But Abigail did not look surprised. “I do not blame you for not noticing. Her remarks are always very subtle. But I told you before that she has been upset ever since my uncle did not accept her advances. She lashed out, though, hurting me, instead of my uncle. I would not be surprised if she assumed that I was the real cause of his rejecting her.” Her eyes stared out to the sea, though she didn’t seem to focus on anything in particular. “I was once invited to attend a gathering at Pryvly House to celebrate her daughter’s birthday. Mostly, it was just a way for them to flaunt their wealth before other families who were not as affluent.
“I was rather nervous and did not wish to go, but Uncle said it would help ease the tension between our families. But I knew the moment I arrived that was not to be. Mrs. Stedman wished to make an example of me. She allowed the girls to tease me about my new dress, specially made for the occasion. She told me that clothing could not hide my many flaws, and that I was an unwanted orphan using a dress to keep my past a secret.”
Gavin shook his head in disgust. To have such things be said to Abigail when she was only a little girl made the blood sear in his veins. And suddenly, his wife’s actions made sense.
“That was why you wore the dress you did last night,” he said, “instead of one of your finer gowns.”
Abigail lowered her head. “Yes, and still, the woman mentioned it, hinting that I had sewn it myself because of its simplicity. I really should not allow her words to affect me as they do. But it seemed that each time she spoke last evening, she merely wished to add to my discomfort. Mentioning Golowduyn’s size compared to Pryvly House, saying I had not been taught to read, speaking of my destitution, and of—”
“She said you could not read?”
Abigail said nothing. But then, she didn’t have to. He could see the truth already in her blue eyes.
His fists clenched together. He should have noticed. He should have defended Abigail last night, not shouted at her for running away from a home in which she was clearly being mistreated.
“I am sorry to have ever suggested going there,” he said, shame hardened in his stomach. “You may rest assured that we will never attend a dinner party in their home again. Please, forgive my foolishness in not seeing her true nature…and for not believing you from the start.”
Their eyes met, and he prayed she would see the earnestness of his apology. Finally, she nodded. “Of course I forgive you, Gavin. And I…I am sorry to have embarrassed you with my unladylike behavior.”
He took a step toward her, instantly shaking his head. “In no way have you embarrassed me, Abigail. You handled her criticism as gracefully as any fine lady. You did not retaliate, and that is something Mrs. Stedman could certainly never do. In truth, you behaved more ladylike than any of the women in attendance last evening.”
With a softness he had never seen before in her eyes, Abigail stared up at him. Her pretty freckles lit in a blush.
“Thank you for understanding,” she said softly.
She seemed to hesitate a moment before closing the distance between them and reaching up to bestow a kiss on his cheek. The affection was fleeting, and she immediately scurried back to the house without another glance in his direction, her hair flopping to one side and bouncing as she moved.
Gavin’s heart stumbled.
The feel of her soft lips on his skin, the flutter of breath on his cheeks, lingered long after her kiss had occurred, as did the memory of her strength and goodness. She was a remarkable woman, indeed. And he had every intention of sharing the fact with the rest of the world—especially with Mrs. Stedman and her daughter.
* * *
After their conversation, Abigail and Gavin reached a new understanding in their relationship, gaining a deeper trust between them. To have Gavin validate her feelings, to have his support and belief, meant everything to Abigail. And though the niggling thought in the back of her mind reminded her that she still had secrets to reveal, she could not deny the peace that had entered into their marriage.
The next day, Lieutenant Harris returned to Golowduyn with the slate for the roof that had arrived in town that morning. As they unloaded the supplies from the back of a cart they had borrowed, Abigail apologized for dismissing him and asked him to continue looking after the light, should they need his help again.
He readily agreed, much to Abigail’s relief, and her heart soared when she saw Gavin’s pleased look behind him. But when she caught sight of Lieutenant Harris’s smile fading away, a wariness draped a shadow over her joy.
“What is it?” she asked, exchanging a glance with Gavin, who faced the lieutenant, as well.
“I did not have the chance to tell you last night,” the man said, “but as darkness fell, I went down the stairs for a brief moment for a cup of tea. I heard the chickens squawking outside, and when I looked into the henhouse, I discovered a feral cat.”
Abigail pulled a face. “A cat?” That was not so bad. She thought a ship had nearly wrecked upon the shores, or perhaps the lamps had blown out. A cat was nothing terrible.
The lieutenant nodded. “I opened the gate and managed to scare the animal away, but when I looked to mend the hole it had used to get in, I couldn’t find one. It was almost as if the animal had opened and closed the latch itself…Or someone else had put it in there altogether.”
Abigail’s stomach did a funny turn. Any relief she had felt before had vanished.
She looked over her shoulder to see the chickens happily pecking away at the grain on the ground.
“Who would do such a thing?” she asked. She caught a quick glance shared between Gavin and Lieutenant Harris. “What is it? Do you know who did it?”
Gavin rubbed a hand against his shoulder. “I do wonder if Myles Sanders might have had something to do with it.”
Abigail stared. “Because he is still upset with you? Would he do such a thing?”
