Lost At Sea Read online

  “Pirates! Yes!” Raymond declared.

  Chapter Two

  Eliza stepped back from Natasha’s warm hug, her cheeks heating. She wasn’t used to embracing people as a form of welcome, although it was nice to be greeted so enthusiastically. The embrace dispelled Elisa’s concern that they would be imposing upon Natasha and Seth.

  Natasha took her elbow and steered her toward the big archway, through Elisa could see large windows and the insipid, dreary day outside.

  Corcoran, Natasha’s butler, beckoned Raymond and Jenkins, the nurse, to follow him up the stairs. Jenkins held Will’s hand and patiently waited for him to take each step with his short legs, as they followed the two men.

  Vaughn let out a slow breath as he and Elisa paused at the top of two small steps down into the large drawing room beyond the arch. “I am beginning to understand why Seth always talks about Innesford with such pride. This is magnificent.”

  “He does love this place,” Natasha admitted. “I have grown to love it, too.”

  Elisa’s attention was pulled away from the sea she could glimpse on the horizon, to a chair by the large fireplace at the other end of the room. “Annalies!” She hurried down the room to where the Princess sat in a comfortable chair, her feet upon a stool and a warm blanket over her lap.

  Anna held up her arms. “Oh, Elisa! It is so good to see you! I cannot stand—no one will let me.”

  “Of course you must not,” Elisa said. She bent and held Anna as firmly as Natasha had held her. It did not feel awkward this time. It felt quite appropriate and a perfect expression of her delight.

  Elisa dropped down so she could examine Anna’s face closely. “Are you well, Anna?”

  “Well enough.” Anna’s hand gripped hers. “My days are fearful, Elisa. I move from hope to terror from one heart beat to the next. How did you withstand it? How do you move on from…from…” She swallowed.

  Elisa sighed, sadness tearing at her chest and making her eyes sting. “I don’t know that I have,” she admitted. “I think of Sarah every day. Then, things happen—Vaughn needs something, or Raymond. Then there is Will, who has Vaughn’s determination. They need me, you see. So I move through my days, one after another.”

  She glanced at the mound of Anna’s belly, hidden beneath the lap robe. “You may yet avoid my misfortune, Anna. If Natasha and I can arrange it, we will. You must relax, my dear. Exciting yourself this way can’t help.”

  “I should be in bed. The doctor says I must, only I can’t stand the idea of lying upon a bed upstairs, while everyone is down here.” Anna grimaced. “I feel better, down here among everyone.”

  “Where is Rhys?” Elisa asked, looking around.

  “He took Iefan for a walk, to see the lighthouse.” Anna’s cheek dimpled. “I do believe it is Rhys who wanted to see the lighthouse. Iefan isn’t old enough to understand what one is, although the sea air will make him sleep, this afternoon.”

  There came a great rattling upon the grand staircase at the front of the house, then Raymond rushed into the room, almost running. He came to a skidding halt, his cheeks tinged pink. “Mother, I can’t sleep in the nursery! There are rows of beds up there and I fit none of them.”

  Vaughn raised his brow. “I think you are exaggerating, Raymond. There may several beds, but not rows of them.”

  Natasha laughed. “Actually, there are rows of them. Two rows, in fact. I think you’ve forgotten how many children are on hand, Vaughn.”

  “Exactly,” Raymond added. “Thank you, Aunt Natasha.” He moved to the windows to gaze out upon the grass, the wild coastal bushes beyond and the dark, bruised surface of the sea. It was raining again.

  Vaughn frowned. “There is not that many children, surely? Raymond and Will—”

  “I’m not a child, Father,” Raymond pointed out stiffly.

  Elisa got to her feet. “Raymond, you should not speak to Vaughn that way.”

  “Sorry,” Raymond said shortly, glancing at Vaughn. “Although I maintain I should not be included on a list of children in the house.”

  “A good point,” Annalies said, from by the fire. “Raymond, you have grown at least three hand spans since I last saw you. I think you might be taller than Rhys, which I thought was quite impossible for any man.”

  “I’m six foot one,” Raymond said with pride.

