife. However, I cannot say the same about Drake Nesbitt. I have never seen you so happy, little sister, as you have been since he came into your life.”

  She plucked at a thread on her apron. “But he is gone.”

  “And that is that?”

  “What would you have me say?” she asked, her voice rising on each word. “That I wish he had stayed. Of course I do, but my dreams are not his. He wants to own a company of ships and build a successful trading venture.” Bitterness crept into her words. “I should have known better after seeing what you went through when John was lost at sea. I doubt you would have made the same choices you did if you had known how it would end.”

  “Susanna, you are wrong. I would marry him all over again, even knowing how it would end and how soon. Each time John sailed, I placed him in God’s hands. God was with John the day he died, just as He always was. Though I cannot begin to understand why God took him that day, I know John died doing what he loved doing. That thought has given me more comfort than you can imagine.”

  “Really?” She could not hold back her tears any longer.

  Her sister stepped closer and pulled a handkerchief from her apron pocket. Dabbing at Susanna’s tears, she said, “Yes. Having him happy made me happy. I missed him when he was away, but that made the times when he was here even more precious. I was so proud of how he turned down Papa’s offer of a ship of his own. John believed he still had more to learn as first mate before he was ready to be a captain.”

  “I never heard that Papa was going to give John a ship of his own.”

  “Just as Papa had a house built for you and Franklin, he planned to do the same for us. He changed his wedding gift to the ship when he discovered how much John loved the sea.” Caroline’s loving smile had a taint of sadness. “Susanna, you don’t know everything that happens at Cothaire.”

  “Probably not.” She sank to sit on a chair’s upholstered arm. “I am glad you found some comfort amidst your grief. I know John wanted you to be happy. That made him happiest.”

  “What would make me happiest,” growled a male voice from near the door, “is for you to come with me.”

  Caroline screamed as she looked past Susanna.

  Turning, Susanna forced her own shriek down her throat. A man in ragged clothes stood by the door. He held a pistol aimed at them. She instinctively stepped between her sister and the pistol. When Caroline cried out again in horror, Susanna stretched her hand back to clasp her sister’s.

  “Who are you?” Susanna asked in the steady tone she had heard Drake use in a tense situation.

  “My name is not of importance. Come with me.” He motioned with the gun.

  Behind her, Caroline moaned, and Susanna knew her sister had heard what she did. The man spoke with an undeniable French accent.

  She held Caroline’s hand as they edged around the Frenchman. He kept his gun pointed at them. It jabbed into Susanna’s back when they stepped through the doorway, and she felt Caroline flinch, as well.

  Another man waited in the hallway. Saying nothing, he motioned for them to follow him. They did.

  As they passed a rare window that gave a view of the harbor, Susanna drew in a sharp breath. In the middle of the harbor, beyond where The Kestrel had been moored for more than a month, another ship rocked on the waves. A French flag flew from the top of her tallest mast.

  The gun poked her in the back again, and she started to turn to snarl at the Frenchman. A quick murmur from her sister halted her. She stiffened when both men laughed.

  As they passed a staircase, Susanna did not look up. She must not want to give the Frenchmen a reason to search the upper floors of the house and find the children. Then she realized they probably already were ransacking the rooms, stealing everything they could carry away. Losing possessions would be a small price to pay if the children were safe.

  A third ragged man stood by the door to Papa’s smoking room. He opened the door and bowed them in with a mocking smile. She pretended not to notice as she went with Caroline into the darkened room.

  The storm shutters were closed and a single lamp had been lit. Her composure crumbled when she saw more than a dozen strangers in the room along with her father. When Caroline gave a frightened cry and ran to him, Susanna did, too.

  Papa stood up, even though she could see pain gouging lines into his face. He pulled them to him and put one arm around each of them.

  “There is no need to terrorize this household,” he said coldly. “Take our valuables and leave us and the village in peace.”

  “We are not here for your baubles,” said the tall man who appeared to be in charge of the invaders. He would have been handsome if he did not wear a sneer on his gaunt face. “We are here for vengeance, because we grew tired of the hospitality of Dartmoor Prison.”

  Susanna clenched her hands at her sides. Were these men the same ones whose ship had attacked The Kestrel? She had not watched them march through the village on their way to prison.

  “The rats ate better than we did,” the man continued, “so we ended up eating the rats. That will not sustain a man, so when they asked for volunteers to help build the church, my surviving men and I were quick to raise our hands.”

  “They assigned you to work together?” Papa asked with a terse laugh. “If you think we would believe such a ludicrous tale—”

  “Believe what you wish, mon seigneur.”

  “I believe you are lying, Captain Allard.”

  The French captain laughed. “You are right. We were not assigned together, but all it took were a few changes of clothing with men who had died. Your English guards never bothered to notice the difference. It took long weeks of digging the foundation and laying stones before my crew finally was gathered together on the same work team. Then we waited for the right opportunity.”

  The man by his side smiled icily. “Those guards will never turn their attention away again.”

