of lint on it. He began up a narrow stairwell.
Drake followed, uncertain where they were bound. He had been in great houses once or twice, but never beyond the public rooms, so he had no idea what to expect when they reached the top of the steps.
It was as if they had entered a different house. An odor of dampness and neglect filled each breath he took. No thick carpets covered the wide floorboards that needed to be restained. The walls were bare, though he could see the shadowed outlines where pictures had hung between doors. They were closely spaced, so the rooms beyond them must be not much bigger than his quarters on The Kestrel. A few tables were pushed against the walls. All were either scratched or chipped.
As they left the double row of doors behind and walked along a blank wall where paint peeled off in long strips, voices emerged from a doorway at the far end of the hallway.
A man said, “The first thing we need is a good nursery staff.”
“No,” replied a female voice. “I believe you are mistaken on this.”
Even if Drake had not recognized the melodious tone, he could identify Lady Susanna by her poised, self-assured words.
“The first things we need,” she went on, “are uncracked windows and fresh paint on the walls. I doubt if anyone has been up here since the nursery was closed.”
“Making all those repairs will take time and money. I doubt we can get the windows replaced in less than a month or more. By that time, the children will be back with their families.”
“I hope you are right.” A hint of humor warmed her voice. “In that case, you can see it as early preparations for your heir, Arthur.”
The footman stepped into the doorway and announced, “My lord, my lady, excuse my intrusion. Captain Nesbitt is here and wishes to speak with you, my lady.”
“Tell him,” Lady Susanna said, “that I will be with him shortly. Thank you, Venton. Arthur, I am sure we can complete the nursery quickly if we put our minds to it.”
“My lady, Captain Nesbitt—”
“I heard you, Venton. That will be all.”
The footman cleared his throat and said, “My lady, Captain Nesbitt is here.”
Drake stepped forward. He scanned the room. It was in as bad repair as the corridor, but shelves still contained carefully packed boxes that might contain toys or clothing or even books. He struggled to imagine how anyone could leave books in a damp room. He owned one book, a well-read copy of Robinson Crusoe, and he kept it carefully wrapped in oilcloth in his quarters.
“So I see,” said the man who had been conversing with Lady Susanna. He had her ebony hair and high cheekbones. He affixed Drake with an icy stare.
Drake met it steadily. He might not be the heir to an earldom, but he had information of import for Lady Susanna.
His supposition was confirmed when she said, “Arthur, allow me to introduce you to Captain Nesbitt. Captain, this is my older brother, Lord Trelawney.”
Even though he hated to be the first one to look away, Drake could not halt his gaze from shifting to Lady Susanna. He realized he had been avoiding looking in her direction. Rightly so, because a single glance at her stole his breath away.
She was dressed in a simple pale blue gown that was covered by a gray apron. Her hair was piled up carelessly on her head. A few strands had escaped to curve along her left cheek, and he had to clench his hands at his sides to keep from reaching out to brush those tresses back along her face. A streak of dust shadowed her right eye.
“My lord,” he said, offering his hand.
Lord Trelawney seemed astonished, but shook Drake’s hand. “I will leave you to make plans for the children.”
“Arthur, we need to discuss further repairs to the nursery.” Lady Susanna frowned.
“I will study the list in the morning. As for now, if you need anything, Venton will be here to assist you.”
Drake understood Lord Trelawney’s true message to his servant. The footman would make sure that nothing untoward happened. The urge to laugh tickled the back of Drake’s throat. Lady Susanna hardly needed a chaperone. She could freeze a man in place with a single look.
As soon as Lord Trelawney took his leave, Venton moved to stand just inside the doorway. The spot gave him a clear view of the main room and a smaller one beyond it.
“I thought you had taken your leave of Porthlowen,” Lady Susanna said.
“When I did not return?”
“Yes.”
He shook his head. “Unfortunately, there is still more work to be done on The Kestrel. And, if you remember, I told you that as long as I am in Porthlowen, I would do what I could to help the children. How are they?”
Her shoulders eased from their rigid stance, and an honest smile brightened her face. “Better than I dared to hope. The twins and Bertie have become inseparable. They are fun and funny. My sister is caring for Gil and the baby she’s named Joy, because she is such a happy child.”
“And Toby? Are he and Bertie still quarreling with each other?”
“Toby lives with my brother at the parsonage. We thought giving the boys some time apart would be wise. From what Raymond tells us, Toby has charmed most of the older ladies in the parish, especially Hyacinth and Ivy Winwood, who have made plenty of excuses to call at the parsonage.” She hesitated, kneading her fingers together, then asked, “Have you come because you have news about the search for the children’s families?”
He nodded, and color washed from her face. Was she fearing that he had found the children’s parents or that he had not? True affection had been laced through her words as she spoke of them.
The spot beneath her eye looked even darker, and he frowned as he caught her chin gently and tilted her face toward the light streaming in through the cracked window. He ignored the growled warning from Venton. He drew in a sharp breath of his own when he saw the puffiness beneath the darkness near her eye. It was not dirt. It was a bruise. She had been struck.
“Who darkened your daylight, my lady? Tell me the cur’s name, and I will make him regret being so discourteous to you.”
She drew away and laughed, wincing when her eyes crinkled in amusement. “I appreciate your chivalry, but Miss Mollie gave me this black eye.”
“One of the twins? But how...?”
“We were playing, and she flung her head back. I did not move swiftly enough. You see the result.”
“Maybe I should invite her to join my crew. She could come in handy if French privateers try to board us again.” He glanced over his shoulder at Venton, who was listening with sudden interest. Hadn’t the tale of The Kestrel’s battle been told and retold throughout Porthlowen? Apparently the footman had not heard of it before or wanted more details.
“What have you discovered about the children, Captain?” Lady Susanna asked.
“I
