Promise of a Family

by Jo Ann Brown

  Drake and the parson remained on the sand. When Raymond motioned to the path leading toward the church and Cothaire beyond, Drake walked with him.

  “I want you to know that my crew would never destroy another man’s livelihood,” he said when Raymond said nothing. “We understand how hard it is to wrest a living from the sea.”

  He nodded. “I know your men are not behind this.” He halted at the top of a rise. “Here is where we must part, and I must ask a favor of you. I need to minister to the village now when there is so much uneasiness. Will you take word of the destruction of the fishermen’s boats to Cothaire? My father needs to hear of it immediately.”

  “What if he believes, as some of the fishermen still do, that my crew was involved? Will he think I ‘doth protest too much’?”

  “You do not strike me as a man who is fond of Shakespeare.” He grinned.

  “Is that Shakespeare? The master of the first ship I sailed on always said it when someone was trying to avoid being caught in a mistake. The time I have ashore is usually spent unloading my cargo and arranging for another. I don’t have time to visit a playhouse.” He clasped the parson’s shoulder. “I will be glad to deliver the message.”

  “I thought you might be. Caroline has mentioned that you seem happy for any excuse to visit Cothaire to see Susanna and the children.”

  “Your sister is an insightful woman.”

  “Both of them are.”

  “A warning?”

  Raymond laughed. “A fact.”

  Looking back at the fishermen, Drake asked, “What about them? Who will repair the boats?”

  “Each group of men who work on a boat divides the profits from their catch evenly among themselves and the boat.”

  “The boat?”

  “To pay for repairs and new equipment, but I doubt any of the boats have earned enough to pay for such massive repairs. Often when a boat is heavily damaged, the other boats will work out a way to help replace it. But when more than one boat is damaged, no amount of generosity among the fishermen will provide.” He squared his shoulders. “Under extraordinary circumstances like this, my father has stepped in to help in the past.”

  “The earl or your heavenly Father?”

  “Both.” His smile returned. “My earthly father has provided funds and food while God gives us the strength to go forward. God can offer you the same, Drake. All you need to do is open your soul to Him and let Him in.”

  “I am trying.”

  “I am glad to hear it, and God is, too. Thank you for taking the message to my father.”

  As Raymond turned to go, Drake said, “One question. Why did you halt me from telling them about the fish left in the parsonage?”

  “They are upset enough. They don’t need to worry about what was only a temporary inconvenience. I have made a few quiet inquiries but have not learned anything. I pray we can find the person responsible.”

  “It must be someone who has a grudge against everyone in this cove.”

  “That is a lot of hatred for one soul to carry in it. Such hatred can consume the one who holds it within him. We must keep him in our prayers. Not only that he will confess, but that he can set aside the hate that drives him. One of the first lessons we teach children at church is the one our Savior preached: ‘Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.’”

  “Not an easy lesson to live in a time of war.”

  “No one promised it would be.” With a wave, Raymond took the path toward the village.

  Drake turned in the opposite direction, pondering what the parson had said about the attacks on Porthlowen and what he said about God. He had a lot to consider about both.

  * * *

  Handing a book to her father, whose gout was easing enough that he could come downstairs, Susanna turned at the sound of vigorous footsteps. Her heart began to thump within her chest, even before she identified the person approaching her father’s office.

  Drake walked in but slowed slightly when his eyes met hers. Her breath caught over her excited heart, and she was unsure if she could draw another while she was held by the warmth of his gaze.

  He continued across the room and bowed his head to her father. “Lord Launceston, I wish I could say I was arriving with good news, but that would be a lie.”

  Susanna lowered herself to the closest chair and clutched its wooden arms. More bad news?

  No hint of her father’s pain was in his voice as he asked, “What has happened, Captain? Bad news does not get better by delaying.”

  She listened, appalled, as Drake outlined what had been done to the fishermen’s boats and nets. No matter how hard she tried, she could not imagine a single reason why anyone would want to jeopardize the livelihoods of more than a dozen families in Porthlowen.

  “I intend to speak with the men who were on guard duty last night,” Drake finished. “Your son Raymond plans to do the same in the village, because there are some who believe my men might have done the damage.”

  “That makes no sense,” Susanna said. “The villagers are striking out in any direction because they are in shock.” When both men looked at her, she felt heat rise up her cheeks. It was not appropriate for her to speak when Drake had come to see her father.

  “You are right,” Papa said, stretching to pat her hand reassuringly. To Drake, he added, “My daughter has a way of getting to the very heart of a matter.”

  “I have noticed.”

  Papa chuckled. “I believe you know, Captain, that this destruction was meant to drive a wedge between your crew and the villagers.” He motioned to a chair next to Susanna’s. “Make yourself comfortable, Captain. Shall we ring for some refreshment?”

  “I would be grateful, my lord.”

  Susanna rose and picked up the bell sitting on a nearby table. Before she could ring it, Baricoat appeared in the doorway, offering to fetch an early tea. She wondered how he managed to be there whenever they needed him.

