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Since Elias had time after he’d finished eating and before he needed to meet Helen, he walked the shoreline. It had become his habit when visiting anywhere near the water, but his favorite places to beachcomb were in Cornwall.
Every few steps, he’d bend to pluck a piece of sea glass from amidst the sand and pebbles. Greens and whites were the usual findings, but occasionally he’d gain a turquoise piece or even a bit of black glass. Farther down the beach, he found the stem of an ivory clay pipe. Every precious one he deposited into his waistcoat pocket, for he kept a jar in his luggage wherever he went to fill with his colorful and interesting treasures.
As the sun flirted with the clouds, Elias continued his walk, and soon he came upon an older gentleman who stood on the sand, the water lapping at the toes of his worn boots. He had his hands clasped behind his back while the ever-present breeze ruffled his head full of white hair, making it stick up even worse than it had before in places.
“Good morning.” Elias hailed him, and when the other man didn’t immediately answer, he took up a position beside him. “I say, it’s a good morning, isn’t it?”
“Aye. Every morning I wake is good indeed,” said the man. He didn’t turn his attention away from watching the waves.
“The name’s Captain Frampton. I blew in with the storm, you could say.” When his attempt at levity fell flat, he racked his brain on how to connect with the other man.
“Seen you in the tavern room.” The older man nodded. “Michael Everly.” He tapped his chest. “My daughter runs the place.”
“Ah, I can see the family resemblance.” Helen only took after him in the eyes, which was probably a good thing, for Mr. Everly was a rather haggard, spindly fellow. “Nice girl is Helen. I’ve enjoyed our conversations.”
“She’s been a good girl, real helpful, since her youth. Likes to laugh, that one. I appreciate her cheerful spirit.” He glanced at Elias. The trace of a grin graced his thin lips though faint sadness clouded his faded brown eyes. “This life ain’t for her though.”
The breeze flapped at the edges of his greatcoat. “Oh? How so?” Though anticipation for discovering more about Helen buzzed down his spine, he didn’t want to pry.
“Her uncle on her mother’s side is a viscount. The man’s in his eighties but never married. I should have sent Helen to London to live with him. She could have made a go of life with the nobs and ladies, married someone of consequence.” He shook his head and once more stared out to sea. “But she chose this... chose me.” The man wiped at a few escaped tears on his cheeks. “Always felt guilty about that. Wasting her life...” His words faded.
“I’m certain she doesn’t hold that against you. To be sure, she seems happy enough.” Yet, was she? Elias remembered the longing he’d spied deep in the depths of her eyes. What did she want for her life if she didn’t need to linger in Port Isaac?
Silence brewed between them for the space of a few heartbeats, then the other man looked at him. Surprise etched his features. “Didn’t see you standing there, stranger.” He stuck out a hand. “Michael Everly. Pleased to meet you.”
What was this? For a moment, confusion held Elias captive. Then he recalled Helen mentioning that her father’s mind was fading. He shook the proffered appendage. “Captain Frampton.” Would he forget the conversation they’d just had? Most likely. How very sad. No wonder Helen lingered in the area and had taken up the mantle of trying to run the inn by herself. His respect for her rose and collided with the urge to ease her burden.
“Aye.” The older man nodded. He glanced at the ever-moving waves of the sea. “Looks to be a good day, at least until rain returns.” With a slight grin, he resumed moving along the shore. “Best enjoy it now.”
With nothing else to do, Elias kept his own counsel and continued in the opposite direction.
Just after noon, he and Helen left the inn and walked inland toward a stretch of trees and tangles of brambles. He carried an axe while she kept a well-worn black cloak tightly around her form. The breeze, though not as biting as it would be in northern parts of England, still brought a decent December chill.
Though the companionable quiet between them was enjoyable, he craved hearing her voice. “Why do you like Christmastide so much? I don’t believe I’ve met anyone who throws her heart and soul into the holiday as much as you.”
