He was going to bathe in the ocean. It was a dreadful thing to do, because the ocean water was always cold andthere were always waves and breakers to take one unawares. He was just asking to catch a chill. He was so verymuch better—full of new strength and vigor, slender stillbut no longer painfully thin. But there was no point intempting fate.
She told him all that and more until she was afraid of sounding like a nagging wife and he grabbed her and kissedher soundly and told her that was the only treatment a scolddeserved. And he laughed at her—he dared to do that—hiseyes sparkling with merriment and affection.
He took three large towels with him. She went, too, but she made it perfectly clear that he was to get no fancy ideas.Why did he needthreetowels? He bent his head and kissedher when they were still well within sight of the house andany servants who happened to be looking after them.
“Because I did not think I would need five,” he said.
Sometimes he talked such nonsense. “Thank you, sir,”she said. “I should have thought of that for myself.”
They were going to walk along the beach and around the headland so that they would be out of sight of prying eyes.The tide was out again and it was possible to walk past theheadland.
“It is the best place to go, then,” she told him. “Only I will see your foolishness.”
He laughed at her again. And then he grew serious. She could feel his eyes on her. “Adèle,” he said, “I am goingto tell you something. A story. A true story. It is the strangest, most bizarre thing you will have ever heard and youmay well have me carted off to Bedlam when you haveheard it. But I have decided that you should know—thateverything I know you should know too.”
He was going to make a confession. He was going to tell her about all the whores and mistresses he had ever had.So that he could clear his conscience and lay the burden ofknowledge on her shoulders. She did not want to hear it.
“No,” he said gently, squeezing her hand. “It is not that kind of story, love. It is the explanation of how this miraclehappened. I know, you see. I know the how. I do not knowthe why. I think you have something to do with that. Yourunfailing love, your devotion, your willingness to accept uncomplainingly whatever of life was offered you. But you can be the judge of that.”
He knew how the miracle had happened? Had he been taking some strange new medicine that she had not seenand knew nothing of? She looked at him with eager inquiry.“Tell me,” she said.
“After the swim,” he said. “We will lie quietly on the beach and I will tell you.”
She hated having her curiosity piqued and not satisfied. But it was something important. He wanted the moment tobe right.
Finally they reached a point on the beach at which they could not be seen either from the house or from the road.He dropped the towels and began to undress, looking outwith narrowed eyes to the water. It was a hot day. Eventhe breeze off the ocean was warm. She watched him stripdown to his long drawers. Lean. That was how he lookednow. Lean and healthy and handsome.
“You like looking at me?” he asked.
Despite herself she blushed. But she looked steadily back into his eyes. “Yes,” she said. “Very much.”
“I like looking at you too,” he said.
The look in his eyes alerted her and she took a hasty step back. “No ideas, I said,” she told him, holding outone staying hand.
But he was laughing and stepped easily past her defenses. Her bonnet went first and her hairpins, then her dress, andthen her slippers and stockings. She was standing on theopen beach in just her shift.
“John,” she said, shocked.
“Much better,” he said, looking at her.
“I shall sit here and watch you,” she said hastily, trying to suit action to words. “I shall wrap—”
But she had suddenly lost contact with the warm sand of the beach. He had swung her up into his arms and wasgrinning at her like—oh, like a foolish, immature schoolboy.
“John,” she scolded as he turned and set off for the water, “put me down. You are not strong enough. Oh, youwill not be content until you have done yourself an injury,will you?”
His feet were splashing in water. She felt one stray drop on her bare leg. It felt like a droplet of ice.
“John.” She clung more tightly. “Don’t. It is like ice. This is most indecent. You talked of forfeits once. Let mepay a forfeit. What would you like? A kiss?” She wasdesperate for him to take her seriously, though the effectof her plea was marred somewhat, she had to admit, by thefact that she was giggling helplessly.
“I would not let you fall in the water, my love,” he said when he was waist-deep and had to hold her higher. “Trustme.” He grinned into her face. “Kiss me.”
She did so.
“Of course,” he said, “you have been right all along. I do not have nearly as much strength as I thought I had.”
Concern was just beginning to register on her face and on her mind when he dropped her. He was laughing likean imbecile when she came up gasping and sputtering andcoughing. She found her footing with difficulty and wentstraight to the attack. The first great spray of water tookhim full in the face. She would have laughed with glee ifshe had finished mastering the shock of the cold. Insteadshe threw herself backward on the water and swam awayfrom him.
