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Why did he do that? Put her down in that odious manner? When, sometimes, he could be so kind? For instance, he’d been so gentle and tender with her when he’d bathed her injured hand with ice. But now he seemed to be deliberately going out of his way to prevent her believing there was any good in him, as if he regretted letting her see he had a streak of decency within him.

‘But, yes,’ he said in a voice that was no longer harsh and impatient. ‘We are indeed going to the seaside.’

She turned to look at him in the vain hope he regretted speaking to her the way he had.

‘We are going to spend a week in a small fishing village. Which is situated,’ he said drily, ‘of necessity, at the seaside.’

‘It might be nothing special to you,’ she said, her hurt at his attitude once again sweeping aside all her good intentions. ‘But going to the seaside is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me.’ If you discounted marrying the man she’d been dreaming about ever since she’d grown old enough to know that lips were made for kissing, that was.

* * *

It felt like an age before the carriage finally drew up in front of a row of cottages, clinging to the side of a hill in a position that gave them an unobstructed view of a most picturesque little bay.

‘I do hope the accommodation meets with your approval, my lord,’ said Slater, pulling down the window and letting in the sounds of gulls and waves on a tide of the freshest air she’d ever breathed.

‘The middle cottage is for your use exclusively,’ said Slater, ‘yours and her ladyship’s, that is. The rest of us will take the cottages to either side.’

The rest of us were just rolling up in the three carriages that had been trundling along behind them all the way from London. Apparently a marquess could not enjoy a holiday by the sea without his French chef, who required an army of scullions, as well as his valet, a couple of housemaids, a brace of footmen, and Ponsonby to preside over them all. Not to mention Nancy, who was riding in the coach containing, to her chagrin, the other female members of staff.

Lord Rawcliffe inspected the whitewashed front of the row of cottages with faint disdain. ‘I am sure,’ he said witheringly, ‘that you did your best, in the short space of time I gave you to procure something. Shall we inspect our lodgings?’ He held out his arm to help her from the carriage and led her to the middle of the three blue-painted front doors.

It opened into a small hall, from which a staircase ran straight to the upper floor. There were chipped and dented doors to both right and left, leading to small reception rooms, one of which contained armchairs and a sofa, the other one being fitted up as a dining room. Both of them had views straight down the hill to the bay.

Upstairs there were two more rooms. But unlike the layout downstairs, where the rooms were on either side of the stairs, up here, one faced the front, and one the back. She paced to the window of the front bedroom from which she could see little boats dotted about a harbour. Men bending over fishing nets, which were spread out in all directions. Cliffs, which spread out like arms protecting the bay from harm. And beyond that, in a great, grey, sparkling silken sheet, the sea.

‘I take it,’ said Rawcliffe in that dry, sarcastic tone he’d been employing ever since she’d betrayed how excited she was to be coming to the seaside for the very first time, ‘you would prefer to have the use of this bedroom?’

She would prefer them to share this room. To lie all night in his arms and wake up feeling…cherished.

But it was no use wanting the impossible.

So she smiled. ‘Yes, please.’

He shrugged. ‘As you wish, my dear.’

She watched the stiff set of his shoulders as he strolled out of the room. And wondered, which was the real Lord Rawcliffe. The one who spoke so cuttingly? Or the one who did such kind, unselfish things?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

‘Well, now that is settled, shall we go and explore and see if we can discover what passes for entertainment in this hamlet?’ Rawcliffe was already out on the landing, holding out his arm, practically demanding she place her hand upon it and follow him.

But for once, she had no desire to argue with him. She wanted to go and explore this quaint little town, especially the parts which bordered the sea. And, since Nancy was starting to show signs of regarding her wardrobe the way a dragon did its hoard, she was going to be better off getting out of the way while the maid unpacked and arranged her room anyway.

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