Читать книгу Promise of a Family - Jo Brown Ann - Страница 11

Chapter Three

“Good night, sweet one.” Susanna tucked the blanket around Lucy, who shared a mattress with her twin sister. Both girls were lost in dreams and sucking their thumbs, Lucy her right one and Mollie her left.

The house had been in a hubbub by the time Susanna returned with the six children. She had been sure that Captain Nesbitt would send someone from his crew with her, but he escorted them himself, insisting that he must speak with her father. She was curious what they discussed, but Papa would let her know if he felt it was necessary.

She had turned her attention to tending to the children and trying to restore order in the house. Baricoat had brought her a long list of obvious deficiencies in the nursery, so she decided to keep the children in her rooms until the nursery was safe and comfortable. Busy with making those arrangements, she still had noticed when Captain Nesbitt left.

He had stridden out with purpose and waved aside the offer of the carriage. He glanced over his shoulder only once before he vanished down the long drive to the gate. She had shifted away from the window so he would not see her watching him. Scolding herself for caring what he thought, she hurried back to the myriad decisions she needed to make to ensure the children’s arrival disrupted the household and her family as little as possible.

There was plenty of room in Cothaire for six small children, but somewhere hearts ached with worry. She did not want to imagine what had compelled anyone to put them in a boat and push it out into the waves. Even if the children had been born outside of marriage, every parish had ways of providing for them.

Help us find these children’s families, she prayed over and over. Ease their fears and point us in the right direction.

Two mattresses had been brought into Susanna’s dressing room while the children, except the baby, were offered tea and sandwiches and cake at a table in the kitchen. Mrs. Ford and her kitchen staff had served the youngsters whatever they wished and made sure they ate slowly so they would not sicken. All the children were thin. She wondered how long they had been adrift. Or had they been half starved before they were placed in the boat?

The past year had been difficult for Cornwall. The wheat and barley harvests had been poor and the pilchard season a disaster. The small fish, which the rest of England called sardines, usually provided a ready source of food along the coast. With her father’s permission, Susanna had ordered the Cothaire pantries opened weekly to allow local families to take food. She was unsure if other great houses shared the practice. If not, starvation among the fisherfolk, the farmers and the miners’ families was an ever-present threat.

Straightening, Susanna went to the next mattress, where the three boys were supposed to be asleep, too. Little Gil was rolled up like a hedgehog at one end, but the two older boys, who called themselves Toby and Bertie, were tussling again.

“Enough,” she said in a loud whisper that would not wake the other youngsters. “It is time to sleep.”

Toby, the slight boy with darker hair, whined, “He is taking my spot.”

“He is taking mine.” Blond Bertie glared at the other boy.

She took Toby by the hand and brought him to his feet. Picking up his pillow, she led him to the other mattress, where the twins slept. “Here,” she said.

“But—”

“Sleep here tonight. Soon you will have your own bed.”

His eyes grew as wide as tea saucers. “My own bed?”

“Yes, but you have to share tonight.” She waited until he curled up at the foot of the mattress and then pulled a blanket over him. “Go to sleep.”

He mumbled something as he looked past her toward the other mattress. She eased to her right, blocking his view of the other boys. Giving him a stern look, she waited until he closed his eyes.

Susanna left one light burning low in the dressing room and went into her sitting room. The lamps were dim there, too, but moonlight came through the trio of tall windows that looked out, as most windows in the house did, over the gardens and the rolling fields beyond them. She could mark the seasons by the flowers that bloomed and faded in the garden.

She dropped heavily to the chaise longue. Leaning her head back, she stared up at the ceiling. The mural there was lost in the shadows, but she could re-create in her mind every bright color of the fields and the orchard as well as the people who had gathered to flirt and pick apples.

Ah, to be so carefree! She could not even recall what it felt like. The weight of her added responsibilities ground down on her. On the shore, while she had the assistance of Captain Nesbitt, taking care of the children had not seemed like such a huge undertaking. Now...