  While they waited, she listened to Drake and her father discuss who could be behind the crimes and why. She was very pleased when Papa listened to Drake’s theories. Each in their own way, the members of her family were showing they respected the man she was falling in love with.

  Falling in love with? Where had that thought come from? She knew the answer even before the question formed. In spite of the safeguards she had put around her heart, Drake had discovered a way to slip past each of them. As she watched him with her father, she was fascinated by the emphatic motions of his hands as he suggested another idea or the way he sat with quiet intensity while her father spoke. She imagined those hands cupping her shoulders as he gazed down at her with the same intensity.

  Baricoat returned with a tray, which he placed on the table beside Susanna’s chair. She thanked him, then smiled when she saw the pitcher of cool cider set to the far side of the meat and cheese. She stood to pour a glass for each of them.

  “No,” her father said sharply, and she almost spilled the cider. “There are no roving bands of criminals in this part of Cornwall. If there were, I would have been alerted by the constable or the justice of the peace.”

  “What about the French?” Drake asked as he took a glass from Susanna with a warm smile. “They would delight in disrupting our lives and livelihood. I know that all too well.”

  “Any that have dared to step foot on shore have been caught, because they find it hard to pretend to be Cornish. If their accents don’t betray them, then the fact they are strangers makes them stick out in any village. Once caught, they are sent to Dartmoor Prison. Just as the ones you captured were.”

  “If one escaped...”

  “There have occasionally been escapes, but no prisoner gets very far. The moors are not kind to a man w
ho has been on restricted rations. Few of them get more than a short distance from Princetown before they are recaptured. One is reported to have gotten all the way to Plymouth. While in his cups celebrating his escape, he shared his adventures with other patrons of the tavern, who wasted no time turning him over to the constable in exchange for the reward for his capture.”

  Drake chuckled and chose a selection of food to put on his plate. “There is a lesson in that for all of us.”

  “True,” her father said. “I have to say I don’t agree with the prison officials who are allowing a few prisoners of war out each day to build a parish church for Princetown. Neither the French nor the Americans have any love or respect for this country and its people.”

  “I agree with erring on the side of caution, but bored men are men easily tempted into trouble. If the work crews are heavily guarded and the villagers are willing to accept the risk, then the reward is great.”

  “But what reward is that criminal expecting for the damage he is doing in Porthlowen?” Susanna asked as she offered the plate to her father.

  The two men looked at her, then at each other before affixing their gazes on her again.

  Papa chuckled. “I warned you that she gets to the heart of the matter.” He took the plate. “Captain Nesbitt, if we can guess what reward he hopes for, we may find the man.”

  “You make it sound simple, Papa,” she said.

  “It is,” Drake said, giving her one of the scintillating smiles that made her sparkle inside, “once we make the right guess.” He raised his glass of cider. “Let’s hope we are right very soon.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Bertie was so excited he leaped from one step to the other as Miss Oliver brought the children downstairs. “Boat! Boat! Boat!” he shouted on each step.

  Lulu and Moll held hands and wore wide grins. In their matching bonnets and new pink dresses with darker pink sashes, they looked even more adorable than usual.

  As she pulled on her gloves, Susanna greeted each of the children. Miss Oliver had done an excellent job getting them ready and keeping them neat.

  “Boat!” called Bertie, bouncing from one foot to the other. “Go boat!” He sneezed once, then another time.

  Before he could wipe his nose on his sleeve, Susanna squatted and handed him the handkerchief Miss Oliver held out to her. She told him to blow his nose and he did, making more noise than was necessary and eliciting giggles from the twins.

  Returning the handkerchief to the nurse, she said, “Yes, we are going to The Kestrel.”

  “Cap’s boat,” Mollie said, and Lulu nodded, her eyes bright.

  The children had talked of little else for the past week. Even though Drake had planned on a visit the day after he invited them, first the damage to the fishing boats and then a storm that settled over the cove with days of unending rain had postponed it. When morning dawned with a sky so blue it almost hurt to look at it, Susanna had sent a footman to ask if the children might get a tour of the ship that afternoon.

  Drake’s quick response had delighted her because the note he had dashed off told her that he was looking forward to having the children on The Kestrel and even more eager to see her. When her heart bounced like Bertie as she read those words, she had told herself to be thankful for the time she could spend with him. It would soon come to an end.

  “Where is Gil?” Susanna asked. “I thought he was coming with us.”

  Miss Oliver shook her head. “He is still coughing. Lady Caroline does not want him to take a chill from the sea.”

  “That makes sense.” She tied her bonnet ribbons under her chin. The simple basket bonnet with its light-green-and-white-checked ribbon would be perfect for a visit to Drake’s ship.

  Mr. Jenner promised the cart would be fixed as soon as possible. The smithy was busy replacing fishing hooks and other equipment the fishermen had lost in the destruction to their boats. As well, when she went to check on the repair’s progress, Mr. Morel had been pouring iron into a round mold. Making cast-iron pots was one of his regular tasks.