“Oh, but it’s such a magical time of the year,” she enthused as she turned her head and met his gaze. Anticipation lit her brown depths. “It was my mother’s favorite. She used to talk about Christmastide throughout the year, and she filled her spare time on handiwork she’d hold back for presents.” When a happy smile curved her lips, Elias couldn’t help staring at her mouth.
What would those tempting lips feel like against his? For that matter, had his charming companion ever been kissed? Suddenly, he very much wanted—needed—to know. But he wasn’t crass enough to ask. “It sounds as if you and your family held wonderful celebrations.”
“Oh, we did.” The breeze tugged a few tendrils of her hair free from its pins. “As a girl, I used to dream about the magic inherent throughout the holiday season. In my mind, I saw myself presiding over large family gatherings with plenty of sweets and all-too-rich foods. There would be laughter and happiness, and best of all love.”
“That sounds nice.” Once upon a time, he thought he might have that as well in his life, but fate had taken him down a different path.
“I suppose I haven’t given up that dream completely, but I am an only child, and when my mother died, it was difficult to maintain the enthusiasm, yet I try.” Her voice shifted, and the happiness of which she spoke of Christmas became lost to slight acrimony. “I like to make certain the guests at the Brown Hart have a chance to usher in the holidays, but all too often, the attitude of Port Isaac is brusque and grouchy. Life depends heavily on the whims of the sea here. It’s both benevolent or vengeful, so oftentimes these crusty sailors want nothing to do with fripperies and nonsense.”
“Yet you cling to the hopes and your traditions despite it all,” he finished in a soft voice.
“As much as I can when time allows.” She shrugged. “Some years it’s more difficult, for during this time I miss my mother the most.” A tiny catch in her voice tugged at his chest. “I’m beginning to miss my father as well. Every day that goes by, he slips further from me.”
“That’s understandable. I met him on the shore this morning. We had a decent conversation, and then with his next breath, he’d forgotten.”
When she met his gaze, that longing she always carried —for family, for an easier time of it, for love?— burned bright. “Life certainly isn’t fair, but this is the only one that I have.”
“I admire your positive outlook despite the difficulties.” Though he wanted to touch her hand, give her the support she desperately needed, he tamped the urge. If she rejected the overture, their tenuous, budding friendship might suffer, and he enjoyed her company too much to let that happen. “Don’t stop trying to keep the spirit of Christmas alive in memory of your mother. The world needs more of that right now. Too many folks are broken and hopeless after the war.”
“I’m trying my level best,” she managed to whisper, and once more looked away, training her attention on the trees that surrounded them. “I also hope my father might remember.”
“I’m not quite certain how the mind works, but something might get through the fog he struggles with.”
“I think so too.” She blinked away the tears welling in her expressive eyes. “Besides, it’s a cheerful time, where everything is gay and pretty with decorations, and nice smells fill the air, and there’s the chance to indulge in foods and expensive wine.” When she giggled, the sound went through his blood, igniting tiny fires along the way. “Christmastide is a time for dreaming... and hope.”
“Indeed.” And with the opportunity to know this remarkable woman, the kernel of hope he perpetually carried began to bloom.
Interesting, that.
“Oh, look, Elias. Just there.” Helen pointed at a dense patch of trees. “There are evergreens, and they’re so jolly and fat. Those boughs will do splendidly.”
“Then by all means, let me assist in the gathering.” He flashed her a smile, for this was the first time in his life that he’d gone to the bother of passing the holiday in such a manner.
An hour went by as quick as a blink, filled with talk, her laughter, the sounds of his axe hacking at branches, and the pungent, unmistakable scents of pine. As they delved farther into the wilds, holly bushes were located within the brambles, and he was obliged to cut copious amounts of them too.
“Do you desire more?” When he glanced at her for confirmation, his breath stalled. With her arms full of greenery, the red berries of the holly stark against that green, and her eyes shining with anticipation, all against the sunny, cloud-studded blue sky, with her cloak waving in the breeze, she was the perfect picture of innocence, magic, and Christmastide.