  “You’ve an inch or two to go, then, if you are to beat Rhys,” Annalies said.

  Vaughn held up his hand and touched his fingertips in turn. “Will, Rhys’ Iefan, Lilly and Cian…”

  “Neil and baby Daniel,” Natasha finished. “By year’s end, there will be another child to add to the list.” She smiled at Anna.

  Anna’s return smile was tremulous.

  Elisa dropped her gaze to her hands, her heart hurting. She did not dare look at Vaughn, afraid that his expression might be accusatory, even though he had not once breathed a murmur of blame.

  “That is seven small beds and cribs,” Natasha added. “We put them all in the same attic room, to keep each other company. The children can romp up there without fear of disturbing anyone, although they rarely stay upstairs.” Her smile was warm. “I quite understand Raymond’s reluctance to sleep there. We shall find you another room, Raymond.”

  “What about out there?” Raymond asked, pointing to something through the window.

  Elisa moved to his side. “Those are stables, I believe. You want to sleep in the hay among the horses’ hooves?”

  “No, above the stables. There’s a room up there, isn’t there?” He spun to look at Natasha.

  “The carriage house? It was used by the stable manager, until he got married last year and bought a cottage in Truro,” Natasha said. “I suppose, if your parents are happy with the arrangement, you could use the carriage house.”

  Raymond turned to Elisa. “Please say yes,” he said, his voice low, with a deeper timbre that reminded Elisa yet again that Raymond was growing up far too fast for her own comfort. He was nearly a man already and when she heard that older note in his voice, she caught a glimpse of the man he would be.

  “Vaughn?” Elisa asked.

  Vaughn looked at the carriage house. “Does the door have a lock, Natasha?”

  “Yes, and a stout bar,” Natasha replied.

  “Perhaps, for tonight, let’s see how you like it,” Vaughn told Raymond. “The wind is unceasing here and the trees beyond will make some strange sounds in the night. The horses, too. You may find it more unsettling than peaceful. In which case, you are free to return to the house tomorrow night.” His smile was kindly.

  Raymond shook his head. “It will be grand,” he declared. “Perfectly grand,” he added for emphasis, staring at the carriage house.

  Elisa glanced about the elegant room once more, taking in the groups of sofas, couches and armchairs. The sideboards and occasional tables. Sconces and lamps showed that the room was well used at night, too.

  That reminded her of something. “Natasha, where is Seth? We have not seen him since we arrived. Does he not want to greet us?”

  Natasha had been resettling Anna’s lap rug. At Elisa’s question, she straightened abruptly.

  Anna bit her lip and looked at her hands.

  “What is it? Has something happened?” Vaughn asked.

  Natasha cleared her throat. “He’s away at sea at the moment,” she said. Her voice was strained. She turned and leaned against the mantel shelf, her gaze on the flames, one hand holding her petticoats away from the fire.

  Anna glanced at Natasha, then looked at Elisa and Vaughn and Raymond, by the windows. “He’s overdue,” she said softly.

  Elisa hurried to where Natasha stood and picked up her hand. “Oh, Natasha!”

  “How long overdue?” Vaughn asked quietly.

  “Five weeks,” Anna said.

  Elisa patted Natasha’s shoulder. “There has been no word at all?”

  “There never is,” Natasha said, her tone wooden and her voice even. “A letter would travel no
faster than the ship he is on. When Seth returns, I will know then that all is well.”

  “Seth spoke of a last journey to Australia, to conclude some business affairs there,” Vaughn said slowly. “Is that where he was going?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Elisa said firmly, drawing Natasha away from the fire. “Natasha, please show me your lovely home. I want to see every inch of it.”

  Natasha swallowed. Then she brushed down her dress and rearranged the folds over her petticoats. “Yes,” she said, her tone crisp. “Then I will show you the gardens and the maze.”

  “There is a maze?” Raymond asked, his attention pricking.

  “The largest in southern England,” Natasha told him.

  “Larger than Hampton Court?” Raymond pressed.

  “Well, he does know a fact or two, after all,” Vaughn said, smiling.

