He grinned, every angle on his rugged face highlighted in rose-gold evening light. I hastily turned away, my eyes landing on a fishing rod set up near to Muffin, who was nosing about on the bank.
‘You’re fishing?’
‘In theory.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Some would say after a storm is the best time to fish, but it’s too cold to stay out here for long. Really, I’m here for that.’
He nodded in the direction of downstream, and my breath caught in my throat as at precisely that moment, the sun hit the surface of the water. The trees either side were stark silhouettes against a sky ablaze with pink, amber and crimson, but the river itself was liquid gold.
We sipped our coffee and soaked up the dazzling glory in reverent silence, my cold toes and the dank air insignificant in comparison.
‘Do you often come and watch this?’ I asked, when only a sliver of copper was still visible where the water met the horizon, the forest and fields now draped in shadow.
Gideon’s gaze remained on the view. ‘It depends on the time of year. In the winter, I can time it to the end of my work day. Other months, I might take Flapjack on a walk. Or go pretend-fishing.’
‘Pretend?’
He gave a rueful smile. ‘I like the peace, the enforced sitting and waiting, the excuse to hang about on the riverbank, but I hate catching fish.’
‘There’s no one else about. Why do you need an excuse to sit here?’
‘My mum. I can’t persuade her to come with me, and if it’s cold like this, she couldn’t cope with it anyway. I just feel a bit less guilty if she thinks I’m doing a hobby, rather than choosing to be here instead of with her at home. That’s the main reason I’m not out here more frequently, because it means leaving her alone.’
‘And how often do you make use of that second mug?’ I asked, a smile tugging at my mouth.
Before answering me, he paused to point out a bird soaring higher and lower as it flew across the river and back. ‘A woodlark. It means spring is coming.’ Then he turned to me, one eyebrow raised. ‘This is the first time I’ve needed a second mug. But then.’ He shuffled on his coat. It must have been absolutely freezing down there. ‘This is the first time I’ve brought one.’
While I tried to process that revelation, he asked about my day and we chatted for a few more minutes about the Gals, who he knew well. The topic of my fake job thankfully didn’t come up, and Gideon was kind enough not to mention me bolting from the rose garden the day before. However, it was too cold to keep sitting here, and Muffin had resorted to clambering onto my lap rather than lie on the soggy ground. At a suitable pause in the conversation, we both stood up and, after Gideon had propped the chair against a tree and gathered most of his things into a rucksack, we began walking towards the house.
‘You really don’t need to escort me. I’ve got Muffin, and isn’t this all private Riverbend land?’ I asked, trying to sound as if I meant it.
‘I want to.’ He shrugged. ‘Even if I didn’t, I’m not the sort of man who lets a woman walk home in the dark.’
When we reached the door to the boot room, he stopped to check his watch. ‘It’s only seven-thirty. You could invite me in for another coffee.’
It was almost impossible to resist his smile.
‘I could, but one coffee is plenty for me this time of night.’
‘Hattie’s got decaf. Or tea. Hot chocolate.’ His smile grew. ‘I’m not really interested in a drink. But I’d love to keep talking.’
‘Talking?’ I asked, feeling a prickle of potential disappointment that he was pushing this. ‘Because I’ve met plenty of men who after walking me home and asking for a coffee they don’t really want, it’s not talking they’re interested in, either.’
He stepped back, quickly, his face plummeting, mine burning with embarrassment as I realised I’d misinterpreted his intentions.
‘No. That’s not what I meant. At all,’ he said, shaking his head in alarm. ‘Hattie’s my cousin, and my boss. Even if I was the type of guy to try to charm his way inside for that, which I’m absolutely not, I wouldn’t disrespect her by trying to seduce her guest. Or someone who’s working for her. No. Honestly. I really like talking with you. I really like… you. That’s all I meant.’
‘Right. Well. Now I’m totally mortified for assuming the worst.’
He broke the tension with a burst of laughter. ‘I hope me being interested in you wouldn’t be theworst.’
‘Either way, I will respectfully and apologetically decline. It’s been an eventful day and I’m not going to keep you from Agnes any longer.’
Gideon nodded. ‘Fair enough. Thank you for sharing the sunset with me. It was far more beautiful than if I’d watched it alone.’
‘Thanks for inviting me. It was really special.’
