What made him fearful was that Ariadne was wading in the deepest end of the pond, where she would soon dip at least four feet. He had no idea if she could swim, but he didn’t care.
“Your Grace!” Hunt shouted, “Please, come out. Let one of us get the cat.”
Ariadne ignored him.
“Your Grace?—”
He was shucking off his jacket and running just as Ariadne grasped the kitten—and vanished under the surface.
Curing that he was five seconds away—five seconds that could kill her—he flung himself into the deep end and dove into the icy pond and, grabbing Ariadne around her waist, towed her back to land.
She was holding the ball of lint as if it were a bag of gold and highwaymen were around the corner. By the time they got to shore, she was drenched to her skin and he was not any better.
“Ariadne.” He growled as he carried her past the footmen. “What on earth were you thinking?”
“When I saw h-h-him —” her teeth started to chatter “—he w-w-wasn’t that far out. He saw m-me trying to get him, and he ran.”
“And you decide to drown yourself to get it?” he demanded, before he told a maid to have a bath ready for them as soon as possible.
“I-I—” she held the mewling furball tight as he entered the house and “I c-couldn’t let him perish.”
He let out an aggravated breath. “Not at the risk of you perishing? Are you not aware that you have an army of men who can swim and who could have saved the runt on your behalf?”
He took the stairs and carried her to her to his room and set her on her feet. The jarring texture of her rough dress and her wet skin irked him a bit before he plucked the fistful of claws from her and looked around to find somewhere to put it.
Not since Emily was a babe had he had something small in his hands.
“I’ll make him a bed,” Ariadne said before ducking into her room, and while he glared at the cat, he noticed something. One paw had six toes and a jutting appendage; he could only associate it with a thumb.
Ariadne returned with a pile of towels and made a bed in the corner with most of them before wrapping the kitten up in one and putting it on the bed.
A knock on the door had her turning, “Enter?”
Hunt came in, his expression blank like a slate. “Your water is ready.”
She scooped up the kitten and handed it to the butler, “Give him some food and water. Whatever scraps you have on hand.”
Hunt took the kitten as if he were cradling a bomb, holding it at arm’s length, only pausing to give Cedric a raised eyebrow as he left the room.
“Bath. Now.” He grunted while heading to the bathroom. “Between the trip to Manchester and fishing you out of the pond, I'm starved, cold, and in need of a hot bath.” Removing his shirt, he let it drop on the floor with a wet splat. “And not necessarily in that order.”
He tugged his cravat away and disrobed with inelegant haste. The layers fell to the ground as he carelessly shed them.
The overlarge tub sat in the middle of the room, and he wanted to get into it as quickly as possible. Striding to Ariadne, he began to work on the laces at the back of her dress. He peeled her layers away as one plucked the petals of a rose, and when she was down to her chemise, he whisked that away too.
“Get in the tub,” he ordered.
Sinking into the inviting water, Ariadne felt relief wash through her and the welcome heat. Moreover, a fire was in the room, warming it and imbuing it with a cozy glow.
Cedric was working on the last part of his clothes, pulling his boots away and dropping them with a thunk before he undid the fall in his trousers, pushed them down, taking his smallclothes with them.
His hard-paved chest and torso looked deliciously out of place against the faded floral wallpaper. The sleek muscles of his hairy thighs flexed, his male equipment swaying as he lowered himself into the tub behind her.
“Ah, that's better,” he sighed, leaning back against the lip and pulling her onto his chest. “By god, this helps.”
Her pulse unsteady, Ariadne let herself sag against his chest and allowed herself to revel in another first with him. Little by little, she allowed herself to lean into his touch while his arms lay on the edges of the tub.
His male member was against his thigh but quiescent. When he spoke, his tone held a note of authority that sent gooseflesh rippling over her skin. “Ariadne, do not do such a foolish thing again.”