  Susanna chose the closed carriage. That way, there was no chance of a child popping out on the way to the harbor. They stopped at the parsonage long enough to collect Toby, who wore new shoes, which he proudly showed off until The Kestrel came into view; then every child crowded to look out the windows.

  She insisted that she and Miss Oliver get out of the carriage first. Each of them took two children by the hand. Miss Oliver grabbed the boys’ hands and warned them that no fisticuffs would be acceptable on board the ship. As Toby and Bertie solemnly agreed, Susanna led Lulu and Moll along the pier. On every step, one twin or the other said, “Look, Lady Susu! What is that?” Because she could not answer many of their questions, she told them to ask Drake once they were aboard.

  She gazed at the ship. The mighty masts were even taller than she had realized. The rigging created a path to the very top of the masts. The sails were folded like a hawk’s wings, and she could understand why Drake had chosen the name The Kestrel for his ship.

  “May we come aboard?” she called from the bottom of the plank.

  Drake and his first mate stepped into view, and her breath caught. Both wore spotless navy blue coats over light brown breeches. Their flat-top, wide-brimmed black wool hats were different only in the color of the braid at the bottom of the crown. Rising to their knees, boots shone like the sun itself, though she could see the salt stains on Drake’s boots.

  Stepping forward, Drake doffed his hat and bowed. “Please come aboard, ladies and gents.”

  The twins giggled but gripped Susanna’s hands as they climbed the steep board that swayed gently.

  “Good afternoon, Captain Nesbitt,” she said, unable to pull her eyes away from his commanding appearance. “Thank you for letting the children see the ship.”

  “Go boat!” yelled Bertie as he jumped onto the deck.

  Miss Oliver tried to hush him, but the little boy was too excited. Drake motioned for the children to follow him.

  Susanna watched Drake cross the deck to where Obadiah, if she recalled the cook’s name correctly, offered a tray of sweets to the children. As they swarmed around him, she realized Drake was more at ease than she had ever seen him. There was a lightness in his step, and a broad smile threatened to split his face.

  When Benton stepped forward and offered to escort Master Bertie and Master Toby, who were keeping their promise to behave—at least so far—the little boys squealed and grasped his hands. Questions flew at him from both sides as they went to look at the scuppers. Miss Oliver trailed behind them, smiling as the first mate tried to answer one question before the boys had another.

  “And I get to give a tour to three of the prettiest ladies I have ever seen,” Drake said, coming back with the twins.

  Moll giggled. Lulu stuck three fingers into her mouth, but a chuckle escaped around them.

  “While we are fortunate to be escorted by such a fine gentleman,” Susanna said, her smile as lighthearted as his.

  “Shall we?” He offered his arm to Susanna. When she put her fingers on it, he held out his hand to the twins. Moll grabbed it first, and Lulu skipped to take Susanna’s other hand. “What would you like to see first?”

  “Boat!” the twins said together, then laughed.

  “Then we shall see all of it.”

  “Or as long as their legs hold out,” Susanna said quietly.

  Drake escorted them around the main deck and showed them the mighty wheel that controlled the rudder, then took them belowdecks to let the little girls try the sleeping hammocks that hung in an open section midships. She and Drake gently pushed the hammocks to rock the girls, much to their delight.

  “How are the repairs going?” Susanna asked.

  “We keep finding holes where we do not expect them.” He leane
d one hand on a beam that held the deck over their heads. “It is maddening.”

  “New holes?”

  “To us, yes, but from the water seepage and discoloration of the boards, it would appear that they may have been there a day or two. If the water was not so shallow here, allowing The Kestrel to balance on her keel at low tide, the boat would have sunk by now. When my crew is not plugging holes or standing watch, they are bailing out the lower holds.” He shook his head and sighed. “I doubt they can go much longer at this pace.”

  Looking closer, she saw deep shadows under his eyes and new lines etched across his forehead. “When did you last sleep?”

  “I have no idea.” He smiled, then yawned. “It is better when I don’t talk about sleep, because once I do, I don’t want to do anything but take a nap for a month or two.” He started to reach into the hammock to lift out the twins, then laughed quietly. “It looks as if someone else had the same idea.”

  Susanna moved to where she could see into the hammocks. The little girls were curled up into balls, their thumbs in their mouths, asleep.

  When Drake took her by the elbow, she tiptoed away. Then she realized heavy footfalls came from every direction as well as over their heads, and neither twin reacted.

  He led her into a room where a table was bolted to the floor. Beyond it a single door was closed. He pulled a pair of chairs off hooks on the wall and set them by the table.

  “It is not as grand as the dining room at Cothaire, but try not to notice,” he said.

  “I think it is very clever how you keep items from sliding around when you are at sea.” She sat in the chair he drew out for her. “Thank you, Drake. The children, as you saw, have been so excited about coming here.”

  “You have already thanked me. No need to do so again.”

  “I wanted you to know how happy we were to get your note this morning.”

  He sat next to her. With gentle fingers, he tucked a strand of hair back beneath her bonnet as his gaze caressed her face, lingering on her lips. His voice was low and uneven as he asked, “All of you were happy?”