Always Believe in Love (Emerson Book 4) Page 6

  “I am here to help the lads unload their boats.”

  That surprised her. “You? Helping them? Are you in need of coin?”

  “No. I had a few pints with them last night and I asked a few questions about their lives. Then it was agreed that if I really wanted a good look, I should come down here and see for myself.”

  Her eyes narrowed. This definitely wasn’t flirtation. “And who actually made that suggestion?” she asked. “The one about helping them out?”

  That was a very good question. Nick had been wondering himself how it all had come about. He couldn’t remember suggesting it, but there were a good many things he couldn’t remember about the previous night. “Does it matter?”

  She shrugged. “You just don’t seem the type.”

  “The type for what?”

  “Hard work.”

  That took him aback. It was, of course, true. But very few peers were the type. And it’s not like he never worked hard. He’d been known to help out his farmers during the harvest or while doing repairs on their homes, though his assistance had been sporadic, rather than something he did on an ongoing basis. So, she was technically correct in her assertion, but it still rankled.

  “I think you’ll find, Miss Winston, that I am more adept at hard work than you believe. A fact which shall soon be in evidence.” He saw with some dread that the boats were almost to shore. They were riding low in the water in testament to their heavy loads.

  “Why have you come, Mr. Chilcott? And please do not spin another Banbury tale about your curiosity about the sea. If you’ve come to do harm to this village, I would ask you to take yourself off immediately.”

  “You’re asking me to leave the village?”

  Now she was looking at the incoming boats.

  “I believe that would be best for everyone.” She looked like she was some combination of angry and worried.

  “Miss Winston,” he said quietly. “I do not mean harm to anyone here. Yes, I have come to get answers, but not about the sea. About my family.”

  She looked genuinely surprised. “Your family? I am not familiar with anyone named Chilcott in the area, sir. Not now or in the past.”

  “It is a complicated situation and a delicate one. I would like the chance to speak with you about it, if you’ll allow me. Preferably, in private.” He wasn’t certain why he’d chosen to trust her. Perhaps it was because she dressed like a governess. Or mayhap it was because it simply felt right to do so.

  Apparently, it didn’t feel right to Miss Winston because she looked at him warily for a moment, before finally nodding. “Very well, sir. I am not certain where we should meet. Mr. Bramwell is likely to interrupt us if you visit the archives. And, of course, it’d be most improper for you to come to my cottage.”

  “Of course.” Though now that the subject had been raised, Nick suddenly wished to see where she lived.

  “And I certainly cannot go to the inn. I will come up with a plan, but now you’d best go greet the fishermen or your followers will be most disappointed.”

  “My what?”

  Miss Winston pointed to a group of ladies who’d gathered to watch the men offload the day’s catch. But there looked to be three times the number who’d been there the previous day. They hadn’t really come to see him, had they? Then he noticed Miss Lily Johnson approach, once again dressed not nearly warmly enough. Miss Winston would never make that mistake. He had a feeling Miss Winston had enough layers in her wardrobe to survive a trip to Scotland in winter. Mayhap he should drop by her cottage to find out for certain.

  “Good day, Mr. Chilcott,” said Lily, as she dropped into yet another revealing curtsey. “How do you like the view, today?”

  Before Nick had the chance to either respond or flee, Miss Winston spoke up. “Mr. Chilcott, you are needed at the boats. Those fish shan’t unload themselves.”

  As Nick looked at Miss Winston with gratitude, Lily looked like she wanted to shove a fish down Miss Winston’s throat. Nick simply bowed to both ladies, then made his way across the beach to where the first boats were being hauled ashore.

  Old Archer waved at him, even as he helped pull a fully loaded rowboat out of the water with one hand. The man had to be nearing sixty years of age. If he could do that after a day of working on the sea, then it couldn’t be that hard.

