scorned, Laura thought. She was certainly grateful for the brave young woman’s assistance, but she hoped LaRoche would not take revenge for her sharp tongue.
The Frenchman said, “If anyone is a thief, it is Captain Carnell, the man who calls himself Alexander Lucas. He stole my papers. Probably stole your money as well.”
One of the officers asked Miss Roskilly, “Have you seen this Captain Carnell?”
The young woman shrugged. “I have seen him once or twice during his stay, but not recently. Nor do I know where he might be bound. Perhaps Padstow? I honestly don’t know his plans. I doubt any of us do.”
She looked at the trio, who all dutifully shook their heads.
“Look around you,” the young woman added. “There are not many places to hide out here, except perhaps the sexton’s shed. Busy Padstow would be a far better place to conceal oneself.”
Laura almost wished she would not keep mentioning Padstow. For if Laura was successful in finding a ship to take Alex away, it would most likely be harboured there.
“We had better be heading back,” Miss Roskilly said. She took Laura’s arm companionably and started the walk back to Fern Haven. Perry and Eseld followed.
The officers made no protest as they left. Laura looked back and saw that one man kept a gun trained on LaRoche while the other searched the shed.
Laura wasn’t sure the officers believed their protestations of ignorance, but she knew for certain François LaRoche had not.
When they reached Fern Haven, Eseld and Perry continued into the parlour, but Laura talked quietly to Miss Roskilly in the passage.
“Thank you. I don’t know why you helped us, but thank you.”
“Do you not?” Her dark eyes glinted. “That is easy. I have always had a soft spot for true love. Just look at how I maneuvered Perry and Eseld into each other’s arms.”
They both glanced through the open parlour door, where the couple stood near the hearth, faces shining by firelight as they gazed at each other.
Kayna said, “You know she initially admired Treeve, while he clearly admired you. I was able to show her the error of her ways and the futility of pining for him. Now that you have made your interest in another so plain, hopefully Treeve can be swayed in time as well.”
“I don’t want Treeve,” Laura insisted. “I never have.”
“I know you don’t. Why do you think he wants to win you over? Men are so proud. Can’t stand it when a woman doesn’t think they’re God’s gift. That was the mistake I made—letting Treeve know I admired him. So he has given up the chase, unless it is the chase for my dowry.” She sighed.
“And Monsieur LaRoche?”
A frown flickered over her pretty face. “I admit I briefly admired him—the mysterious Frenchman under my own roof. Surely you can understand that. He can be charming when he wishes to be, when he wants something. But refuse him, and you see the real man. The selfish, scheming, dangerous man.”
“You were very brave tonight, the way you spoke to him.”
She shrugged. “He was being escorted by armed militia. I had nothing to fear at the time.”
“And now?”
“And now . . . let us hope the officers take my advice and keep him under lock and key.” A tremor passed over the slight woman.
Laura pressed her hand. “How can I help?”
Miss Roskilly held her gaze with intense, glittering eyes. “You can help by taking your French captain and leaving this place. François will continue to pursue him, and hopefully, we will have seen the last of him here.”
“You think I should leave with a man I barely know? Leave my uncle and just . . . run off with him in secret?”
The woman shrugged. “Come. I saw him kiss you on the roof. Besides, you have made no secret of wishing to be anywhere but here since you arrived. Why do you think you were never fully accepted? Well, now you have your chance.”
Was it true? Had her own disdain of the place and its people been the real reason she’d never belonged? Laura swallowed a hard lump, then said, “No one is going anywhere until we find a ship to take Alexander across the Channel.”
“Then you need look no further than Treeve Kent.”
“Treeve?”
Kayna nodded. “I had been curious about his clandestine nighttime activities, so I had our manservant follow him. I feared he might have a lover in Padstow. He does in a sense. Her name is the Merry Mary.”
Laura blinked in surprise.
“If