Read Online A Cornish Stranger by Liz Fenwick - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Liz Fenwick
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a tall man with loose dark curls and the boat in question was the same one they had watched earlier; now it was tied to the quay. Jaunty handed her uneaten sausage to the stranger.
âGabriella, there you are.â Jaunty smiled and her eyes gleamed. The man turned to Gabe. In the dwindling light, his skin looked pale and his almond-shaped eyes secretive. She stood tall and breathed out slowly to release the tension that had gripped her when she heard the unknown voice.
âThis is Fin.â Jaunty paused.
âFin Alexander.â He smiled at Gabe.
âHeâs the owner of that fine boat, Jezebel .â Jauntyâs voice caught on the name of the boat.
He held out his hand and Gabe realised hers were in fists. She forced them to unfold then wiped the sweat from them on to her jeans before she took his hand. His grip was firm and he had a warm smile, but there was something about him that niggled at the back of Gabeâs mind. She looked from her grandmotherâs smiling face to his. What was it about him that had made Jaunty so bright? Gabe stepped back. Why was he here?
âI thought I could ask this young man . . .â Jaunty paused and sipped her wine â. . . if he would help me up to the cabin rather than you struggling with me.â Jaunty beamed and Gabe blinked. Her grandmother seemed so perky all of a sudden. Reluctantly, Gabe assessed the stranger. His shoulders were broad and his cheekbones were almost classical. She guessed he was older than her by at least five years.
âI can manage quite well. No need to ask a stranger,â Gabe said, wondering what spell he had cast over Jaunty.
âItâs been a long, long time since Iâve been swept up by a handsome man,â Jaunty said, laughing.
Gabe reminded herself to limit Jauntyâs wine intake in the future. Somehow, the thought of Jaunty in the arms of a stranger was all wrong.
He took the piece of kitchen roll that Jaunty offered him. âMore than happy to help.â
âThen, thanks.â Gabe forced her mouth into a smile and, as her lips stretched, the skin cracked. She wasnât sure why she felt uncomfortable about this, but she did. If it had been Mike Gear or someone else from the village she would have been relieved not to have to carry her grandmother; maybe it was simply because she didnât know this man that she was uneasy.
Jaunty extended her hand to Fin and he grasped the frail one.
âThank you,â Jaunty said as he scooped her into his arms.
A quick glance showed Gabe that his muscles had barely registered her grandmotherâs weight. She must feel like a feather to him. Gabe bent and collected the cushion from the quay, not quite sure what to do with herself. Jaunty was clearly drunk. Her accent had slipped into cut-glass mode and she was a woman that Gabe didnât know.
With her arms wrapped around his neck, an expression she had never seen before crossed her grandmotherâs face, followed by a fleeting smile. Gabe wasnât sure her grandmother was here or lost in her own memories . . .
Gabe grabbed her grandmotherâs empty plate and glass then followed them up to the cabin, trying not to admire the strangerâs firm bottom. He made light work out of what would have been a struggle for her, and when they reached the terrace he placed Jaunty carefully on her feet. He looked into the cabin and his glance lingered on Jauntyâs paintings. They were valuable and the thought crossed Gabeâs mind that he might be a thief.
Jaunty smiled up at him. âThank you, Fin. Would you like a coffee?â
Gabe stared, astonished. Jaunty never entertained anyone. The woman protected her privacy above all and it had been a struggle to bring friends home. Only a few had been allowed to come, and never their parents. After a time, Gabe had given up trying. Looking at her suddenly animated grandmother, Gabe blamed the wine.
âThank you, but no. I need to
âGabriella, there you are.â Jaunty smiled and her eyes gleamed. The man turned to Gabe. In the dwindling light, his skin looked pale and his almond-shaped eyes secretive. She stood tall and breathed out slowly to release the tension that had gripped her when she heard the unknown voice.
âThis is Fin.â Jaunty paused.
âFin Alexander.â He smiled at Gabe.
âHeâs the owner of that fine boat, Jezebel .â Jauntyâs voice caught on the name of the boat.
He held out his hand and Gabe realised hers were in fists. She forced them to unfold then wiped the sweat from them on to her jeans before she took his hand. His grip was firm and he had a warm smile, but there was something about him that niggled at the back of Gabeâs mind. She looked from her grandmotherâs smiling face to his. What was it about him that had made Jaunty so bright? Gabe stepped back. Why was he here?
âI thought I could ask this young man . . .â Jaunty paused and sipped her wine â. . . if he would help me up to the cabin rather than you struggling with me.â Jaunty beamed and Gabe blinked. Her grandmother seemed so perky all of a sudden. Reluctantly, Gabe assessed the stranger. His shoulders were broad and his cheekbones were almost classical. She guessed he was older than her by at least five years.
âI can manage quite well. No need to ask a stranger,â Gabe said, wondering what spell he had cast over Jaunty.
âItâs been a long, long time since Iâve been swept up by a handsome man,â Jaunty said, laughing.
Gabe reminded herself to limit Jauntyâs wine intake in the future. Somehow, the thought of Jaunty in the arms of a stranger was all wrong.
He took the piece of kitchen roll that Jaunty offered him. âMore than happy to help.â
âThen, thanks.â Gabe forced her mouth into a smile and, as her lips stretched, the skin cracked. She wasnât sure why she felt uncomfortable about this, but she did. If it had been Mike Gear or someone else from the village she would have been relieved not to have to carry her grandmother; maybe it was simply because she didnât know this man that she was uneasy.
Jaunty extended her hand to Fin and he grasped the frail one.
âThank you,â Jaunty said as he scooped her into his arms.
A quick glance showed Gabe that his muscles had barely registered her grandmotherâs weight. She must feel like a feather to him. Gabe bent and collected the cushion from the quay, not quite sure what to do with herself. Jaunty was clearly drunk. Her accent had slipped into cut-glass mode and she was a woman that Gabe didnât know.
With her arms wrapped around his neck, an expression she had never seen before crossed her grandmotherâs face, followed by a fleeting smile. Gabe wasnât sure her grandmother was here or lost in her own memories . . .
Gabe grabbed her grandmotherâs empty plate and glass then followed them up to the cabin, trying not to admire the strangerâs firm bottom. He made light work out of what would have been a struggle for her, and when they reached the terrace he placed Jaunty carefully on her feet. He looked into the cabin and his glance lingered on Jauntyâs paintings. They were valuable and the thought crossed Gabeâs mind that he might be a thief.
Jaunty smiled up at him. âThank you, Fin. Would you like a coffee?â
Gabe stared, astonished. Jaunty never entertained anyone. The woman protected her privacy above all and it had been a struggle to bring friends home. Only a few had been allowed to come, and never their parents. After a time, Gabe had given up trying. Looking at her suddenly animated grandmother, Gabe blamed the wine.
âThank you, but no. I need to
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