  Nick waved to Archer, as well as to his son Linus, who was hauling his side of the boat with one arm, as well. But Linus wasn’t looking at Nick. He was looking at Lily and scowling. The girl could be a bit forward, but Nick assumed someone like Linus would appreciate that.

  Nick was both impressed and irritated to see the other men joking and laughing with each other, as if none of them were suffering the aftereffects of too much drink and a hard day’s work. While he’d mostly recovered from the excesses of the previous night, he’d still rather be lying on his lumpy bed at the inn.

  Old Archer hailed Nick. “Oi! Chilcott! Glad you could make it. Best stand aside whilst we hoist the nets over.”

  The words were barely out of his mouth before Archer and two other men hoisted a gigantic net filled with fish over the side of the boat and onto the sand. Nick just avoided being hit with it. Yet, he still felt the sensory impact of having a few hundred pounds of fish land at his feet. He must have looked as green as he felt, for the men laughed.

  “You don’t look well, mate,” said Linus. “Perhaps you should stand back with the ladies.”

  While Nick would like nothing more than to stand back – a good mile or two should do the trick – there was something about the way Linus had made the suggestion which made Nick reluctant to back down. “I assure you I am fine,” said Nick, trying his hardest not to be sick.

  He made his way awkwardly across the sandy beach. Wet sand wasn’t easy to walk in. “What should I do?”

  “You might want to hoist the anchor to keep the boat on the sand,” said Linus.

  “But…” Old Archer had been about to say something, but, after a look from his son, stopped, and began counting the fish on the beach.

  Nick had a feeling the men were about to make sport of him. He’d never taken himself all that seriously and if it got the men to open up about their wartime activities, it would be well worth it. Still, he was aware of Miss Winston watching his every move. It was one thing to look foolish in front of men he’d never see again, but quite another to appear that way in front of a lady he was interested in.

  Not that he was interested in her, of course. But he was supposed to see her later and he didn’t want her to think him a fool.

  He got to the back of the rowboat, which he thought was aft, but did it truly matter? The anchor itself wasn’t that large, perhaps only three feet long and half as wide. He doubted he could lift it with one arm, so he reached in with both and hoisted it.

  He tried to hoist it. The blasted thing was made of iron and didn’t budge. He thought he heard someone laugh, but as he looked around, the rest of the men were intent on their work. He tried again and succeeded in moving it an inch. Then it promptly settled back into place. He tried once again, bracing his leg against the boat. But instead of moving the anchor, he only succeeded in shifting the boat forward a few inches, before sliding ingloriously down to his arse on the sand.

  Now all the men laughed, as well as the assembled crowd. Even Miss Winston laughed, though she tried to hide it by pretending to cough.

  “Chilcott!” said Old Archer. “The boat is already on the beach and don’t need to drop anchor. Come help us sort these fish.”

  Nick would rather sort Linus by throwing him into the sea. Instead, he was faced with a mountain of fish and the accompanying stench.

  “How shall I sort them?” he asked Old Archer.

  The fisherman pointed to baskets in three groups. “One’s for skate, one’s for haddock and the other for cod.” Then he went back to the other boats, leaving Nick to his work as he looked out at the hundreds of freshly caught fish.

  Nick knew which ones
were skate. It was a very distinctive looking fish – flat, brownish-grey and similar to stingrays, which he’d seen pictures of at the British Museum. However, what he’d been told were cod and haddock simply looked like…fish.

  Each of them was a bit more than three feet in length and as he picked one up, he discovered it weighed roughly two stone. In direct sunlight, some looked to be grey-ish green, while others were a red-ish brown. But whenever clouds would pass over, as they frequently did, he was once more facing a mound of nondescript fish.

  He set about his task by putting the skate in their baskets first, hoping that by the time he finished, the other men would assist him. It was slow-going work since the skate were awkward to handle and some were still rather active. The first time he picked up a skate, only to have it flap back at him, he threw the damned thing, almost hitting Miss Winston in the process.

  “Was that a flying fish?” she asked, as he came over to retrieve it.