A knock came at the door, and Susanna pushed herself to her feet. That must be one of the maids with the baby. Mrs. Hitchens, the housekeeper, had already selected a wet nurse from among the volunteers in the village. The young woman, who was about to wean her own baby, was willing to come to Cothaire several times a day to feed the nameless baby.

“Caroline!” Susanna gasped when she opened the door. She had not expected to see her oldest sibling at this hour when the family should have been at the table.

Caroline Trelawney Dowling had a welcoming face. That was what their mother had always said, and Susanna believed it was true. Kindness and warmth glowed from her pale blue eyes, whether she met a friend or a stranger. She was a bit plumper than fashion demanded, but that had not mattered to her late husband. John Dowling had loved her exactly as she was, and she had loved him for that.

Loved him still, Susanna knew. Neither death nor the passage of five years had changed that. Often, Susanna wondered what it would be like to have a man love her like that, but common sense always quickly returned.

“May we come in?” Caroline asked.

Only then did Susanna notice her sister carried a tiny bundle in her arms. “You did not need to disrupt your evening meal to bring the baby here.”

“There was no disruption.” Caroline smiled down at the baby. “Papa is taking his supper in his rooms, and Arthur has not yet returned from his visit to the far tenant farms. You know he never arrives home until long after dark when he goes there.”

Susanna stepped aside to let her sister enter. Pointing to the half-closed door that led to her dressing room, she put her fingers to her lips.

Caroline nodded.

“I have a drawer lined with blankets for this babe,” Susanna whispered, holding out her hands.

“May I hold her awhile longer?”

“Of course.” She should not be surprised. Her sister had longed for children of her own, but that dream had been dashed when John died. “Why don’t you sit?”

When her sister chose the chaise longue, Susanna turned up a lamp before sitting on a nearby chair. She watched as Caroline snuggled the baby close, gazing down at her with obvious affection. Susanna bit her lower lip. If her sister became too attached to the baby, her heart was sure to break when the children’s parents were found.

“Don’t fret, little sister,” Caroline said as if Susanna had spoken her thoughts aloud. “I know this darling sprite is here only for a short time, but that is no reason not to savor every moment while I can.” She looked up and smiled. “Tell me. Who was that very good-looking man who came to the house with you?”

“Drake Nesbitt. He is the captain of that listing ship in the harbor.”

“He seemed very solicitous of you.”

“You are mistaken. His thoughts were focused solely on the children.”

Caroline chuckled softly. “Then explain why he was watching you all the time.”

“He was?” She clamped her lips closed when her sister’s smile broadened, but she could not halt the quivers from deep in her center. Oh, bother! She had not intended to say anything so silly. Gathering her composure around her anew, she said, “Captain Nesbitt rescued the children, so he wished to make sure they were comfortable here. As I am the one arranging that, he had every reason to watch that I did as I promised.”

“I agree.”

“Good.”

“He had every reason to watch you, but why did you watch him leave Cothaire?”

Susanna refused to let her vexation surface that someone had noted her by the window and carried the tale to her sister. “I happened to be by the window.” That was the truth. “He is a sailor. I will never be so want-witted as to tangle my life up with one of them.”

Her sister’s face lost all color.

“Oh, Caroline! I am so sorry. I did not mean you were foolish to marry John.”

“I know you didn’t.” Her older sister sighed.

“I am sorry to remind you about him.”

Caroline drew her feet up beneath her and leaned back against the high end of the chaise longue, shifting the baby in her arms. “You did not remind me. I never forget. Not ever.” She squared her shoulders. “Papa tells me that I need to put the mourning behind me as it has been more than five years since John left on that voyage. I don’t know how.”

Moving to sit by her sister’s feet on the chaise longue, Susanna said, “You could ask Papa.”

“I don’t think he knows, because he still misses Mama more than he will admit.”

“What about asking Raymond?”

Caroline shook her head. “Take advice on love from my younger brother who is not yet married? I don’t think so.”

“But he is our parson.”

“I know, and I appreciate his concern and teachings for our congregation.” A faint smile smoothed out the lines of grief in her face. “Still, I cannot imagine speaking to my baby brother about the state of my heart. Perhaps I should speak to you instead.”

