James picked up the picnic basket and pointed to a small patch of dry sand a little way along the beach. It would make the ideal place for them to sit and eat.
“Did you want to eat first and then explore the caves? That looks a good spot,” said James.
“Yes, that way we can leave the basket at the mouth of the sea cave and not have to carry it with us. The rocks can be slippery, and you will need to steady yourself,” she replied.
To her delight, James held out his hand. She hesitated for a moment but took it. The warm feeling as she slipped her fingers into his gentle grasp had her turning her head away.
She had missed his touch over the past few days. The brush of his hand on hers as he passed her bread when they sat and ate supper in their lodgings. His steady, protective hold whenever they rounded a bend in the road, and she shifted in her seat.
And those special moments whenever she tried to climb into the carriage. James standing behind her with his hands placed about her waist to lift her up into the driver’s seat. A moment which was always followed by him having to put his hands firmly on her backside and push, all the while both of them giggled like small children. James would then climb up beside her and grace her with that silly lopsided smile of his.
That was the best moment of them all.
Chapter Thirty-Four
He had missed her. Missed the simple pleasure of being alone with Leah. The instant she suggested the walk to the sea cave, James had silently scolded himself for having spent much of the past days in the painting studio. After having been together on the journey from London, he had wanted to give Leah some space. But in his eagerness to set brush to canvas, he worried now that she may have felt neglected.
There was an unmistakable note of longing in her voice that only a fool would have failed to hear. He could only hope he was not a fool in love.
They took up a spot on the dry sandy beach away from the rocks. Leah smoothed her skirts, then she dropped down beside him. James’s spirits lifted. There was a whole beach on which she could choose a place to sit, but Leah had decided to sit within touching distance of him.
Not that he expected her to be touching him. But still, a man never knew when his luck might change. From the stories he had heard of courtship and love within the Radley family, he knew Cupid was good at rewarding those who took a chance at helping love spark and grow. He shifted a few inches closer to her.
He looked inside the picnic basket, smiling when he saw its contents. There were freshly baked scones wrapped up in a clean cloth, along with pots of fresh Cornish cream and strawberry jam. When he unwrapped the still warm scones, a heady aroma filled his senses with delight. He couldn’t remember the last time he had tasted scones.
He broke one of them open and, taking a spoon from the basket, scooped up some of the clotted cream. He was about to put it on the scone when Leah gasped and took hold of his wrist.
“James Radley, don’t you dare! This is Cornwall; jam goes on first, then the cream. Don’t you be bringing any of those odd Devonshire habits into this county. My grandfather will have you drummed out of the village,” she said.
She took a knife from the basket and quickly added strawberry jam to the scone. When she was done, she nodded to James and he contritely placed a dollop of cream on top before handing half to her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize the depth of my crime,” he said.
Leah gave atsk. She grinned at him before biting into the soft dough.
Taking that as his having been forgiven, James set to work on eating his piece.
“Hmm, these are the best. You can have all the scones you like in London, but nothing is like having them baked here in Cornwall and being able have a large dollop of fresh clotted cream heaped on top.” Leah turned and looked at him. “You have some jam on your face.”
James put a finger up to his cheek, searching for the errant spread but failing.
With a soft smile, Leah reached out and wiped at a spot on the corner of his mouth with her finger. “There, that got it,” she said.
James swallowed deep as he watched Leah lick the jam from her finger. If she had any idea of the effect it had on him, she hid it well. If in fact she had the slightest notion of what being near her at any time did to James and his heated blood, she was keeping it to herself.
He was constantly looking for the signs that she might be harboring feelings for him. He had put the kiss Leah had given him before he’d set off to find Sir Geoffrey down to nerves.
He turned his attention back to the picnic hamper. A bottle of Sir Geoffrey’s home-made ginger ale sat invitingly at the bottom of the basket, along with two small cups. After pulling the cork from the bottle, he poured them both a drink and handed one to Leah.
She raised her cup in salute to him, then downed the contents with one long gulp. “Thank you. Grandfather’s ginger ale has always been the perfect drink for washing down scones and cream.”
They sat for a time, eating, and drinking to their hearts’ content. After three scones and an accompanying number of cups of ginger ale, James felt the need to lie down on the sand and have a snort nap.
Leah pulled out two small apples and handed one to James.
He sat and looked at it, uncertain as to whether he had any room left in his stomach. “Remember the huge supper of roast pig from our second night on the road? I am beginning to feel that full again,” he said, patting his belly.
Leah laughed. “Yes, that roast pig was marvelous. But these are Cornish breadfruit apples; they are so sweet you will not be able to resist them. Even just a bite will have you finding room alongside the scones and ale,” she said.