  “For a moment.”

  “I see you have not yet made much progress with the cod and haddock. You can tell the difference between them, can you not?”

  From the look on her face, the minx knew very well he couldn’t.

  “Of course. One is cod and the other is haddock.”

  She tried unsuccessfully to hide a smile. “I see. Do you know which one has a mark by the pectoral fin?”

  “Is this some sort of test?”

  “Yes. Do you even know what a pectoral fin is?”

  “It is a fin in the pectoral region.”

  Now she grinned. “And just where is the pectoral fin?”

  “You live by the sea, Miss Winston. I am surprised you do not know.”

  “I know where the pectoral fin is, Mr. Chilcott,” said Lily, as she joined them. She moved one of her fingers down her neck toward her décolletage. “It is….here.” Then she bent forward again.

  “Oi!” Linus called out from near the boats. “Those fish ain’t getting’ any fresher, Chilcott. You’d best go back to work.” He walked up the beach toward them. “Lily, I’d like to speak to you.” He motioned for her to join him.

  The girl winked at Nick, then joined the other man further down the beach.

  “You’d best watch yourself, Mr. Chilcott,” said Miss Winston. “Before your arrival, it was all but announced that Lily Johnson and Linus Archer had an understanding.”

  “And I wish them well.”

  “But ever since you went out walking with Lily…”

  “Pray forgive my interruption, but I did no such thing.”

  “Mayhap in your mind you did no such thing…”

  “I did no such thing either in my mind or in actuality.”

  “Be that as it may, Lily told her mother and her mother’s friends that you and she went walking and that you admired the view, which was your rather unromantical way of saying you admired Lily’s looks.”

  “It was even more unromantical than you believe, Miss Winston, because I was truly admiring the sea.”

  “Though you do not know the difference between cod and haddock.”

  “One doesn’t have to know about fish to admire the sea, Miss Winston. Are you this argumentative with your betrothed?” He was having more fun than he cared to admit talking to her and for some reason he wanted to believe he’d been misinformed about her betrothal.

  “My what?”

  “Ah, it is reassuring to know that while you are, apparently, a scholar of fish, you don’t understand the meaning of a word like ‘betrothed.’ It means a person you will marry.”

  “Your sense of humor is second only to your expertise of the sea, sir. Why do you believe I am affianced?”

  Nick couldn’t help his grin. He was glad she wasn’t betrothed to Bramwell. For her sake, of course. “Mr. Bramwell said the two of you are to marry.”

  Miss Winston’s look of horror was gratifying. “We most certainly will not!”

  “Good.” He wasn’t certain what had made him say that – aloud – but, with nothing to add at the moment, he simply nodded.

  “Chilcott!” called Old Archer. “Are you going to finish or give up?”

  Nick sighed, then called out to the man. “I’m on my way.” He began his trudge back to the mountain of fish, only to have Miss Winston interrupt him.

  “The haddock have the dark spot above the pectoral fin,” she said. “It’s called the devil’s thumbprint.”

  He turned back to her and smiled. “Can I trust you or are you, too, making sport of me?”

  “You can trust me, Mr. Chilcott. You have already provided ample entertainment for the day. But do heed my words about Lily and Linus. I would not want you to come to a bad end before you’ve satisfied my curiosity about why you are here.” She curtsied, then left.

  But instead of following her as he would’ve liked, he had to go back to the damned fish.

  CHAPTER SIX

  For the second day in a row, Nick awoke miserable. But this time it wasn’t from the effects of drink. Well, he did have a few pints the night before after the fishermen had finished their work on the beach. And he’d only had to purchase one round before the men began buying their own ale. They had delighted in pounding his back and arms in thanks, which now ached like the devil from lugging bedamned fish back and forth on the beach for an hour.

  He had learned nothing about his mission at the tavern, but he’d realized Miss Winston had been in earnest about her warnings regarding Linus and Lily. Linus had sulked most of the night when he wasn’t glaring at Nick. He’d wanted to assure the young man he had no designs on Lily, but he’d been too sore to move from his seat.