  Elisa swept Natasha toward the door. “A tour, please,” she said firmly.

  “Yes, a tour. Can we see the maze first?” Raymond asked, following them.

  * * * * *

  Despite Natasha’s assurances that the weather in October in Cornwall could be pleasant, the rain settled in for days at a time, broken only by days of thick cloud overhead and damp winds that made walking for long an uncomfortable experience.

  The nurses and nannies attempted to keep the children upstairs, although after a few days of confinement, tempers grew short. Natasha spoke to Corcoran, who in turn spoke to the nurses. The children were given the freedom to explore the house from top to bottom, with an adult lingering nearby to keep watch. They were also taken for strolls along the beach, where they could work off some of their energy.

  Often, the children squatted on the carpets in the drawing room, playing with toys and talking with the delightful chatter of the young. Occasionally, there were tempers and tears, only the presence of the adults seemed to calm the children.

  The adults – Natasha and Anna and Rhys, Vaughn and Elisa and sometimes even Raymond, too – tended to linger in the drawing room themselves. Reading became a favorite occupation, as everyone plucked volumes from Seth’s large library. Conversation interspersed the reading. So did long moments of staring through the windows, studying cormorants and gulls as they hovered and dived over the cliffs, and the long lift of waves roll into the beach.

  In the second week of their stay, Elisa found herself studying Rhys’ drawn face and the shadow in his eyes, puzzling over it. It wasn’t merely his concern for Annalies, for the Princess seemed quite comfortable in the big armchair with everyone fussing around her. Iefan was a contented baby, happy to bounce on his father’s knee, or sit on the carpet by his feet and whack at toy soldiers with his chubby fists. Rhys was not concerned about Iefan.

  Rhys would look out the windows for long moments, rarely bothering to read his book.

  “There is something troubling you, Rhys,” Elisa said, putting down her book. “What is it?” Because there were no children in the drawing room at the moment, the room was quiet and her voice travelled. They were all sitting at the end of the room by the fire, in a loose, comfortable group around Anna’s big chair.

  Rhys stirred, bringing his gaze away from the window. Anna also lifted her head, to study Rhys.

  “It is nothing,” Rhys said, shaking his head. He gave Elisa a small smile. “I was wondering what it would be like to fly for thousands of miles, as migrating birds do.”

  “Or to fly at all,” Vaughn added. He leaned over the arm of his chair and topped Rhys’ sherry glass. The men had both got into the habit of pouring for themselves, not bothering Corcoran with multiple demands upon his time, or disturbing the peace of the room.

  “I do believe you are evading my question,” Elisa said. Her voice shook slightly for she rarely pressed for direct answers from anyone. “There is sadness in your eyes.”

  Annalies closed her book with a small thud.

  “Anna, no,” Rhys said swiftly.

  “Do not tell me ‘no’, Rhys Davies,” she said shortly. “If we cannot tell these people, who are more our family than ever our real families have been, then who can we tell?”

  “Tell of what?” Vaughn asked. “Rhys?”

  Natasha put her book aside, too, and entwined her fingers.

  Rhys ruffled his hair awkwardly.

  “The partners at his law firm asked him to join them,” Annalies said.

  Rhys sighed and dropped his hand.

  “A partnership?” Vaughn asked. “But that’s wonderful. Well done, Rhys.”

  “They want five thousand pounds for his partnership,” Anna said.

  The room grew quiet once more. Elisa felt the same ripple of shock she suspected the others were feeling. Five thousand pounds was an enormous amount of money, even for Rhys and Annalies, who could draw upon Annalies’ inheritance, which the Queen’s exchequer controlled.

  “That is a normal amount for a partnership, these days,” Rhys said.

  “It’s just money. There is always a way around such matters,” Vaughn said dismissively. “That isn’t what is making you look as if you are on your way to a funeral.”

  Annalies flinched.

  Rhys’ face, which was always thin, grew pale and strained.

  Vaughn sat up. “That was close to the bone,” he said softly. “You’d better spill it all, now, Rhys.”

