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Mac grunted. “I won’t do them the dishonor of making up my mind yet but given the reputation Mr. Blakemore held when he lived here previously, I would caution you all to be mindful.”
Mr. Blakemore. So the older man she’d seen shouting orders had been William’s father. But who was the blond? A servant? A friend? She’d been a fair distance away, but he hadn’t appeared to resemble either of the Blakemore men in the least.
The cart grew silent as they pulled into the churchyard. Mac jumped down from his seat and came around to help Mabel and Pippa before James and Elinor climbed to the ground.
Pippa’s curiosity was only growing, fed and watered by Mac’s insistent caution. She appreciated his attempt to remain fair, but she could see in the worry lacing her brother-in-law’s brow that he was more concerned than he let on.
The Burke family stepped into the churchyard and Pippa broke away from her family to approach Lily. “Tommy is still unwell?” she asked, sweeping her gaze over the family and finding the ten-year-old boy absent.
Lily’s freckled complexion wrinkled in worry. “Yes. Mama stayed home with him.”
“James will be sad to hear it.”
Their families both went toward the church, and Mabel cast a look over her shoulder at Pippa. “We should go inside before we are late.”
Pippa stepped forward, lowering her voice as she walked beside her friend toward the old stone building. “We have new neighbors.”
“Men?” Lily asked immediately, her eyes shining with hope. There were so few men in Collacott that weren’t married, and lately it seemed that most who weren’t spent the majority of their day in the tavern.
Pippa couldn’t contain her grin. “Handsome men, in fact. But according to Mac, we ought to be wary of the Blakemores.”
Lily’s face fell. “They’ve moved into Ravenwood Cottage? You’re certain it’s them?”
She nodded. “It is a fitting name for that crumbling hovel.”
Lily widened her eyes. “Yes, and there is a reason Mr. Blakemore has earned the name Black Heart Blakemore. We ought to stay clear. Very clear.” Lily had lived her entire life in Collacott, and knew the people’s history well. She was wise despite her young age of eighteen, with a balanced head on her shoulders. Her opinion was one to trust.
Disappointment filled Pippa with lead, anchoring her body in place. She followed her friend to the church with heavy steps and turned when she reached the door, surprised to find three riders approaching on horseback.
The riders drew closer, and Pippa sucked in a quiet gasp when she locked eyes with William. His clothes were nicer than his working attire of yesterday—though she’d appreciated the look of the man in his shirtsleeves—and he lifted his black hat toward her, grinning broadly atop his horse. She was overcome with questions and the need to find answers. Why was a man who could afford to outfit himself so nicely for church living in an old, abandoned cottage? Why was his father labeled Black Heart Blakemore? Why did William seem to enjoy bringing a blush to Pippa’s cheeks?
The two men beside William didn’t appear to notice the quick greeting he had sent her way, and Pippa spun away to enter the church, but not before a wide smile stole over her lips. She tempered it before sitting on the dark wooden bench beside little Elinor.
A murmur swept through the congregation a few short minutes later, and Pippa remained stiffly facing forward, using every minuscule amount of control she possessed to keep from turning to look at the Blakemores’ entrance. They were dark-haired and dangerous-looking men, and despite the mild warning Mac and Lily had both cautioned, Pippa found herself interested to learn more about William.
She looked up to find Mabel watching her shrewdly. “You’re acting strangely,” she whispered, leaning over Elinor.
“I am not.”
Mabel’s eyes narrowed.
Mr. Robinson rose on the shallow steps up to the raised pulpit and began his sermon by welcoming the people of Collacott. But despite his enthusiastic preaching on the merits of turning the other cheek, he failed to hold Pippa’s attention. She felt the weight of William’s presence somewhere behind her, and it was with great fortitude that she passed the entirety of the church service without so much as turning her head to find him.
