“Do you still want to explore the magic forest?” he asked.
“It must beverymagical,” she said. “I do not even see a forest, only some clumps of trees.”
He winced. “You must not spoil my illusions with cold reality,” he said.
“But yes,” she said, scrambling to her feet without his assistance and brushing the creases out of her skirt. “I want to see it.”
The undergrowth on the one side of the island had always been thick and impenetrable to children, especially as it included some prickly plants. They had never been cleared out. The other side was different. Therewasundergrowth and some boggy ground, but it had been paradise when they were little. And their mother had never discouraged them despite the muddy shoes and occasionaltorn trousers and shirts and skirts they took home with them, as well as tangled hair and sweaty bodies, though they had often cleaned those at least with a vigorous swim in the lake.
Nicholas shook the grass from his coat and pulled it back on before absently grasping her hand.
“There are wild animals and monsters of all types in here,” he said, leading her into the forest. “Even a dragon or two lurking in the inlets of the lake. And there are birds of prey in the trees. The type that love nothing better than to carry off a child to their nests. And when one climbs to the higher limbs of the trees, one occasionally spots a pirate ship creeping silently between the island and the mainland, the pirates all lining the deck, waiting for their chance to jump off, their cutlasses jammed between their teeth.”
“And almost every one of them with either a black eye patch or one wooden leg, I suppose,” she said.
“Ah, you know the ship, do you?” he said.
“And the wild animals and monsters,” she said. “There are children in my family, remember. When the children from the orphanage come for a picnic, they often join in a hunt for the monsters. They encounter pirates and highwaymen too. Sometimes there is so much screaming that Papa warns that the powers that be down in Bath are probably considering sending a rescue mission and a constable to arrest him and take him to their jail in chains. But Mama always says there is plenty of food for the would-be rescuers if they come.”
He laughed and squeezed her hand. How lovely it was once in a while to become a silly child again, or at least to have fond memories of such times. She even looked the part, with her braids bobbing against her bosom with every movement.
“Oh, watch!” he said suddenly, and she teetered at the edge ofa boggy patch of ground, one foot raised, her body already in motion to move forward. He released her hand in order to wrap his arm tightly about her waist and pull her back to safety. She would have ended up with a muddy foot and perhaps a shoe hopelessly lost. “I beg your pardon. I was not watching where we were stepping, something that is always essential here.”
But he became aware of her pressed to his side, of the lithe slenderness of her body that he found curiously attractive. He looked into her face as awareness came into it too. Despite the braids, her hair was brushed back over her head with no attempt to disguise the broadness of her forehead. Her face was quite unremarkable, though all her features were in the right place. He tried to remember that she was plain and largely shapeless, but it was too late for that. He saw nothing but beauty and that elusiverealwoman for whom he had searched, though he had never known how he would recognize her when he saw her.
He recognized her now.
Too late, he thought, even as she licked her lips in an unconsciously provocative gesture, and he closed the gap between their mouths and kissed her.
She kissed him back, as he might have expected of her if he had been thinking at all. There was nothing missish or coquettish about Winifred Cunningham.
But even as he turned her in his arms to draw her against the full length of his body, they came to their senses. Simultaneously. He took a step back, careful that she did not do the same and land in the bog after all. But they did not stop gazing at each other.
“Win,” he said, and swallowed. “That was not intended. Please believe me. And it will not be repeated.”
“No,” she said. “It was part of the magic.”
“Which am I?” he asked. “A wild beast, a bird of prey, or a pirate?”
“Oh,” she said. “You are Nicholas.”
And with that, he fell in love with her.
A thought to be severely curbed as soon as they got out of this so-called forest. It could not be true, and if it was, itwouldnot be true. There were too many insurmountable obstacles to make his loving Winifred Cunningham a possibility, not least the age gap between them. Good God, he was possibly no more than a year or two younger than hermother.
“It was merely part of the magic, part of the make-believe,” she said. “We will put it behind us. I would like to return to the house now, please. I have left Andrew alone for too long.”
Ever practical. No sign of hysteria or helpless weeping. Or recriminations. Or embarrassment. He guessed all those would be kept strictly to herself.
He led the way back to the boat without touching her.
Chapter Thirteen
There was a burst of general conversation at the start of dinner that evening as they all shared accounts of their varied activities. Winifred hoped she would be able to go unnoticed provided she ate her food and looked interested in what others were saying. It wasnoteasy, though, and that was the understatement of the decade.
And it was the very evening when Owen had come to sit beside her, beaming and happy to see her again and have the chance to talk with her. Clarence Ware, his cousin, had gone home.
“Did you have a successful archery practice, Owen?” Mama asked him.
