The Artist's Healer - Regina Scott Page 0,60
over the water.
“Attention! If I may have your attention, good sirs and madams.”
Voices grew quiet. Ethan stared up at him. Abigail grinned at Linus and took his hand. The day felt finer.
“I have the pleasure of introducing you to my esteemed cousin, Lord Howland.” He handed the other man the speaking trumpet with a bow.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” his cousin, the new earl, called out, voice echoing across the water. “Allow me to welcome you to the thirtieth annual Grace-by-the-Sea Regatta.”
Cheers and applause echoed from both headlands, with yells of support from the vessels at sea.
“This year,” he went on when things had quieted a little, “we have a very fine showing of eighteen vessels from Dorset, Devonshire, Cornwall, and as far away as Kent.”
More cheers erupted.
“May the best captain, the fastest ship, win.”
He bowed and offered the speaking trumpet back to his cousin, then went to take his seat on the shaded grandstand beside a little girl, two older women, Eva, and Mrs. Tully.
“That girl is his daughter,” Abigail told Linus. “He’s a widower too.”
He felt for the fellow. Yet how much better was life now that Abigail was beside him?
The magistrate’s voice boomed out. “In the first fleet, we have the Hind of the Waves with Captain Meadows, the Merry Widow with Captain Grant, the Valiant with Captain Willison, the Importune with Captain Barkins, the Spirit of the Sea with Captain Norris, and the Siren’s Call, captained by our own Quillan St. Claire, who joins our Regatta for the first time, with first mate Mr. Alexander Chance, who is no stranger to our event.”
“Ooh, the captain.” Mrs. Archer craned her neck as if she could see the fellow from her perch. Abigail perked up as well. So, he realized, did every lady near him.
“Gentlemen,” the magistrate bellowed. “Prepare your sails.”
Canvas unfurled like low-hanging clouds. Bows headed away from the shore.
“On my mark,” Mr. Howland shouted. “Away!”
They swept across the waves. The wind before them, they each had to tack back and forth while avoiding the other. Linus caught himself holding his breath as they began the turn past the Lodge. Abigail leaned closer, until the scent of peaches overpowered even the salt of the air.
“Look,” Ethan cried, pointing. “Captain St. Claire is in the lead!”
He was indeed. The Siren’s Call with its mermaid on the bow and black sides cut through the waves, taking advantage of every ounce of sail. Abigail grinned at Linus. He grinned back.
“But look, the Hind!” someone called.
Another boat narrowed the distance, until the two sliced side by side. Linus wasn’t sure who finished first.
Jack Hornswag scrambled up from his perch above the Dragon’s Maw to speak to the magistrate, who nodded and raised his speaking trumpet.
“First place, the Hind of the Waves. Second place, the Siren’s Call.”
A groan went through the onlookers. It seemed to be coming mostly from the ladies.
“But that means he gets to try again,” Ethan said with a look to Abigail.
“Indeed it does,” she said, giving Linus’s hand a squeeze as if to reassure him as well. “Do not count our good captain out yet. I’m sure he has plans.”
“Here comes the second fleet,” her mother said.
Ethan looked, then frowned. “Why are there seven of them?”
The rest of the onlookers must have seen the other ship at the same time, along with the flag she flew so brazenly, for voices rose in fear.
“The French!”
“The enemy!”
“Invasion!”
“Run!”
Chapter Eighteen
All around them, people cried out, scrambled to their feet, shoved their way down the grandstand. Her mother fell over as one of the men above them clambered past. As Abigail bent to help her, she heard a cry from Ethan. Twisting, she found Linus staring at the spot where his son had been.
“He slipped through the opening between the seats!” He started to kneel.
Abigail caught his arm. “Don’t! You’ll be trampled.”
Her mother regained her feet even as another woman was dragged down the grandstand by those higher up. She lay on the ground at the bottom, face white and wrist hanging crookedly.
“Go to her,” Abigail told Linus. “We’ll find Ethan.”
He hesitated only a moment before loping down the seats.
“Are you all right?” Mr. Lawrence asked Abigail and her mother even as he directed his wife and children down the stand. “I can leave Davy to help.”
“Go,” Abigail told him. “There are others who need more help.”
“Ethan,” her mother worried as the jeweler followed his family.
Abigail felt it too; fear like a fist squeezed her heart.
“We’ll find him, Mother,” she promised. “Come with me.”
The crowd