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.”
Drake changed the subject that was making them both even more uncomfortable. “I asked Parson Trelawney if anyone had reported any missing children, and he said no.”
Lady Susanna waved in response to a greeting called out to her by a young auburn-haired woman who stood in the doorway of the village’s main shop. The earl’s daughter called for the carriage to stop.
The redhead hurried over. “You have heard about the children?”
“Yes. Captain Nesbitt came to the house to explain how he found them floating in a jolly boat.” She paused, then introduced Drake to the other woman.
Elisabeth Rowse was almost as tall as he was. Her face was plain, but her bright green eyes glowed with intelligence and kindness. When she smiled as she greeted him, her whole face transformed. The mouth that had looked too wide now was an amazing grin.
“I hardly believed what I heard when a lad came to the shop looking to buy milk,” Miss Rowse said. “Six children abandoned in a boat. Have you ever heard of its like, Susanna?”
Drake was astonished how casually Miss Rowse addressed an earl’s daughter, but said nothing until Lady Susanna bade the redhead a good day and ordered the driver to continue toward the strand. His amazement must have been visible, however.
“Elisabeth is betrothed to my brother Raymond,” Lady Susanna said. “They plan to be married soon.” Without a pause for a breath, she continued, “Do you think the children were stolen?”
“It is a possibility.” He would have to be on his toes, because Lady Susanna had a quick, tireless mind. “Overlooking any possibility would be unwise.”
“A horrifying possibility, I must say.”
He nodded as the carriage came around the last building on the street. In front of them, The Kestrel tilted at a steeper angle than earlier. The figurehead on the front, a hawk raising its wings to catch the air, leaned so low that its feathers almost touched the water. Instead of his men plugging the leak, they must have come out to watch him and Benton tug the jolly boat out of the water. He scanned the beach, but there were so many people gathered there that he could not see his men.
“That ship by the quay looks ready to be torn apart and sold for scrap,” she said with a shake of her head. “Why would anyone leave a ship in that condition in our harbor?”
“Because it is being repaired. Before you ask how I know, I will tell you that is my ship.”
“Oh.”
He had startled her, because she did not have a retort.
“It was damaged in battle with a French privateer,” he added when a flattering blush climbed her cheeks. Not being on the defensive with her was a change. “It is nearly repaired, but we discovered another leak today. By the morrow, if all goes well, she will be proudly afloat once more.”
“Was anybody killed?” she asked in a strained voice.
“Not among my men, but