Chapter One
Cornwall, Summer 1813
Standing on the cliff’s edge, the ends of Sophia’s hair tossed with the wind. They were bleached golden from the many mornings she had spent with Isaac sitting in the pink sea thrift and watching the sunrise.
He paused for a moment to watch her loose curls and the white fabric of her skirts moving in the breeze on the precipice. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over her skin. Waves crashed on the rocks below, and he felt a similar impact on his heart as he imagined another day soon when Sophia would wear white.
A smile split his face, and he nearly tripped as he made the final few steps up the trail.
Sophia turned at his approach. The fading sunlight caught her blue irises, and her smile formed a set of dimples in her cheeks.
Issac had first met Sophia on a walk near his grandfather’s estate six months before. Her family had just arrived in Cornwall, her mother having recently inherited theneighboring estate from a distant relative. Sophia had never seen the sea before that day. At that point, she had still been a London girl with lace gloves and muddy half boots, hair pulled back tightly into her bonnet as she tentatively approached the cliff’s edge.
But she had stayed ten feet away.
Isaac had showed her the best place to watch the sunrise later that week, and she had dared to stand closer to the edge. He had shown her the caves, the best beaches, and the ruins of Trelowen Castle. Isaac had only been in Cornwall one year, but showing Sophia all that he had discovered while living with his grandfather had altered him irrevocably. Over the past six months, he had fallen quite madly in love with her.
“I thought I told you not to stand so close to the edge,” Isaac said as he met her on a patch of grass. This spot had become their meeting place, but today Sophia had managed to escape without her chaperone. The moment she reached him, he took both her hands. He held them like fragile things—like two birds that might fly away at any moment.
“I thought I told you to stop pestering me about it.” Her smile grew wider.
With her first London Season approaching, the trail of freckles across her nose had been a subject of contention with her mother, but Isaac loved them. Sophia liked to say that each one represented one of their days together. Isaac liked to say each one represented one of their stolen kisses. Either way, she wouldn’t need the complexion of a London girl. Not anymore.
A nervous look interrupted her smile. “Did you speak with him?”
“Speak with who?” Isaac grinned.
She gave a breathless laugh. “My father, of course.” One of her eyebrows twitched upward.
Isaac tugged her closer, catching her by the waist. She settled into his arms, still giving him that curious look.
“I cannot confirm it.”
“Isaac!” Her expression collapsed into a relenting smile. “I will die of curiosity.”
He kissed the tip of her nose before leaning his forehead to hers. He could have told her the truth but teasing her was far more enjoyable. “I’m afraid it’s a secret.”
She laughed, but he caught her lips with his before she could ask any more questions. He kissed her until the sun fell below the horizon.
Isaac had spoken with her father that afternoon—and he had given his approval for their marriage. Isaac and Sophia had both been worried about her father’s response considering the plans her parents had for her debut Season.
They knew how likely it was that Sophia could make a better match in London.
Her manners and grace were far beyond Isaac’s upbringing, but his unexpected inheritance of his grandfather’s estate had elevated him just enough to stand a chance. But despite Isaac’s shortcomings, Sophia’s father knew how in love they were. Surely he only understood a fraction of it, but it was enough.
Isaac held Sophia’s face in his hands, her skin soft under his palms. At first their love had felt fragile, like a shell that might wash away or shatter. A passing conversation, a polite nod, a walk along the cliffs. Isaac’s heart had changed so slowly, yet so drastically, and he would never be the same. He had lived twenty-two years belonging to the land and sea and the stars of the sky. But now he was Sophia’s.
He took her hand and pressed his lips to her palm as he always did before closing her fingers around it.
“A keepsake,” he said.
She smiled, holding onto it tight as she walked away. He wished she could stay longer, but her parents would wonder where she had gone.
And Isaac needed to keep their good opinion.
His heart swelled with the secret he held. But he wouldn’t—couldn’t—propose to Sophia without a ring. It wasn’t commonplace, but his grandfather had given his late wife a ring for their engagement and had encouraged Isaac to do the same. He had seen one in a local shop that he knew Sophia would love. It was simple, a thin gold band with a single pearl at the center. He would purchase it tomorrow, and then they could be engaged. Officially.
He stumbled through the dim light until he made it down to the main road and back home. His cheeks ached from smiling by the time he stepped inside the candlelit entryway of Morvoren House. His grandfather, just a few months short of his seventy-fifth birthday, dined early but retired late. Isaac often heard him wandering the corridors at night, leaving a trail of candlelight and creaking floorboards.