“I can’t imagine we need much more than this.”
“Oh, we might need something else.” Elias couldn’t let the opportunity go by. He swiftly closed the distance between them, cupped her cheek with his free hand, and then lowered his head and claimed her lips in a brief, gentle kiss designed to introduce himself to her as a man to a woman.
Would she slap him and storm back to the inn?
Merciful heavens, he kissed me!
Helen clutched the greenery in her arms as the captain pulled away with shock in his eyes. Her heartbeat fluttered wildly, and tingles went through her lower belly. It was silly to feel such a thrill, but she couldn’t help it. She’d attained the advanced age of eight and twenty without ever having been kissed by a man. It was one thing to be an old maid, but quite another to know not one of those men had ever desired her for something as lovely as a kiss.
But here was this man, this sea captain, who’d stolen just that, and she felt its echo from the roots of her hair all the way down to her toes. God help her, she wanted him to repeat that gesture merely to experience it again.
Yet he didn’t. Instead, Elias stared at her, questions in his eyes as she clutched the greenery to her person. The scent of pine wafted to her nose, and it would always remind her of him.
“That was...”
Nice? Lovely? Interesting enough to set off an avalanche of craving? Oh, what she wouldn’t do to throw caution to the wind, drop the holiday greenery, and throw herself into his arms, but she was loathe to appear desperate. She temporarily lost her voice, so she merely raised an eyebrow.
His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have taken the liberty. Please, forgive me.”
What was this? Helen shook her head. “Don’t ruin the kiss with an apology that’s not needed.” Her lips tingled from where he’d pressed his to them. “I don’t mind, truly. It was nice, and...” She ducked her head as heat slapped at her cheeks. “It was my first.” Had she known he’d meant to kiss her, she would have enjoyed it more.
“What gammon is that?” Genuine surprise filled his voice. His eyebrows rose to his hairline. “I find it hard to believe that you’ve been tucked away here in a port town and not one of those buggars drifting through the inn had the courage to court you, let alone kiss you.”
“It’s true.” Oh, how dear he was! The captain’s astonishment made her smile. “My father is—was—a good judge of character. He ran off many bounders, sea-faring men especially. I suppose word must have gotten round I wasn’t worth the challenge as long as my watchdog remained.”
“Perhaps he has good reason to be choosy.”
“I imagine he does, but that makes it dratted uncomfortable if I spend time with any man he doesn’t approve of.” She shrugged and the branches in her arms rustled. “I made peace with my lot a long time ago. My value isn’t tied into my ability—or not—to land a man.”
But, oh how it would make more comfortable and less lonely during the long, cold nights.
“I like that mindset.” Elias made no move to continue. His fingers drummed upon the handle of the axe blade. “About the kiss...”
“Yes?” Her breath stalled. Would he ask permission for another?
“I enjoyed it, for what that’s worth. All those other men missed out due to lack of courage.”
“Thank you.” Heat raged in her cheeks. Surely, he must think her a complete country bumpkin.
A rather cheeky grin curved his mouth and took years from his face. “Shall we continue? I suspect you might want a few more branches even though you’ve already said nay.”
“I do like a festive table as well as a hearth.” She glanced at the greenery in her arms, admired the red holly berries against the dark green waxy leaves, and she grinned. “Yes. The more, the better.”
“Agreed, merely for the fact that it makes you happy.”
“Oh.” The heat in her cheeks renewed. No one had ever gone out of their way for her happiness before. “That’s sweet of you.”
“My pleasure.” He looked at her with amusement twinkling in his eyes. “If we can locate a decent sized evergreen tree, I intend to chop it down and bring it back with us. It’s all the rage in the Bavarian region. Perhaps it will usher in some Christmas cheer for your guests. And you.”
