Until now, Heather thought she had been invisible to him. “Dangerous for me? Why?”
“Because you are drawn to them and the song they sing.”
“That is true,” she said with a nod, “but isn’t everyone?”
“No. Most people have a healthy fear and avoid them. Nor would most people hear their song even if they were standing where you are to watch the tide come in.” He drew her further back from the edge when she attempted to take another step forward. “This is not the first time I’ve noticed you here. Can you not see, Miss Alwyn? The Singing Caves have too strong a pull on you. Keep away from them. I have no desire to find your lifeless body on those rocks when the tide rolls out.”
“Are you saying this to frighten me? Is this how you amuse yourself in your idle hours? By scaring young ladies?”
“I never jest about those caves.” His voice was deep and resonant, reminiscent of the rumble of thunder on an approaching storm.
“Am I forbidden to walk along the beach, too?” She brushed back several strands of her hair that had escaped their braid and now whipped in her face because of the gusting wind. She did not mind, for the breeze was warm as it struck her cheeks. There was a dampness to it, too. The air was never dry around here because they were so close to the water. “Or is there harm in my taking a simple walk? I would like to understand your rules so I do not give further offense.”
His nicely formed lips twitched upward at the corners. “You have a mouth on you, don’t you?”
She winced. “I don’t mean to.”
“Yes, you do.” He now allowed a full smile as he held out his hand. “Come back to the house with me, Miss Alwyn.”
She stared at the masculine hand.
“Come.” He reached over and took hers, interlacing their fingers in a surprisingly intimate fashion as he turned toward his grand manor. “Lass, do you know whatAlwynmeans among the faerie folk?”
“No.” She looked up at him, wondering why he was holding her hand or even talking to her.
“In Celtic it means friend of elves.Blessedfriend of elves. This is what you looked like standing by the cliff with the wind whipping at your gown—a delicate sprite about to fly away.”
Her laughter caught on the breeze and echoed around them. “I was in no danger of it. All I meant to do was walk down to the beach. What is so wrong with that? Sorry, that last remark sounded petulant even to my own ears.”
“I can see you are not happy with my warning, Miss Alwyn. Do you believe I issued it merely to be petty and tyrannical?”
She did not deny it.
This was her only time off, and she did not wish to spend it indoors, even though MacArran Grange was a beautiful house. The cliffs and beaches in this part of Cornwall were also beautiful, and somehow familiar, although she could not recall ever being here before. She wanted to explore as much of the area as she could before the house party ended and she had to return to dismal London with the equally dismal Lady Audley.
He sensed her reluctance. “You have no wish to go back inside?”
“No, Your Grace. Please understand, Wednesday afternoons are the only time I have to myself. I would rather spend the hours exploring, especially on such a perfect day.”
He glanced toward the sky.
Heather sighed, wishing he could appreciate the beauty of this gloaming hour and the magical hues to be seen as the sun began to set. Delicate lavenders and pinks mixed in with fiery oranges that stole one’s breath away.
The sky was almost cloudless today, save for a few wispy tendrils of white floating by on the August breeze. Goshawks and gulls flew over the azure waters of MacArran Cove in search of fish swimming beneath its crystal surface.
He fixed his gaze on the distant waves, appearing to study their rise and fall as the wind swept them to shore. “My other guests will be taking tea on the terrace by now.”
“Other? Do you consider me a guest? I am no more than your aunt’s companion.”
He shrugged his broad shoulders, his gaze still on the cove. “You are a cut above a mere companion, I would say. Anyone who can tolerate my aunt as long as you have done has earned my respect.”
“Oh dear.” Heather was unable to hold back a light laugh. “Is she considered that much of an ogre?”
“You know she is. I’m told you have been with her almost a year now. It is about six months longer than anyone else has lasted. I marvel at your fortitude.”
She blushed at the compliment, but did not pass comment.
It was not fortitude so much as desperation. His aunt was an unpleasant woman, but Heather’s position as her companion was a precious salvation, and she dared not say or do anything to put it at risk.
