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He grunted. “Is your safety really not...” He expelled a breath. “Then watch over him if you wish. I am going to help my men.” He strode away, leaving her with a racing heart and a thread of annoyance. Her safety? The only man who would do her harm was unconscious on the sand before her, and it was her fault. The effrontery to call the others his men when they were undoubtedly Collacott men grated on her nerves.
Pippa sat in the sand beside Mr. Ainsworth, watching the tide as best she could to ensure it did not reach them, and fighting concern for the man’s wellbeing. She’d never hit a person before, especially not over the head with a branch, and guilt filled her heavily.
Dark, shadowy outlines of men finished unloading the boat and filling the wagon before a tall man hopped up into the driver’s seat beside the man already seated there, and they took off. A handful of remaining men, John Caney among them, dragged the boat up onto the sand before following the wagon up the rise.
A deep, incoherent voice broke through the quiet, and Pippa turned sharply toward Mr. Ainsworth to find him stirring. She jumped to her feet, backing away.
The wagon had yet to reach the top of the rise, and the men were still crossing the beach. Pippa wiped the sand from her cloak, searching the darkness for the figure which best resembled William, but it was too difficult to make out which man he was, despite the growing starlight.
Mr. Ainsworth continued to stir, mumbling now, though she still could not make out what he was saying. As relieved as she was that he appeared to be largely uninjured, his awareness was coming a few minutes too soon.
She needed to warn William.
