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

‘We will find the truth and clear both you and Sam of any wrongdoing,’ she said.

‘You look very determined.’

‘To the point of stubbornness,’ Millie said with a grin.

Sir Anthony had not interviewed Sam when they’d stumbled into his home the night previous. Instead, he’d ordered that a room be made ready for his guest, stating that the whole matter would make more sense in the morning.

In the morning, Sir Anthony provided a pleasant repast and then announced a delay in the interview.

‘I think it would be better to investigate the matter in London,’ he said. ‘They have greater expertise in such matters.’

After learning this plan, Sam requested pen and paper and wrote to Frances, Millie and Banks, apprising them of the situation. In these missives, he assured them that they need not worry, while requesting that Banks pack and follow them on the five-day journey as quickly as possible.

In Millie’s letter he apologised for his rudeness the evening previous and requested that she allow Frances to remain at Lansdowne and to keep her safe. He added also that he would still do everything possible to ensure her sister need not marry Harwood.

As he signed and sealed the notes, he realised that, in some ways, he trusted Millie to an extent greater than any other. Mysterious fiancé or not, he felt an absolute certainty that she would shelter Frances. He trusted not only her willingness, but also her practical efficacy in doing so.

However, he could not so easily dismiss this almost or ‘unofficial’ engagement from his thoughts. Indeed, he continued to ruminate to a degree which was not sensible to the situation. What had she meant by that anyway? Why hadn’t she mentioned this before? How had he been so oblivious that this woman was promised to someone else?

And why did it feel as though the bottom had fallen out of his world? At no time had he consciously considered that they might have a future. Indeed, they had been too busy surviving the present. Moreover, Millicent Lansdowne was not the sort of individual he had envisaged marrying. Of course, he’d imagined marriage with only one individual, Miss Annie Whistler, who now appeared to him as vapid and entirely lacking in wit. He had learned the hard way that attraction was a fickle emotion.

Still, Millicent had made him less lonely. Briefly, he’d felt as though he had someone at his side. Indeed, he supposed this was true, at least with Frances.

However, he had been reminded that nothing lasted for ever and that he had learned long ago that life was a solo occupation.

Sir Anthony’s conveyance proved to be a large, cumbersome vehicle with a musty scent that suggested an aromatic history of all the shoes and cloaks it had housed. Sir Anthony proved considerate, offering him every courtesy—even suggesting a hot brick or blanket—so much so that Sam feared Sir Anthony had mistaken him for an elderly maiden aunt.

Still, as they rattled forward, Sam decided that going to London might not be a bad idea, even if it would be tiring. In Cornwall, he trusted no one, worrying that anyone could be connected with the wreckers or, if not conspirators themselves, might tip off the guilty party. In London he might be better able to seek justice without inviting risk.

As for Jason, his disappearance remained a mystery and Sam still worried about his own involvement. Perhaps he had seen his brother-in-law leave the house after his fight with Frances. Had he followed him, wanting to talk? Had they come to blows? Or had one of them merely tripped and the other had not offered assistance?

All scenarios seemed improbable, but then, half-drowning in the sea and being rescued by a female smuggler seemed improbable.

They were barely forty minutes into their journey when Sam noted the horses slowing and saw they were approaching a tavern just up the hill from Fowey.

‘It is convenient that we are here,’ Sir Anthony said, raising his stick to bang on the roof of the carriage. ‘Let us go in. I must chat to the landlord.’

The carriage stopped and Sir Anthony got out. ‘You might as well come, too. I rather think a brandy might be in order. Make the journey more pleasant.’

Sam followed. He was surprised that they were breaking their journey already, but was in no position to object. Besides, Banks would be better able to catch up with him this way.

Sir Anthony was served a generous brandy and consequently nodded off by the blazing fire. Sam watched the magistrate and was just considering waking him, when he heard a commotion in the hallway and the innkeeper’s raised voice. ‘Really, miss! I must protest. You cannot just stride in—’

The door was flung open and Miss Lansdowne entered the chamber, bringing with her a chill draft.

‘I am glad you have not left. You are still going to London?’ she asked, glancing towards Sir Antony, who was snoring sonorously.

‘Yes.’

‘Do not.’

‘Not exactly up to me,’ Sam said.

The conversation roused Sir Anthony, who straightened, blinking owlishly at Millie through his spectacles.

‘Miss Lansdowne,’ he said. ‘I did not expect to see you. You have news of Jason?’

‘No, sir, I just wanted to assure you and Mr Garrett that we will look after Mrs Ludlow and, of course, write to you in London if there is any news.’ She beamed at Sam. ‘Banks also requested that I provide you with an additional portmanteau, which I have left at your carriage.’

‘How is my sister?’ Sam asked.

‘Making progress. I know Marta and Flora will look after her and, of course, she can stay with us for as long as she would like.’

‘Very considerate, Miss Lansdowne.’ Sir Antony beamed. ‘Sorry for our swift departure. I thought it better to involve the professionals, you know. A bit out of my bailiwick.’

‘So wise,’ she agreed.

‘Anyway,’ Sir Anthony said, placing his hands on the arms of the chair and inhaling deeply, as he prepared himself for the effort of rising. ‘Mustn’t linger, long