Invitation To A Cornish Christmas. Marguerite Kaye

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      Their hands brushed as they walked, and each time it happened, Emily felt her fingers tingle, as if they were asking to be clasped, she thought fancifully to herself. Though Treeve’s words had startled her, in a way they’d been a relief, for she’d felt it too, the instant attraction between them. They did not know one another at all, but she felt that they should, as if they were meant to.

      It was decidedly not at all like her to be so fanciful. She had been on her own too long, not only here in Cornwall but before. For months before she had finally confronted Andrew, she had been lonely, a self-imposed isolation, unable to confide her doubts and fears to anyone. Not that there had been anyone, for Jessie, who had known her since she was a bairn, and had been Mama’s maid before she was ever Emily’s, had finally been persuaded to retire. As for Beth, she wouldn’t have dreamed of polluting her happiness, even if her oldest and closest friend had been close by, rather than in distant Yorkshire with her beloved curate.

      So the fates had been kind to her, to provide her with a confidante. Not that she would ever dream of confiding in him exactly, but to talk—yes. She liked the way he listened to her, not simply waiting until she’d finished so that he could have his say as Andrew was wont to, but really listening. And not just answering but responding. And she liked the way he looked at her, the frankness in his eyes that told her he found her attractive. She knew that the frisson she felt—there, just like that!—as their hands brushed again, was not one-sided.

      Treeve had been quiet for some time now, for fear of upsetting her further, no doubt. The next time their hands brushed, Emily met his eyes and smiled. ‘What would have happened to the Karrek estates if your brother had been an only son?’ she asked.

      ‘My cousin is next in line, by default, I suppose,’ he answered, his relief at her breaking the silence obvious. ‘That’s another thing I must do, make my will. Austol’s will left everything to me in the absence of a son, though I reckon he’d have preferred to hand it over to Jago Bligh. A true Cornishman, and one who, like your John-Angus, knows the lands. His would be a safer pair of hands than mine.’

      ‘You don’t consider yourself a true Cornishman then,’ she quizzed. ‘Though you are from Porth Karrek, born and bred as they say.’

      ‘I doubt they do say that. In fact, I’m pretty sure that some would disagree most profoundly with you there. I was born here, that is true enough, but bred—no, the navy made me, not Porth Karrek. My one love,’ he added with a wry smile, ‘and my only mistress.’

      ‘But your brother, being a true Cornishman, no doubt thought your career choice somewhat disloyal?’

      Treeve rolled his eyes. ‘He certainly did, as do the entire population of Porth Karrek and beyond, I’ll wager. In Cornish eyes, there is not an iota of difference between a captain of the Royal Navy and an Exciseman. I’m only one step above being an informer.’

      ‘I’ve only been here a short while, but it’s long enough to know you’re not exaggerating. You must have been very keen to join up, in the face of such opposition. And indeed, very determined, for one so young, if you’ve been twenty years in the navy.’

      ‘I was sixteen, and the second son, so my father was largely indifferent to what I did. And before you pity me, let me reassure you that I consider myself fortunate, since it meant no obstacles were put in my way. In fact, if I’d not joined the navy of my own accord, it’s likely that my father would have tried to push me towards the church, and in doing so deprived the parish of an excellent man in the form of Reverend Maddern.’

      Emily raised her brows sceptically. ‘I can’t imagine that you would allow yourself to be pushed into anything by anyone.’

      ‘It’s been attempted, but none so far have succeeded.’

      ‘Though now,’ she ventured, ‘you must be torn?’

      ‘What do people here want to happen?’

      ‘You’ve not been away so long as to imagine that anyone in Porth Karrek would share their thoughts with an incomer, surely?’

      ‘No, I suppose not.’

      They had come to the end of the beach, where the cliffs of the next headland protruded out to sea, preventing them from continuing. The wavelets washed over their toes, drenching the hems of her cloak and skirt. Emily frowned. ‘There has been a good deal of speculation about you, I know that much.’

      ‘I couldn’t have come here any earlier—until last week I was at sea. I didn’t even hear of Austol’s death until a month after he was drowned. People will be wanting to know where they stand, and that’s natural enough.’ Treeve picked up a flat stone and skimmed it expertly into the surf. ‘As far as I’m concerned, provided I can satisfy myself that Jago Bligh has been doing his job, they stand exactly where they do now. My leave of absence expires at the end of the year. I have no plans to extend it, and certainly no intention of making it permanent. Don’t people get on with Bligh? Is that what you’re hinting at?’

      ‘I’m not hinting at anything. Mr Bligh, though not exactly loved by all, is certainly held in respect—and in some awe, since he wields quite a lot of power. But that’s only an impression. You must make up your own mind.’

      ‘Oh, I intend to, but it’s always useful to have an independent view from someone with no vested interest.’

      ‘Well, I can certainly provide that.’

      Treeve sighed, digging his toes into the sand, in precisely the same way as she did. ‘It’s a damned mess, all the same. Karrek House shouldn’t be left to lie empty. My brother’s widow has moved back to Penzance to stay with her parents. I called on her yesterday, on my way here. It is a great shame that their union wasn’t blessed with a son. She’s a Hammett of Penzance, whose father would have been happy to look after the estate on behalf of his grandson.’

      ‘And now it will fall to you, to marry and provide an heir.’ Emily spoke lightly, but avoided his eyes all the same, for fear that he’d see the pain her words induced. All men wanted a son, didn’t they!

      But Treeve looked quite aghast. ‘That is something I have not considered, nor intend to. I am at sea more often than I’m ashore. I would make a very poor husband and father.’

      ‘Loyalty, a strong sense of duty, honour, and respect for those you command—the attributes which make you an excellent naval captain would surely also serve you very well as a husband.’

      ‘Are you funning?’

      ‘Only a little.’

      ‘You don’t think that love is the starting point? Surely if one loves, then the rest follow—save that I don’t think a husband should command a wife.’

      ‘That is very enlightened of you.’

      ‘I know little of such matters, to be honest.’

      ‘Ah, yes, the sea is your mistress, as you said.’

      ‘Well, not precisely my only mistress, but the one I have always returned to.’ Treeve cursed under his breath. ‘That makes me sound СКАЧАТЬ