Mina grimaced. “In truth, you did not miss much,” she assured her. “But that reminds me, I have your lace scarf,” she said, turning to Effie. “Which you were kind enough to lend me for a veil.”
“Oh no!” said Effie, looking shocked. “You’re not to return that. That’s to be kept in your top drawer along with your lucky silver sixpence and your dried blue bouquet.”
Mina started, remembering how she had pitched the delphiniums over a stone wall on her lonely march back to the inn. “That’s very kind of you,” she said, “But you see—”
“Wouldn’t hear of taking it back,” Effie said staunchly. “You can lend me something borrowed if I ever get Jeb up that aisle.”
“Very well, I will treasure it,” Mina said awkwardly. “I don’t precisely know what I did with the silver sixpence in truth and I’m afraid I threw away the flowers in a fit of temper. I wanted to strangle Nye at the time,” she admitted as Dot gave a gust of delighted laughter.
“You’re a dark horse and no mistake,” she said appreciatively. “When you asked that snooty piece of goods if she was comparing herself to a cow! I hardly knew where to look!”
Effie joined with a peal of mirth. “She didn’t know where to put herself!” Effie gasped, wiping her eyes. “I wouldn’t have missed that, not for a month of Sundays! Told you she was a rare ‘un,” she said to Dot.
“She’s certainly not in the usual style,” Dot agreed, though Mina was not sure this was precisely a compliment.
“I think the lads were disappointed to find that pretty Ivy up and gone,” Dot commented when their laughter subsided. “Whatever happened to her? Nye seemed to have no clue.” She shot a keen look at Mina. “If I’m not mistaken, you’ll know more about the matter, than he.” She tapped her nose. “Women always do.”
“A man, like as not,” Effie chimed in. “I hope the poor little devil found a better one than the last she hitched her cart to.”
Mina set her knife and fork down. “She did,” she said. “A widower with two small children, who wanted to marry her and set up house.”
“Well, I never!” Effie whistled.
“Good for her,” said Dot. “I only hope it may work out for her.”
“She seemed realistic about the life he offered,” Mina said, pouring another cup of tea. “And was entering into it with her eyes open.”
“Can’t ask for much more than that,” Dot opined, pulling a face. Effie agreed with a sad sigh. They passed the rest of their meal amicably and from the rumbling of wheels and the clip-clop of hooves in the courtyard outside Mina observed that people were already starting to drift away after last night’s excitement.
By lunchtime, most of the overnight guests had cleared out. They served what was left of the pasties cold to any that were desirous of lunchtime refreshment and to her surprise, Nye summoned her to the door to wave goodbye when the Nat, Dot, Clem, Jeb, and Effie departed in two coachloads. She hurried to his side and he wrapped an arm about her waist. A cart drew out behind them carrying the Toomes brothers and their disreputable toothless old mother, Ma Toomes.
“Where is their third brother at present?” Mina asked as they waved them off.
“Exeter jail,” Nye answered absently. “Why?”
“Tis of no matter,” she hastened to assure him.
19
The rest of the day passed in a blur of bed stripping and laundry. She and Edna pegged three lots out to dry on the line in the sunshine. Mina walked to the edge of the drive and shielded her eyes against the sun to gaze into the distance. It was a clear day and she could see the sea which looked a sparkling turquoise next to the gray granite and green headland. It was so beautiful she could almost believe it an illustrated plate from a storybook.
“You’d best not be thinking about flight again,” a voice rumbled behind her and Mina swung around to shoot a reproachful look at Nye who was stood watching her, hands on his hips.
“I keep thinking I should incorporate a walk along the beach to my day,” she admitted. “Perhaps before breakfast. I imagine it would be a wonderful start to the day.”
“Depends what the weather’s up to,” he retorted. “On a day like this when all’s calm it would be well enough. But the Atlantic Ocean in a storm is none too pretty.”
“I expect it’s still a sight to behold,” she argued. “And if it was too choppy then I should not venture down from the cliffs.”
He frowned. “I wouldn’t want you walking those cliffs on your own. It’s a lonely spot and you’re not familiar with the terrain. Then there’s the tides,” he added. “You can easily get trapped when it comes in fast.”
“Well, you could always come with me,” she pointed out, turning on her heel and walking back up the path. “If you’re that worried.”
When she drew level to him, he reached out and caught her wrist, drawing her toward him.
“Evening is better,” he said. “Come, take off your apron and we’ll go now.”
“Now?” She felt a spurt of excitement.
He nodded. “It’s after six.”
“You’re free now?”
“For an hour,” he agreed. “Before the drinkers start pitching up.”
She struggled with her apron strings before he could change his mind. Something about her haste seemed to amuse him, for he laughed and span her round to help.
“I can take it in—” she objected, but it was too late for he had balled it up and cast it over the wall.
“We’ll collect it on the way back,” he said, taking a firm hold of her hand.
“I do not have my bonnet,” Mina murmured, though she did not think she would miss it so very much.