  And today he felt even worse. The only bright spot was that he had received a message from Miss Winston that she’d meet him on a bluff near the sea. He hoped she would have answers for him.

  * * *

  Kate wasn’t quite herself. She had slept very little the night before and had awakened well before her usual hour. She hoped Mr. Chilcott would be able to meet her. She had delivered the note to the inn early enough that she hoped she hadn’t missed him. She wasn’t sure why she was looking forward to their meeting quite this much.

  She liked talking to him. And she had admired the way he’d persevered on the beach the day before. It had been obvious that the men were hazing him, hoping the London lord – for that’s what everyone thought he was – would either quit or collapse. But he’d continued onward and had been quite impressive in his strength. While he hadn’t handled the fish with the ease of the villagers, they had been working the sea their entire lives. It wasn’t the kind of work a stranger could easily do. And she even saw Old Archer nod approvingly in his direction when Mr. Chilcott wasn’t looking.

  Linus, however, had looked like he wanted to thrash him. Kate wasn’t sure why Linus was so enamored with a girl as silly as Lily, but she could understand wanting to be loved.

  It was a clear day as she reached the rendezvous point. The sun was bright, but the wind whipped at her skirts as she looked out at the sea. She turned to see Mr. Chilcott approach. He looked as handsome as ever. “Good morning,” she said.

  “Good morning,” he said, as he handed her a mug. “I brought us coffee.”

  Did he have to be handsome and thoughtful? “Thank you. Have you recovered from the excesses of yesterday?”

  “I had very little to drink,” he said, as he began walking next to her.

  “I meant the excesses of physical activity. I cannot imagine you spend much time collecting fish in baskets in your free time.”

  “Mercifully, no. And my arms, legs and back do feel it. But there are merits in exercise. You must agree, since you spend so much time walking.”

  “Walking is an exercise for the body and the mind. My thoughts often benefit far more than my physical self.”

  “What do you think about when you walk?”

  “Mostly the future,” she said as she turned to face him. The wind was whipping the hair back from his face, enabling her to see his dark br
own eyes. They were regarding her curiously, as if he truly cared about what she had to say. No one had done that since Oscar died. She looked out to sea, instead. No good could come from thoughts like those.

  “And what do you think of the future?” he asked.

  “It is of no import.”

  “I believe it is. My thoughts are often about the future, about what I should and should not do and how little control we actually have.”

  “You speak of the future, sir, yet you’ve been most concerned about the past. Would you like to tell me why?”

  “You are determined to retrieve my secrets from me.”

  “Only the ones pertaining to this village. I have a feeling some of your secrets wouldn’t be fit for me to hear.”

  His eyebrows rose in surprise and his lips curled up in a smile. “You are rather outspoken.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How do you know I meant that as a compliment?”

  “Ah, but there’s the rub, sir. It matters little what you think of outspoken ladies, since I rather like them.” They walked along in silence for a moment. “How do you feel about outspoken ladies?”

  “Since I have a family filled with them, I confess to being rather fond of them.”

  Her surprise must have been evident.

  “What is the matter, Miss Winston? Did you believe I wouldn’t appreciate an outspoken, intelligent woman?”

  “No. But I am surprised you’d confess to it. Who are these women?”

  “I have three outspoken sisters, as well as two living brothers who were smart enough to marry intelligent wives.”

  “Two ‘living’ brothers?” she asked.

  “Unfortunately, two of my brothers passed away some years ago.” Now he looked out to sea.

  “I am sorry to hear it,” she said, resisting the urge to take his hand. “One never quite gets over a loss like that.”

  “You are speaking of your parents?”

  “My parents and dear Oscar. It can be hard to think of the future if it only means more loss.”

  “What of your future, Miss Winston? If you do not mean to accept Mr. Bramwell’s proposal…”