Julia turned and began to swim again. Soon she was going to have to dry herself off and whisk herself back tothe house so that her hair would be dry in plenty of timethat no one at breakfast would suspect how she had begunher day.
Not even Daniel. Gussie’s pompous ass. She smiled at the remembered name and her remembered glee at hearingsuch vulgar language from one of her cousins. Danielwould probably have a thousand fits of the vapors if hecould see her now.
He had not slept well all night. And with the sun streaming through his window it was unlikely that he was going to get any more sleep. The Earl of Beaconswood sighed andsat up on the edge of his bed, rubbing has eyes with theheels of his hands and yawning. What he should do was goout for a brisk morning ride to put air into his lungs and energy into his body. Or better still, he should go for a briskwalk.
It was very early, he saw with a grimace when he reached his dressing room. Far too early to summon hisvalet, poor man. He would shave later, he decided, at amore decent hour for sending down for hot water. Hedressed quickly, avoiding his black clothes with reluctance.It did not seem right to be donning a blue coat when hisuncle had died less than two weeks before.
He breathed in deeply when he had let himself out of the house and was standing on the terrace. It was a lovelymorning and certainly the right time to be in the country. Itwould not be a comfortable day to be in town. The smellswould be considerably less pleasant than those here.
And yet, he thought, looking about him uncertain which direction to take for his walk, he would give a great deal tobe in London right now, to be looking forward to seeingBlanche later in the day. Blanche could always be reliedupon to behave with the strictest propriety and to remainsweet and feminine at the same time. He had never evenbeen alone with her, except when driving her in the parkwith all the fashionable world there to act as chaperon.
He made his decision and turned to stride in the direction of the lake. He wished he could just snap his fingers andhave the following month behind him. Not that he wouldnot enjoy the company of his relatives. It was several yearssince he had been with them all together, and he had alwaysbeen fond of them, even of those aunts, uncles, and cousinswho were not strictly speaking close relatives since theybelonged to his late aunt. But he had been brought up tothink of them as close relatives.
As he had been brought up to think of Julia as a cousin. And Julia was the trouble with this whole month, hethought, feeling his jawline tense. Without her he would beable to relax and enjoy himself. But then without her therewould be no necessity for any of them to stay there for themonth.
If ever he wanted to identify the complete opposite of Blanche, he thought, it would be Julia without any hesitation at all. Even physically they were opposites. Blanchewas small and slender and blond. Julia was rather tall withthose long legs of hers—he could still remember seeingthem clad in breeches when she was fifteen—and generously shaped and dark. But in every other way she was different from Blanche too.
He swore out loud when he remembered his feeling on arriving at the lake the evening before to find that Julia andFreddie had been lost along the way—or had lost themselves. It was dark and they were among the trees and shewas with Freddie of all people. Did she not know Freddie’sreputation? Or did she not believe that he could turn thatfatal charm upon her to seduce her? And would she not believe him that Freddie was badly dipped and would grasp atthe opportunity to enrich himself with a wise marriage?
Foolish woman. How could he stand by and watch a member of his family deceive and perhaps debauch awoman whom his uncle had treated as a granddaughter? Hecould not do so. It was as simple as that. Even though sheseemed to know nothing about propriety and decorum.Even though she had been inviting Freddie’s kiss theevening before. He had arrived just in time. He probablywould have planted Freddie a facer too if Stella and Violaand Les had not been close behind him. He had been feeling white with fury.
He had reached the lake and turned to stroll slowly along the bank. He frowned. The fury was strange really, he supposed. What if Freddiehadkissed her? What if he hadcompromised her by keeping her away from the house forfar too long? What if he had therefore been forced intomarrying her? It was what he wanted anyway. And probably what she wanted too. Freddie was undoubtedly the mostpersonable of the five of them, and she did not have thegood sense to care about his character flaws.
Why should he worry about protecting her? From what was she to be protected?
But he was not given a chance to answer his own questions. Someone was swimming out on the lake. Alone. That was a foolish thing to do. One of the servants, he supposed.He almost turned away to walk back in the other directionuntil he looked more closely and noted the slim arms thatrose rhythmically and gracefully from the water. GoodGod, it was a woman. Asking for trouble if any of themenservants happened along. Or perhaps that was what shewas hoping for. He could feel anger rising.
