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Just past the pools where the sea began in earnest sat an outcrop protruding from the edge of the cove. The tide was low enough to reach the base of the rocks, and Pippa had been considering climbing it for some time, but she couldn’t do so in front of her niece and nephew. Mabel had spoken to her on more than one occasion about setting a good example for them, and apparently climbing trees and rocks in a dress was not proper behavior for anyone, let alone a young lady.
Which only showed how much Mabel had changed. She’d never forbidden Pippa from climbing trees in her childhood. If she had, Pippa couldn’t recall it. And Pippa had turned out to be a lovely adult, hadn’t she? It wasn’t her fault that she ended up in scrapes more often than not. She had an adventurous spirit.
“Auntie! A crab!” James looked up from where he squatted a few yards away and Pippa hurried toward him, picking her way over the dryer rocks.
“Don’t dirty your Sunday clothes or your mother will be furious with me,” Pippa said as Elinor rushed to hide behind her.
James hadn’t seemed to hear her. He lifted the crab from the water, grinning as he raised it high above the rocks. “Come see it, Elinor.”
“No,” she said, staying behind Pippa and peeking out at her brother. “You’ll toss it at me.”
“Will not.”
“Will too.”
Pippa’s balance wavered, and she reached back to steady her niece and keep them both from falling into the cold water. “James will not throw the crab at you, because he is a kind brother, and he doesn’t wish to distress you.” She emphasized her words, sending a wide-eyed look to her nephew.
“I promise!” James called.
Elinor tentatively stepped out from behind Pippa’s skirt, and James raised the crab to show her. Once she got close enough to see the animal, its legs and claws squirming mid-air, James jerked it forward, pretending to toss it at his sister, though it never left his hands.
Elinor screamed. She backed up, losing her footing, and slipping on the wet rocks. She splashed in the shallow pools, her high-pitched shriek renting the air unabated.
Oh, drat. Her dress. Mabel was going to be vexed.
Pippa sent James a scowl, and he tucked back into himself, his cheeks pinking under her scrutiny. “I didn’t mean to make her fall,” he said defensively. “I only wanted to scare her.”
Pippa stepped closer to her distraught niece. “Elinor, have you hurt—Elinor, I cannot speak to you when you wail on so. Hush a moment, darling.”
Elinor was far too busy screaming to hear Pippa’s plea, and she continued to cry, lying on her side in the shallow water as it rose and lowered slightly with the tide. Elinor’s light brown hair was strewn beside her in the water and tears streaked her cheeks.
“Someone is coming,” James said, pointing behind Pippa.
She turned to see a man running down the steep, sloped pathway to the beach, removing his coat as he went. A ball of unease lodged in Pippa’s throat, drying her voice as she watched William Blakemore toss his Sunday coat—or she assumed that is what it was, for it was well-made and cut close to his figure—into the dirty sand and run across the rocky beach. She stared at him as though he were a crab with two heads.
Pippa didn’t have the heart to tell the man hastening to Elinor’s rescue that the little girl was prone to theatrics and not likely injured. He had real fear in his eyes, which was understandable. Elinor’s screams did sound awfully loud.
“What happened?” he called as he neared, his chest heaving, breath panting. He reached up to loosen his cravat and revealed a tanned triangle of skin.
Pippa forced her gaze away from his neck.
“Is she hurt?”
Pippa crouched down and gently took Elinor by the hand. The surprise of a man appearing out of nowhere must have subdued her, for her crying had slowed to silent, whining sobs. “Elinor, are you hurt?”
Elinor nodded, her bottom lip pushed out as she lay in the freezing water. But was she nodding because of her injured pride, or had she truly hurt herself in her fall? It was difficult to know when to take her seriously, and she appeared well enough.
“Come. Let us get you home,” Pippa said, eager for something to do that might remove the image of William running to rescue them from her mind. It was no use. He’d been seared into her thoughts, appearing in his haste over and over again without any prompting on Pippa’s part.
He’d looked like such a hero, and that was a handsome quality in a man.
Elinor continued to sob quietly as she allowed Pippa to help her stand. William splashed through the rock pools, seemingly heedless of the water drenching his boots and pantaloons. “I can carry her.” He gestured as though he meant to lift Elinor in his arms. “Shall I take you home, little one?”
Elinor gazed up at her savior in admiration, and Pippa smarted. She’d been right beside her niece the entire time yet was allotted none of Elinor’s grave gratitude. Quite unfair.
“You really needn’t go to such trouble,” Pippa said. “Elinor can probably walk. Can you not, Ellie?”
Elinor shook her head. Pippa refrained from rolling her eyes. Even her niece was struck by this man.
