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‘I’m trying to think, but my mind is in a fog. I don’t want to be widowed for a second time.’
Nancy reached out to lay a sympathetic hand on Patricia’s arm. ‘We have to hope for the best.’
‘We need to get Aurelia and Lady Pentelow to safety, but there must be someone who can tell us more.’
‘No one in the village knows me. I could go to the inn we saw when we first arrived. I might be able to find someone who can give me more information.’
‘Would you really do that, Nancy? I’d come with you, but that might look suspicious.’
‘I’m not afraid to go on my own. Everyone blames the family because Piers still owns the mine, even if he wasn’t responsible for its failure. The loss of the Corinthian is only going to make matters worse.’
‘You’re right, Nancy. If you go down to the village I’ll take care of things here, but be careful. An angry mob isn’t going to make exceptions. If they know you have come from Trevenor you will be in danger, too.’
‘I’ll be discreet. It’s important that we get as much information as possible. Send Aurelia and Lady Pentelow to safety, if necessary. You and I can follow later. It’s a bit like the old times, Patsy.’
Patricia answered with a sad smile, ‘Not quite. My heart wasn’t breaking then, Nancy.’
With Ada’s borrowed shawl wrapped around her head and shoulders, Nancy braved the bitter wind and sleet to walk to the village pub. The high street was all but deserted, although there had been a hive of activity at the mine when she hurried past. The Anchor Inn was busy, but no one took any notice of a poor girl making her way through the crowd of drinkers. She wanted to avoid the bar as being too public, but she spotted a young potman collecting empty tankards and she stepped inside.
‘I heard that the Corinthian went down with all hands,’ Nancy said in a low voice. ‘My pa was one of the crew. Do you know who brought the news?’
The young man barely looked at her. ‘He come off the ship moored in the bay.’ He jerked his head in the direction of a man seated in the inglenook, surrounded by eager listeners. ‘He done nothing but spout off for the price of a pint of ale.’
‘Thank you.’ Nancy glanced round nervously. She was the only female in the bar and she knew that the landlord would turn her out the instant she was spotted. There were so many people milling around, all eager to hear the details of the wreck, that she decided to wait outside in the hope of catching the seaman when he staggered out of the pub. It was even colder now that sleet had turned to spiteful hailstones, and she sheltered in the doorway, moving aside as men pushed past her. Some of them eyed her speculatively and one or two made lewd suggestions, but she ignored them.
Shielding her eyes with her hand, Nancy spotted a longboat being rowed ashore. When it drew nearer she could see a man seated in the stern, who appeared to be the ship’s captain. If anyone could give her a true account of what happened it must be he. She tightened her clasp on the flimsy shawl and ran down to the jetty to wait for the boat to pull alongside. When the man climbed ashore she moved closer.
‘Please, Captain, might I have a word with you?’
His bushy eyebrows drew together in a frown. ‘Who are you, girl?’
‘I won’t keep you a minute, sir. I have relations who were on board the Corinthian. We’ve been told that she went down with all hands. Is that true?’
He glared at her for a moment and then his expression softened. ‘She went down off the Azores, but there were survivors, despite what people have been saying. They managed to get ashore at Graciosa, and we picked them up in Porto where they had been taken by a whaling vessel.’
‘Are they on board now, Captain?’
He jerked his head in the direction of the longboat. ‘These are the men. Do you recognise any of them?’
Nancy leaned over the side of the jetty, but despite the rain and sleet blowing in her face she knew the answer already. ‘No, sir.’
‘Well, speak to them, miss. Maybe they can give you more information.’ The captain strode off in the direction of the Anchor Inn, leaving Nancy to wait until the men had disembarked. She stopped the first of them to step ashore.
‘Excuse me. Do you remember if Mr Alexander Blanchard or Mr Leo Wilder were on board the Corinthian?’
The man shook his head. ‘No, miss. I never saw they folk. Never heard of them neither.’ He strode off without looking back.
Nancy questioned each man as they passed her, but the answer was the same, and she made her way back to the house relieved, but she wished she had better news to give Patricia. As she hurried past the entrance to the mine offices the sound of raised voices made her quicken her pace. She caught glimpses of the men gesticulating wildly and she knew that trouble was coming. She broke into a run.
Corbin, Lady Pentelow’s coachman, was seated on the box of the barouche while the stable boy held the horses’ reins. The luggage was piled into a dog cart with Ada perched next to the groom on the driver’s seat. Patterson helped Lady Pentelow into the barouche, followed by Aurelia. Patricia was standing in the doorway. Her expression lightened when she saw Nancy.
‘You’ve been gone for ages. I was about to send them off without us.’
‘They weren’t on board,’ Nancy said breathlessly. ‘I spoke to several of the survivors as they landed on the quay. There were no passengers on the Corinthian, only the crew.’
‘We’ll have to go now.’ Patricia turned to the butler. ‘Are you sure you wish to remain here, Patterson? We could take you, Cook and Mrs Witham to somewhere safer.’
‘Trevenor is our home, ma’am. We will stay and do our best to keep the house in order until Lady Pentelow returns. I will hide what’s left of the silver and porcelain in the cellar.’
