to the village and returning to what they had been doing before word of the jolly boat raced along the street. They obviously thought the matter resolved now that it was in the earl’s daughter’s hands. Maybe there was more to Lady Susanna than he had guessed.
Drake followed in Lady Susanna’s wake through the dispersing crowd and saw most of his crew surrounding the small boat. The children sat on a piece of canvas beside it. Two women who were old enough to be the babies’ grandmothers loitered nearby, handing pieces of cake to them. Another woman of the same age sniffed at the sight before pushing past Drake and Lady Susanna with a mutter about spoiling children.
“Pay Charity Thorburn no mind,” Lady Susanna said under her breath. “From what I have heard, she and the Winwood sisters have not once seen eye to eye in the past fifty years. If one of the sisters said the sea is wet, Mrs. Thorburn would argue it was dry.”
When Lady Susanna turned to greet the Winwood sisters, Drake could not help smiling. Splatters on the children’s shirts and in their hair must have come from the soup Obadiah always had ready in the galley. The elderly cook was on his knees, holding the baby. An absorbent cloth was wrapped around his finger. He dipped it into a bowl by his side; then he placed it in the baby’s mouth to let the infant suckle.
Lady Susanna bent to touch the baby’s head. She smiled warmly at Obadiah, who gave her a toothless grin in return and flushed like a new cabin boy who had stayed too long in the sun.
“ʼTis milk and water and a wee bit of honey,” Obadiah replied to a question Drake had not heard. “ʼTwill fill the mite’s belly for now. My da used the same mixture for lambs when the ewes wouldna let them nurse.”
Thanking him, she turned to where the children regarded her with wide, red-rimmed eyes. They must have been crying the whole time he spoke with the parson and the earl and while he brought Lady Susanna to the beach. He was grateful the older women had come with fresh cake. He thanked them as Lady Susanna sank to her knees beside the boat and put her hand on it as she greeted the children.
“Who is she?” asked Benton quietly as he appeared at Drake’s elbow. “Are there more like her in the village?”
Drake scowled his first mate to silence, then said, “She is Lady Susanna Trelawney, the earl’s daughter.”
Arching his brows, Benton whistled softly.
He did not have a chance to reply because Lady Susanna motioned for him to join her. Aware of the eyes of his crew and the few remaining villagers on them, he pushed down his resentment that she crooked her finger at him as if he were a dog trained to obey.
He squatted beside her and saw one of the older boys pinch the other one again. The second boy let out a shriek that was more anger than pain. He scooped up the two boys and carried them to Benton.
“Keep them apart,” he ordered as he set them at his first mate’s feet.
In an instant, the two boys were taunting each other and poking each other and ready to come to blows.
“How?” asked Benton, trying to pull them away from one another.
Drake shrugged. “You can handle a whole crew of cantankerous sailors. Two small boys should not be too great a task for you.”
When he turned to go back to where Lady Susanna was talking in a hushed voice to the remaining children, he wondered if Benton realized that Drake had given him the easier chore. At least his first mate did not have to work alongside a woman who made no secret that she longed to be rid of him.
He wished he could say the feeling was mutual, but she intrigued him. Her hand gently cupped a tear-streaked face as she leaned toward the children. Behind her cool exterior, she had a gentle heart. So why was she revealing that to everyone but him?
* * *
Captain Nesbitt was definitely correct about one thing, Susanna decided. The two toddler girls, who looked to be around two and a half years old, were identical. They must be twins. With their fine black hair and dark green eyes, they would catch every man’s attention once they were grown. Now they were frightened children surrounded by strangers.
Pointing to herself, she said, “I am Susanna.”
The twins looked at each other and at a younger boy who was struggling to stay awake. Before he could tip over, Susanna picked him up and set him on her lap. She touched his forehead, but no hint of fever suggested he might be ill. She must check each child for signs of sickness, though if one was ill, they all probably would soon be. She wondered how long the youngsters had been in the boat. Their faces were red from the sun but not blistered. Either they were accustomed to the sun off the sea or they had been drifted quickly into Porthlowen Harbor after being set afloat.
“I am Susanna,” she repeated to the twins. “Who are you?”
“Wufry,” one of the little girls said.
“Ruthie?” asked Captain Nesbitt as he came to kneel beside Susanna. He held out his hands for the little boy.
Susanna shook her head because he had fallen asleep, and she did not want to disturb him until she must.
“Wufry.” The little girl scowled at Captain Nesbitt. “Wufry!”
In a hushed voice, he said, “The females around here must learn that facial expression early.”
“What?” She looked at him and found he was so close to her that she could not see anything beyond his broad shoulders. As she raised her gaze to his, everyone else on the shore seemed to fade into the distance. Could one disappear into the brown depths of another’s eyes?
Then he grinned. “Her irked frown is just like yours.”
Susanna gasped, knowing she should chide him for his rudeness, but she had been sent to help the children, not to teach Captain Nesbitt proper manners. Heat raced up her face when she recalled how many were watching and might have overheard his whisper. The best course of action would be to collect the children and return to Cothaire posthaste.
“Wufry!” insisted the little girl again.
Lord, Susanna prayed, open my understanding as well as my heart to these children You have brought forth out of the sea. She shuddered when she thought of how easily they could have died before reaching Porthlowen. Let me help them now and please guide me in tending them as carefully as You guided them to safety.
Listening closely to the little girl, she repeated the child’s word over and over in her mind. She smiled and asked to give herself more time to decipher the name, “So your name isn’t Georgie?”
“No.” The child smiled, and the little girl beside her looked at Susanna for the first time. “Wufry.”
“And I guess your name isn’t Aloysius, either.”
Both twins giggled.
When Captain Nesbitt started to speak, Susanna waved him to silence with a curt motion. He scowled but nodded. Good. He could be reasonable.
“Wufry!” said the little girl again.
Hoping her first real guess would be right, Susanna took a deep breath and said, “So your name must be Lucy.”
The