The wind whipped Mina’s hair about her face as they approached the cliffs. In the yard, the sun had felt warm, but the breeze was stiffer the closer they came to the sea and Mina almost wished for her cloak. Once they started down the cliff path however, the rocks sheltered them, and she soon started to warm up again. Nye went before her and she was glad to put a steadying hand to his shoulder for parts of the path were very steep and not easy to negotiate.
They paused at the halfway point and Mina caught her breath when she beheld the blue waters, dazzling against the pale sands in the cove beach.
“I think this must be the most beautiful place I have ever been,” she murmured. Nye stood silent beside her gazing out, but she felt it was a companionable silence and groped for his hand again. He took hers in his own and squeezed it.
“The private beach with Vance House,” he said. “Has a prettier view than this.”
“I can’t imagine one prettier.”
He shook his head. “You’ll see.”
“We should have bought a picnic,” Mina mused.
“Next time,” said Nye and Mina felt herself warm again, from the inside out this time. It took them a further ten minutes to reach the bottom and she was glad to walk along the flat beach for the balls of her feet ached from their climb down. Heeled ankle boots were not the most suitable for cliff walking, and privately she acknowledged that navigating the path by herself would not have been sensible.
Glancing back at the crescent shape of the cliffs behind her, she could readily imagine that you could easily get caught out by the tide and would face a desperate climb to escape it coming in. She shuddered and Nye passed his arm about her waist.
“Cold?”
“No, just thinking,” she said, her answer almost drowned out by the screech of the gulls.
“We can walk right the way around to the village at low tide,” Nye told her, pointing into the distance.
“It is low tide now?”
He nodded. “We could walk back up through the village, though it’s a steady climb.”
“I’m familiar with it,” Mina reminded him. “I walk it every Sunday for church.”
He nodded. “So, you do.”
The decision made to walk along the shore into the village, they picked up their pace. Mina gazed out to sea at the boats s
he could see bobbing in the water.
“What would they be fishing for?” she asked.
“Pilchards likely as not.” She pulled a face. “You have no liking for the humble pilchard?”
“It is not my favorite,” she admitted. “I do not think I’ve had them above twice in my life.”
“You’ve had it more than that since you’ve lived here,” he said. “In Edna’s fish stew. We keep a barrelful in salt in the pantry.”
Mina shrugged. “Edna’s fish stew is tolerable but not a dish I’d choose to eat.”
He grinned. “Maybe I should tell her to bake you a Stargazy pie.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ve not heard of a Cornish Stargazy pie?”
“You’re teasing me,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him.
He shook his head. “I cannot believe you’ve not heard tell of it. It’s baked pilchards with egg and potato in a pastry pie.”
“It sounds foul,” Mina said, frankly.
“It’s a local delicacy,” he corrected her.
“Why is it called Stargazy?”
“Ah, because the pilchards heads are arranged to peer up through the pie crust towards the stars.”
Mina halted and stared at him. “How macabre!”
“It’s a sight to behold.”
“I believe I’ll pass up the Stargazy pie.”
He laughed, tugging her hand to get her to moving again. “Don’t let any locals hear you say so.”
“By the by,” Mina told him as they neared the walkway up to the village. “Jeremy said he might be able to help us to some staff for the inn,” she said, pushing the hair away from her brow. She did not think her low bun was fully intact by this point as most of her brown hair seemed to be steaming along in the sea breeze.
“How’s that?” asked Nye skeptically.
“By all accounts, they have a high turnround of staff at Vance Park. Jeremy said just recently a local girl was given her marching orders and they have an ex footman who might be induced to work behind the bar.”
“Is that right?”
“You sound doubtful.”
“Let’s just say, I’ll believe it when I see it.”
She shook her head but did not argue as they made their way up the beach. She had expected him to drop her hand as soon as they stepped off the beach and onto the track that led to the road, but he pulled her arm through his instead. Several fishermen were sat on barrels with lobster pots and Nye nodded as they gazed at them with open curiosity, their pipes bobbing in their mouths as they wished them a good evening.
“Do any of the fishermen frequent The Merry Harlot?” Mina asked. Nye shook his head. “I seem to remember Edna told me they frequent The Ship instead.”
Nye nodded in the direction of a black and white inn on the seafront. “That’s it there.”
Mina looked at the rather shabby little whitewashed inn. “It’s not as grand as The Harlot,” she said critically. “It’s a shame we cannot poach some of their staff.”
He smiled at that and Mina eyed him curiously, thinking she had never seen him so agreeable. “Your knuckles look split and sore,” she observed. “Do they still hurt?”
He gave a small shake of his head. “Nothing to signify.” They were climbing the bank now up away from the village.
“You cannot have had long to recover this time between your fights this time,” she observed. “When we get back, I will bathe your cut eye in saltwater.”
He grunted. “Don’t fuss. I’m used to taking care of such things.” Then he shook his head.
“What?”
He looked rueful. “You did not even ask me who won my match.”
With surprise, Mina realized this was true. “I suppose I took it for granted that you did,” she admitted with some embarrassment.
Nye laughed at that. “Touching you have that much faith in me.” Catching her suddenly troubled expression, he asked, “What is it?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she replied evasively. “Just something Lady Faris said.”