  Annalies reached for Rhys’ hand and held it. He didn’t object to the public display, which was even more disturbing. Instead, his fingers closed about her hand and clung.

  He looked at them, his expression stark. “The partners explained that they offered the partnership because of long years of sterling service.”

  Natasha frowned. “They were lying?” she asked, puzzled.

  “Misdirecting,” Elisa said softly. “Yes, Rhys?”

  He let out a breath. “Yes. They would not state aloud the real reason they were moved to make the offer.”

  “Despite they and you both knowing that reason?” Vaughn added.

  Rhys nodded, pushing his hand through his hair once more. “The Crown asked me to prosecute a criminal case. The hiring of barristers is not unusual. When they feel they do not have the necessary expertise to do justice to the case, they will bring in outside assistance.”

  No one spoke. The fire crackled and a log popped.

  Rhys’ eyes seemed to grow darker, the bleakness spreading. “I took the case. One does not refuse the Crown. I wish I could have found a way, though.”

  Vaughn leaned forward. “A criminal case, you said.”

  “Sarah Dazley was found guilty of murder,” Rhys said heavily. “They hanged her on August 5th in a public execution outside Bedford Prison. I know, because I was required to be there to witness the execution.”

  Natasha gave a soft moan.

  Elisa’s throat tightened. Her eyes swum. “Oh, Rhys…”

  Rhys bent and pressed his fingers to his temples. “The defense was good. Very good. I made sure they did everything they could to ensure a fair trial. I thought that if I tested them, they would rise to the challenge and her defense would be all the more efficient. Yet the execution went ahead, anyway. I keep asking myself, if I had not been so thorough, if my prosecution had been weaker, then perhaps…”

  He closed his eyes. “Then, eleven days later, the partners made their offer.”

  The silence was longer this time.

  Outside, the rain fell in earnest, splatting and tapping against the windows and making them rattle. The wind shrieked.

  Everyone stirred uneasily.

  Small footsteps sounded on the tiles in the front hall. Lillian ran into the room, navigating the steps down to the floor a careful stride at a time with her short four-year-old legs, then ran to Natasha and hid her face in Natasha’s dress.

  As Natasha comforted her, the other children appeared one at a time, their eyes wide.

  Everyone jumped when the windows rattled once more. Raymond stepped into the room and closed the French door hurriedly, then shook the water from hi
m. “My lord, that wind is just awful. I feel cold simply listening to it. I need to sit by the fire for a while, if you don’t mind.”

  He pushed one of the padded stools over to the opposite side of the fire from Annalies’ chair and sat, putting his back to the flames.

  Elisa settled William on the floor, the horses and soldiers in front of him, close enough to her skirt that he could touch it if he wanted to. Cian plopped onto the carpet beside Will and observed, while Neil stood swaying in front of them, his thumb in his mouth, his dark eyes absorbing what the other two were doing. He was only two years old and barely walking, yet fiercely independent, all the same. Two was such a troublesome age.

  Rhys lifted Iefan up and carried him over to where the other boys were playing and put him down again. He ruffled Iefan’s dark blond hair, then returned to Annalies’ side.

  While the wind screamed and the rain fell, the room returned to quiet once more.

  Vaughn topped up Rhys’ glass again. He paused to rest his hand on Rhys’ shoulder in a comradely fashion. Rhys patted Vaughn’s hand. Neither spoke, although Rhys did not appear quite so strained as he had a while ago.

  Natasha drew her sewing box to her side and sorted silks and threads.

  Elisa found her gaze returning to William once more. Her heart stirred and ached as she watched him playing with the horses on wheels, making them roll by themselves.

  “I do believe that it is you, Elisa, who now looks sad,” Natasha said.

  Elisa jumped and looked up guiltily. “No, no, I was only…” No handy excuse sprang to mind. She sighed.

  Natasha’s expression was troubled.

  Elisa dared to look at Vaughn. He watched her warily, as she suspected he would be. They all were looking at her.

  She recalled what Anna had said just a while ago: If we cannot tell these people, who are more our family than ever our real families have been, then who can we tell?

  Elisa sighed again. “You all know about Sarah, whom we lost, last year?”