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“That makes sense. And makes Dwynwen’s story all the sadder if you think about it like that.”
“Her only crime was falling in love with the wrong man. I doubt she was the first to do such a thing, and she certainly wasn’t the last.”
Amen to that.
“Do you hear that? It’s the sound of millions of women across the world agreeing with you.”
He laughed, stretching one of his legs out. “And declaring a man was right? That right there is proof of a greater power.”
I couldn’t help it. I dropped my head back and laughed, even as wind whipped my hair around my face.
It was cold despite the sun, but there was something warm inside me that meant the chill never quite reached my core.
It intensified when Matthew met my gaze for the most fleeting of moments, and my heart thumped a little harder when he smiled.
I didn’t want to delve too deeply into that.
I was, honestly, terrified of what I might find if I did.
I turned away and looked out around us. Rolling green hills and a blue sky dotted with white, fluffy clouds made it seem like we were sitting in a painting. If it weren’t so windy, I could be painting right now.
I didn’t want to have to wait.
I sighed.
Matthew looked at me. “What’s wrong?”
“I wish it wasn’t so windy. I could at least sketch this for scale. It’s so beautiful here.”
He eyed me for a moment. “Wait here.”
“What?” I jerked around when he jumped up. “What are you doing? Matthew, where are you going?”
“Hold on!”
He made his way down the rocky patch we were sitting on and jumped onto the path, then walked along it until he was out of view.
What on Earth was he doing?
I pushed my hair away from my face and dug in my pocket in case I had a hairband. Thankfully, being a woman paid off, and I pulled three from the left pocket of my jacket. I teased my hair into a hastily knotted bun, and a minute or so later, Matthew reappeared.
“Here.” He handed me a small sketchbook and pencil. “So you can sketch it.”
“Are you mental? In this wind?”
He grinned and pulled off his jacket, revealing a second one underneath. “I always keep a spare in the car.”
“What on Earth are you doing?”
Matthew moved as the wind came in, and he held the jacket out for me, so it acted somewhat as a windbreak. “Helping.”
A laugh bubbled up. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Probably a little bit, so hurry up before it comes back!”
I flipped open the notepad, giggling, and quickly got to work. I just needed the scale of things as I saw them and to mark out the little things like the house over the hill that I’d miss in photos.
I worked quickly, glancing up every few seconds to add small details. Matthew’s eyes never left me, watching me as I sketched out a basic outline that I could transfer to a canvas later on.
It took several minutes, and Matthew kept me mostly protected from the wind the whole time. There was so much more I wanted to get on paper, but I knew I could come back, and if I came when it wasn’t windy, there wouldn’t be a limit on the time I could spend here.
“Okay, done. I should be able to work from that and a few photos.” I flipped the top of the book down, used my phone to snap a few pictures, then looked up at him. “Thank you.”
He dropped the coat and held out his hand. I clasped it with mine, and he pulled me to my feet, steadying me just enough so that I didn’t slip on the grassy slope beneath us. A shiver ran down my spine at the strength with which he held my hand, and he instantly draped the spare jacket over my shoulders.
It smelt like him.
Like woodland and hot buttered toast.
Which was fitting, considering I’d caught him eating two slices of toast while walking the dogs this morning.
I smiled to myself and slipped my arms into the jacket, then tucked the sketchbook close to my body. “Thank you.”
“The wind is cold,” he murmured, helping me back down to the path. He circled his arm around me, pulling me tight against his side.
I couldn’t help but glance back at the well before it disappeared out of my line of sight.
And there was a teeny, tiny voice inside me that whispered to it, against all my wishes, sending a silent question to the sacred fish or eel that legend said lived there.
I had a feeling I would be back here very, very soon.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MATTHEW
“Guess who’s baaaaaack!”
I stopped dead in the doorway, and Eva bumped into my back.
“Ooft. What are you—”
A chorus of Guess Who’s Back, Back Again by Eminem broke out courtesy of my beloved grandmother. She was in the middle of the hall, still dressed in her holiday clothes of white linen trousers and a bright blue top, sunglasses and sunflower patterned sunhat, rapping Eminem.
