Promise of a Family

“I want you to...” He shifted, and a groan slipped past his tight lips. He motioned her to remain where she was when she started to step forward.

Susanna complied because his left leg was already wrapped in wool cloths. She knew they had been soaked in boiled goutweed in the hope of easing his pain. There was nothing more she could do.

“My lord,” Captain Nesbitt said, “time is of the essence.”

She frowned at his lack of compassion.

Before she could say anything, her father replied, “That is true. Please listen closely, Susanna, while I explain what has brought Captain Nesbitt here.” He quickly outlined an astounding tale of a small boat drifting into Porthlowen Harbor carrying a cargo of six small children.

More than once, she swallowed a question as she glanced from Captain Nesbitt to her father and back. Captain Nesbitt nodded each time to confirm what Papa said. Not that she did not believe her father, but the tale was unbelievable.

“Where are the children now?” she asked when her father paused.

“Still on the shore,” Captain Nesbitt answered. “I thought to obtain some guidance before I did anything further.”

“But those poor children must be hungry!” She frowned at Captain Nesbitt. “And frightened and filthy.”

“That is why I ordered my crew to find something for them to eat. My greatest concern is for the youngest child. It cannot be more than a few months old, and it needs a mother’s milk.”

Before she could answer, Papa said, “Susanna, I am certain that putting this problem in your competent hands is the best solution. I trust you and Captain Nesbitt are capable of handling it.”

She opened her mouth to protest. To say she was the wrong one to see to the children. Her reaction had nothing to do with the many tasks she managed in the house. It had everything to do with Captain Nesbitt. She did not like how her heart seemed to beat a bit faster when he looked in her direction. Until she knew she could control that rebellious organ, which had led her to betrayal once, she preferred not to spend a single moment in his company.

But her wishes were unimportant when her father could hardly move. She would do as Papa requested and see to the needs of those abandoned children. She reached for the bell on a table by her father’s chair and rang it. Hard.

Baricoat appeared instantly. The butler had a knack for knowing the family would be ringing for him even before they picked up the bell.

She gave quick orders. A footman was dispatched to have a carriage brought. Another ran to the kitchen with a request for a hearty tea to be ready for the children upon their arrival. A third headed for the village to see if one of the young mothers who had recently given birth would share her milk with a foundling. In the meantime, she had no doubts Mrs. Ford could devise something to feed the baby.

When a maid arrived with a straw bonnet, a pair of kid gloves and a light shawl, Susanna donned them. She walked out of the room, still giving orders to check the nursery that had been closed up since she left it herself years ago. Baricoat offered to prepare a list of what needed to be done to make the nursery suitable for the children.

“Thank you, Baricoat,” she said. Looking over her shoulder, she added, “Captain Nesbitt, aren’t you coming?”

His mouth straightened again, but he spoke a gracious farewell to her father before following her to the entry hall. When the door was opened, a small carriage waited by the front steps.

The coachman handed her into the carriage, then stepped aside to allow Captain Nesbitt to enter. For a moment, the captain hesitated, glancing at the seat where the coachman was settling himself and picking up the reins. Then he climbed in and sat beside her, leaving as much space between them as possible.

She was tempted to tell him that she was no more in favor of the arrangement than he was. Instead, she called to the coachee to get them under way. The sooner she reached the village and collected the children, the sooner she could be rid of Captain Nesbitt. And the sooner she could regain her composure that was jeopardized each time Captain Nesbitt’s dark eyes caught her gaze.

It could not be fast enough.

Chapter Two (#ulink_04762afd-2f66-5271-9a33-a34cf20ff750)

The earl’s carriage rattled over rough cobbles as it entered the village, which was a collection of stone buildings. A few hardy plants grew in the lee of them. Drake did not see any trees rising more than ten feet and guessed that storms off the sea were dangerous to anything higher. The village had a smithy, where the smith watched them drive past while his assistant worked over the forge and never looked up. There were a few small shops, including one belonging to a cobbler. Drake resisted looking down at his ruined boots.

During the short ride from Cothaire, Lady Susanna had acted like a constable interrogating Drake for a hideous crime. She fired question after question at him.

“How old are the children?” she asked.

“I am not sure.”

“Girls and boys?”

“Yes.”

Her scowl warned him that she was not in the mood for jests. He was tempted to remind her that he had not asked her to tend to the children from the jolly boat. Her father had.

“Three boys and two girls,” he said. “I don’t know what the baby is, but I am sure it is either a boy or girl.”

“What are their names?” she asked and glanced away as if she found the sight of him intolerable.

“I did not wait to be introduced,” he retorted, vexed at her cool dismissal. Didn’t she realize he was going out of his way to help? He hardly needed the problem of six small children when he should be supervising the work to make The Kestrel seaworthy once more.

“Captain Nesbitt, I am trying to determine how to help the children.” Her voice was far calmer than his had been. “Why are you acting as if this is a game?”

Drake relented. Dealing with the children had upset his plans. No doubt, Lady Susanna had other things to do, as well, though he had no idea what important tasks a fine lady might have.

“Help me understand one thing,” he said.

Lady Susanna had been staring at the square tower on the parish church, and he was unsure if she would give him the courtesy of looking in his direction. When she turned toward him, he was as staggered as he had been in the earl’s smoking room by the unusual color of her eyes. With the strong emotions she was struggling quite unsuccessfully to keep hidden, they gleamed like burnished steel. Everything about her shone from her ebony hair to her pink lips. He could not keep from wondering what she would look like when she smiled. She was a dainty miss, the top of her head not quite reaching his shoulder, but he already had seen she was no fragile flower. Her spine seemed to have been fashioned of stronger stuff than the tin pulled out of the local mines.

“Of course, Captain Nesbitt,” she replied in a tone that suggested saying his name left a bad taste in her mouth.

He shoved his foolish thoughts aside. She did not like him. Well, that was fine. He had no interest in her other than making sure the children were taken care of and the person who put them in the boat paid for that cruelty. It was better, in the long run, for her to dislike him and for him to dislike her. That made it easier not to make the same mistake he had before when he had been beguiled by a pair of pretty eyes.

Never again.

“What do you need to understand?” she asked when he remained silent.

“After we brought the children’s boat up on the sand, I went first to the parson of the Porthlowen church.” His brows lowered. “His surname, if I recall rightly, is Trelawney, just like your family’s. Is that a coincidence?”

“No, it is no coincidence. Raymond Trelawney is my brother.” A hint of a smile added a new light to her eyes, and he guessed her full grin would be scintillating. “The living at the Porthlowen church has always been given to a younger son in the family, and Raymond is well suited for the position. His faith is strong, and he has a compassionate heart.”

“Maybe so, but he was quick to pass the matter of the children from his hands to the earl’s.”

Her smile vanished. “As he should have. My father, Lord Launceston, needs to know when something as astounding as a boatload of babies washing ashore occurs. Everyone knows that, so whoever you had chosen to speak to in Porthlowen would have done the same.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” She folded her hands primly, her gloves white against the green-sprigged fabric of her gown. “If you are still in Porthlowen on Sunday, Captain, you and your crew are welcome to attend services at our church.”

“Some of my men already have.” He wished he could take back those words when her eyes narrowed.

“But you have not?”

“Not yet. Someone needs to oversee the work my ship needs, and that is the captain.” He did not intend to add more. He believed in God, but his relationship with Him was lackadaisical. He figured if God needed to get his attention, He would. So far, that had not happened.

“I suppose.”