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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Morvoren woke to a quiet house. With a yawn and a stretch of her arms, she sat upright, glancing to the window where the sun still blazed above. She must have only slept for an hour or two, which was all she’d needed. Besides, she didn’t wish to waste any more time.

Rolling out of her cot, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, loaded her portmanteau with a change of underclothing, donned her boots and shawl, then stepped out of the room with haste. She had great plans to accomplish that afternoon and very little time to do them.

With Mrs. Honeysett and Poppy still at Golowduyn and Trevik…She paused. All other thoughts scattered from her mind like a flock of warblers fleeing from an impending wave.

Where was Trevik? Working? At the cellars? On the ship? Or…was he sleeping in the room down the corridor?

Slowly, her eyes traveled the short distance to where his bedchamber was situated, the door securely closed. Was he finally taking some much-needed respite? Or would he arise as swiftly as Morvoren had?

The thought of facing him without Mrs. Honeysett or Poppy to take the edge of discomfort off was enough to pour common sense back into Morvoren’s mind. She swiftly closed the door to her and Poppy’s chamber, then escaped the house as quickly as she could manage.

Once outside, she drew a steadying breath. With no home she could stay within, no more work to complete, no friends to visit, and the Honeysetts occupied, there was only one thing left she could do.

Her eyes made their way to the sea, and a smile spread across her lips.

Without missing a beat, she set off north across the cliffside, taking the pathway that curved round the back of Tristwick, hoping to avoid any fishermen—or Cardys—on her way.

She would have loved to swim in Tristwick’s waters again, but she’d been told by Poppy that a more secluded option lay to the north of the cove. Tregalwen was littered with great boulders and sea stacks at low tide that provided a great deal of privacy, and, according to Poppy, many of the fishermen and their families didn’t bother with that beach when they had Tristwick to occupy instead.

With a skip in her step she hadn’t known existed, Morvoren picked up her pace as much as her limp allowed. She enjoyed spending time with the Honeysetts, more so than any other family she’d ever known, but she was not used to such constant companionship.

A bit of privacy on Tregalwen Beach and a warm afternoon swim would be just the thing to buoy her spirits before she set about her next plan—making dinner for the Honeysetts before they returned from Golowduyn. After all, they deserved respite as much as Trevik did.

As she continued on the pathway, Morvoren fought the urge to check the cliffsides around her, pushing away any niggling fears of being spotted by Uncle or the seiner she’d seen that morning. The more time she spent in peace in the secluded cove, the more she realized that Uncle would have no reason to search for her in such an isolated place as a fishing hamlet. Besides, being down on the beach, she’d merely be a distant dot to any passerby who chanced to spot her.

With the blaring sun behind her, she lowered her paisley shawl until it hung between her arms, drooping low behind her back. The end of September very rarely brought warm days such as this, and October would hold them fewer and farther between, so she was grateful to be taking advantage of such warmth.

A few moments later, she finally took the pathway that veered toward Tregalwen. The moment she reached the sand, she plopped down and removed her boots and stockings, tucking them securely in her portmanteau before progressing across the vast beach.

Tregalwen was nearly four times as large as Tristwick, with its white sands and towering sea stacks. And fortunately, Poppy had been right—there wasn’t a single person in sight.

With the warm sand pressed between her toes and the cool sea air caressing her face, Morvoren finally reached the shoreline, water sliding toward her in a lazy lap before slinking straight back to the sea. A large pillar of light shone down the center of the waves, reflecting the sun’s blaze in a perfect white that gradually shifted to a vibrant turquoise. Each glimmering reflection called to Morvoren, beckoning her closer.

Come, sea-maid, the waves gently roared. Do not leave me again.

And she wouldn’t.

With her eyes still trained on the waves, Morvoren headed straight for the large sea stack at the south of the beach, knowing the mound would allow her the most privacy. When she reached it, the cliffside no longer in view, she placed her portmanteau on a lowered section of the rock, admiring the blue and black mussels secured to the drying stone as she removed her shawl first. Then something dark behind the mollusks caught her eye.

She tipped her head, leaning closer to peer between a thick crevice in the rock. Shirtsleeves, boots, and other articles of clothing were shoved inside, and her heart dropped. Whose clothing was this?

Morvoren swiveled, ready to flee, but when she turned to the sea, her breath caught in her throat as a man rose up from the waves directly before her.

Trevik. Of course it would be Trevik.

At least she hadn’t begun to undress yet. But had she known he was out here, she never would have left the house. She cursed her lack of vigilance. How had she not seen him before? He must have been below the water or just above its surface for her not to have noticed him until then.

Now, however, she couldn’t look anywhere else.

He moved forward from the midst of the sea, only forty or fifty feet away as he strode through the low, rushing waves that raced him to the shoreline. He wore only his soaked-through trousers, light glimmering across every inch of his bare, wet torso, shoulders, and face. His hair hung in dripping strands, and his gaze was low to avoid the glare of the sun.

So he hadn’t seen her yet. She snatched her portmanteau from the rock and took a step away, determined to leave before he spotted her. Perhaps she would hide behind the sea stack until he left.

Unless, of course, he changed nearby from his wet trousers into his dry ones.

She swallowed. She certainly couldn’t be around for that. Better to just leave the beach entirely, even if he saw her departing.