Page 14 of Moonstone Landing
Within the hour, Marjorie and the Hawkes had arrived.
She had washed, dressed, and done up her hair, eager to get down to the beach. She asked Mrs. Hawke to pack her a basket and Marjorie to give her an old blanket to set out on the sand. Then she was off to meet Brioc, excited what this new day would bring.
There were more steps than she realized.
They were steep, too.
She carefully made her way down.
Climbing them would be much harder, but she would take her time and rest as she needed. Perhaps there was an easier path back to the cottage. Brioc would know and show her.
Her shoes sank into the soft sand the moment she stepped onto the beach.
She paused to take in the view.
The sand was a buttery yellow in contrast to the red of the cliff stone.
The water was the deepest blue.
The breeze was light and salty as it brushed her cheeks.
“Brioc, are you here?” She set out her blanket and picnic basket, tossed off her bonnet, shoes, and stockings, and then lifted her gown to her knees so that she could dip her feet in the water.
“It’s cold!” She gasped but held firm and walked in up to her ankles, giggling as the waves rushed in and tickled her legs as they drew back.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Brioc said, coming up behind her.
“It is glorious.” She cast him a brilliant smile. “This is a wonderful idea. I have never done this before.”
“Can you swim?”
“No.”
“Ah, be careful then. Do not go in beyond your knees. The tug of the water is powerful.”
“I won’t.” She regarded him thoughtfully.
His eyes held amusement as he returned her gaze. “What are you thinking, Hen?”
“They never found your body. Do you know where it is? If I find it, I can give you a proper burial. Perhaps this is why you are still bound here.”
“No, that is not the reason. Nothing to do with my body. It is just flesh and bone. Besides, it will never be found. It washed out into the English Channel and carried to the ocean beyond to be eaten by sharks. Hen, do not look so distraught. I was long dead. I did not feel a thing.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “I cannot help aching for you. What happened to you is so unfair.”
He shrugged. “That is life, isn’t it? Often tragic and unfair. But I love the sea. I did not mind dying there.”
“If you do not think it is your unrecovered body interfering with your release from the cottage, then what do you think is the reason?” She hastily raised her gown to her thighs as a strong wave suddenly surrounded her, and water surged above her knees.
The surge of water tugged at her as it ebbed, drawing her a few steps deeper. She managed to break away from its strong pull and darted back onto land.
“Careful, Hen. I told you, the water is powerful.”
She nodded. “I see. And you say it is calm today? How ever were you able to reach the sloop with the storm raging? What you did in saving the schoolteacher and her pupils is nothing short of a miracle.”
He cast her a wry grin. “I may be a cad, but I do have some redeeming qualities. I could not let those children drown.”
She pursed her lips in thought. “Perhaps you are here as a reward for your good deed. Do you think it is possible? That the angels left you here because this is the place you love.”