“If Myles was willing to set fire to a ship,” Lieutenant Harris said, “and tamper with the anchor cables, I would not be surprised if he was behind this, as well, ma’am.”
The corner of her lip pulled in. What a ridiculous thing to do, to harass chickens in such a way. Thank heavens he hadn’t harmed the horses or any of their property, or…
A sudden thought occurred, a sinking in her chest. “Gavin, our boat?”
He slowly nodded. “I considered the very same.”
The boy had purposefully allowed their boat to become destroyed by the waves, simply because he held a grudge against Gavin? She couldn’t believe anyone could be so petty, nor so reckless. She reminded herself that the boy’s brother had just died, but still, she found pity difficult to come by when Myles had put other’s lives at risk by destroying the boat they used to save others.
“First our boat, now the chickens,” she murmured. “What will be next?”
“Hopefully nothing,” Gavin said.
But as he and Lieutenant Harris exchanged another glance, her agitation grew.
Throughout the rest of the day, her thoughts centered entirely on Myles and if he truly was the culprit—though she knew it was very unlikely to be anyone but the begrudging boy.
She did not have the chance to speak more about it with Gavin, however, as he had spent most of the day taking off the old slate from the roof, while Lieutenant Harris had gathered the broken pieces and tossed them in the cart they would use again tomorrow.
Abigail had stayed busy by remaining indoors and helping the Honeysetts in the kitchen. Thankfully, the woman and her rather loquacious daughter helped distract her from the unsettling news of Myles Sanders and his actions.
When dinner time arrived, Abigail stood on the landing outside, waiting for Gavin to put his tools away in the shed. She watched Lieutenant Harris and the Honeysetts depart from Golowduyn, catching sight of Poppy’s reddened cheeks as the lieutenant peered down at her. His jovial laughter—caused by something Poppy had said—soon drifted on the air toward her, and she watched them curiously before a horse
and rider approached, drawing her attention.
“Captain Kendricks?” the man asked, reining in just as Gavin emerged from the shed.
He extended a letter to Gavin—who handed the postman a couple of coins from his pocket—before the man set off in a quick dash.
“Who is it from?” Abigail asked, curious as his face brightened.
“My brother. He has finally accepted our invitation and will be here within a fortnight.”
“Invitation?”
“Yes, I’ve been waiting weeks without any word from him.”
“What do you mean?”
His smiled faltered. “Did I forget to mention that I invited him to stay with us?”
Abigail’s mouth hung open. “Yes, I’m afraid you did.”
“Forgive me. I must have been distracted to have let that slip my mind. I really thought I had mentioned it to you.”
As the information settled, all thought of Myles vanished, her mind struggling instead with coming to terms with Gavin’s news. Of course, he had every right to invite his family to stay there. Golowduyn was his home, as well. However…
“How are we to house them?” she asked, forcing a lightness to her tone, though she felt nothing but worry. “And provide for them?”
“Well, their two sons will remain with their grandparents in Gloucestershire, so we shall only have to accommodate for Lionel and his wife. My brother will be more than appeasing. And Gertrude,” he paused with a chuckle, “I’m certain she will adjust within a matter of days with the help of her servants.”
“Servants?” Abigail repeated, her voice nearly squeaking. “Do we have the room for them or…or your family?”
“We can manage. It will only be for a few weeks at the most.”
His nonchalant manner chipped at her accommodating behavior.
She was happy Gavin would be able to see his brother after so many years apart…but something bothered her, another fear deep within her soul.
Gavin’s brother and his wife would be more proper than even Gavin himself. They must have already formed an opinion of her—the poor lighthouse keeper destined for the workhouse, saved by the charity of their foolish brother.
She had only just escaped the clutches of the self-doubt the Stedmans had thrust upon her.
How was she to manage falling right back into those same feelings again?
But then, she knew how she would manage—she would simply remember her husband and what he’d done for her, and then welcome his family with open arms. Even if they did highly object to her being married to their brother.
Suppressing a sigh, Abigail faced Gavin with a smile that she hoped appeared more natural than it felt. “Your family is, of course, more than welcome to stay here with us, Gavin. But let us discuss the matter later. Do excuse me.”
She walked past him, but instead of moving toward the house, she headed for the shed.
“Where are you going?” Gavin called after her.
She disappeared within the small structure before returning with a fishing rod and a small pail of bait.
“Fishing,” she responded simply.
“Now?” He stared at her, clearly confused. “Is dinner not ready?”
“It is,” she said, walking past him and motioning to the house with a toss of her head. “You may go enjoy the meal while it is warm. I’ll return before the lamps must be lit.”
“Can you not fish another time?”
She set off across the cliffside, but Gavin kept up with her pace.
“Yes, but I’d rather do so now.”
He regarded her inquisitively. “Are you fishing now so you may avoid speaking with me about how you truly feel concerning my family’s visit—as well as hoping that the sea will bring you the peace you so desire?”
Since when had the man become so astute? There really was no point in lying now, not when he’d guessed so accurately. “Perhaps.”
They reached the slope that led to the beach, and Gavin stopped. “Then…shall I leave you be?”
