Invitation To A Cornish Christmas. Marguerite Kaye

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      Treeve put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to meet his gaze. ‘Don’t be so defensive. I didn’t ask you out here to interrogate you. Some polite conversation—you know, a little give and take.’

      She smiled reluctantly. ‘I’ve largely forgotten how to make conversation.’

      ‘Would you like to put some practice in?’

      ‘Yes, please.’ She liked the way he met her eyes, so straight on, the way he looked at her, not through her, the way he listened to what she said, even if by listening he saw through her enough to tell her a home truth or two.

      The wind had blown his hair across his face. Without thinking, she reached up to push it back. He caught her hand. She held her breath as desire flared unmistakably in his eyes, as her body responded, heat prickling her back, tingling deep inside her. He kissed her, but only by brushing his lips on her glove. When he let her go, she felt absurdly disappointed.

      ‘Look at this.’ Treeve made a sweeping gesture. ‘On days like this, I can see why my brother always said there was nowhere like it in the whole world. Perhaps Cornwall is in my blood after all.’

      He had turned them both to face towards Penzance. The tide was out, so the long crescent of beach which stretched almost all the way to Porth Karrek was revealed, and the cobbled causeway leading out to St Michael’s Mount, the tiny rocky island topped with a fortress, was clearly visible. ‘I always think it is some sort of strange ship, moored to the mainland by a stone rope,’ Emily said.

      ‘There’s another similar island just off the coast of Brittany you know, called Mont St Michel. They were both priories, up until about four hundred years ago or so. Shall we press on?’

      They headed off along the path, just wide enough for them to walk two abreast as it hugged the clifftops, giving breathtaking views out to sea. Treeve pointed out a number of lethal-looking rocks similar to The Beasts, visible only because the tide was low. Little London, The Frenchman, The Bears, each had their own special name, and if they had any particular meaning, according to Treeve, it was long forgotten. What each was remembered for were the wrecks they had been responsible for, so many of them that Emily wondered why any fisherman would risk their life in these waters.

      ‘It’s true,’ Treeve answered her, ‘the Cornish coast is the most treacherous in all of England, the sea can turn from flat calm to a storm in the blink of an eye, but our fishermen must fish, or they will starve. They need to follow the shoals of pilchards wherever they go, regardless of the danger.’

      ‘Did you ever sail here?’

      ‘Of course I did. My father taught Austol and I to sail in the harbour when we were very young—he wouldn’t allow us to venture out of Porth Karrek until he was happy we knew what we were doing, because of The Beasts. My father was an excellent sailor.’

      ‘So it runs in the blood, your own affinity with ships and the sea?’

      ‘It does, though my father, like my brother, had no interest in any sea beyond this one.’

      ‘While you wanted to sail them all?’

      ‘Something like that.’ He frowned. ‘It wasn’t only a case of wanting to see the wider world though, I didn’t relish the prospect of being constrained by the boundaries of their world.’

      ‘And be obliged to become a vicar, to boot.’

      He rolled his eyes. ‘Heaven forfend. Truly.’

      ‘You wanted to be your own man,’ Emily said. ‘I can understand that. I have worked very hard to become my own woman.’

      ‘Yes, it’s something we share, our refusal to be hidebound. Though it comes at a price. I am master of my own ship, but I still have to obey orders. What’s more, the navy has a book of rules and regulations as thick as—I was going to say Jago Bligh’s skull, but that would be unfair. He’s not the least bit stupid, merely stubbornly attached to the old ways, like most of the village. You’ve experienced that, Emily. You had to swear Bligh’s niece and nephew to silence about their swimming lessons, for heaven’s sake.’

      She wrinkled her nose. ‘It’s true, they don’t like change, and they are wary of strangers. In that sense, Porth Karrek is very like Lewis.’

      ‘And the scenery too, from what you’ve said.’

      ‘Oh, yes. I came here because it was as far south from London as I could get, but I have stayed because it is quite simply beautiful. On days like this, who would want to be anywhere else? I love the sea, as much as you do.’

      They stopped to admire the view back to Mount’s Bay from Cudden Point. The causeway had disappeared under the incoming tide. A sudden gust of wind tugged a strand of Emily’s hair free from its ribbon. The sea below was a deep blue, turning to turquoise in the shallower water back at Perranuthnoe where it met the sands, and further out, where the swell was rising, the water was almost midnight blue.

      ‘But you have been lonely here.’ Treeve turned to her.

      ‘I have, but that’s partly because I’ve chosen to be. I wasn’t ready for company until you came along. Next April, I’ll have been here a year. I have high hopes that by then, Eliza Menhenick will offer me a loaf of bread without asking me which size I want. Maybe next summer, Kensa and Jack will persuade the Nancarrow boys to join them to swim. In ten years’ time, if I ask for a glass of cognac at the Ship, they might even serve it to me. You see,’ Emily said awkwardly, for the revelation had only just occurred to her, ‘unlike you, I’d like to make my home here. I don’t have any family now, and I can’t go back to Lewis, but this place is alike enough to remind me. I won’t be a stranger for ever.’

      ‘Shall I build a swimming pool in the rocks, so that you can give your lessons safely?’

      ‘I know you’re teasing, but I can’t help but feel that the children here are missing out on so much, not enjoying the sea.’

      ‘To say nothing of the fact that it’s depriving some of them of the ability to save their own life.’

      ‘Oh, Treeve, I’m so sorry. That was completely thoughtless of me.’

      ‘No, but you’re right. If Austol had learned to swim, there’s a chance he may not have perished. I’ve resolved to learn, thanks to you, and see if I can persuade some of my men to do so. Perhaps one day we can swim together at Karrek Sands.’

      ‘So you do intend to return?’

      ‘Occasionally, my naval duties permitting. I’ll have to. It’s horribly clear to me that there are a good many things I can’t delegate.’

      ‘You know, it sounds to me as if being the lord of the manor and being a naval captain are more similar than you think. Both require a steady hand on the tiller, a man who is not afraid to make tough decisions, who can inspire loyalty and command respect.’

      ‘What is demanded in Porth Karrek, is that the lord of the manor acts in the exact same way as his predecessors did. Austol essentially became my father, when he inherited. Acting the lord of the manor, is precisely what I’d have to do. I refuse to meekly follow in my father’s and brother’s footsteps.’

      Emily dared to take his hand, pressing her lips to his knuckles. СКАЧАТЬ