Nye eyed her warily. “Oh yes?” he prompted. “And what was that?”
Mina hesitated, for the confidence she had felt only that morning when repudiating Lady Faris’s claims had faded, since she had noticed a loophole. “She seemed to think I must have very lax views about marriage,” she answered.
“Why?” he asked pointedly.
“Because she could not believe that you would tolerate anything else in a wife.”
He came to an abrupt halt in the road, pulling Mina to a stop also. “I thought we had already cleared this up this morning.”
“You said you were not interested in any married women save for your own,” Mina reiterated.
“So where does the confusion lie?”
She gazed over his shoulder. “You did not mention unmarried women.”
He gave a startled laugh. “Are you serious, Mina?” he asked, pulling her into his arms. He rested his chin on the top of her head. “You need have no worries on that score.”
“Are you sure?” she blurted, staring at the tanned skin that showed between his collarless shirt and necktie. “I saw how those women clamored around the fighters this past two days.”
“Aye, but did you see me paying any heed to them?” he answered lightly.
“I did not see much of you at all,” she mumbled.
One hand removed from her waist to tilt up her chin. “You do not need to trouble yourself about any women, wed or unwed,” he reiterated, his gaze capturing hers. “And my own marital views are far from lax. You might have noticed when I bawled everyone out in the bar, staking my claim? If you did not, then everyone else was sure to mark it, I promise you.”
Mina’s face reddened. “Well, yes,” she agreed evasively. “But sometimes gentlemen expect fidelity from their wives without the expectation of reciprocating.”
“Not me,” he retorted promptly.
Her eyes sought his and whatever she saw in his dark gaze reassured her. She gave a short nod. “Very well then,” she said. “Thank you for the clarification.” She went to pull away, but his grip on her did not slacken. “Nye?” she said consciously. “We are standing in a common highway.”
“Aye, so we are wife and not one more step will we stir until you give me the kiss I want.”
“Nye!” She felt herself become flustered in an instant. “We are not some… courting couple!”
He looked amused. “Nay, for we skipped that stage,” he agreed. “So, let us make amends for that now.” He cocked his head to one side, looking suddenly thoughtful. “We’ll walk out together like we did tonight and keep company of an evening at least twice a week.”
“Keep company?” she echoed, trying to imagine Nye sat in the parlor with her in his fancy suit of an evening. Even twice a week that was some feat of imagination. What was she supposed to do with him? She could not imagine having him sitting with a book of poetry like her father had used to do or helping her to wind her yarn. “You’d need someone else to cover the taproom,” she pointed out uncertainly.
“Well, according to you, Faris has that matter well in hand,” he reminded her glibly.
She spluttered. “You, however, seemed to place little confidence in his abilities,” she reminded him.
“The longer you stall giving me those pretty lips, the longer we’ll be stood in the middle of the road, at the mercy of passing carts,” Nye pointed out.
Realizing he was not going to let her off the hook with this, Mina took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut, tipping her face up to receive his kiss. He did not immediately take her up on her invitation and for a moment indeed, she thought he would not.
She was just starting to feel foolish when his lips descended on hers, in a kiss such as Will Nye had never bestowed on her before. His lips were soft yet firm against her own, and infinitely sweet as he molded them to her own. After a moment, she felt his hands cup her face almost tenderly and run his thumbs along her cheekbon
es in what she could only consider to be a caress.
Never in her wildest dreams would she have dreamt that Will Nye would ever touch her thus. When he lifted his face away from hers, he looked almost as surprised by it as she. He stared at her a moment before taking her hand again. “That was the kiss I should have given you atop the carriage that time,” he rasped.
“The carriage?” Mina faltered, feeling her wits had gone a-begging.
“The first time,” he replied abruptly.
Mina remembered the suffocating embrace that had been her first and almost agreed. But if he had kissed her like this back then, she was not sure how she might have reacted. It would have been far too intimate. This kiss, she realized dazedly, was a courting kiss. It was a kiss given to sweethearts.
She traced the part of her lips and reddened. When Nye turned a heated look her way, she could not quite meet his eye. “Have you ever been courting before?” She heard herself ask and wished she had not.
“Courting?” He shook his head.
“You seem rather good at it,” she said, casting him a sidelong look. “As though you might have had some practice.”
“You’re not so bad yourself, love,” he answered with a wink.
“You’ve never had a sweetheart?” she persisted recklessly; her color heightened.
Again, he shook his head. “Don’t forget, I went to Exeter at nineteen. I had no time for walks on the beach or making up to the local lasses.”
Mina narrowed her eyes. “Maybe not, but I expect there were lots of women in Exeter,” she said darkly.
“None that would have expected me to court them,” he answered, frankly. Mina pursed her lips, then decided it was better to focus on the future and not the past. “What of you?” he asked in a low voice. “Did your father never hire a young schoolmaster that caught your fancy?”
Mina turned her head sharply at the odd tone in his voice. Now it was his turn to color slightly and avoid her gaze. “Nay,” he said roughly. “Don’t tell me, for I’ve changed my mind. It would be better not to know.”
A Bride for the Prizefighter: A Victorian Romance Page 28
