21
An hour and a half later, the coach rumbled through the cobblestoned streets of Portpatrick, the damp salt air announcing their proximity to the sea. The small, picturesque town rested at the edge of a harbor that had been partially enclosed fifty years earlier to provide protection from the strong North Channel gales.
Many said the man-made breakwaters, which had been put in place with neither the advice nor the consent of the locals, were already on the verge of collapse. But for now they held, the ocean beating at them with each storm, every tide digging at their foundations beneath the deep water.
Jane slept restlessly but did not awaken, which Theodora was glad for. She suspected from the way Jane’s mouth had grown so tight at the start of their trip that the rocking of the coach had made her headache even worse.
Theodora pushed back the curtain, glad they were so close to Dunskey House.
Outside were simple seaside buildings—an inn, a tavern, and several small whitewashed, thatched-roof houses inhabited by the fishermen who manned the boats moored along the quay. The fresh scent of the ocean mingled with that of peat fires and the sea.
They turned down the main street and there, at the dock, sat the Emerald. Theodora had seen Conner’s flagship before, but it had been several years. The ship appeared so noble, polished and cleaned, more like a painting than a ship. Derrick had said time and again that no one kept a neater ship than Conner Douglas. Which shows where his heart truly is.
She leaned out the window to see Lance and Conner close behind. As they passed the street that led to the dock, Lance said something to Conner, then turned his horse down the lane and rode toward the ship.
“What’s happening?” Alice asked, crowding forward.
Theodora returned to her seat. “The squire is on his way to fetch the doctor from Mr. Douglas’s ship. They’ll join us at the house as soon as they can.”
“Oh. Have you seen Dunskey House? Is it very grand?” Alice asked.
“Mr. Douglas’s house is not grand, but with some work, it could be.”
Alice leaned past Theodora to the window. “Lor’! Mr. Douglas is riding right outside!” The maid waved wildly.
Sure enough, Conner was now riding alongside the coach, and Alice gazed at him greedily, her nose pressed to the glass. “He looks good enough to lick, don’t he?”
“Alice!” Her face hot, Theodora pulled the maid from the window.
As she did so she met Conner’s gaze. He winked and touched the brim of his hat.
It was a polite gesture any gentleman might make to a lady. But Conner did it with such rakish impudence that he stole her smile before she could stop it.
Embarrassed, she slid back in her seat, checking Jane, who was muttering in her sleep. With Theodora’s cool hand on her forehead, the girl rested more comfortably.
The road began to climb, and the coach swayed as the road became more deeply rutted. Theodora was glad for MacLeish’s cautious driving, which kept the movement to a minimum, for every jarring swing stirred poor Jane. After a few miles the road began to turn inland and the coach slowed before turning into a long, curving drive.
Theodora held back the curtain as Dunskey House came into view. The manor house sat on a bluff near a cliff on the North Channel, where majestic oaks cast shade over a long, grassy field that separated the house from the treacherous drop into the crashing water below. The crushed sandstone drive had aged over the centuries from gray to a creamy white and led the eye to the imposing house.
With red shutters and a gray slate tile roof, Dunskey was a large, square, three-story structure, with tall windows and a huge oaken door set within a simple pilaster. Thick vines climbed one wall, framing the windows and reaching for the roofline, while a huge oak—bigger than any tree Theodora had ever seen—sat to the east of the house, sheltering it from the heat of summer.
The overall impression was antiquity, simplicity, strength, and elegance. Or it would have except three of the shutters hung askew, having been broken in some storm and never repaired. Two windows were broken, as well, and several panes were missing in other windows, while several large tree limbs had fallen among the uncut shrubbery that had once been an imposing garden.
“Good lord, you’ve brought us to a hainted mansion!” Alice exclaimed.
“It’s not haunted,” Theodora said hotly. “It needs some care, but that’s the fate of houses where the owner is often gone. I— Oh, Jane’s awake.”
Jane, her eyes glassy, pushed herself upright, the blankets falling away.
Theodora smiled. “We are just now arriving at Mr. Douglas’s house.”
“Mr. Douglas? Is he—” The poor girl’s cough raked her body relentlessly.
Theodora waited anxiously until Jane’s coughing had subsided. “The doctor will be here soon; the squire went to fetch him.”
Jane’s lips quivered and tears filled her eyes. “I feel dreadful.”
The words were as plaintive as a child’s, and Theodora brushed Jane’s hair from her hot forehead. “You will feel better once we have you tucked up in a proper bed.”
The coach rolled to a stop, and Conner opened the door. His gaze went immediately to Jane. “Miss Simmons, I hope the journey was nae too difficult.”
Jane swallowed, grimacing at the pain. “I slept most of the way.”
“We need to get you some tea and honey.” He looked at Theodora.
