When they approached the narrow track along the bluff, Laura was already regretting her quick temper.Herhusband’s business affairs were not her concern, although he might have humored her. She faced the fear that although he clearly desired her, he wasn’t in love with her. It was foolish to expect so much so soon. She grew angry with herself for being vulnerable to every perceived slight.
***
Roe’s news had rocked him, and Nathaniel struggled to push it from his mind. Having secured the horses to the rail beside the water trough, he held out his hand to Laura, hoping she’d recovered her good nature. He could tell by the lift of her chin that Laura hadn’t completely forgiven him. She was young and expected a great deal from life. He’d been aware of this when he’d married her. Inthefuture, he would conduct his business alone. He’d wanted her company and to have her under his eye. But he refused to burden her with his problems. There were things of which he couldn’t speak, wounds so deep that he would be afraid to voice them. They needed time. Unfortunately, they didn’t have it. A trip to London could not be avoided. Legislation was to be introduced into parliament which would affectWolfram.
Laura needed a friend, but there were good reasons why she and Cilla might not get on. Once again, the fear that he’d made a serious mistake bringing her here caused his shoulder muscles to knot. He shrugged, trying to ease them,and took herarm.
***
A muscle ticked beside Nathaniel’s jaw.Laurawould attempt to clear the air between them once they were alone. A garden path led to the small stone cottage. Red geranium spilled from window boxes,the front door painted a bright yellow.She took a deep breath and plastered on a smile as he knocked on the door. There was no sound fromwithin.
“It appears Cilla is not at home,” he said after amoment.
As they retraced their steps to the gate, a woman appeared in the lane riding a bicycle.
“Nathaniel! How nice.” Miss Gain jumped down from her bike. “I went to buy sugar from the village shop.” She grimaced. “I expected to be back in a trice, but I ran into Mrs. Hartwell and she does talk so.”
Nathaniel took the bike from her. “Cilla, I’ve brought my bride to meet you. This is Laura.”
Laura studied the woman as she came through the gate. Cilla was attractive. A tall brunette close to Nathaniel’s age. Laura noted her very modern divided navy skirt which ended at calf level with a twinge ofenvy.
“How lovely to meet you at last, Laura.”
“I’ve been keen to meet you, Cilla, ever since Nathaniel told me you were an artist.” Laura shook her hand, her gaze falling on the man’s tie Cilla wore around her neck. She brightened. Might this woman be interested in women’ssuffrage?
Cilla’s amused hazel eyes met hers. “Please do come inside.”
They entered the tiny front hall. “Come through to the back garden. I find it the best place for tea. One cannot be indoors on such a day.”
The cottage was filled with light and bursting with odd things. Sculpted pieces, some finished and some not, sat amongst rocks, feathers, driftwood, books and dried flowers. Bunches of fresh flowers were shoved into vases without a care to their arrangement and placed wherever a spare space offered itself. Hook rugs covered the bare boards. An embroidered, fringed shawl hung over the back of the crimson sofa with cushions of all shapes and sizes thrown on it willy-nilly. Bright, thickly painted canvases in the loose and bold style of the French Impressionists covered the walls. Sheer white curtains stirred in the sea breeze at the openwindows.
The acrid smells of oil paint and varnish fought with the floral scents. A canvas hidden beneath a cloth perched on an easel in a small dining room off the parlor. She’d made this her studio, where all the paraphernalia of the artist—a palette, half-squeezed tubes of paint and jars filled with brushes—were piled onto atable.
Nathaniel led Laura outside to a leafy, vine-covered loggia, where they sat in wicker chairs. Here they could look directly out to sea, the cliff only yards away. The sea breeze toyed with Laura’s hat again, and she eased the net away from herface.
Nathaniel placed a hand on her arm and leaned toward her. “Laura…”
Cilla bustled out of the doorway carrying a tray. She unloaded tea things onto the wicker table and disappearedagain.
“Yes, Nathaniel?” Laura searched hisface.
He frowned and shook his head. “I can see you’re not happy. But now is not the time to talk.”
Laura forgot her plan to appease him. “I’m glad you acknowledge that we do need to talk.”
Cilla reappeared with a cake plate, which Laura now recognized to be Cornish heavycake.
“I didn’t make the cake,” Cilla said. “Mrs. Hartwell did, and she’s a splendid cook. Eat up.” She pulled off her shabby straw bonnet and threw it on the ground, placing her chair leg on the brim to stop it blowing away. “I’ll be mother, shall I?” Cilla picked up the brown teapot and proceeded to pour the tea. “You look very well, Nathaniel.” She glanced at Laura with a smile. “It’s been an age since I’ve enjoyed decent company. And Nathaniel told me you attended university.” Her eyes widened. “I’ve never met a woman who has done such a thing.”
“I was fortunate to be able to sit in on lectures,” Laura said. “I didn’t write papers or take exams.”
“Still…” Cilla shrugged. “I would love to hear more about it.”
Nathaniel winked at Laura and nodded, as if to say this was what he hoped would happen. They’d been discussing her, apparently. “And I look forward to learning more about art.”
Cilla appeared to be a fish out of water here. She was obviously very talented, but who else would share Cilla’s interests? At least Aunt Dora, who devoted her time to writing poetry, mixed with other writers in London.
Nathaniel looked very much at home here, leaning back in his chair, sipping his tea. How often did he visit? A shaft of jealousy coiled inside her. Had he confessed the secrets he held so tightly in his heart to Cilla? An even more unattractive situation occurred to Laura. Had they once been lovers? Such a thought was unworthy of her. What was the matter withher?
