“I will not have you mention it, Miss Stone,” he waived with a courtly smile. “It is I rather who should offer apologies.”
“You?”
“I’m late. Delayed by the discovery of a defective boom on my way here. Had to go back and notify one of the boom-tenders.”
“You have heavy responsibilities.”
There was the faintest of inflections on the last word. It brought a momentary gleam of hard alertness to the face of Acey Smith. But he as quickly hid it in a light laugh. “It all came about through my weakness for travelling by water,” he went on. “You see, there is a shorter cut by the land trail here, though I would have had to signal for one of your boats to get over to the island.”
“Won’t you be seated?” She indicated the easy chair by the window and herself sank gracefully to the nearby couch.
“Mr. Smith,” she opened in a nervous confusion that brought the faintest of pink to her delicate throat and cheeks, “I fear I am asking of you too great a favour—that I am about to request too much.”
“If you had not asked me to come here and offer what little service I may,” he replied, “I would consider I had been robbed of one of the most wonderful opportunities of my lifetime.”
“But have you considered the full nature of my request?”
The spell of those wonder eyes under the high-arched brows was upon him. “Name it,” he urged. “I must obey.”