“Me about marriage?” Susanna gave a sharp laugh. “I am less of an expert than Raymond is.”

“But losing the one you love has nothing to do with being married. It has to do with healing your heart.”

Susanna opened her mouth but clamped it closed when a sharp cry came from the dressing room. She jumped to her feet. Racing across the sitting room, she pushed open the door just in time to see Toby and Bertie roll off the mattress and across the floor. Bertie got up. Toby chased him. Bertie screeched. The other children woke up and climbed off the mattresses, eager not to miss what was happening.

Susanna reached out and took each little boy by the back of his shirt. She pulled them as far apart as her arms could stretch. Bertie was cradling his arm, and, even in the low light, Susanna could see a bite mark near his elbow.

“He bited me,” Bertie cried, thick tears rolling down his face.

“Did you bite him, Toby?” She wanted to be fair, but she had seen the dark-haired boy tormenting the smaller Bertie all evening.

“He take my pillow.” Toby puffed up in righteous indignation. “He gots pillow. Me want my pillow.”

“He pinched me.”

“He stuck out his tongue.”

“He—”

“Enough,” Susanna said, wondering how she was going to keep the peace when the little boys detested each other.

“Are they hurt?” asked Caroline as she stepped through the doorway.

“My baby!” Gil flung himself against Caroline so hard that he knocked her back a half step. Her shoulder thudded on the door frame. Pain rippled across her face. Her grip tightened on the baby, and her eyes filled with fear that she would drop the little girl.

Torn, Susanna wanted to help her sister but knew the boys would begin fighting the second she released them. She hesitated only a moment, then rushed to her sister and plucked the baby from her arms. Behind her, Bertie let out another screech.

“Give me the baby,” Caroline said over Gil’s demands to see “my baby.”

“But you are hurt.”

“I hit my elbow, and my fingers went numb. I am fine now.”

“If you are sure—”

Bertie screamed.

“I don’t think we have any choice.” Caroline took the baby and bent to let Gil look at the little girl, who, remarkably, still slept.

Susanna whirled to halt the boys again. This time, she did not get as good a grip on their shirts. They squirmed away. Toby picked up a pillow and swung it at Bertie. The other children squealed with excitement.

“Stop now!” she ordered.

Toby hit Bertie again with the pillow. The blond boy fell to the floor and started screaming as if he had been dropped off the roof.

She wondered how much he was pretending to be hurt and how much was true. No matter. She needed to regain control. Again she asked the boys to stop. Again they ignored her. She seized the backs of their shirts, getting a better hold this time. They fought her and each other to escape.

“May we help?”

Not daring to release either little boy, Susanna looked over her shoulder. Raymond and Elisabeth stood beside Caroline. Her brother wore his usual black coat, waistcoat and breeches. One end of his white cravat popped out as he took Toby’s arm and drew him away from her and Bertie.

Elisabeth knelt in front of the angry child and tried to soothe him. He refused to be placated.

Raymond gave them a sympathetic smile. “Let me take...”

“Toby,” Susanna supplied, keeping a tight hold on Bertie.

“Let me take Toby,” Raymond said in his deep voice that was perfect for the pulpit. “He can stay with me at the parsonage tonight.”

“You don’t have room for a child there.”

“Quite to the contrary. I have far more room than I need.”

Elisabeth stood, still holding Toby’s hand. “If the situation remains tense, I have some special sweets at the store that might help.”

Both boys froze at her words.

“Sweets?” asked Toby and Bertie at the same time.

“Only if you behave nicely tonight,” Elisabeth replied. “I will check with Parson Trelawney and Lady Susanna in the morning.”

They both nodded hard.

“That is settled, then.” Raymond glanced toward where Caroline was gently rocking the baby. “Separating these two should make it easier on you.”

“It will.” Susanna relaxed a bit. “I have no idea how they did not tip the jolly boat over with their antics.”

