Page 95 of A Castaway in Cornwall
“I want to go.”
“What are you saying? You want to go as far as the smugglers take me and then you’ll return with this Treeve of yours?”
“He is not mine. A friend at most. But yes, I want to go to Jersey. And I want to know you’ve been restored to your family.”
“Laura, I am not some ... message in a bottle or a lost locket.”
“I know. But you are important to me. And I have long wished to go to Jersey for myself. To see my parents’ grave, if there is one.”
He looked away, clearly torn, then ran an agitated hand over his face. “What about your poor uncle? He’ll be sick with worry.”
“I left him a note in his Bible. I know his habits well. He reads two chapters every morning. He’ll find it after we are safely gone.”
Alex shook his head. “What on earth did you tell him?”
“That I had something I had to do and not to worry about me. That I was safe in the company of two people he trusts and respects.”
“He’ll still worry.”
“Yes, and I am sorry for it. But what else could I do?”
“Stay home.”
She shook her head. “Fern Haven is not my home.”
He sighed deeply. “Oh, very well. Let’s go and see what your smuggler-friend has to say about a woman coming along. Many seafarers are superstitious about females on board.”
Treeve, she knew, liked females. Likedher. But the ship’s captain and crew? That could be a far different story.
They continued through the scrubby trees down a steep path to a moonlit point. A crescent of lighter sand shone between the darker water and shadows.
At first she saw nothing. Had Treeve deceived her? Then at the far side of the landing, she made out a small boat beside the rocks. She’d been beached stern first, bow out, ready to make a hasty departure.
“Is there a signal?” Alex whispered.
“Not that he mentioned.”
Laura raised her voice slightly. “Treeve? It’s us.”
“Us?” Treeve appeared from the shadows as if by magic. Dressed in tall boots, caped carrick coat, and wool cap, he looked less like the polished gentleman she knew.
He frowned and walked closer. “What are you wearing? I took you for strangers. Miss Callaway, I am surprised to see you. I know I encouraged you to find a way across the river, but I didn’t think you’d come so far.”
Laura licked dry lips. “I want to see him carried to safety, and I—”
“And here I thought you missed me. Ah well.” He tipped his head back. “Wait ... are you saying you plan to sail with us? I don’t know that my crew will accept a female passenger....”
“Treeve, please. I want to go to Jersey. I want to visit my parents’ grave in St. Helier.”
“Oh.” He shifted from foot to foot. “Are you truly determined to come?”
“I am.”
Treeve huffed. “Very well.” He peered into the darkness behind them. “Are you certain no one followed you out here?”
“As certain as I can be. I checked behind us several times.”
“Good.” He turned to a man lingering near the boat. “Let’s go.”