Good heavens, if he didn’t stop being so congenial, she’d melt into a puddle at his feet. “Thank you.” They walked through the wilds while birds chirped in the trees and the sounds of fishermen’s shouts and the cries of shore birds echoed. “Will you, ah, help me decorate with all of this?” She jostled the bundle in her arms. “We keep tin bells and glass baubles in the cellars, along with a few scraps of ribbon. That’s the only room we have for storage.”
“I’d be delighted and honored if you’ll include me in anything that reminds you of your mother.” He settled the axe head on his shoulder. “Lord knows I could benefit from remembering the feeling of family.”
What was his history? He’d not spoken of his parents or even of any family members. And from all accounts, he must have left for the navy at a young age. Perhaps this Christmastide would benefit them both. “I look forward to it.”
Another hour was spent inspecting trees and combing through the brambles for greenery of interest. No sooner had Elias selected an appropriate evergreen tree and chopped it down did a few splatters of rain mar the afternoon.
“Perhaps it will grow cold enough for a proper snow tomorrow,” Helen mused as she walked beside the captain. Her afternoon of freedom was nearly over, and though she was grateful for the opportunity, she couldn’t help but want a return of that leisure time.
“One never knows with Cornwall. It’s quite a magical place.” He dragged the poor evergreen tree behind him as they headed toward the inn.
“It does indeed.” A feeling of giddiness welled within her. This was her favorite time of year, and now there was Captain Frampton to share it with her. “I often wonder if I could live elsewhere in England, far away from Cornwall.”
“And what is your answer?”
Helen shrugged. “That I might enjoy it for a season or two, but my heart would always remain here. There’s something about this area that calls to me, whispers its secrets with a dare that I might truly explore them.”
“Cornwall is a large place. It would take a lifetime to see them all.” Companionable silence returned between them before he spoke again. “What of London? If the opportunity to live there was presented, would you take it?”
“I would need to ponder the decision for a while.” London seemed so far away and so exotic. “However, I do wish to visit the city in my lifetime. The hustle and bustle and crowds seem like a different world from the one I live in.”
“It does take a bit to acclimate, but everyone should take in the sights at least once.” He nudged her arm with his. Pleasant heat slid outward from the point of contact. “Or a carriage ridge through Rotten Row, a trip to Vauxhall, or even sample drinking chocolate at one of the chocolate houses.”
“It sounds daunting and exciting at the same time.” Yet she was a simple girl from a fishing village. “Perhaps it’s better I’m in Port Isaac. I haven’t the gowns nor the sophistication to mingle among London’s residents.”
“Such poppycock. Gaining a little Town bronze is a good thing, and it makes one appreciate their roots all the more.”
“Do you plan to go up to London after your stay here is finished?” A tremor of unease buzzed at the base of her spine. Would he go the distance in his slow pursuit of her, or would he give into the call of the sea or the lure and enticement of the city?
“I haven’t quite decided. Nothing is pressing, so I intend to enjoy myself in Port Isaac a little while longer.” When he caught her gaze, emotions clouded those stormy depths she couldn’t read.
Perhaps those questions didn’t matter in the moment. She would relish the time she had with him now and pick up the pieces if they happened to fall later. After all, what sort of life was it if she kept herself locked away from everything?
However, she did know something for certain. “Elias?” Would he think her too forward?
“Hmm?” He didn’t slow his stride.
“If you find it appropriate between now and Christmas, will you kiss me again?” Did that make her desperate or a wanton to even ask? No doubt cultured ladies in London didn’t put forth a question like that.
Delight lit his face, and he nodded, but his grin sent tingles sailing through her belly. “I look forward to catching you unawares again, when your arms aren’t full, so you can enjoy the full experience.” When he winked, another blush raged in her cheeks.
“What a lovely thought.” Helen glanced away before she lost her wits. One little kiss. That would be her Christmas gift to herself, and once he left Port Isaac for his adventures, at least she’d have that to remember in the lonely years to come.