Page 127 of A Castaway in Cornwall
“It was strange to see François unsteady like that,” Alex said. “He’s usually deadly accurate with a gun and fast on his feet. I wonder if he had been drinking.”
“He drank the tea I gave him,” Laura explained, “which contained a large dose of potent fever medicine. Dr. Braun poured it for me when he was here. François came before I could dispose of it, so I offered it to him. I hoped it would put him out as it did me, but at least it hindered his ability to react quickly.”
“Clever girl.” Alexander watched her closely. “And you are sure you are all right? François didn’t hurt you?”
“Shaken but otherwise perfectly well. He did not touch me.”
“Good.”
“And how are you faring with all this?” she asked in turn. “Being an officer, you have probably seen men shot before, although with an old friend, it must still have been difficult.”
He looked up, eyes distant in thought. “More difficult than I would have imagined. I am relieved he isn’t here any longer to endanger us, yet I am grieved as well.” His voice thickened. “Despite everything, we were once as close as brothers.”
Laura nodded her understanding.
“It reminds me of Alan,” he went on. “I know now he was working for d’Auvergne, yet he is still my brother, and I love him.”
“Of course you do.” Laura reached over and squeezed his hand. “I will pray for him and his family. Which reminds me, I am planning to venture out to church tomorrow with my aunt and Mrs. Tobin. Will you join us?”
Alexander hesitated. He seemed about to refuse, then relented. “Yes. Much needed in my case. It has been too long.”
The next day as they readied for church, Aunt Susan came into the guest bedchamber and handed Laura her father’s prayer book. Laura held it to her chest, then kissed her aunt’s cheek. “Thank you. I shall treasure it.”
Alexander arrived as prearranged to go to church with them. He offered Laura his arm, and she laced hers through it, glad for his support during her first lengthy walk since falling ill.
Together they strolled through the streets of St. Helier amid warm sunshine and cool breezes until they reached the parish church. From the church’s tall tower, the bell rang as they entered the nave. Around them, the congregation filled the pews. Laura decided it felt good to be in the church where her parents—and Alexander’s grandparents—had worshiped.
As they waited for the service to begin, Laura prayed forAlexander’s family, as promised, and thanked God François hadn’t injured or killed anyone the day before.
The parish clerk rose to call the service to order and announced a hymn.
Aunt Susan stood on one side of her and Alexander on the other. How pleasant to stand beside him, to share a hymnal and her father’s prayer book. Alexander sang quietly and tentatively, perhaps not as familiar with the English lyrics. Even so, his rich, deep baritone voice was like warm chocolate, and she leaned nearer to better hear him.
Later, when the vicar climbed into the three-tiered pulpit, Laura felt a stab of nostalgia, thinking of dear Uncle Matthew, her favorite, much-loved clergyman.
The vicar read from the letter of James. “‘But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering. For he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed....’”
As Laura listened to the sermon, she slowly realized that while she had believed in God since a young girl, after losing her brother, parents, and Aunt Anne, her faith and trust in Him had wavered and diminished. She prayed, attended church, and went through the motions but didn’t really believe God acted in her life. Had she come to the wrong conclusion?
God had not spared her family or given her everything she wanted as her doting papa had. But did that mean He did not care? Did not hear her or answer?
As if sensing Laura’s inner thoughts, Aunt Susan squeezed her hand, and beside her, Alexander subtly pressed his shoulder into hers. The presence of these two people seemed proof of something. Of God’s love, if nothing else. Did He hold her future in His hands? And did Alexander figure into that future?
After the service, Alexander walked home with them. Aunt Susan and Mrs. Tobin went to the kitchen to prepare Sundaydinner, but they insisted Laura rest in the parlour and keep the captain company.
Laura was happy to oblige them, but Alexander, she quickly noticed, was restless. He briefly sat, then rose and paced across the room.
“You are not overtired?” he asked her.
“No. I enjoyed the walk and the service.”
“Good.” He took a few more steps, then turned to her. “Laura, now that you are out of danger, it is time I left for Brittany.”
She had guessed this was coming, but dread weighed down her stomach even so.
“Though Alan and I chose different allegiances, we are both Carnells and Bretons and Frenchmen. I must try to help him.”
“I understand.”
