Page 57 of The Cornish Inheritance

What to do? Bridget must have administered a very large dose last night. Caroline needed something to combat it. No use trying to make him sick as after nine or ten hours it must be securely in his system.

“What’s the matter with young Yves?” Mrs. Teague asked, coming over to the table. “He don’t usually want to sleep at this time o’ the morning.”

The urge to take the burly cook into her confidence rose. But Caroline couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t tell someone else who might report back to Mrs. Treloar. If this happened, Caroline would be dismissed just as Miss Hawkins had been, and Yves would be at the mercy of his aunt and Trefusis again. Probably Mrs. Teague would be dismissed as well. “He’s just a bit sleepy after a bad night,” Caroline said, instead. “Do you have any coffee prepared?”

“Coffee?”

“For Yves.”

Mrs. Teague’s face registered her shock. “For a child? I never heard of such a thing. That’s a drink for grown men and women, not little lads like him.”

Caroline pursed her lips. “Coffee is a stimulant, as you probably know. Yves needs stimulating to help him wake up.” Oh, if only this would work.

Mrs. Teague looked unconvinced. “If you’re sure?”

“I am. Look at him. He’s going back to sleep again in the middle of the morning. He needs to wake up properly.”

With a huff of disagreement, Mrs. Teague returned to the stove where she did indeed have a pot of coffee keeping warm. She took down what had to be the smallest cup she could find and filled it only half full. This she returned to Caroline. It did not look an appetizing drink for a small boy, and it was too hot for him to swallow. What to do? Inspiration came to her. “Milk. Do you have some creamy milk? That will make it taste better and cool it down. Quickly now.”

Yves’s eyes had closed and he looked as though he’d fallen asleep again.

Mrs. Teague took a cloth off a jug and topped the coffee up with the milk. Caroline added two large spoonsful of sugar and gave it a stir, then roused Yves who had relapsed into minimal responsiveness. “Here. Drink this.”

He obeyed her, if with a wrinkled nose, and swallowed down the coffee.

Caroline held out the empty cup. “I think a second cup. The sugar will do him good as well.”

When Yves had drunk three cups of milky coffee and sugar, he finally began to wake up, and Mrs. Teague served both him and Caroline with bacon and eggs. Once he’d eaten that, he seemed almost back to normal.

What a relief.

Then it was back up to the schoolroom to his lessons, despite his wheedling suggestion that as he needed fresh air, they should go to the beach and have a philosophical science lesson instead.

In the front hall, though, distraction awaited them. They encountered Nat, carrying his riding whip and with a determined expression on his face.

Yves ran over to him. “Where are you going?”

Nat favored him with a raised eyebrow. “Does your governess not insist on you learning how to greet someone you haven’t seen since yesterday a little less abruptly?”

Yves grinned. “Good morning, Cousin Nat. Where are you going?”

Nat met Caroline’s eyes, a distinctly more friendly expression on his face and the left side even suggesting he might be hiding a smile.

Caroline returned a tentative smile of her own, still worrying about how she was going to prevent Bridget from dosing Yves with the medicine again that night. “Good morning, Nat.”

Yves danced up and down. “Are you going out riding? Can I come?”

Nat tapped his riding whip against his leg. “I am indeed going riding, but I also happen to be well aware that your mornings are for learning, not gallivanting with me to far-flung mines.” Despite the stern words, he had a twinkle in his eyes that was both unusual and most attractive. Could she dare to hope he’d lain awake last night like she had, thinking of her?

“They most certainly are,” Caroline said, perhaps with a touch too much asperity. “But perhaps if you are especially good, Yves, we might prevail upon your cousin to let us accompany him this afternoon?”

Yves danced up and down some more. “Oh, please! I love riding even if it has to be on Blossom.” A thought seemed to occur to him, bringing a furrow to his smooth forehead. “And if I ride out a lot, and get better at it, perhaps Cousin Nat might persuade Aunt Ruth to let me have a bigger pony?”

Nat snorted. “If she refuses, then I’m sure you and I can ask Grandfather if he will approve it. He is, after all, your guardian and not your Aunt Ruth. So, he should have the final authority on this. And I’ll help you choose it. The mount for a prospective baronet needs careful selection.”

Good heavens. He must be feeling in a better mood this morning. Caroline couldn’t help but smile a little more, mainly because Nat’s words seemed to bolster her theory that he could not be involved in the attempts to poison Yves. However, that final thought had the frown returning. “Thank you, Nat. We will hold you to that. But for now, Yves needs to come with me. I wish you a pleasant ride this morning.”

“Where’re you going?” Yves asked, his chin on his shoulder as she took a firm hold on his hand and pulled him away.

Nat waved a hand in the vague direction of Penmar Head. “To our other mine, Wheal True. I’ve a mind to see and hear for myself the conditions the miners are living in, so I’ll be a while. I might be going down in the cage.” He glanced at Caroline. “It’s beyond Wheal Jenny and is the larger of our two mines.”

“I wish I was going too,” Yves managed as Caroline started up the staircase with him. “I want to go down in the cage like Nat. Much more fun than learning Latin verbs.” He must have forgotten already the plight of the child miners he’d seen.

A snort of what could have been laughter sounded from the hallway, followed by the clunk of the front door closing. Nat had gone.