and skirts around her legs, revealing tantalising glimpses of her slim ankles, her shapely calves. Her face was tanned. From the long hours she had spent in the Cornish sunshine this summer past, Treeve presumed, swimming here in the cove. He’d give a good deal to have watched her. Miss Emily Faulkner was one of the most attractive women he had ever met. Though it had never happened to him before, it would be no exaggeration to say that he was, in fact, well and truly smitten.
She was not in the first bloom of youth—thirty or so, would be his guess—for though she looked no more than five or six and twenty, her expression had none of the openness of a younger woman, and all the guardedness of one having lived long enough to have secrets to protect. Her hair was the colour of wet sand, dark blonde streaked with gold, and her eyes were the colour of a stormy ocean, grey-blue fringed with long dark lashes. Perhaps she was a sea nymph after all! Her nose was too strong to belong to an accredited beauty, her mouth too generous. Intelligence blazed in her eyes, something that many a man would find intimidating. He thought it merely added to her charm.
‘What brings a Highland lass all the way to Cornwall?’ he asked.
‘I am renting that cottage up there, the one on the furthest point of the headland, which I suppose makes you my landlord.’
‘Forgive me, I’m a rough sailor accustomed to speaking my mind, but frankly you neither look nor sound like a woman obliged to fend for herself.’
‘Necessity, as they say, is the mother of invention. I do very well for myself, thank you. And while I know next to nothing about the Royal Navy, I am pretty sure they expect their officers to be gentlemen, not rough sailors.’
‘Oh, I can play the gentleman if required, and the rough sailor too, if the situation demands it. Tell me, is the cottage in good order? If there is anything that can be done to improve it?’
She cast him a levelling look. ‘It suits me very well, and if there was anything needing done, I am sure Mr Bligh, your estate manager, would attend to it.’
‘I was merely thinking of your comfort.’
‘Thank you, but it’s more about how it would look. I’ve already stolen a march on all of Porth Karrek in meeting you this morning. Imagine the reaction if one of your first acts of generosity was towards an outsider like me.’
‘You’re right, it was naïve of me.’
Emily shook her head, smiling faintly. ‘A lovely gesture nonetheless.’
The wind ruffled her hair, dragging thick tendrils free of her ribbon and whipping it around her face. He had been apprehensive about returning to his birthplace, even temporarily, but the prospect of spending the next few weeks in Cornwall suddenly seemed a lot more appealing. A lot more, Treeve thought, as she stooped to pick up an empty crab shell, and the wind tugged at her skirts, outlining her very shapely bottom.
‘We used to boil these up in buckets of salt water on the beach,’ Emily said, happily oblivious. ‘The claw meat in particular is so sweet. The fishermen throw them back into the water in Lewis though, no one wants to buy them.’
‘It’s the same here. I must admit, I’ve never tasted crabmeat.’
‘Oh, you should.’ She cast the shell into the waves. ‘There’s nothing like it.’
‘You have not the accent of a Highland woman,’ he said, as they continued on.
‘That’s because I’m not really a Highland lass. I was born on Lewis, as was my mother, but my father was a Londoner and that’s where we made our home. We visited my grandparents every summer, Mama and I, and when she died—I was only fifteen—I became even closer to them. I lost them both ten years ago.’
‘That must have been difficult for you.’
‘They were elderly—my mother was a late child—and they died as they’d have wished, in their own beds, only a few months apart.’ Her voice wavered. ‘I’ve never been back. Far too many ghosts.’ She paused for a moment, her throat working, then gave a tiny shake of her head, as if to clear it of unpleasant thoughts.
Her words struck a chord. ‘When they served dinner last night, I almost told the housekeeper we’d better wait for Austol. I feel like I’m trespassing. If I could have stayed away—ah, but then I’d never have met you, and that would have been a great pity.’
She glanced at him, coloured faintly, then looked away. ‘I was fortunate to be spared the difficult task you face. My grandparents’ estate was inherited by a rather distant cousin from my grandfather’s side—though in actual fact I think he is now my nearest relative, since my father died. Mama was an only child, you see, as am I. It is the way of things up there, for lands to be passed down the male line. Besides, John-Angus had long acted as my grandfather’s estate manager—as Mr Bligh does for you. And I know nothing about farming.’
‘I pictured you holidaying in a small, whitewashed Highland croft,’ Treeve said. ‘I take it I was mistaken?’
‘There were certainly a number of crofts on the lands. It was—is—a substantial estate. John-Angus will keep them it in good heart. And he has three sons. A good strong line to continue,’ she said wistfully. ‘My grandmother was an only child too. I think—I know, for Grandmama told me—that my grandfather brought John-Angus in as a sort of insurance policy. And he was wise to do so.’
‘I understand that is how things are done, but it seems very arbitrary, to take no account of the possibility of your having a son. Ah, forgive me,’ Treeve said, aghast at his own thoughtlessness, seeing Emily’s stricken face. ‘I meant only that you were so young when they died—not that I mean to imply that you are too old now, but I—’ He broke off, cursing. ‘I’m so very sorry. As I said, I’m a rough sailor, but I should not have spoken out of turn.’
She shook her head, turning away from him, though not before he saw a sheen of tears in her eyes. ‘I will never have a son,’ she said flatly.
Was she set on spinsterhood? Or had she been badly hurt? Both questions were intriguing and impossible to ask. ‘I apologise unreservedly,’ Treeve said, ‘for commenting on such a very personal matter, especially since we’ve just met. You don’t know me well—or at all,’ he added, with an embarrassed laugh. ‘I’m not usually so forthright. It’s partly the awkward position I find myself in, I expect—a position I never sought. I know I’m an outsider here in Porth Karrek, an unknown quantity at best. I’m in uncharted waters, and that’s not something that sits well with me, after all these years in the navy, knowing precisely where my duty lay. I’m rambling on now, which is something else I never do. But it’s not only the situation, it’s you. I must confess I am very drawn to you, I feel there is an affinity between us. Have I got it completely wrong? If I have, tell me to go to the devil, I beg you.’
Emily frowned down at the sands, digging her toes in. He waited on tenterhooks for some long, painful moments. Seven waves’ worth of waiting. Finally, she looked up, meeting his eyes, smiling faintly. ‘I don’t intend to tell you to go to the devil.’
‘Thank you.’ He followed her lead, walking on, forcing himself to remain silent for fear of saying anything that would make her reconsider. Who was she, this obviously beloved granddaughter and only grandchild, who had inherited nothing? She did not have the look of a woman who had spent the last ten years living in poverty. Her well-made clothes had the kind of quiet elegance that spoke of excellent cloth, and though they were not in the first style of fashion, nor were they dated. Her