  Pressing her hand to her stomach, Susanna tried to quell its roiling. She looked toward the door when she heard footsteps and the sound of a crying baby. When Miss Oliver entered with the children, she went to Caroline, who held her hands out for Joy.

  Susanna motioned for the children to come to her, and the twins and Bertie rushed to grasp her skirts. She put her arms around their shoulders, herding them closer to her. She was glad Toby was safe at the parsonage. Or was he? Again her stomach cramped as she remembered Papa saying to leave the village alone. Raymond and Elisabeth and the little boy could be in the gravest danger. What of the Winwood sisters and others in the village?

  “This is everyone,” said one of the men who had brought the children into the room.

  “The servants?”

  “In the kitchen, under guard.” He saluted the French captain, drawing her attention to him.

  “Mr. Morel!” Her gasp was echoed by her sister.

  The blacksmith’s assistant gave her a smile so cold that her breath froze in her lungs. She tightened her hold on the children as she stared at the man who had betrayed them.

  “Ah, I see you are familiar with Robert Morel.” Captain Allard chuckled and said, using the French pronunciation, “Or, more correctly, Lieutenant Morel.”

  “What do you want?” Papa asked, and she knew he was growing impatient with the French captain playing with them, as if he were a cat and they were terrif
ied mice.

  “I told you. We want vengeance. Word came to us of a prosperous village in this hidden cove, and we were on our way here when we were waylaid by The Kestrel.”

  “But Mr.—Lieutenant Morel has been here for months!” exclaimed Susanna before she could halt herself.

  “Who do you think informed us of Porthlowen? We have spies throughout England, obtaining information on possible targets.” He gave Lieutenant Morel a satisfied grin. “He used his time here quite well.” Looking back at Papa, he said, “I believe you recently suffered a fire in your stable, mon seigneur, and I heard about a cart filled with les enfants losing one of its wheels.”

  “It was simple to do,” Lieutenant Morel bragged. “I heard how Lady Susanna intended to take the children to the mines. When everyone was busy cleaning up from the fire, I could easily slip away to rig the wheel to break. Too bad it broke too soon.”

  Susanna heard both her sister and Miss Oliver cry out in horror. She simply stared at the man who had been made welcome in Porthlowen. Behind his innocuous smile, he had hidden his atrocious plans. He looked away first, and she felt a brief moment of satisfaction until Lieutenant Morel pointed at her.

  “Captain Allard, she is the one Nesbitt called on,” he said.

  The French captain eyed her as boldly as if she were for sale in the market. “I must say that Nesbitt has excellent taste in women. What is your name, woman?”

  “Lady Susanna Trelawney,” she answered with all the dignity she could put in her voice.

  “Are those his brats?”

  Before she could answer, Morel gave his captain a quick synopsis of how the children had come to Porthlowen. The captain guffawed and bent to crook a finger at Bertie.

  The little boy shook his head before hiding his face in her gown.

  “Come here, boy!” Captain Allard ordered. When Bertie did not move, he motioned to one of his men.

  The man stepped forward to take Bertie. Susanna’s hand striking the man’s face echoed through the abruptly silent room.

  “Touch him, and you will be sorry.” When she spoke in the perfect French she had learned from her governess, everyone froze.

  “The she-cat defends another’s spawn,” Captain Allard said in his native language. “How amusing!” He switched to English and gestured to Miss Oliver. “Nurse, take the boy.”

  Susanna bent and pried Bertie’s fingers off her gown. “Go with Miss Oliver, Bertie.” She gave him a gentle shove, and he ran to the nurse, who picked him up and turned so her body was between him and the French sailors.

  “And one of the girls,” ordered Captain Allard.

  “Which one?” Susanna asked.

  “You choose. It does not matter to me.”

  Unsure what he planned, she started to push both girls toward Miss Oliver. Perhaps the captain would see how terrified the children were and let them stay with the nurse.

  It was a futile hope, she realized, when Captain Allard snapped an order, and one of his men grabbed Lulu away from the nurse and shoved her into Susanna’s arms. Both twins howled in fear. She calmed Lulu while Miss Oliver tried to quiet Moll’s shrieks.

  “Your choice is made,” the captain said. “Now I will make my choice. It is time for us to leave. Come, Lady Susanna, and bring the child.”

  “Come where?”

  “You would be wise not to ask questions.” His glare did not silence her, but the gun one of his men raised to train on her sister did.

  Her father asked coldly, “Where are you taking my daughter and Lulu?”

  “To give her one last look at her sweetheart before we sink him and his ship to the bottom of the sea.” He took her arm and pulled her toward the door. “If you want to see Lady Susanna and the child alive again, do not follow us, and do not warn Nesbitt.”

  “The Kestrel is far from here,” Papa said.

  “Not far enough to avoid her end.” He paused, then said, “I am not without a heart, mon seigneur. If you obey my orders to remain here and make no attempt to contact Nesbitt and his ship, Lady Susanna will be returned to you so she can share with you the tidings of The Kestrel’s demise.”

  “She will be returned in the same condition she is now.” Papa did not make it a question.

  The French captain put his hand over his heart in a wounded pose. “I am a gentleman, mon seigneur. Not like that cur, Nesbitt.”

