Blushing, she thanked him and placed it in the basket. It set the tone for a light-hearted half hour—that turned into an hour—with just an edge of awareness that added excitement to her pleasure in his company. They walked to Dovercourt Bay and since it was quiet, he spread his coat on the sand for her to sit. Then he lowered himself beside her and began to take off his shoes.
Her breath caught. Childhood memories of running in the sand, with her parents, with friends who had drifted away... Barefoot, he rose, holding down his hand to her.
“Turn your back,” she said primly, so that she could hastily remove her stockings as well as her shoes. Only then did she take his hand, and he pulled her up and straight into a run. She gasped, laughing, as they ran hand-in-hand down to the sea. She swept her skirts up in one hand to splash in the rippling waves, and then they ran back to the abandoned basket and collapsed laughing onto his coat.
Happiness hit her like a blinding light. And it was all centred on him. And yet he turned his back again, the perfect gentleman, as she replaced her stockings and shoes. Apart from holding her hand in that mad run, as though they were children at play, he did not touch her. And though she was conscious of an improper urge for him to do so, the fact that he didn’t added to her trust and her respect for him.
There was only one serious moment as they walked sedately back into Harwich.
“Don’t expect too much of him, just at first,” Durward warned. Although they hadn’t been talking of her father, she knew exactly who he meant. “He may stumble a little. But it’s important you don’t give in. Keep to your own promises to yourself and to him.”
“He wants to take me sailing tomorrow.”
He smiled. “Good. I might tag along.”
Chapter Six
Durward did indeed tag along, and it was another glorious day.
Carina glimpsed Papa as he had used to be, working the sails of theQueen Marie, showing her how, and explaining again with patience as he gave the ropes to Durward. It was a small, strong, manoeuvrable craft, fitted with oars as well as sails, ideal for guiding large vessels into berth. Papa had enjoyed learning the skills for fun, before shipowners had stopped employing him for voyages and theMariehad become his only means of earning a living.
The sea breeze blew the viscount’s hair over his face, making him more boyish in appearance as he took instruction. Inevitably, formalities dropped. By the end of the afternoon, both men were calling her Carina and addressing each other as Jasper and Durward.
“Don’t you have a Christian name?” Carina asked the latter curiously as they ate sandwiches on the way back into the harbour.
Durward wrinkled his nose. “Yes, of course, but I never use it.”
“Why not? Because you’re too much on your dignity?” Papa mocked.
“No, because it’s Marmaduke.”
Papa chortled. “Fair enough. Then your whole family and all your friends call you by your title?”
“Pretty much. At school, I was Travis—my family name. Some people still call me that.” For an instant, his lips tightened, perhaps because of someone who did. Or had used to. “Although I share that name with my little brother who is dining out on the fact and using it as an excuse to behave twice as badly as I ever did.”
“Is that even possible?” Papa teased.
“Apparently so.”
“Won’t he miss you when you go abroad?” Carina asked.
Durward gave a rather charming if crooked smile. “Do him the world of good, I should think.”
It lifted Carina’s heart even further to be able to walk home on her father’s arm, for once not trying to hide his state. And if Lord Durward, strolling on her other side, made her heart beat a little faster, well, that was a rather lovely secret to carry.
“Tell you what,” Durward said to Papa as they approached the Black Lion. “I want to exercise my horses at dawn tomorrow before it gets too warm for them, so I can pick you up, if you like, and drop you at the harbour on my way.”
“Would you?” Papa asked, clearly pleased. “Very civil of you, Travis.”
AT DAWN THE FOLLOWINGmorning, Carina watched from the parlour window as Papa, smart in his captain’s coat and hat, left by the front door and climbed into Durward’s waiting curricle. Then she smiled and danced an impromptu jig all the way to the kitchen and twice around the table.
Had life ever been this good? Not only had Papa stayed at home last night, a little restless perhaps but perfectly sober, he had risen this morning without her reminder, already dressed by the time she scratched at his door.
She only prayed he would find work...
She busied herself with household tasks for a couple of hours, adding a little more water to the vase in the parlour that held Durward’s posy. Then, realizing her father would be home by now if he hadn’t got work—unless he had gone straight to the alehouse in his disappointment—she took off her apron and walked up to the market for some fresh fish.
She was walking home again when a familiar curricle rattled past her, pulled by two elegant grey horses. It pulled up by the side of the road and Durward tipped his hat, smiling.
