Page 38 of A Castaway in Cornwall
Laura held up her peel, murmured the words as best she remembered them, and tossed it over her shoulder. She turned and found the peel had landed in a tight coil. Her momentary disappointment gave way to amusement. “Seems about right, considering the muddle of my dream. I see anandsymbol, perhaps, but nothing else.”
“Try again. That does not count.”
Laura picked up the peel and repeated the steps, flinging thepeel with more vigor. This time, the peel spread out in a curvy line of almost cursive appearance.
“My goodness...” Eseld breathed. “You have two letters.”
“Have I?”
“Yes, see there? A lowercaseeor perhaps ana, not quite closed, and there at the end, ac?”
“You do have an imagination.”
“It’s as plain as the nose on your face.”
Someone knocked on the open door. They glanced over and found Mr. Lucas standing in the open doorway, expression taut with concern.
“Pardon the intrusion, ladies, but I was alarmed by the distressing exclamations I heard coming from this room. Is anything amiss?”
Laura instantly flushed with embarrassment, but Eseld brightened.
“Mr. Lucas, you are just in time. Do settle a dispute for us.” She gestured to the floor. “What do you see?”
Remaining near the door, he looked down and his eyebrows rose. “Poor housekeeping?”
“Look closer. What initial does each peel form?”
He bent to look closer.
When he remained silent, Eseld tsked. “Don’t tell me you have less imagination than Laura has.”
He rallied. “I suppose that one looks like ap.”
Eseld shook her head. “No, it’s at.”
“If you say so. And the other ... perhapseandc?” He straightened, looking from one to the other. “What does it mean?”
Eseld grinned. “It’s an Allantide tradition. It’s supposed to tell us the initial of the man we are going to marry.”
Laura’s face burned. “It’s foolishness obviously.”
He looked at her, a teasing light in his eyes. “Ah. I am learning so much about your traditions.”
“Yourtraditions?” Eseld asked. “Are you not British yourself?”
“I meant Cornish traditions, of course.”
Laura echoed vaguely, “Of course.” But an apple seed of doubt had been planted.
After dinner that evening, the family sat talking quietly in the parlour for a time. When the others retired, Laura and Mr. Lucas lingered in front of the fireplace.
“I noticed the family names in the Bible you lent me. Are the Smiths relatives of yours?”
“No. I don’t know who they are or where they come from. I wish I did. I found that Bible after a shipwreck. It is a passion of mine, trying to return lost possessions to their rightful homes. Unfortunately, Smith is a very common name, and I’ve yet to find that specific family, if any survive.”
He nodded his understanding. “Thank you again for loaning it to me.” With a glance at his feet he added, “And for the shoes and boots. I gather you found them washed ashore as well?”
“Yes.”