  “Leave the child here,” Susanna said, having no use for his posturing. “You don’t need two hostages.”

  “Maybe if you give me enough time, I will decide on three.”

  Her face grew cold. She did not doubt he would have his men grab another child, simply to prove his power over them. “No,” she whispered. “There is no need for that. Just promise that Lulu will be returned in the same condition she is now, as well.”

  “I give you my word.”

  She raised her chin and said, “Your word means nothing to us, Captain.”

  The Frenchman’s face grew florid, and she hoped she had not pushed him too far. If she complied too quickly, he might make good on his promise to bring another child with them, so she had to walk a fine line between challenging him and submitting to his orders.

  “My word may mean nothing to you,” he growled, “but it means everything to me. I vowed to my men that I would free them from that prison and lead them to exact vengeance on Nesbitt. I have done the first, and soon I will have done the second. You will have a front-row seat to watch.”

  Without giving her a chance to say goodbye, he pushed her ahead of him out of the room. Lieutenant Morel gave a sharp whistle, and more Frenchmen appeared from every direction. He turned and locked the smoking room from the outside. He asked the sailors if the rest of the household was secured behind other locked doors and storm shutters so they could not escape quickly.

  Satisfied none of his prisoners would escape, Captain Allard took Susanna out of the house and forced her into her father’s closed carriage. The shades had been unrolled and lashed to the bottom of the windows. Holding Lulu close and trying to soothe the frightened child, she did not look at Captain Allard, who sat across from them. She prayed for their lives and for the lives of her family and her neighbors, as well as the safety of Drake and his crew. They were not expecting pursuit, and she knew as soon as he learned that she and Lulu were on the French ship, he would surrender. He might be unwilling to stay with them, but he cared about them.

  The door was jerked open as soon as the carriage stopped. She stepped out and looked toward the church and the parsonage. She saw no movement there. Where were her brother and Elisabeth and little Toby? The village looked deserted, save for a line of men carrying heavy items from the smithy.

  Cannonballs! They were bringing cannonballs to the French ship. Was Mr. Jenner a spy, too? She got her answer when she came around the side of the carriage and saw the blacksmith trussed in ropes nearly from head to foot. His eyes widened when his gaze alighted on her, and he struggled against his bonds. Realizing it was useless, he apologized with his eyes. She gave him a swift smile to acknowledge his apology. She wanted to remind him that he had done nothing wrong except for hiring a liar. Lieutenant Morel must have laughed hard when he convinced everyone that he was making cast-iron pots in those molds for the round shot.

  Captain Allard led the way to a jolly boat moored to one of iron rings the fishermen used. Lieutenant Morel must have destroyed their boats, too, when he could not get aboard Drake’s ship to do more damage. Susanna thought of how she had urged Drake to invite the blacksmith’s apprentice aboard to help with repairing the ship. Had she allowed Lieutenant Morel to damage The Kestrel even more?

  She pulled her elbow away from the French captain when he was about to assist her into the jolly boat. Bending, she put Lulu on a seat in the center.

  The little girl stiffened, then moan
ed. She did not answer when Susanna asked what was wrong. Lulu stared about her, her eyes growing big with terror.

  Suddenly Lulu shrieked, “No! No boat! No boat. Way-dee Susu, no boat. Stay with Way-dee Susu. I be good. Stay. No go! No boat!” She burst into hysterical tears and tried to scramble over the side and onto the sand.

  Susanna picked her up and cuddled her close, astounded. The little girl’s lisp had returned. Had her memory, too? It must have, if she was now scared of being placed in a jolly boat. What a joyous moment this should be! They should be praising God and celebrating. Instead, they stood in terror before their enemies, and Susanna was praying for the lives of those she loved.

  “Shut her up!” ordered the captain.

  “She is scared of the boat.”

  “I don’t care! Just shut her up!”

  Stepping into the boat, she sat and held Lulu close to her. The child’s hysterics eased to sobs that racked her tiny body. Susanna wanted to cry, too, as the waves buffeted the boat. She would not give the Frenchman the satisfaction of seeing her weep. He would think he had cowed her, not guessing how scared she was of drowning. As she had in the carriage, she kept her head down, alternately praying and comforting Lulu while they were rowed out to the ship. She looked up only once and saw the words Le Corsaire painted on the ship’s bow.

  The Pirate.

  Captain Allard had named his new ship appropriately. She wondered how he had coordinated the ship’s arrival in Porthlowen Harbor at the same time he and his men reached Cothaire. A shiver raced along her when she realized he might have been lurking nearby for days, watching them. No, if he had been close, he would not have let The Kestrel elude him.

  She refused to give Lulu to one of the sailors as a rope ladder was dropped over the ship’s side. Climbing with Lulu’s arms wrapped around her neck, she heard grumbles behind her at her slow progress. She inched up the hull past an open port that revealed a row of cannons. She shuddered at the sight but, at the same time, hid a smile. Every minute she delayed them gave Drake and his ship more time to sail even farther from these French pirates.