Page 83 of The Cornish Mermaid

Jenifry picked up a beaker from the bedside table. “Couldn’t stop her. She were that worried about you, she swore she’d sit up and watch you herself. Wouldn’t let me nor Jago do it.”

Was that begrudging praise?

She slid a strong arm under his shoulders and held the beaker to his lips.

He gulped a few long mouthfuls of water. That was better, although he felt weak as a kitten. “What time is it?”

Jenifry snorted as she laid him down again. “As if I’d have an answer for that. ’Tis nigh on time for dinner, thass what. You been asleep all day if thass what you want to know. Morvoren said as sleep was what you needed and we wasn’t to disturb you.”

Another thought shouldered its way to the front of his mind. “The traitor?”

She tutted her tongue against her teeth. “That be for Jago to tell you. I’ll go fetch him.”

As she bustled out of the room, Kit closed his eyes again, shifting his arm a little to tentatively feel how bad it was. Hot pain sending jagged lightning bolts to his brain confirmed his suspicions. Best to lie still. But where was Morvoren sleeping? Not in the box room, surely?

His lips twitched in the hint of a smile. How easily thoughts of her brought that change in him. He’d always thought of himself as immune to love, if not the temptations of the flesh. But this wasn’t just lust he felt for her. This was an inner stirring of the heart, a longing to hold her in his arms and keep her safe. Yes, he wanted her physically, although maybe not right now. But another part of him craved her company, her laughter when she fell over her feet dancing, and her bravery astride a horse.

What would that bravery be like in bed? Despite his weakened state a stirring in his loins told him he wasn’t immune to her physical charms. His previous conviction that he couldn’t expose her to his lifestyle melted away. This raid had probably put a stop to his nighttime activities for quite some time to come. There’d be no more consignments from France coming to Nanpean Cove for some time after this, and he would have to revert to being Lord Ormonde at Carlyon Court and finding other ways to help his poor villagers. And as Lord Ormonde, he might need a lady by his side. A lady with a social conscience. Just as Morvoren had proved to have.

Footsteps clumped on the landing. Kit’s eyes flicked open as Jago came into the room in his outdoor clothes, bringing with him the smell of fresh air and horses. He paused on the threshold before coming to drop into the seat by the bed. “Well, Kitto,” he began. “That were a near thing.”

Kit nodded. “And would’ve been nearer still for all of us had it not been for Morvoren.”

Jago’s face scrunched up. “Aye. You’re right there. I were wrong about her, an’ I’m not ashamed to admit it. She’s a girl wi’ plenty o’ pluck. Despite them clothes she were wearin’ when you fished her out the sea.” He grunted. “An’ what she be wearin’ right now.”

Kit couldn’t help the chuckle. If only his uncle knew the truth. He wasn’t sure he believed it himself, except for the fact it seemed more likely than that she was a mermaid. He’d been addlepated when she’d told him, and it had seemed a good explanation of how she’d come to know he’d been betrayed and driven post haste all the way from Ormonde in his pursuit. But now? Was it really true? Would he ever have the courage to share the story with Jago?

He licked his lips again. What he needed was a flagon of sweet cider to wet his whistle. “Is she all right?”

Jago nodded. “She’s a good little nurse. Stitched up your arm an’ made a proper job of it. But she’s exhausted. Been on the road for days, Sam says, an’ rid the last ten miles on a hired carriage horse without a saddle.” He chuckled. “She’ll be a mite stiff when she wakes up, I’d wager.”

Jago might as well be the first to hear. “I’m going to ask her to marry me,” Kit said.

No surprise showed on Jago’s face. “Thought you might. She’s a girl to be grateful for, like your mother. A girl as brave as Elestren always were. A girl not afraid to get her hands dirty and help the Gentlemen when needed.” His eyes took on a faraway expression as he stared toward the open window. “I remember her in my old britches up on that pernickety mare Father had. Slipper, her name were. A wild girl, your mother was, but your father tamed her.” He laughed. “Well, he tamed her a bit.”

His attention returned to Kit. “When’re you plannin’ on having the weddin’ then?”

Kit grinned. “As soon as my arm’s up to it and the banns can be called. As long as she says yes, that is.”

Jago nodded. “I thought as much. No point in waitin’, I’d say.”

But another thing tugged Kit’s mind back to the present. “Aleck Tregothnan. What’s been done about him?” That his friend Aleck had betrayed them horrified him, but it could have been no one else. Now Tregothnan’s shiftiness on being caught in Launceston made sense: his worried looks, his disquiet at finding Kit in Cornwall rather than in Wiltshire. Perhaps, and this was to give him the benefit of the doubt, he’d never meant to betray Kit but just the villagers and Jago. Which, in its way, was worse. The man needed punishment to suit the crime.

Jago’s face darkened with anger. “We have him fast. I went by his inn at first light but the men’d been there before me. He weren’t a pretty sight to behold, I can tell ’ee.”

“Have they thrown him off the cliff?”

His uncle’s bushy eyebrows rose. “How did ’ee know that was what they wanted to do wi’ him?”

“Just a suspicion.” Could he avert Aleck’s fate now Morvoren had averted his own? But Aleck’s actions had led to the death of one of their men. Would the rest of them be ready to spare him? What other punishment than death was possible? If Aleck had done it because he needed the money, then the same could be said of all of them, and no one else had peached on them.

Jago shook his head. “I wouldn’t let ’em. They was all up in arms about Clemo. The soldiers’ve tooken his body so his widow’s not got him to bury. ’Twas hard to hold ’em back from draggin’ Tregothnan straight up to they cliffs, I can tell ’ee.” He shook his head. “But I did. I thought as you’d best deal wi’ him when you’re up agin. We’ve got him locked in the cellar here. Seemed as good a place as any. None o’ they soldiers’ll think o’ searchin’ for him here.”

“I’ll get up,” Kit said. “We’ll deal with him right now.”

Jago shook his head. “He’ll still be here tomorrow and the next day. Let him stew in his own shit for a while. Won’t do him no harm. He could do wi’ reflecting on what he done wrong and how he betrayed the men what drink in his inn and pays his wage.”

Kit sank back into his pillows. Perhaps that was a good idea. “Can you ask Morvoren to come to me? I’ve a question I need to put to her.”