Page 22 of The Smuggler & the Society Bride

Her restless, more wilful side replied that it was hardly necessary to be so careful, since she was ruined already. She had too much sense to allow things to go too far, so she might as well enjoy the much greater freedom she had in the country to talk and walk and bandy words with him, unfettered by the irritation of the trailing chaperone that would have been unavoidable in London.

Why not take advantage of her freedom to enjoy his company? Having been a reigning Belle, she’d grown accustomed to being surrounded by handsome young men; it was only natural she appreciated him providing a pleasure that had once filled so much of her life. She squelched the little voice pointing out that, during the month after her arrival in Cornwall before she met him, she had lived quite satisfactorily without being attended by handsome young men.

It was more difficult to suppress the woebegone feeling of missing a friend. Which ought to be reason enough for her to try to wean herself from the addictive pleasure of his company, the prudent voice reasserted with asperity.

‘Well, Miss Foxe, shall we have some tea before Eva arrives?’ the vicar’s deep baritone interrupted the arguments.

Startled, Honoria turned to him, jolted further still to find the room now deserted. A guilty flush mounting her cheeks, she realized she’d been wool-gathering so intently, even the noise of the little girls’ departure had not recalled her. ‘Tea would be lovely, thank you. I believe I shall take a turn about the garden and watch for Eva, if that would be convenient?’

‘It will do you good to stretch your legs,’ he approved. ‘I’ll call when tea is ready.’

They walked out together, Father Gryffd heading into the vicarage, Honoria into the garden. Determined to put into practice the last, more prudent counsel to purge herself of longing for the presence of Captain Hawksworth, she set off at a brisk pace. She’d made two purposeful circuits around the kitchen garden when, in the distance, she spotted a single figure approaching.

Her pulse jumped in anticipation, until she almost immediately discerned the stranger walking toward the vicarage was female, rather than male. Impatiently stifling an immediate disappointment, as the newcomer drew closer, she realized it was Laurie Steavens, looking lovely in a smart new pelisse and bonnet.

Concerned, Honoria walked out to meet her. ‘Is something wrong? Is Eva ill?’

‘No, she and Ma are both fine.’ Giving a furtive glance toward the vicarage, she continued, ‘I’m glad to have caught you alone, miss. I wanted to let you know if you need me to tell Ma anything about Evie, you won’t find me at the Gull no more, though you can still leave a message for me there.’

‘Have you lost your job?’ she asked in alarm.

‘N-not exactly,’ Laurie said, avoiding Honoria’s gaze. ‘I’m…with Mr John now. He didn’t want me working at the inn no more, cleaning gentlemen’s bedchambers.’

The captain’s chamber? Honoria wondered. ‘I’m surprised,’ she replied carefully. ‘He seemed to have an aversion to Eva, and I got the impression you didn’t like him very much.’

Laurie gave her the flicker of a smile. ‘But he likes me and don’t mind Eva long as she keeps out of the way. He promised he’d be generous with his blunt, and he has. Been able to buy fine wool stuff for a new cloak for Ma and shoes for her and Eva. He sent around a whole haunch of beef from the butcher’s, too. I can’t recall when we last had meat, other than a stew Mrs K let me bring home sometimes from the Gull.’ Finally looking up, she met Honoria’s eye, in hers a plea for understanding. ‘I…couldn’t exactly refuse him.’

Honoria nodded. ‘I don’t suppose you could.’ Honoria thought of the man’s previous treatment of Eva. Something about Kessel’s eyes and harsh line of mouth made her uneasy. ‘Does he treat you well?’

Laurie shrugged. ‘Well enough, I suppose.’

Honoria wasn’t reassured; indeed, her feeling of foreboding deepened. ‘If there is a…problem, will you promise to tell me?’

Smiling, Laurie shook her head. ‘If there was a problem, miss, what could you do?’ She straightened her shoulders. ‘I don’t mean to refine on it. What happens, happens. If this lets me take better care of Ma and Evie, I mean to do it while it lasts. You won’t tell Father Gryffd, will you? I know, he’ll find out soon enough, but I’d rather it be later than sooner. Foolish, I know, since it isn’t any worse than what I already done and some might think better. Just…I’d rather he not know yet.’

