Her face was smooth and serene. Almost too smooth.
He opened his mouth to prompt her further, when she hastily changed the topic. “Oh look, Joy really can swim.”
He shaded his eyes. “Of course she can. I taught her myself. Joy, no doggy-swimming!” he called out. “Sometimes she does her hand movements like this,” he rowed his hands in front of him, “When it should be like this.” He spread his arms out wide. “But if you do this,” he imitated the other movement again, “then sooner or later you will go under. I’ve taught quite a few of my comrades to swim. Before Waterloo. I’ve been thinking of inventing a swimming device that works properly, that would be safe for children and for people who are not capable of swimming. I’ve had some ideas. But alas, the material,” he shook his head. “It requires the use of a kind of fibre that floats naturally on water. I have not yet found that material.”
“Mr Merivale. I need to ask you something.” She fixed a pair of anxious eyes on him.
“Anything,” He said. Then cleared his throat. “I mean, supposing it is within a reasonable frame.”
“Do you think you could teach me how to swim?” Her eyes were earnest as they met his. Something stirred deeply inside him. He was moved by the whimsical nature of the request.
“Of course, Miss Weston. Any time.” He heard himself say. “When would you like to start?”
“If you don’t mind. Immediately.”
Chapter 15
She would have to take off her dress. It was highly improper for her employer to see her in her petticoat. She scuffed the toe of her boot in the pebbled sand.
Arabella wrestled with herself for only a moment. Then she made a monumental decision. She could continue being the old Arabella, bred as the duke’s daughter, full of stiff propriety. Or she could throw it all out and embrace the freedom that came with casting aside her old self. She decided that she no longer wanted to have anything to do with the old Arabella.
She stepped under the branches of a weeping willow and pulled off her dress. She hung it over a branch and emerged, with flaming cheeks, in her petticoat.
Philip, however—she’d begun to think of him as Philip, no longer as Mr Merivale—neither seemed to care nor notice what she was wearing. For that she was grateful. He took off his jacket.
And then he’d pulled off his shirt. Arabella almost fanned herself. It was the second time she saw him without a top.
For a moment it looked like he was about to take off his pants, too, but then he didn’t. Thankfully. Or regretfully. Arabella wasn’t sure which one. She now understood why it was considered highly indecent for men to take off their shirts. Interesting how he was so entirely unaware that it was a breach of etiquette of the highest proportion. He’d always blithely ignored all rules of propriety, it was part of who he was. A man never took off items of clothing in the presence of a lady. It was unthinkable.
Then he taught her how to swim.
In her petticoats.
“You can do this, Miss Weston,” he’d said cheerfully, as he moved further and further away from her and she scrambled to reach him. “Remember the arm movements.” It wasn’t easy attempting to swim when her petticoats clung to her legs. He was a hard teacher. With him, there were no gentle introductions. He’d led her to the deepest part of the lake, and it was literally, swim or drown.
And then, miraculously, she did it.
She swam.
Katy, Robin, and Joy swam next to her, cheering her on.
She could swim! She could really, truly swi—
And then her foot got tangled up in some seaweed, and she sank under water.
Philip pulled her out, and the odious man was laughing as she spluttered. “Good job, Miss Weston. Good job.”
He helped her to the shore. His warm hand on her arm lingered, and it tingled all the way to her toes. He’d opened his lips to say something, but they just remained half open.
She noticed he not only had brilliant eyes but also full, sensitive lips. She couldn’t tear her gaze away.
Then he blinked, cleared his throat, dropped his hands, and turned away.
“Let’s make a fire. I told Peggy to bring towels and a basket with some things to eat.”
She changed back to her dry dress and left her wet petticoat hanging on a branch to dry. When she emerged from behind the tree, she saw Peggy arranging a blanket on the ground and setting out plates with fruit and cheese. Arabella’s stomach growled.
Philip and Robin built a fire. Katy handed her a stick. “We’re having stick bread for dinner,” she explained.
