Page 15 of A Sky Painted Gold

We stand for a second, looking at each other, and finally, he shrugs. “Either way, I think swimming is out today.”

“Yes,” I agree. “I’d already ruled it out, actually. Just think what a mess it would make of my hair.”

“And your very fetching dress,” he adds. I look at him suspiciously then to see if he is teasing me, but he’s gone back to that blank, polite expression that makes him look quite stern. I slip my shoes off and stuff them into the top of my bag.

I paddle out to the boat and Robert offers me his hand. Slipping my fingers into his, he helps to pull me on board, and I notice that his grip is firm, his skin warm. I take a moment to admire the boat – it’s a real beauty, obviously the very latest thing, all dark polished wood and gleaming brass. There seem to be lots of buttons, and I want to press them all to see what they do.

“Do you mind terribly if I have it back?” Robert asks, in that offhand voice of his, and I look up into his face.

With a start I realize that I am still holding his hand. I feel a blush spilling across my cheeks – and not a delicate, rose-tinted blush either, but something that makes my face look more akin to a ripe tomato.

“It’s just that I need both of them to start the boat,” he points out.

I snatch my hand away. “Of course,” I say frostily. “Thank you for your help.” With that I sit back on the polished wooden seat with an unladylike bump, to stew over how impossibly loathsome this man is. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, thinking happy thoughts. I feel a smile spread across my face.

“What are you thinking about?” Robert asks, and I realize he still hasn’t started the boat.

“I am thinking about kicking you in the shins,” I say, opening one eye. “It is very satisfying.”

Robert makes a sound that I would be tempted to describe as a snort if I thought that such an elegant man was capable of making such a noise, and without another word he starts the boat and turns us towards the house. It seems he hasn’t taken my threat of violence seriously, though I had only been half-joking. It is then that I notice he is wearing loose, dark trousers and a blue shirt, open at the collar and rolled up at the sleeves. Not that I am looking at his arms.

“Oh! You’re not wearing white!” I exclaim. After all the difficulties of finding something to wear, have I misunderstood the invitation? I certainly would have felt a lot more comfortable in my pink bridesmaid’s dress.

“Pardon?” Robert shouts over the noise from the motor.

“You’re not wearing white!” I yell, my voice carrying a hint of panic. “I thought the invitation said…”

He interrupts here. “I’ll change for dinner once we’re home. Although I’m not a big fan of white tie.” He grimaces. “But this evening is another one of Caitlin’s mad themes, and it’s much easier to just go along with them rather than have her wear you down with endless arguments. Trust me,” he says. “I have plenty of experience in the matter.”

“Oh, OK,” I murmur, wrapping my arms around myself and really feeling the thinness of my dress now that we are speeding across the water with the breeze roaring around us. We’re definitely moving a lot faster than I do in the old rowing boat. I desperately hope that Alice has anchored my hair firmly enough as I brush an errant curl away from my face.

“I think I owe you an apology.” The words that he speaks next seem to have been pulled reluctantly from Robert’s mouth. My head snaps up in surprise. He’s not looking at me, but still out across the water towards the house.

“An apology,” I repeat suspiciously, not sure that I have heard him right.

With a sharp click Robert cuts the engine, and the air stills around us as the boat idles in the clear water. He turns to face me.

“Yes,” he says awkwardly. “About your story.”

I feel my body tense. Is he going to make fun of me again? I eye him warily, looking for any sign of teasing.

“What about it?” I ask, trying to sound as though I haven’t given the matter another thought.

“I think you misunderstood what I said before,” he says, and he reaches up and rubs his chin. For the first time he doesn’t seem completely sure of himself.

“Oh?” I raise my eyebrows, sitting very straight on my seat with my hands clenched in my lap.

“Yes, I—” He pauses for a second here. “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he says stiffly.

“I wasn’t offended,” I sniff, keeping my voice cold and guarded. “Your opinion of my work is really neither here nor there, but I would be grateful if you would return my notes to me as soon as possible.”

Robert presses his lips together. “Of course,” he replies, and without another word he starts the engine again.

Minutes later we pull around to the side of the house, drifting into the secluded cove that is one of the island’s hidden treasures. There is a small jetty here and Robert ties the boat up before jumping out, grabbing my tatty bag in one hand and offering the other to me. He doesn’t say anything, but I know that somewhere on the inside he is laughing at me as he holds his hand out patiently for mine. With a sigh and a great show of reluctance I place my hand in his and jump lightly from the boat. This time I let go of him very quickly.

I begin to make my way towards the crumbling steps that lead up to the house, but then realize that normal guests probably wait to be guided by their hosts, and today, at least, I am determined to be a normal guest. Coming to an abrupt halt, I turn on my heel, only to knock into Robert, who has obviously been following just behind.

“Oh, sorry,” I gasp, thrown off by the very nearness of him, and the clean smell of his shirt. “I thought maybe you should be leading the way.” The words come out crossly, and they seem to stick in my throat a little.