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CHAPTER6
The tree-lined drive dripped with foliage that rose and hung over the shady lane. William’s boots stomped through the short gravel drive that led up to the dark stone house. It was a decently sized home, not so large as to be pretentious, but beautiful all the same with its dark green moss growing over the gray stone. William enjoyed the setting of his grandfather’s cottage, small as it might be, but it was drafty and dark. This house, however, looked nothing short of perfect.
It was far removed from the clean lines and stark whiteness of the Palladian house William had resided in for the last twenty years, but perhaps that was part of the appeal.
“Bring her this way,” Pippa said, gesturing toward the large front door. She opened it and stepped aside. William caught a whiff of something floral when he passed Pippa and wanted to slow his steps, to breathe a little deeper, but he continued to follow James down the corridor and into a small sitting room.
Dampness had seeped through his waistcoat and dripped down the front of his pantaloons, chilling his skin. The girl had dripped most of the way home, and William seemed to have absorbed a good amount of the seawater. Elinor’s renewed cries shook her little body upon reaching her home, though William assumed she was more offended by her brother’s antics than hurt.
The door closed, and Pippa’s footsteps were close behind him. He couldn’t decipher exactly what it was about the woman that had caught his attention, but she had successfully snared him like a fish on a hook. He wanted to stroll beside her and ask her to tell him more about herself. How was this young woman who looked so prim and proper in her bonnet and shawl, sitting straight-backed in the church pew, her attention riveted by the vicar so deeply that she hardly looked elsewhere over the duration of the sermon, the same young woman who chose to walk home from church, to remove her bonnet and shamelessly allow the sun to tan her cheeks, and who climbed trees when no one else was nearby?
Pippa was a puzzle, and William was awfully fond of deciphering puzzles.
“Elinor is well, though a trifle wet,” Pippa said immediately when her older sister stood from the sofa, the babe in her arms squirming to see who had just entered the room. “She was startled and fell in the rock pools.”
Pippa laid William’s coat over the back of a chair and set down her bonnet before taking the small babe from her sister. Mrs. Mackenzie came to stand before William, giving him a curious yet grateful look. “And you happened upon them? You must accept my gratitude for carrying Elinor all the way home.”
William handed the child to her mother. He smiled down at Elinor’s little face before she calmly buried it in her mother’s neck, holding her tiny hands to her chest. “It was her...distress...that alerted me to the trouble. How could I not run to the aid of a young woman whose cries carried to me all the way on the cliffside?”
And run, he had. William had been frightened upon hearing the screams, the sound transporting him back in time to that awful day five years earlier that had forever changed his life. William hadn’t hesitated even a moment. The sound of young Elinor’s distress was a sudden ignitor within him, spurning him into immediate action like a flame to kindling.
Mrs. Mackenzie’s lips twitched. “Still, I thank you all the same. Please tell me you’ll stay for some tea.”
William’s gaze sought Pippa. She looked away quickly, and he wickedly wished to drive her into action. He didn’t appreciate this polite, prim Pippa as much as he did the witty, snappy one.
His shirt stuck to his stomach though, the dampness on the front of his legs from carrying Elinor making him appear a mess. “If I was the least bit presentable, I would love to accept your offer. As it stands, I’m afraid I’m not fit for company.”
“Oh, dear. Elinor did that, did she not?” Mrs. Mackenzie asked, locating the dampness on his waistcoat and shirt sleeves with her eyes. She clicked her tongue. “Now I really must insist that you remain. We are not so stuffy as to refuse a damp gentleman a much-needed restorative cup of tea.” She moved toward the door, then paused and looked back at him. “I’ll send for some cake, too. I’m certain you must be famished after carrying Elinor all the way home.”
William was used to carrying barrels of brandy up steep climbs in the dark that weighed more than that little slip of a girl. The walk hadn’t been a trial in the least. But he certainly would never refuse cake.
“After the sorry fare I’ve been subject to the last few days, cake certainly sounds marvelous.”
Mrs. Mackenzie indicated where William could sit. “I’m going to take Elinor up to change into dry clothing, but I’ll return quickly.” She looked from the open doorway to her son. “James, you will remain until I return?”
“Of course, Mama.”
She smiled before quitting the room with her distraught young daughter in her arms.
“Mama told us that your cottage has been empty for longer than I’ve been alive,” James said. The young boy had wide, curious eyes that made it difficult for William to look away.
Pippa walked toward the window, bouncing the baby in her arms, and William moved to sit on the edge of a ladder-back, wooden chair near James. If he were to leave a wet smudge behind on this seat, it would hardly suffer. “My father lived his whole life in that cottage, but I only lived there until I was five, so I hardly remember anything about it. And your mother is correct. When we left it, no one moved in to take our place and our house has been empty ever since.”
“Our house was empty before my papa and mama were married, too,” James said. “Now it is so full, we hardly have room for all of us.”
William understood that sentiment well. His cottage had two cramped bedchambers, one on the ground floor and the second upstairs. Due to his immobility, Father had taken the downstairs chamber, leaving William to share his space with Roger. They were friends, of course, and had worked together for nearly a decade now, but one could only manage being around the same man day in and out for so long. William was certain he would go mad if he were forced to remain in Roger’s company forevermore. The little walks he’d begun taking alone had helped to clear his mind and give him a break from his overfilled house.
Today, his walk had been exceedingly beneficial as it had led to this little interlude. Tea and cake, which he was massively looking forward to, and Pippa.
Pippa crossed toward him and James, lifting the coat from where it rested on the back of a chair and bringing it to William. He accepted it, brushing her fingers, and he wished they didn’t have gloves layered between them. He wondered if her skin was smooth or rough. Given the size of her home and the two servants he’d already seen, he would typically assume her skin to be as smooth as the porcelain teacup he would soon be drinking from. But Pippa wasn’t like anyone else he knew. She climbed trees and walked in rockpools. Did that roughen her skin?
Curiosity pulsed within him, crowded by the hollow emptiness of his stomach. A rumble rolled loudly.
Pippa sat on the sofa opposite him, bouncing the baby on her knee. She looked to his stomach, where the sound had emanated from, no doubt having heard it. “I’m told that you are looking to hire a cook.”
Yes. She’d definitely heard it. How embarrassing.
He lifted an eyebrow, bringing one ankle up to rest on the opposite knee. “Are you offering your services, Miss Sheffield?”