“Because the good Lord had them in His hand, guiding them to this shore, where they would find a haven.” He smiled at them. “Don’t forget that the Book of Proverbs teaches: ‘Hear, O my son, and receive my sayings; and the years of thy life shall be many. I have taught thee in the way of wisdom; I have led thee in right paths. When thou goest, thy steps shall not be straitened; and when thou runnest, thou shalt not stumble.ʼ”

“And the right path was here to Porthlowen.” Caroline cradled the baby close. “I’ll have another mattress and that drawer brought to my rooms. I don’t think Gil will let his baby sister out of his sight again.”

“It appears we have excellent solutions for the children,” Raymond said. “Don’t you agree, Susanna?”

“So our solution is divide and conquer?” asked Susanna, only half jesting.

Elisabeth drew Toby with her toward the door. “Let’s give the children a chance to get to know us, and then we shall see how we can convince these two boys to get along better.”

“Thank you,” Susanna said. The two words could not convey the depth of her gratitude. She needed help to bring the house back to its usual serenity, and she was glad she did not have to ask Captain Nesbitt for it.

Where had that thought come from? There were many servants as well as her other brother to assist her with the children. Not that her older brother Arthur would volunteer as Raymond had. As the heir, Arthur seldom concerned himself with household issues, leaving, as their father did, such matters to Susanna. Even so, she had plenty of hands to assist her.

So why had Captain Nesbitt popped into her mind? Had it been Caroline’s comments about him watching her? Those comments had sent a round of warm shivers rippling along her exactly as when the captain smiled at her. No, it was more likely because her neatly ordered existence had collapsed, and he was part of the reason. The best way to banish thoughts of him from invading her head was to end the tumult in the house.

She would start now. Thanking her sister and brother again, she led the twins and Bertie back to the mattresses and tucked them in. One small step, but it was in the right direction.

* * *

“Captain?”

Drake shook himself like a dog coming out of the water. Benton’s voice had the impatient sound of a man who was tired of being ignored. Looking toward where his first mate stood by the main hatch and wondering how many times Benton had called, he walked away from the railing. He had been watching the crew sealing the outside of yet another small hole...until his thoughts drifted ashore and up to the grand house.

He forgot about the children’s plight and Lady Susanna’s dazzling eyes when he saw Benton’s grim expression. “What is the bad news? More holes?”

“We did discover a few more in the starboard hull. Captain, we would be done much sooner if you didn’t keep sending men off to ask questions about the children.”

“A few days will make no difference.” He saw disbelief on Benton’s face and was not surprised. Three days ago, before he had spotted the jolly boat, Drake had been as impatient as a wind-filled sail to get under way. “And they are keeping their ears open for anyone who needs cargo moved. We need to have something in the holds before we sail.”

“We could go to Padstow or around Land’s End to Penzance and Truro. We would find cargo there.”

“As well as the men whose cargo was ruined by the attack. I would like to have enough money to pay them for the lost goods before I encounter them.”

Benton chewed on that, then nodded. “I understand, Captain. Our reputation and The Kestrel’s are at stake.”

Drake was pleased. Even a year ago, Benton would not have comprehended the tough decisions a captain had to make. The young first mate would soon be ready to take over his own ship. Drake would miss Benton’s willingness to tackle any job and his good rapport with the men.

Clapping his mate on the back, he said, “Let’s get to work.”

“Aye, Captain.” He hurried to the hatch and down to the lower decks.

Drake started to follow, but again his gaze focused on the grand house beyond the village. He looked away. There was nothing there for him, but he could not keep from wondering how Lady Susanna and the children fared now that a few days had passed.

Less than two hours later, his curiosity overmastered his good judgment. He was admitted to the great house as soon as he reached its door, and a footman offered to take him to where he could speak with Lady Susanna. The footman led the way up one grand staircase and then along a long hallway decorated with paintings of people who must be Lady Susanna’s ancestors. He could not imagine being surrounded by so much history of generations past. After all, he had known neither his father nor his mother, for they had abandoned him in a neighbor’s care soon after his birth. He had found his first true family when he signed on a trading ship as cabin boy.

“This way, Captain Nesbitt,” said the footman in his light gray livery that did not have a single piece 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 sent men along the shore as far north as Trevana and as far south as Land’s End. No one they spoke to had heard that six children were missing. Or at least nobody would admit they had.”

