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CHAPTER23
Four days had passed since the Blakemore men had come to dine, and Pippa had gone out of her way to stay clear of William. She did not trust herself around him yet. He was too romantic, too sweet, and she was too susceptible to his charm.
Gram sat in a chair near the fire in the drawing room and Pippa sat across from her, staring at the chessboard between them and deciding where she wanted to move. She had been losing horribly to Gram all morning, her mind so distracted and unable to focus on any sort of strategy.
Pippa slid her knight around a bishop, and Gram snorted.
“Are you trying to lose, Pip?”
“No.” Well, not actively. Though she certainly wasn’t trying to win, either.
Gram snorted again, then moved her bishop and stole Pippa’s knight. “Check.”
Drat. She hadn’t seen that coming yet, but she could see now how she’d practically opened the pathway for Gram to take her king. What had she been thinking?
Oh, right. She hadn’t been thinking at all.
“I think I need some fresh air.”
Gram frowned, soft wrinkles creasing her forehead. “You spend too much time outside. It will ruin your complexion.”
“It already has, Gram,” Pippa said, leaning down to leave a kiss on her cheek. Gram pretended to swat her away, but the crotchety old woman’s smile revealed her pleasure. She liked Pippa, and Pip knew it.
It was a moment’s work to find her scarlet cloak and throw it over her shoulders, and she was outside shortly after, breathing in the salty air and tucking loose strands of hair back into the knot at the base of her neck. The wind increased, pulling at her skirts and wrapping them around her legs as she walked.
When she made it out of the tree-lined drive and onto the path, she pulled up short. A man stood on the edge of the cliff near the mouth of the path that led down to Camden Cove, his arms resting behind his back as he surveyed the beach. For a brief moment, she believed it to be William, but Mr. Ainsworth’s lanky figure and downturned mouth could never pass as William for longer than a brief glance. He didn’t have William’s self-assured bearing or defined jawline.
Mr. Ainsworth turned and faced her, and she knew she could not sneak back into the comfort of the trees behind her. She stepped toward him and paused near the mouth of the beach path. “Good day, Mr. Ainsworth.”
“It is a good day, indeed, Miss Sheffield. I have a good feeling about today.” He bounced on the balls of his feet, and anxious energy sloughed from him in waves.
She tried to hide her surprise. “Have you been able to collect on your debt?”
Confusion lay over him briefly before he came to himself. “Not yet, but I have a feeling I shall by the end of the week. Things are lining up for me nicely, and now I simply must wait for...certain events to play themselves out.”
Things were lining up for him? Could the events that would play themselves out possibly be another smuggling endeavor? Surely it was too soon for William to do it again, particularly after almost being caught.
William needed to be warned.
“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” she said, gesturing to the path behind him. “I have an appointment with a friend I am late for.”
“Must you walk far? I would be happy to accompany you.”
“Not far at all.” She stretched her smile further over her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You recall Lily Burke? I believe we met for the first time just outside her door.”
“Of course, but is her home not the other direction?”
“She works at Ravenwood Cottage.”
Mr. Ainsworth blinked at her a few times. “And is that not the Blakemore cottage?”
“It is.” She tried to smile again, but her cheeks were growing stiff and uncomfortable. “You are learning the people quite well for one so new. Good day, Mr. Ainsworth.”
He lifted his hat to her, and she slipped around him, unwilling to invite the man to come along with her on this errand. Particularly when she hoped not to see Lily at all, and when Mr. Ainsworth was so suspicious. Had he seen her coming from the drive to Camden Court and connected that she was likely the person who’d hit him over the head on the beach? He’d grabbed at her cloak that night, the very cloak she wore now.
She must hope that the night had been too dark and his vision too faulty after awakening to recall those little details.
Swallowing hard, Pippa made it to the path that curved into Ravenwood Cottage and slipped through the woods. If she got lucky, perhaps she would find William outside, would be able to deliver her warning to him, and then could leave again swiftly.
