Page 64 of A Castaway in Cornwall
Laura slept in to make up for the late night at the ball. But that afternoon, she went back to the Penberthys’ cottage in Porthilly to check on the children with fever. Perry drove her and Miss Chegwin in his family’s carriage. When they arrived, they learned all five of the children were now ill. Laura was glad she’d asked Perry to accompany them—the suffering children and worried mamma needed all the help they could get. Since the Penberthys could not afford to go to the apothecary in Padstow for leeching or fever powder, Perry prescribed honey in hot water instead. Laura hoped it would be effective.
When she returned to Fern Haven an hour or so later, Laura removed her outer garments and went to find Alex. He was not in his room—yes, she had begun to think of the guest room ashis—nor was he in the parlour.
That was strange. A shaft of foreboding sliced through her. Had he left, to avoid another confrontation with François LaRoche, or something else ... something worse? She couldn’timagine him getting far with three guineas and a few days’ wages.
A worrisome thought came to her. Had he recalled the collection of “treasures” she’d shown him? Thought of another way to raise money quickly?
She hurried to her desk drawer and opened it, then breathed a sigh of relief. Her key was still there.
Then where was he? In the garden or with Jago at Brea Cottage, perhaps? She looked out her window, then crossed the hall to look out Eseld’s. From there, she saw the back of a man disappear up the lane that led to the abandoned icehouse. Concern flickered over her. Why would anyone go up there, unless...?
Laura put her cape and bonnet back on and, taking a lantern with her, went out to investigate. She walked up the old gravel drive, her gaze trained on the icehouse door. As she neared, her heart began to pound.
The door was ajar, the padlock unlatched. Someone had picked or broken the lock. Alexander?
She sucked in a breath at the thought, betrayal rising up in her, squeezing her throat.
Moving forward like an automaton, Laura hoped she was mistaken, and wished she would find someone else inside—even a stranger. As frightening as that prospect would be, the betrayal would not hurt as bad.
Slipping inside, she tiptoed down the stairs. She knew it was probably foolish to put herself in harm’s way, but righteous indignation fueled her steps.
There he was, in a pool of lantern light—in her private place—hands full. Nausea swirled in her stomach, but she raised her chin and said briskly, “What are you doing in here?”
The man turned. Not Alexander, as she’d feared, but Tom Parsons. Relief filled her, quickly followed by dread.
“Just seeing what’ee gathered. I said I would be watchin’ee, up-country lass. Found quite a few things, I see.”
“How did you get in here? Did you break my lock?”
“No, it’s as good as ever, which ain’t saying much. Suppose’ee bought it at the Trebetherick village store?”
Laura had but did not admit it. She glanced around, quickly surveying her collection. The most valuable item, the salamander brooch, was still there. She stepped between him and the shelf where it lay. Then she looked more closely at the objects in his hands. A fistful of Spanish coins in one and the silver flask in the other.
Pointing toward them, she said, “Those are mine.”
Parsons smirked. “Are they, now? I imagine the duchy agent or customs man might have somethin’ to say about that.”
“Those are not taxable goods.”
“What about these coins?”
“Those are old ducatons. No longer legal tender, as far as I know.”
“Could be melted down for the silver. It’s a waste to let them sit here.”
“I found them.”
“And nowIfound them.” He took a menacing step toward her.
Boots scraped the flagstones behind her. Laura whirled.
Alexander appeared at the bottom of the stairs, wary eyes shifting from her face to the man standing near her. “Good day, Miss Callaway. Showing Mr. Parsons your collection?”
The man smirked. “Somethin’ like that.” He stepped toward Alexander. “Now I’ve seen what I come fer, I’ll be on my way.”
Alexander’s focus landed on the silver in the man’s hand, glinting by lantern light. “Give the lady back her things.”
“Stay out of this, man. It don’t concern’ee.”