She gave a terse laugh. “Captain, even if the children’s parents refused to step forward and own up to what they have done, others would notice children had gone missing. A single child might be hidden from neighbors until it was placed in the boat, but not six.”

“Then we will continue looking. I can send men across the moors to Penzance and Truro. Even as far as Looe, if necessary.”

She walked toward the shelves, her skirts whirling dust behind her. Running her fingers along the shelves, she wrinkled her nose when she looked at the dust on them. She slapped her hands together to clean them. The sound echoed in the empty room as she faced him.

“Maybe we are looking in the wrong place,” she said.

“It is unlikely they came from beyond Cornwall. Devon or Wales is a great distance for a jolly boat to travel.”

“But not a ship.”

He was puzzled. Usually his mind could keep up with any conversation. It might be that he was paying too much attention to the sway of her skirts as she walked toward him.

“A ship, Captain Nesbitt,” she said. “A ship can easily sail from Devon or Wales or even much farther away, as you know.”

“You need not instruct me about sailing, my lady, but I would appreciate if you could enlighten me about what exactly you are talking about.”

Her cheeks went from pale to flushed in a heartbeat. Her voice became as glacial as her brother’s. “Let me put it simply. French privateers attacked The Kestrel. You halted them, Captain, but maybe another ship was not so fortunate.”

What she was trying to tell him shot like a ball through his brain. Why had he failed to see that possibility himself? He had told her, after all, that they could not discount any theory until they were certain it would not lead to the children’s families.

“I will have my men make inquiries about missing ships as well as missing children,” he said.

“Good.” She started to walk away again, and he knew he had been dismissed.

He did not move. “My lady?”

“Yes?” She kept walking.

“I hope your idea is wrong.”

She stopped but did not turn. “Why?”

“Because if it is correct...”

She spun to look at him with horrified eyes. “Please tell me that you are not about to suggest that their own parents put them in the boat.”

“No, because that is not how privateers work. They want the cargo and the ship. Once they board, the ship’s crew and passengers are doomed.” He closed the distance between them until she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. Raising his hand, he slipped the loose hair back behind her ear. He heard her breath catch, and his heart quickened like a ship driven by a gale.

It took all his willpower to ignore both her reaction and his own. His life was already too enmeshed with the events and people of Porthlowen, and he would be gone soon. But he could not leave without warning her of a truth he doubted she could imagine.

Wiping a bit of fluffy dust from her cheek, he held her gaze as he whispered, “If you are right, no ship and no port, including Porthlowen, may be safe.”

He was shocked when she pulled back with the calm smile that was beginning to annoy him. He knew that expression was aimed at covering up her true emotions because her fingers trembled. Because he had touched her or because of what he had told her?

As if she spoke of nothing more important than the color of the water in the cove, she said, “We have never been assured of safety in Porthlowen. Before the French, there were other pirates and raiders, as well as storms and droughts and sickness.”

“Very well. It seems you understand. Therefore, I will bid you a good evening, Lady Susanna.”

“Good evening, Captain.” She relented from her icy pose as she added, “I truly appreciate you bringing me the information your men have gathered. We are grateful for your continuing efforts.”

“I helped rescue those children. I would be coldhearted not to be concerned about their well-being.”

She nodded, and he wondered if she ever lost control of her tight hold on herself. Even when she had gasped at his touch on her cheek, she’d quickly reverted to her cool exterior.

Drake got his answer when her name was shouted from the hallway, and a maid burst into the nursery. The young woman’s eyes were wide with dismay as she cried, “My lady! It is Miss Lucy! She tumbled down the stairs and landed on her head. We cannot wake her.”

Alarm wiped all other emotion from Lady Susanna’s face as she pushed past him. He caught her arm, and she whipped around, fury now mixed with fear.

“Let me go!” she ordered.

“I will, but I am going with you so you don’t fall down the steps in your haste to get to her.”

She nodded. “Hurry! I need to be there when she regains her senses.”

He steered her out of the room past the maid and the footman, who exchanged worried glances. He knew their thoughts as surely as if they were his own.

What if the tiny girl never woke?