“Of course,” she said. “And some laudanum, if there’s any in the house.”
“I daresay the housekeeper has some. If nae, Murray always carries it in his case. Jane, allow me to sweep you off your feet for a few moments.” Without giving her time to protest, he reached into the coach and lifted her into his arms.
The girl slipped her arms about his neck, resting her cheek against his shoulder trustingly.
Conner carried her to the house as Spencer came to pull out the steps for Alice and Theodora.
“Well!” Alice sniffed. “He didn’t offer to carry you to the house, did he?”
“Don’t be silly. I’m perfectly able to walk.” Theodora allowed Spencer to hand her down from the coach, and Alice followed.
Ahead of them, Theodora could hear Conner telling Jane how he’d purchased Dunskey House with the proceeds of his first effort as a privateer.
Jane listened, rapt, her eyes wide as she gazed up at him, her arms tight about his neck.
Conner’s expression was that of a brother with a sister, or perhaps even that of a parent with a child. Was this how Conner would be if he had a daughter? Theodora could almost imagine it—how tender he was, how careful he seemed to be of her feelings—
Good God. How could she imagine him as a father, when she couldn’t imagine him being responsible enough to be a husband? She frowned, thinking about this. Conner wasn’t lacking in the area of responsibility when it came to his ship and his position as a privateer. Then he took great pains to do whatever he could for the betterment of his fleet, ships, and crew. It was his damnable wanderlust that kept him from carrying that responsibility over into other areas.
The heavy oak door swung open as Conner reached it, and his housekeeper appeared. Mrs. MacAuley was an older woman with a mass of iron gray curls that peeked from under a lacy mobcap. She had a round face, a number of chins, and was so short that she seemed wider than she was tall.
As Conner strode past her the housekeeper started to curtsy, but the sight of her master carrying a young lady froze the curtsy in mid-dip. “Ah! This must be the ill young lady Ferguson was telling us aboot.”
“Where should I take her?” Conner asked as he went into the house.
“We’ve two bedchambers ready, with more to come. You may put her in either the green or the blue bedchamber.”
Conner walked straight for the stairs, Jane’s skirts trailing against his legs. “Which is the warmest?”
“The Green Room, sir. Top of the stairs and to the left.”
“Thank you.” He hurried up the flowing staircase. Spencer appeared with Jane’s small trunk and followed.
Theodora started to join them, Alice behind her, when the housekeeper exclaimed, “Miss Cumberbatch-Snowe! How nice to see you again!”
Theodora unbuttoned her pelisse and cast a hurried glance at Conner, but he was already at the top of the stairs and showed no sign of having heard the housekeeper’s greeting. Relieved, she sent Alice after him, only waiting for the maid to disappear from sight before turning back to Mrs. MacAuley. “It’s good to see you again. I didn’t expect to be back so soon, but we had a bit of an emergency.” She moved away from the staircase and added in a low voice, “I hope you don’t find this uncomfortable, but would you mind keeping my visit here a few months ago just between us?”
Mrs. MacAuley’s brows rose. “Och, ’tis a secret then, is it?”
“No, I just haven’t mentioned it yet to Mr. Douglas and don’t wish him to think I had nefarious plans in coming without him being aware of it.”
The housekeeper chuckled. “Nefarious? You?”
Theodora smiled. “We’ve been too busy to discuss such things, what with Miss Simmons being ill. After I tell him, of course you may say anything you wish. It would just be awkward if he found out from someone other than me.”
“Of course, miss.”
“Thank you. I hope our sudden arrival hasn’t put you out too much.”
“We’ve done what we could. As soon as Ferguson brought word the master was on his way, I hired some girls from town to help set the rooms to order. They’re working on the west bedchamber now, and should have it ready for occupancy soon.”
“Excellent. I should join Mr. Douglas in settling Miss Simmons in her room.”
“Shall I bring a tea tray? I’ve honey and whisky for the young lady, too. It might be of some help.”
“Thank you. And some laudanum, if you have it.”
“Aye, I’ve a wee drop or two. I’ll also bring a basin and some rose water to bathe her forehead. If you think of anything else, let me know.”
“Thank you.” Theodora went up the stairs, stopping on the landing to smile down at the housekeeper. “Thank you again. I know it’s a lot, being descended upon without warning.”
The housekeeper looked pleased, but waved a hand. “Pssht. I’m used to such; Mr. Douglas never says when he’s to come.” She looked about wistfully. “I just wish we were able to keep this house to the standard she deserves.”
“Perhaps one day,” Theodora agreed. It was a lovely house, and she’d been appalled when she’d seen it the first time months ago. Appalled and awakened. And launched upon this very journey, in fact.
And now, she’d come full circle. Sighing, she hurried to Jane’s room.