Had he heard her?
When he returned a few minutes later, he carried a heavy cloak and a scarf over his arm. ‘These should keep you warm enough.’ He presented them to her.
‘I don’t understand, Mr King. I am comfortable in here.’
‘But we are not staying in here,’ he announced with animation. ‘I have asked Xavier to hitch the greys to my curricle. I want to take you for a drive.’
Serena opened her mouth in a silent ‘oh’. He was taking her out. In his carriage. At night.
A tiny thrill shot through her body. She did not expect he had anything in mind other than sharing an interesting book, but she was not inclined to refuse any time with him.
Mr King held the coat up for her and then draped the scarf around her neck.
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Shall we, then?’ He proffered his arm.
With a smile, she hooked her hand through his elbow and let him lead her to the stables.
A serious-faced Mr Xavier greeted them. ‘Uncle, I wish you wouldn’t take the curricle out at night. There is no moon this evening and the clouds obscure the stars.’
‘Nonsense, Xavier. I have a bright lantern and I am not racing. And besides, we are not going far. Just to the lighthouse. We shall be back before you know it.’
Mr Xavier looked as though he had much more to say, but held his tongue and nodded instead, fiddling with the reins in his hand.
Mr King turned to Serena and assisted her into the light carriage, then climbed up beside her. The young horseman handed him the reins without a smile and bid them a safe drive. Mr King tipped his hat to his nephew and flicked the reins.
‘Did you mention a lighthouse?’ The exchange between the two men piqued Serena’s interest.
Mr King shot her a sideways glance. ‘I thought since you appreciated Aleron, I would show you other interesting architecture in the region.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yes. Francis Greenway built the lighthouse nearby. He died five years ago, but his work lives on.’ He briefly looked at her again. ‘That’s the great thing about buildings. They outlive their creators.’
Serena smirked at him. ‘Unless they burn down.’
Mr Kings eyebrows drew together. ‘What a thing to say. Miss Bellingham, I declare that was most irreverent of you.’
As if the structures themselves were deities. Serena turned her face away, so he did not notice her roll her eyes.
‘Anyway, as I was saying, Mr Greenway designed several buildings around Sydney. He originally came to Australia as a prisoner. Fraud I think it was. But while still incarcerated, he showed his ability in design and soon received a commission to build the Macquarie Lighthouse. He wasn’t happy just to create buildings in the standard way, he aspired for something greater. No box-like structures for him, no. He built in grand Palladian style as you shall soon see.’
‘Will I see, sir? In the dark?’
Mr King turned to her with a quirked eyebrow as though in disbelief. ‘It’s a lighthouse, m’dear. Of course you’ll see it.’
Serena suppressed a giggle and pulled the cloak tighter around her shoulders. Even if Mr King thought too highly of himself, he certainly possessed a wealth of knowledge. She could learn a deal of information from him. Indeed, it would be akin to receiving an education—something she had experienced little of before Mama passed. And what a teacher he would be.
Once again, Mr King shifted his face toward her, this time with a gentle smile. Serena bit on her lip and dipped her head. Thankfully it was too dark for him to see her blush. He mustn’t know the attraction she felt. Surely, he would think her more the fool for it.
‘Here we are,’ he declared, rounding a bend, and Serena saw the aura of light shining from the lighthouse out to the ocean beyond them.
12
The lighthouse was a whitewashed construction, tall and stately. Similar arches to those at Aleron graced the base of the lighthouse. ‘These arches are more rounded than yours,’ Serena noted as her escort handed her from the curricle.
‘Yes, I follow a more gothic approach than Mr Greenway did, more reminiscent of churches and cathedrals.’ His fingers lingered over hers for a moment, making Serena’s heart quicken. She tugged her hand away and walked toward the edifice.
Mr King, having secured the horses, jogged up beside her with the lantern and offered her his arm. Serena hesitated. She could become too comfortable with this closeness.
‘We can’t have you stumbling in the dark.’ He gave her a cajoling wink.
Serena capitulated and took his arm, but kept her gaze fixed on the lighthouse. ‘Why use a design trait usually devoted to glorifying God?’
Mr King eyed her askance. ‘Why should God be stingy with the grand architecture? Are we not worthy to live with as elegant design as He?’
Serena tried not to frown at his arrogance. ‘None of us is worthy, Mr King. Not in the least.’
‘Humph.’ He gave her a dubious look. ‘And do you suppose such humility impresses the Almighty?’ His words held a hint of scorn.
Serena carefully chose her reply. ‘The Scriptures say a man’s pride shall bring him low, but honour shall uphold the humble in spirit.’
‘They say that?’ Mr King looked more doubtful than ever.
‘Yes, they do. In Proverbs, I think.’
He shrugged. ‘I put little stock in the Bible. So, what is your impression of this lighthouse?’
Like that, he dismissed the subject, without a blink of his brown eyes. Did he realise that King David called God a light to his path—a guiding light similar as a lighthouse to a sailor? Serena determined not to press Mr King on the matter though, and turned her full attention to the tall building before her. They now stood at the base of it, and she leaned her head back to admire the majesty of the smooth stone tower—a herald to ships on the sea to find safety. An important structure that must stand the test of time.
As if reading her mind, Mr King
