“It was nothing.” She was cool in return. “My duty to Sir William. I know not to speak of it.”

“And besides,” he said.

“Besides?”

Now it was his turn to be lost for words. “I wanted . . . I want . . . I hoped I might do something that would help you. I would have sent you money, but I thought this would be better.”

“That was kind of you, sir. But I need nothing.”

“Because I—” He broke off.

“Because you?”

He took a breath. “I have never known a woman like you before.”

“ ‘A woman like you in a place like this,’ ” she quoted his words back at him.

He flushed. “Such a stupid thing to say.”

“No! I was so pleased! It meant—”

“Not that I think there is anything wrong with Sealsea Island.”

“It’s very poor,” she said simply. “It must look very poor to you, who are used to so much better. Finer.”

“I’ve never met a woman finer than you!”

They were both shocked at his sudden honesty. It was as if they both heard the words and would have to go apart from each other in silence and think what they meant.

“I’d better go,” she said, her hand on the latch but not moving.

“Yes,” he said. “Can you buy the fishing boat now?”

He watched her smile and then she raised her eyes to meet his.

“I’m getting it next week,” she said with simple gratitude. “I’m going with my brother to see an old skiff at Dell Quay.”

“Will you sail it home?”

“Oh, no. We wouldn’t go all the way by sea around the island. I wouldn’t dare. We’ll borrow a cart from the tide mill and fetch it down the lanes. It’s only a little way by land, five miles.”

“And will you be brave enough to take it out on the water?”

“I must be,” she said steadily. “I have to be.”

“Will you take me out? I could bring the boys. Your son must know how to fish—he could teach Walter.”

Together they considered this; they imagined this next step.

“I don’t see why not,” she said slowly, imagining how it would look to the servants in the household, what they would say at the mill if they saw the boat on the water with the four of them on board. “Would Sir William allow Master Walter to go out in a little boat?”

“Why not? And Robert can guide us to your cottage. There would be nothing wrong in that.”

“Nothing wrong,” she agreed with him.

It was odd that their last words, as she bobbed a curtsey and went through the door to the sea meadow, was that there could be nothing wrong. They both knew that it was wrong: she should not be hoping that her son would bring him to her, and James knew very well that he should not meet her again.