But of course, he thought suddenly, coming to a halt close to the boathouse. Oh, of course. Why had he thoughteven for one moment that that was a servant out there,swimming alone in deep water? The truth was so obviousthat it was almost laughable that it had not jumped at himimmediately. Except that he was not laughing. Anger progressed to fury in one leap.
That was Julia out there! At the same moment as he thought it his eye was caught by her towel lying in the grassclose to the bank not far away and the dress dropped in acareless heap beside it.
Good God! What was she wearing out there? Or what was shenotwearing? His heart felt suddenly as if it wasbeating at double time.
She was swimming with leisurely strokes to shore. His first instinct was to turn and hurry out of sight. But furykept him rooted to the spot. What if it were someone elsewho had wandered to that particular spot to witness what hewas witnessing? What if it were one of the menservants?One of the gardeners? Or one of his cousins? What if itwere Freddie? She would be swimming toward a fate worsethan death.
If he did not throttle her when she had hauled herself out of the water he would deserve a medal for restraint. But hehad never craved medals and did not do so now. He wouldprefer the satisfaction of having his hands about her throatand squeezing.
The Earl of Beaconswood planted his booted feet slightly apart, clasped his hands behind his back, and waited.
6
She set her hands on the bank, drew herself up out of the water, set one knee on the grass and then onefoot, and pulled herself upright—all in one fluid, gracefulmovement.
For one moment he thought she really was naked. But she might as well have been, he thought when he realizedthat she was wearing a shift. It clung to her like a secondskin, leaving nothing at all to the imagination. His mouthwent dry.
She lifted her arms and her face to the sun filtering at a slant through the trees and pressed her hands back over herhair, squeezing the excess water from it behind her head.Then without lowering her head she passed her hands flatdown her body, pressing out some of the moisture. Theybegan at her shoulders and moved downward with spreadfingers over her breasts—full, firm breasts clearly outlinedagainst the soaked fabric—into her small waist, down overshapely hips, down the tops of her long, slim legs.
She could teach the most accomplished of courtesans a thing or two about arousing a man, the earl thought as hestood very still and watched. Though he was not thinkingclearly. His breath caught in his throat and he felt a tightening in his groin. He wanted to touch her. By God, hewanted to touch her. He wanted to circle those magnificentbreasts with his hands. They would be cold to the touch. Hewanted to warm them with his palms. He wanted to pinchthose nipples visible through her shift until they were hardand peaked. He wanted to spread his hands over her hipsand move them over her flat stomach. He wanted to touchher where the wet cotton clung between her legs. Hewanted his hand beneath the fabric. He wanted to touchher....
Probably only seconds had passed since she had set foot on the bank. She shivered and reached down for her towel.But she stopped and stiffened suddenly, her fingers notquite touching it. She raised her head slowly and looked directly at him as he stood in the shadow of the boathouse nomore than twenty feet away. They stared at each other forseveral moments before she grasped the towel, straightenedup unhurriedly, and held it bunched in front of her.
She was the first to break the silence. “Are you enjoying the show?” she asked. “You should have hidden more carefully, Daniel. I usually remove the wet garment before donning the dry one for the return to the house. I am sure youwould have enjoyed watching that.”
Her voice and the usual brittle tone in which she spoke to him broke the spell and he was cold with fury again.Colder. She had made him desire her, by God, just as shehad when she was fifteen years old. Even now she had notcovered herself with the towel. Or dived back into thewater with shame and the need to cling to some shred ofmodesty. She was standing with bare feet planted apart onthe grass, shoulders back, head high. As if he was the onein the wrong.
“Have you no modesty whatsoever?” The viciousness of his tone surprised even himself. “Will you flaunt yourselffor the whole world to see? Will you so carelessly inviteravishment?”
“Modesty?” she said. “I have been bathing—clothed—at six o’clock in the morning. And for the whole world to see?This is a private lake on private land. And ravishment? Isthat what you have in mind, Daniel? Do you want me?”
