She was nowhere to be seen, though, so he let out a sigh as he rolled up his sleeves.
11
CAROLINE
Eliza did not require a friend to accompany her to the party on Trelowen’s beach. She was a capable woman and knew the villagers better than Caroline did.
It was a flimsy excuse, and Caroline hoped Mr. Yorke would not see through it.
“The entire village must be present,” Eliza said as they turned the bend that brought the quay and the beach into view.
Caroline was inclined to agree. Trelowen’s beach was never large, even at low tide, but it was chock-full of people now, while fiddling and clapping filled the air. It was a far cry from the well-attended but more staid gathering at Trevenna earlier. Oswald might think it vulgar, but Caroline could not stop a smile as she watched two men throw their young children high into the air, then catch them, while a group of men rope wrestled behind.
Her gaze snagged on Mr. Yorke, who was at the front of one side of the rope.
Her heart tripped.
He had discarded his coat, the buttons of his shirt undone at the throat, and the sleeves rolled to his elbows. His stockinged feet slid in the sand as he dug his heels in, a look of intense concentration on his face while he and the men behind him heaved, tugging and being tugged by the men opposite them.
With one enormous pull, they yanked the men on the other side across the line.
Cheers went up from the crowd watching, most with a drink or a fairing in hand.
Mr. Yorke grinned and slung his arm around the shoulders of one of the fishermen, who said something, eliciting a laugh and a friendly elbow jab from Mr. Yorke.
Caroline’s chest pulled strangely at the interaction, even as her mouth drew up at one corner.
Mr. Yorke had always seemed to be performing to her—molding impressions and perceptions to his benefit. Seeing such a moment of genuine enjoyment—and with one of the fishermen, no less—left her feeling uncertain in a new and unsettling way.
It was only then that she realized Eliza was watching her from a few feet ahead, a curious, almost amused expression on her face.
Caroline did not remember stopping, but there she stood in the middle of the cobbled lane that led down to the beach.
“They are certainly enjoying themselves,” Caroline said, resuming their walk.
“I hope you will do so too.”
“Only ifyoudo.”
Eliza had experienced her fair share of adversity in life—joining her husband on uncomfortable ships in unsteady waters, then losing him in battle, which had left her and the one child that had survived infancy in severely reducedcircumstances. She deserved laughter and enjoyment for a few hours as much as anyone Caroline could think of.
If Caroline could only manage to get the schoolhouse built, Eliza and the village would both benefit—she with an increase in income, they with education that would serve them in ways they could not even imagine. They could take positions as clerks or overseers rather than risking their lives in the deep mazes of the mines or facing the unpredictable tides and catches at sea.
When they reached the short, mossy steps that led down to the sand, Eliza lifted her skirts and hesitated.
Mr. Yorke jogged over, then lifted a hand to assist her. “Allow me.”
Eliza smiled gratefully and took it, taking careful steps to avoid the places most likely to end in a slip or fall. “I might have known you would be the one to assist us.”
“You might indeed,” he said, his voice friendly, “for I have been waiting for you.” His gaze flitted to Caroline.
When Eliza was safely on the sand, he turned and offered his help to Caroline.
Their eyes met, and she could have sworn there was amusement in them, as if they were sayingI knew you would come.
“I came to accompany Mrs. Penrose.” She accepted his hand.
Mr. Yorke smiled. “Of course.” There was no mistaking the twinkle in his eyes. He knew she was indulging a curiosity she had found herself no match for.
