Caught in a Cornish Scandal by Eleanor Webster (top novels of all time .txt) 📗

after quickly directing Flora to make tea and have the nursemaid bring the child to Mrs Ludlow, she turned to Sam, brows raised in question.

‘Frances needs a place to stay,’ he said bluntly.

‘To stay? As in “remain for the night”?’

‘Yes.’

‘I—’ She paused, for once uncertain about what to say. ‘I was not expecting that.’

‘I know this is unusual.’

‘Somewhat,’ Millie agreed. ‘We also have limited furniture, although we still have a guest room. However, we cannot offer Mrs Ludlow her familiar comforts.’

‘I do not care if she has fluffy pillows, I just want—I need her to feel safe.’ Worry was etched in his face, lines bracketing his mouth and deepening the crease between his brows.

‘She feels unsafe?’

He rubbed his temples, stepping further away from the parlour door and glancing about as though worried they might be overheard.

‘I do not understand it myself. Jason is still missing. Sir Anthony brought Frances in to ask questions, but he did not arrest her. However, she is unwilling to return to her own home.’

‘Why?’

He pushed his hand through his hair in the way that had become familiar to her. ‘She is nervous, as you may have noted. She seems quite convinced that her mother-in-law sees her as an unfit mother. Apparently, Mrs Ludlow is positive that her son is dead and Frances is...involved.’

‘Would Jason’s mother not want to hold on to every hope that he is alive?’

‘One would think. Maybe it is harder to hold on to hope in these situations.’

‘Do you think she would harm Frances?’

‘I am sure not. However, proximity to her will harm Frances.’ He stopped, the worry for his sister touching. ‘And I fear for my sister’s sanity. I think she will become very deeply distressed if she spends more time at Manton Hall.’

Millie nodded. ‘I have feared sometimes for my mother’s sanity, although she is doing better now.’

‘Will it distress her? Having Frances to stay?’

‘No, likely she will be happy to provide hospitality to a woman of superior social status. And, yes, of course she can stay.’

‘Thank you,’ he said.

‘And has your memory come back at all? Did seeing your sister help?’ she asked quickly, needing to fill in the quiet.

‘Not with my memory.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Did you find out anything about Harwood?’

‘Mother confirmed that we owe a thousand pounds.’ She felt the smart of tears in her eyes.

He took her hand. ‘I will help. I will get my solicitor on it. Harwood will not marry your sister.’

Even the light touch of his hand seemed to sear through her so that she felt the contact throughout her body. It seemed her heart beat faster while her breath became uneven. For a moment, Millie had that feeling of time standing still and everything and everyone becoming distant and unimportant. Only she and this man existed. Her body felt that peculiar feeling as though her skin and every part of her had developed a tingling sensitivity as her vision narrowed and she heard the pounding of her pulse against her eardrums.

In that moment, it seemed that the fancy clothes and dingy house did not matter and they were as they had been in the cottage.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Truly, I thank you.’

In that tiny pause he seemed very large in the entrance hall and very close. Indeed, it took willpower and inordinate physical effort to turn away from him.

‘Now I must assist Flora in the kitchen. If you will excuse me,’ she said as she hurried down the hallway, needing to find a larger space, their small entrance way having become claustrophobic, the air sucked from it.

‘By the way, Miss Lansdowne?’

She turned back. He had moved towards the parlour door, but paused, his hand on the knob. ‘You clean up quite delightfully.’

Chapter Nine

Millie flushed. She was already partway down the corridor towards the back of the house, but even from that distance Sam could see the pink stain her cheeks.

There was an excitement in seeing her again which even his worry over Frances couldn’t quite negate. He had not realised his own eagerness to see her again until she’d greeted him in that dismal threadbare parlour. There was a thrill in seeing her as the proper young lady in her plain, well-cut dress with her hair tidy. It was not only that she looked attractive, but also that he knew that other part of her, as though they shared an intoxicating secret.

He watched as she walked briskly towards the back of the house. The evidence of the family’s poverty was everywhere: in the bare floors, the pale square of lighter wood where a grandfather clock had once stood and the rectangles bereft of pictures. He must talk to Banks and ensure that any food or additional coal required by Frances was provided.

On entering the parlour, he was pleased to see that Noah now slept in his bassinet while the three ladies appeared to be conversing pleasantly. Millie’s younger sister was detangling a mess of silks while Mrs Lansdowne discussed hairstyles and the delight of the classically inspired modern looks. Frances still appeared abstracted, but seemed to be paying some attention.

Indeed, the scene was so entirely normal he almost wanted to laugh. It was the first time anything had been even a little ‘normal’ since he had regained consciousness on that pirate’s ship. Indeed, even thinking the phrase ‘pirate’s ship’ made him almost chuckle because it was so bizarre and completely discordant with this scene of pleasant domesticity.

He was about to sit down when he heard footsteps outside. The door opened and Flora and Millie entered with a tea tray. This was placed on a table and Mrs Lansdowne moved forward to pour the tea. She handed a cup to Millie, who placed it beside Frances with a reassuring smile.

‘Mother, I have delightful news. Dear Mrs Ludlow has been finding the sea breezes too brisk. Manton Hall is dreadfully windy at this time of year and we are so much more sheltered. She would like to stay here for a day or so and,