Time to remember when he had gone.
He helped her into the little sailing boat and after pushing it out into the water, his shoes and stockings flung into the bottom of the boat, he jumped in and they set off.
The journey back was slower and the wind was in the wrong place so he had to tack constantly but she didn’t mind. She enjoyed watching him work, seeing how clever he was. How very much at home he was on the water. It was as they rounded the headland into the little bay that the wave came out of nowhere. It reared up, looming over the little boat, swamping them.
Next moment they had capsized.
Clarissa felt herself sinking, the world suddenly all green with sunlight streaking through it. Her mouth and nose filled with salty water and she wondered if this was to be the end of her life, right here and now. And then she bounced back to the surface, her clothing full of air, and splashed her arms to try to keep herself afloat. She felt his hands fumbling to grab hold of hers and then she was being tugged along toward the upside down keel of the boat. He hauled her up onto the hull, giving her a hard shove until she was able to clamber further herself, until she was safe and out of the water.
Half sitting up, she pushed the long wet strands of her hair from her eyes. Her bonnet was dangling about her neck, sodden and ruined, and no doubt her dress was too. She shivered as the breeze blew on her wet skin and looked down to where Alistair was swimming beside her, his face upturned to hers and his dark hair plastered to his head. His eyelashes were clumped together, she noticed inconsequently, and his lips were a little blue from the cold.
Suddenly he shook his head and water sprayed everywhere and now his hair stood up in tufts. He looked so funny that she laughed. She tried to cover her mouth but the laughter kept coming and
suddenly he was laughing too.
When finally they stopped he said, “You are an amazing woman, Clarissa Debenham. I don’t think I have ever met a woman as amazing as you.”
And he was gazing at her with a look that told her he meant it.
She knew she should be frightened; she should be anxious, but all she could think was that she was here in the sea with Alistair and he thought her amazing.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Ooh, miss, you’re soaked.”
The maid’s eyes were round as she helped Clarissa off with her wringing wet clothes and offered her a towel to dry herself on. The inn was small and the only private room left was tiny, being upstairs in the attics. Clarissa thanked her, shivering still, and very glad to be on dry land.
A fisherman had come to their aid when he saw them waving and calling out for help. They’d been taken to the harbour, the upturned boat towed behind them, and now they were in the inn being tended to by the kindly inn-keeper and his staff.
“There’s a rogue wave comes along the rocks out there,” the fisherman had informed them. “I’ve lost count of ‘ow many folk get upturned by it. You’re not the first, sir.”
“The first second lieutenant in the navy, I’ll bet,” Alistair murmured to Clarissa with a wry smile. “I wouldn’t want word to get out that I can’t even stay afloat in a dingy.”
She bit her lip but her eyes must have shown how amused by it she was because he shook his head at her. “You have a cruel twisted sense of humour, Miss Debenham.”
Did she? she wondered now, shivering before the fire. Or was it just that these days she was more willing to find the humour in most things, even being overturned in a sailing boat?
The truth was Alistair made her smile, even when he wasn’t trying to. Mr. Marly only made her feel inadequate and rather worried about her future. How could her father think it was better for her to marry Mr. Marly and spend her life with him, when she just knew she would be miserable? As handsome as he was it seemed incredible now that she’d actually ever considered the thought—that she would have counted herself fortunate indeed had Mr Marly suggested they might have a future together. What a cold man he was, she realised, when compared with Alistair McKay. She would be better off alone than married to another like her own father.
Because it seemed extremely unlikely that Alistair had any intention of asking her to marry him.
“I’ll find you some clothes to wear, miss, and you can come down to the parlour and have something hot to eat and drink.” Annie, the maid must have thought her sad expression was to do with her current state.
“Thank you so much, Annie.”
It was no use thinking about the future now, Clarissa told herself sternly. She should enjoy the moments she had left with Alistair and not try to imagine the long days ahead. Besides, he’d promised to write to her and that would give her something to look forward to.
“You’re the school teacher over in Lyme, aren’t you?” Annie was hovering in the doorway, eyeing her curiously.
Clarissa smiled. “That’s right, I am. Clarissa Debenham.”
The girl hesitated a moment more and then burst out with, “I always wanted to learn to read and write, but my Ma couldn’t spare me. I had to help with the farm, and then . . . well, I missed out.”
Clarissa gave her a thoughtful look. “You know, I can help you to learn. If you really want to? We could meet once a week, if you could manage it, and I could set you lessons to do at home. Or here. I’m sure the inn-keeper wouldn’t mind, he seems a nice man. Would you like that?”
The girl looked amazed at first and disbelieving, then her expression changed to one of hope. “Oh yes,” she whispered, “I would.” She hesitated and then said shyly, “I would like that very much.”
“Good. Then come and visit the school in Lyme and we can see about getting you started with your reading and writing, Annie.”