She stopped a few paces in front of him. Being alone would certainly allow her the opportunity to think more about his family coming. But that was not necessarily a good thing. And, truth be told, she would never say no to spending more time with Gavin.
She resumed walking down the slope, speaking over her shoulder. “I would not mind if you joined me.”
With how observant he had been before, she was certain he would be able to see how desperately she wished for his company.
Sure enough, he quickened his pace and reached her side in a matter of moments, sending a pleased smile in her direction.
Before long, they reached the boat they had borrowed from Mr. Honeysett—their new one set to arrive in just a few days—and after Abigail tucked the fishing rod securely beneath the seat, they heaved the small vessel toward the sea.
Soft waves lapped at her skirts before she jumped into the boat.
She expected Gavin to join her, but he motioned for her to move to the seat facing forward.
“I’ll row, if you’d like me to,” he said.
Abigail’s mouth parted in surprise. She had only ever been in a boat alone or with her uncle—and even then, she had almost always rowed while he did the fishing. Though, she should not have been surprised by Gavin’s offer. She knew how much he loved to help.
She conceded with a nod, and switched seats before Gavin jumped in, splashing droplets of water across her knees.
He guided them farther into the water, and Abigail tried not to stare at him, though she failed miserably at the task.
Gavin’s jacket and cravat had been left behind at the house. A few buttons of his waistcoat were unfastened, allowing his shirt to fall open, and she struggled to keep her eyes from straying to the top of his sculpted chest.
Her thoughts wandered to that night so long ago when he had stood shirtless in her dining room. She would never have guessed that the wounded captain would one day become her husband.
“May I ask you what worries you most about my family coming?”
Abigail blinked. How long had she been staring? She glanced around them. They’d moved past the cliffsides and most of the larger waves and now sailed through lilting waters.
“A number of things worry me, I suppose,” she responded, attempting to gather her wits—her eyes continuing to trail across his chest, shoulders, and muscular forearms as he leisurely rolled the oars through the water. “That they will be unhappy at Golowduyn. That they and their servants will not fit. That they will not like our humble home or…or me.”
She expected him to laugh. She would have laughed herself, were she not so sensitive to the issue.
But to her surprise, he merely stared at her. “Abigail, how could they not love you?”
His eyes lingered on her. Her breath caught in her throat. Did he mean…Was he saying…No. She mentally shook herself. No, they were simple words. Nothing more.
And yet, suddenly, her troubles did not seem so very great at all. The tension in her body slowly slipped away, and her hands rested comfortably in her lap. She quite enjoyed not rowing, taking in her surroundings without the burning sensation in the muscles of her arms and legs.
The sun shimmered against the silvery-blue water, light reflecting in a straight line across the sea. Seagulls circled nearby, their calls sounding out against the forgiving waves.
She peered down at the calm water softly lapping at the boat. A few curls of hair refused to stay pinned back any longer, falling forward and tickling her temples.
She reached over the side of the boat, allowing her fingers to glide through the cold water as Gavin led them forward.
“So you do know how to relax.”
She looked up, becoming acutely aware of his brown eyes watching her. “I have always known how, sir. I simply needed reminding.”
A small wave splashed up her wrist, the cold exhilarating her senses, before a foreign, impish feeling arose within her. Before she could think twice about h
er actions, she cupped her fingers together, plunged her hand into the sea, and launched her arm forward.
Gavin gasped, ducking far too late as water soaked his chest and face. Dripping wet, he stared at her in silent bewilderment.
Abigail was just as surprised herself. She had only meant to tease him, but what if he thought her actions were rude? Would he be angry? Perhaps it was rather cruel of her to—
Her thoughts vanished as Gavin splashed water across her front in retaliation. She wiped the moisture from her eyes to see him shaking his hand free of the seawater still dripping from his fingers.
“I’ve had my revenge now,” he said, his eyes shining brighter than the sun on the sea. “We are even.”
“We are not. I am clearly wetter than you are.”
He flashed a grin. “Well, you did start this. It is only fair that I finished it.”
She made to protest again, but as his hand launched toward the water, hers did the same. They slapped the salty sea onto one another, yelping and grunting in surprise as the cold water covered their faces.
Finally, Abigail raised her hands in the air. “Stop,” she cried out, breathless with laughter and exhilaration. “Stop!”
Gavin immediately stopped, his own deep laughter filling the air until his eyes dropped to the bottom of the boat. “We are going to sink with all of this water you have brought aboard, madam.”
“If you recall, sir, I did not do this on my own.”
She cast him a knowing look before she caught sight of something floating away in the water, and her eyes rounded. “Gavin, the oars!”
He turned, and together, they reached for the paddles. But their combined momentum caused the boat to tip too far, and they both slipped into the cold water.
Abigail held her breath. Her senses screamed as the frigid sea surrounded her. She swiped her arms through the water, but the movement of the waves pulled her body back and forth, preventing her from knowing the way to the surface. She tucked her legs in close to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, and waited until her body raised. Finally, she thrust her arms out and launched herself up toward the surface of the water.
Behind the Light of Golowduyn (A Cornish Romance Book 1) Page 20
