‘Listen,’ she urged, as he was about to take a bite.
He lowered the sandwich and did as he was told.
He could hear the wind, a gentle breeze playing about his ears, but he could also hear faint peeping sounds, and realised they were coming from the seabirds patrolling the shore now that the humans (in other words, he and Giselle) had left them in peace. The sound of the waves carried on the wind, and he was surprised at how still the sea was, the wispy clouds above reflected on its mirrored surface. A short distance offshore lay a low island, a ribbon of land sheltering the beach, and movement caught his eye, grey shapes on the darker rocks.
‘What are those?’
‘Seals.’
Awed, he turned to look at her. ‘Wow.’
‘They haul out onto the rocks to rest and sun themselves. When the tide is really low, you can wade across to the island. I wouldn’t recommend staying long, though, as you don’t want to get stranded.’
‘Couldn’t you swim back?’
‘Best not. The currents can be unpredictable in the channel.’
‘It really is wild,’ he marvelled. ‘And so beautiful.’ Suddenly he was glad he’d come to Skye, and hadn’t simply instructed Jermyns to sell the castle, sight unseen. He’d have missed out on all this beauty.
He would have missed out on seeingGiselle. As the thought slipped into his mind, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and faltered.
Once again something stirred inside him, but this time he couldn’t put a name to it. All he knew was that he wasn’t ready to leave Skye just yet.
Chapter 10
Giselle rose to her feet and dusted off the seat of her shorts, feeling self-conscious. She rarely wore them because her pale skin burnt easily despite copious amounts of sun cream, but it was early, and she’d had a hunch that the day might be warm. Maybe she’d envisioned a bit of a paddle, too – after removing her socks and boots, obviously. But now that she was here, suggesting a paddle would have made this walk feel too much like a date, which it most definitely wasn’t, so she hadn’t.
By the time they’d got to the top of the hill, she wished she’d taken the plunge. Hot and bothered, and very aware that Rocco, who had been scrambling up behind her, was getting an eyeful of her white legs, she had been glad to collapse onto the grass. At least the climb had been worth it. Rocco, mesmerised by the view, hadn’t been able to take his eyes off it.
Skye was on her best behaviour today, parading herself in all her glorious beauty – emerald grass, turquoise water, azure sky, white fluffy clouds, dark glistening rocks and the iridescent beach, all of it bathed in brilliant early morning sunshine. And not to mention the wildlife: sea birds, geese flying overhead and the fat sausage shapes of the grey seals. All that was needed was a pod of dolphins or orcas to complete the scene.
‘I’d read that Skye is beautiful, but I didn’t realise just how beautiful,’ Rocco murmured. He was sitting with his forearms resting on his knees, his eyes on the horizon. ‘I can see why you love it so much.’
‘I don’t want to live anywhere else,’ she replied simply.
‘How about Venice? I recall you were quite taken with the city.’
The city wasn’t all she’d been taken with. Heat infused her cheeks, but her voice was calm as she said, ‘Nice to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there.’
‘Not even for the sea glass?’
‘Actually, there isn’t much to be found in Venice. You were lucky.’
She caught his sideways look as he replied, ‘I certainly was.’
Determined not to show how discomforted she felt, she said, ‘It’s unusual to find sea glass on the island. Most furnaces don’t discard their waste glass; they reuse it. And there aren’t exactly loads of beaches, apart from Lido, but I think those are man-made. We just happened to be at the lighthouse at low tide that day.’
‘I didn’t think Venice was tidal, or the Med as a whole, for that matter.’
‘I believe there’s a fluctuation in sea level in Venice itself of around a metre, but it doesn’t happen often. When it does, it exposes that rocky area by the lighthouse.’
He grinned at her. ‘We were fortunate, then.’
‘Very.’ More fortunate than he could imagine, since Rocco finding the sea glass had set her on the path to Duncoorie, the castle and its craft centre.
A wave of sadness washed over her as she thought of Mhairi. She really was going to miss the grand old lady, and not just because there was a real possibility that her life was about to change as a result of her passing.
‘It’s time we made a move,’ she declared. ‘I’ve got a studio to open.’
