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CHAPTER1
An early autumn breeze lifted over the edge of the Devonshire coastline and dragged a lock of hair across the back of Pippa’s neck. She closed her eyes, breathing in the cool, salty air and letting it cleanse her lungs. The sun beat down on her, but it was no match for the gusts blowing off the sea and driving prickles along her skin. Not that Pippa minded. She hadn’t been born near the sea, but it ran through her blood.
Regardless of what her older sister and surrogate mother, Mabel, wanted for her, she would never leave the Devon coast. It was every bit a part of her with its imperfect rocky edges, vibrant yellow ragwort, and pink sea thrift. The swirling water below smashed against the pillar-like rocks standing sentinel along the dangerous coastline, sending a mist through the air that glittered in the sunlight, and Pippa breathed life into her body through the salty air.
She continued down the path which had been forged through time by donkeys carrying their loads of mackerel and pilchards or people heading to the market in Collacott. It wasn’t exactly escaping her duties to slip away for an hour or so in the middle of the morning, but guilt swept through her all the same. She had promised to read to Elinor from the old children’s primer in the afternoon though, and that should more than make up for her absence during morning lessons.
Her five-year-old niece had a special fondness for The Little Red Riding Hood, though Pippa couldn’t understand why she loved the story so deeply. It had an awful ending.
Pippa came upon the fork in the path and turned inland, the wind pressing her skirts against the back of her legs as she made her way toward the abandoned cottage nestled in the wood. The further she drew from the ocean, the denser the trees became, hiding the small cottage from view of the narrow path completely, though she knew exactly where it was located. She had been escaping to this abandoned refuge for years.
Pippa had moved to Camden Court nearly ten years ago when her sister had married Liam MacKenzie and brought her to live with them. Her father was a captain in the Royal Navy, and though she’d begged him to take her on his ship when she was younger, he hadn’t been able to do so. But Pippa loved Mabel, so the move to Camden Court hadn’t been excessively difficult, and it had provided her with new places to explore.
Pippa inhaled the damp, woodsy scent as she trekked further inland. Relentless rain from the previous two days had left its mark in the shiny, lush, still-green leaves, autumn not quite far enough along to alter the foliage. The path was hardened now, the mud crusted and dried.
She clearly recalled the first day she’d taken this fork in the path in search of new trees to climb and had stumbled upon the derelict cottage down the lane. At first frightening in its hollow darkness and with a cracked front door, the quaint, abandoned house had quickly grown in her esteem. It was now one of her favorite places to spend a quiet hour or two in solitude. She loved her niece and nephews, but they produced a great deal of noise.
A dip in the path turned her ankle to the side, and Pippa dropped on the hard ground, her shoulder scraping the rough trunk of the tree beside her as she fell. A lock of hair slipped free from her knot and fell over her face, and she blew it away, pushing herself onto her knees. She’d been traipsing through this woodland and climbing its trees for more than nine years, and that large rut in the walkway hadn’t been there before now.
She glanced up the way and noticed more ruts in the dried mud. The shape and consistency looked as though they were the product of wheels traveling through the wet road, and unease tightened Pippa’s abdomen.
Who would be coming to the abandoned cottage, and why would they bring a cart with them?
Pippa brushed her dirty hands down her skirt and carefully picked her way through the trees toward the cottage. A loud pounding noise caught her attention, and she looked up swiftly. A man’s voice broke through the stillness, and Pippa jumped from the lane, pressing herself against a wide tree.
“Just there,” the man called. “No, over just a bit. The other way!”
Curiosity reared its head, poking at Pippa until she consented to the temptation to peek. She stepped forward, carefully picking her way through the trees until she neared the cottage. In all her years living at Camden Court, the few times she’d inquired about the state of this cottage she’d been met with a severe warning to stay away. The house itself was not cursed, but the man who owned it allegedly carried darkness in his heart.
The man shouting orders swore loudly, and Pippa jumped.
Or perhaps—if the man here today was the absent owner himself—it was less a matter of the house being cursed, and more that he cursed. So far, Pippa had heard no less than three disreputable words, and she’d only been eavesdropping for a small handful of minutes.
Movement beyond the foliage continued as the men—for the first had to be talking to someone—appeared to be putting up a new door. Or they’d repaired the cracked wood and were now returning it to its hinges. Pippa caught the sight of a thin, blond man with his face turned away from her and wanted a better look. But she couldn’t very well walk up to the men and introduce herself, not if they were really so bad as she’d been led to believe.
Her reputation wouldn’t thank her were she to continue to spy, but Pippa didn’t care much for Society’s pompous ideas of what held importance. To her, fresh, salty air, the rolling sound of waves, and her family were the only things which held any great importance.
Choosing the perfect tree, Pippa grasped the lower branches and swung herself up, slowly making her way to the midpoint where the branches were sturdy enough to hold her weight and high enough for her to better see Ravenwood Cottage. She wedged herself against the trunk, crossing her ankles where they hung and hoping to blend into the browns and greens around her. Her spencer jacket matched the bark, but her blue gown would certainly be spotted if one of the men cared to look her way.
Unless she climbed even higher to blend with the sky . . . She shook the thought away. That was only likely to draw the mens’ attention.
“Just hold it a little longer,” the second man called. He remained out of sight, his voice muffled from the door. Pounding followed, and a few short minutes later, the blond man released the door and stepped back.
There appeared to be three men in total thus far: the oldest by a couple of decades, gray from his coat to his hair and seated on a cart, barking orders, a blond, lanky man obeying the orders, and another inside the cottage. Perhaps they intended to move into the cottage and join the community, and perhaps they had a sister Pippa’s age she could befriend. The prospect excited her, and she strained to hear sounds of a woman at the pump around the back or inside, singing as she cooked.
The front door swung open and a dark-haired man in his shirtsleeves and a waistcoat stepped through before slamming the door shut, jarring Pippa. He looked to the blond and grinned, and Pippa was robbed of breath, her fingers gripping the bark until her knuckles turned white.
Never in all of Pippa’s nearly nineteen years had she beheld a man so handsome. His startling, white grin blazed even from the distance, and his dark eyebrows framed expressive eyes. She wanted to melt into the tree so she could perch from this place and watch the front of the cottage always, regardless of how mad that made her sound.
Could this be madness? Or the beginning of falling in love?
Pippa shook her head. Love? Obviously not. It was nothing more than strong attraction. She needed to manage her feelings before she lost all sense of control and fell to her death. She looked down at the earth, so far away, and swallowed.
Well, maybe not her death, but a broken leg was a broken leg.
And she could not very well find a way to meet this gentleman easily if she had a broken leg.
“Get on with the shed now,” the older man shouted, and the handsome, dark-haired gentleman immediately stiffened. He agreed and spoke to the blond man before walking around to the back garden of the cottage.
