Page 107 of A Castaway in Cornwall
The man nodded sagely. “I’m a publican in Porthcurno, madam. I make it a practice to deny anything the revenue men ask me.” He cleared his throat. “Rennet told me where she hid you. I trust I can count on your discretion in return?”
“You may indeed.”
They smiled at one another and settled their bill, and the two travelers began the long walk to Penzance. The day was cold, damp, and misty. A few carriages passed by, and Laura hoped one of them would stop and offer them a lift, but none did.
Ten miles was going to be a tiring trek, especially in the rain, which grew heavier as they trudged along the road.
Seeing her traveling bag getting wet, Laura again tucked it under her cape, wishing she had brought a stout leather valise instead, although it would have been heavier.
A wagon passed them, and the driver stopped his horses with a “Whoa now, boys.” Then he called to them, “Where are you two bound?”
“Penzance.”
“That’s a long walk for a woman in her condition. Climb up.”
Alex looked at her, brows high in surprise, then bit back a smile.
The farmer nodded toward the ewes in the wagon. “I wouldn’t make my girls walk so far.”
“You are right, sir,” Alexander said humbly. “And we sincerely appreciate your offer.”
He helped Laura up onto the bench and squeezed in beside her.
They continued on their way. The wagon would win no races, but it was better than walking the whole ten miles.
Reaching Penzance, Alex offered the man something for his kindness, which he waved away. After thanking him, they spent some time walking around the harbour, inquiring about a ship. Finding no one willing to help them, Laura asked a passerby for directions to Quayside Cottage. After their late start, slow pace, and futile inquiries, the sky was already darkening.
When they found their way to the house, Laura handed Alex her bag and whispered, “Let me talk to him first.”
Alex nodded and stood off to the side behind her. Laura took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
A few minutes later, a short, rotund housemaid answered. “Iss?”
“Good evening. I am here to see Mr. Truscott. Is he at home?”
The woman hesitated, looking her up and down. Laura lifted her chin and managed a small smile, hoping to look more ladylike than she surely had over the last few days.
“I’ll see. Wait there.” She shut the door, leaving them out in the cold.
Lord, please let him remember me and look on us kindly.
The door opened again a few minutes later, and a thin, balding man stood staring at her, wariness etched into his features.
Laura swallowed. “Good evening, Mr. Truscott. I apologize for the unexpected call. But you did say if I were ever in Penzance, I should visit you.”
“And you are?” he asked.
“Laura Callaway. I wrote to you about your first wife, some months back. And I received your kind and, may I say, unexpected response.”
His expression transformed into one of wonder, then fell. “You’ve missed the wedding, I’m afraid.”
“I know. I hope it went off well?”
“Yes, the new Mrs. Truscott and I are blissfully happy. I wish you could meet her, but her niece just had a child, and she has gone to stay the night with her so she can rest.”
“How kind of her.”
“Yes, that’s Ruth.” He shifted uneasily. “I know I offered you some reward, but now I fear you mistook me for a rich man. I hope you did not come all this way expecting a great deal of money.”
