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He sat on a rock as the blue sky turned darker. He’d spent too long out here and would need to get home soon before he lost the ability to see the way.
Pippa followed him to the rocks, waiting while he pulled his stockings on. She didn’t avert her eyes, as he’d expected her to, and it only made him chuckle softly.
“How is Lily—er, Miss Burke, I suppose—doing in your kitchen?” she asked.
“For such a small space and not much to work with, she’s been wonderful,” he said.
Pippa nodded. “And she is being treated well?”
William shoved his feet into his boots before he stood and wiped his hands down his sandy, wet trousers. “Have you been concerned for her?”
“Yes,” she said without delay. “Of course I would be worried. My friend has gone to cook for complete strangers.”
“We are not strangers to all who live here,” he reminded her. They began climbing the steep, rocky path up to the top of the rise.
“Yes, but those who knew you before did not originally sing your praises.”
William halted on the path, reaching for Pippa’s hand. He was surprised to find it unadorned, and he was grateful he’d stuffed his own gloves in his pocket earlier when he’d arrived down at the cove. Her skin was delightfully smooth, but he could feel the worn, rough patches here and there where she’d developed calluses. As he’d expected, Pippa was a little of both: rough and smooth. And he loved it.
“Why do you hold such prejudice against me, Pippa? I’ve known you but a week, and yet I feel I ought to work to prove myself.”
“Because you are the sort of man who flirts without censure and uses Christian names willy nilly.”
She didn’t tug her hand free of his grip, and William rejoiced in the warm connection. She turned to face him better, and he stepped closer, their joint hands hanging between them. “I believe I was not the first to use a Christian name this evening without express permission.”
Her eyes widened, glowing in the bleary twilight. “If I slipped, I assure you it wasn’t intentional.”
“Do not say that. You’ll only disappoint me.”
Pippa’s lips flattened. “You cannot expect me to take you seriously when you speak such ridiculous things.”
“Who is saying they are ridiculous? It wounds me that you would believe me to be inauthentic.”
Pippa laughed. “See? Precisely that. You are a flirt, William, and I should hope you wouldn’t speak to Lily in such a way. Not unless you are genuine.”
He stilled. Pippa’s fingers danced slightly, trying to break away, but he didn’t want to lose the contact. Not yet. He ran his thumb over her palm, tracing the curved line that creased around her thumb. She froze beneath his touch; he was glad he had something of an effect on this perplexing creature.
Her warning was worrisome. He’d noticed Lily watching him, and he’d tried to be polite to the girl, but she hadn’t captured his interest. Not like Pippa had.
“Perhaps you only tell yourself I’m not genuine because you don’t wish for me to be.”
Pippa shook her head. “There. Again with the ridiculousness. You couldn’t be genuine, for I’ve known you a week, sir. One week.”
“People have fallen in love in less time than that.”
“Yes, but those people were not you and I.”
William wanted her to be wrong. He liked this woman excessively. Her blunt manner, her ability to climb trees in a dress, her lack of bonnet leading to tanned cheeks and a dash of freckles over her nose—she was simply lovely. Perhaps he had not fallen in love with her in the space of a week, but he had grown genuinely interested in her.
“Do you have any suitors?” he asked, leaning forward and lowering his voice.
“No. Not a single one.”
“Then I have time on my side.” He released her hand, certain he’d left behind sand on her skin. He was thoroughly covered in it.
Pippa shook her head, but she didn’t move. “You will regret those words, William. I have a penchant for getting into trouble.”
“Then it is a good thing I’ve been called trouble once or twice in my life.”
