“Ais, Miss Easton, what a surprise to see ‘ee!” cried a lanky man who’d rushed out of the cottage to meet them. “An’ the good doctor, God be praised.”
As Linette moved ahead of him to greet Arthur Polkinghorne, Adam retrieved his black bag from the floor of the carriage. Then he followed the two ofthem inside, where he heard loud moans coming from a side room of the neatly kept cottage.
Without hesitation, Linette walked into the small bedroom, Adam and Mr. Polkinghorne crowding in behind her.
“Mrs. Polkinghorne, it’s me, Linette Easton,” she murmured to the plump, apple-shaped woman lying there covered to her double chin with blankets and her eyes tightly closed. “I’ve come to see youwith Dr. Whitaker—”
“Go away, go away! Let an old woman die in peace!”
“Oh, my, no, there will be no dying today. Dr. Whitaker would like to examine you…and then visit with you for a while, if you’d like. You can tell him all the news, just as you did with Dr. Philcup.”
“Truly?” One bright blue eye had popped open to survey Adam from head to foot, and then the other, although Mrs. Polkinghornelooked doubtful. “I would think such a fine upstanding gentleman too busy to spend much time with me—”
“Not at all, I’ve all the time in the world,” Adam broke in gently, coming forward. “Shall I sit here beside the bed? Maybe your husband would bring us each a cup of tea.”
“Artie, some hot tea!” blurted the woman, sitting up straight in the bed in her flannel nightgown and waving her arm asif she hadn’t an ailment in the world. “Didn’t ‘ee hear the doctor? An’ a cup for Miss Easton, too.”
“Oh, yes, that would be lovely, but I’ll take my tea in the other room. I’m sure you and Dr. Whitaker have much to talk about…privately, of course.”
With that, Linette turned around in the cramped space to walk past him, and to Adam’s surprise, she brushed her gloved fingers against his.
Yethe knew from her sudden gasp and widened gaze that she hadn’t intended such contact, and she glanced with alarm back at the bed.
Rose Polkinghorne, clearly having made a miraculous recovery, sat appraising them both with keen interest, which made Linette clasp her hands together and duck her head as she quickly exited the room.
Adam heard it then, a breathless “Oh, Lord!” as Linette didn’t stopto await her tea, but headed outside with the slamming of the front door, he imagined to wait with Prudie in the carriage.
“Ais, such a fine-looking girl, the good parson’s daughter, wouldn’t ‘ee agree, Dr. Whitaker? I’ve heard she can’t wait to leave for London for the Season, an’ that she’s been dreaming about it ever since her sister Marguerite had her turn three years past. Ah, but that’sstill a few months away. Plenty of time to change her mind…or to have someone change it for her. Come an’ sit, come an’ sit!”
***
“I knew you were the man to come to, Oliver,” Donovan said after downing a good swallow of home-brewed ale. “You don’t miss a thing in Porthleven, my friend, not a thing.”
“Ais, ‘tes my business to keep my eyes open, as well ‘ee know it, Yer Grace,” the white-beardedsea captain replied. “The two have hardly shown their faces these past three days since they came to the inn, though they’ve taken a likin’ to my Rebecca’s leek an’ pork pie. That shows some more good character, wouldn’t ‘ee say?”
Donovan nodded at Oliver Trelawny, one of Corie’s most trusted friends from her fair trading days that thankfully, had come to an end not long after their marriage.Oliver had sold his cutter, theFair Betty, and retired from the illicit smuggling of foreign goods, too, his and his wife’s comfortable quayside inn more than enough now to keep them busy.
“So he saved your Estelle from drownin’, this young fellow you’re looking for,” Oliver murmured, keeping his voice low no matter they had retreated to the back room to talk out of earshot of the other patrons.“Good thing ‘ee came today because the ship he bought passage on to Bristol is sailing at dusk. I heard him tell his dark-haired friend that he didn’t have enough coin to take them further. Shall I go upstairs with ‘ee, good character or no, just in case he might be harboring a pistol?”
Donovan shook his head, then drained his mug and rose from the scarred trestle table. “I’ve only come to thankhim, nothing more.”
“Well, if I hear any commotion, I’ll come running withmypistol, ‘ee can be sure, Yer Grace. Corie would ne’er forgive me if anything should happen to ‘ee under my roof!”
“Good enough, friend. My thanks.” Donovan left the back room without another word and strode past seated patrons, as grizzled as Oliver, who were smoking fragrant tobacco in their pipes and spinning yarns.Old sailors no longer fit for life on the sea, though the salt spray and cold wind still coursed through their veins. Quietly, he made his way up the narrow stairs, although the top two creaked in protest beneath his footsteps.
“Damnation,” he muttered, wondering if this Prince Valentin might indeed possess a pistol. He had his own weapon tucked into his belt beneath his coat, though he prayedhe wouldn’t have to draw it. He sensed the two men he sought were hiding from something or someone, which bespoke danger to him as surely as if he could smell it.
Once upstairs, the floorboards creaked, too, and the low voices he heard behind the second door flanking the lantern-lit hallway suddenly went silent. He could well imagine they weren’t expecting any visitors other than Rebecca Trelawnyor her hired help bringing up some food and drink, but he’d already decided not to rely upon subterfuge to get him inside the door. Instead, he took a deep breath and then knocked firmly.
“Who’s there?”
The low demand in lightly accented English added credence at once to Estelle’s tale, and his father-in-law’s. Just those two words alone confirmed to Donovan that the man on the opposite sideof the door was a gentleman.
“Donovan Trent, Duke of Arundale. If you’ll allow me to enter, I wish to speak with you.”
Another man’s voice, stunned, nervous, uttered something in French, but Donovan only marginally knew the language. A warning of some kind?
He tensed as a heavy bolt was drawn. The door slowly opened to reveal a lean young man with dark blond hair just as Estelle had described,dressed in a full-sleeved white shirt, dark trousers, and boots, and with features as striking as Lindsay’s husband, Jared Giles.