Everything in her protested Laurie’s situation. But the girl was right; there was nothing Honoria could do. Even Aunt Foxe, liberal in thinking as she was, was unlikely to upset her household by employing a girl who’d taken to Laurie’s occupation. Nor had she any money to offer in compensation for Laurie’s refusing to accept the landlord’s son’s protection. Besides, truth to tell, she had no right to interfere in whatever Laurie decided to do with her life.

Still, impotent rage flamed in her breast at the path Laurie had felt necessary to take. And she’d never felt more helpless.

‘Well, I’ll be going now, miss,’ Laurie said.

When Laurie turned to walk away, Honoria impulsively grabbed her sleeve. ‘All the same, will you let me know if there is trouble?’

Laurie studied her a minute, then shook her head. ‘Kind of you, but it be best if you don’t get involved. Mr John’s got a wicked temper and he don’t like nobody interfering in his business.’

She paused, then added in a wondering tone, ‘I don’t know why a lady like you’d be concerned about the likes of me, but I thank you for it. For watching Evie, too.’

‘You’re welcome. I wish…I wish I could do more.’

Laurie smiled. ‘Mostly all we females can do is endure and survive. A good day to you, miss.’

She walked away, the jaunty feather in her new bonnet bobbing in the breeze.

Honoria watched her retreating figure, not able to shake that uneasy feeling. She wished she might confide in Father Gryffd, who had care for all his parishioners and seemed to have a special interest in Laurie. He was certainly in a better position to protect the girl—but she had specifically asked Honoria to keep the news a secret. She couldn’t justify breaking a confidence just because she disliked the landlord’s son.

The girl was out of sight when Father Gryffd appeared at the door, calling to Honoria that he was bringing tea and some macaroons fresh from the oven to the schoolroom—and Eva arrived.

Seeing the eager girl always lifted her spirits. Running to Honoria, Eva gave her a hug, and began the rapid series of gestures Honoria was just beginning to comprehend.

Laughing, she caught the girl’s hands. ‘Slower, Eva, slower! I’m not so clever as you!’

That earned her a look of surprise followed by a grin so big, Honoria’s heart ached. How often in the girl’s short life, Honoria wondered, had the intelligent mind Honoria knew was trapped within Eva’s mute body been abused as backward and dull-witted?

Taking the child’s hand, she led her to the schoolroom and poured tea. Another pang went through Honoria as she saw how, watching her intently, Eva mimicked the set of Honoria’s fingers on her teacup, the curl of her finger, her upright posture sitting just at the edge of her chair.

Tea drunk, Honoria settled back to watch while Father Gryffd worked with the child. Soon, she was overcome again with the feelings of restlessness that had afflicted her the last several days.

She’d already decided to stop on her way back to Foxeden and do some sketching. By now she’d about picked the spring garden clean and buried Aunt Foxe’s rooms in floral arrangements and the stillroom in drying herbs. She’d found some charcoal and paper in her aunt’s library, which her aunt had said she was welcome to use.

She hoped the pastime would absorb some of her energy and distract her, if only for a time, from the gnawing sense of uncertainty that dogged her more and more frequently as her distress over her ruination dissipated and her concern about the future increased.

With the vicar and Eva absorbed in work to which she could add nothing useful, Honoria was thinking to slip away early, when a knock sounded on the schoolroom door. Mrs Wells peeped in to announce that Mr Hawksworth had called, wondering if the vicar would allow him to visit the schoolroom.

A surge of gladness carried away Honoria’s restlessness with the force and freshness of the sharp southeast wind on the Cornish cliffs. Her nerves hummed with anticipation and every sense seemed to heighten as he appeared in the doorway.

‘Mrs Kessel told me upon my return this morning that you’d begun your school, Father. I thought I’d stop by and see how our prospective knitting venturers are doing.’

‘Do come in! Though, as you see, most of our scholars have left for the day. If ’tis agreeable to you both, while I finish today’s lesson with Miss Eva, Miss Foxe can acquaint you with our progress.’

Though Honoria didn’t remember rising as he walked in, she found herself on her feet, her gaze locked on his face. He bowed and a guilty thrill made her heart hum as he gave her the smile she’d been trying not to crave for these last seven days.

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