April was haunted by jealousy of all things. The thought echoed louder each time she tried to close her eyes. She sat up in bed, tossing the covers aside as restlessness pressed in on her.
Her thoughts, jagged and scattered, clung to Loretta’s voice, her insinuations, and the confidence with which she spoke of Theo’s past affection. Of her own allure.
April wrapped herself in her cloak and left her chambers, the silence of the manor deafening. She walked the hallway, the tap of her slippers echoing against marble. Her heart thudded in her chest.I should not be out. This is folly. But I cannot lie still and let her voice echo in my skull.
She took a turn and followed the hallway down toward the gardens. The darkness greeted her like a blanket, moonlight spreading faint silver over stone and grass. She inhaled deeply, hoping the night air would calm her. As she neared the pond, her steps slowed. She hesitated.I should turn back.
But pride pushed her forward.It is only water. I can walk beside it. I am not a child.
The surface of the pond rippled in the faint breeze. Shadows clung to its edges like secrets. April stepped carefully, her arms wrapped around her waist.Foolish to come this way. Foolish to come out at all. But even more foolish to let her unnerve me.
A faint rustle behind her made her pause. She turned, scanning the path she’d come. Nothing.
It is only the wind. Stop being fanciful.
Still, her breath came quicker. She quickened her steps. The air felt colder. Heavier.
Then asharp shove came, and she stumbled forward with a gasp, her arms flailing. The edge vanished beneath her feet, and icy shock enveloped her.
Water closed over her head.
She could not breathe. She could not swim.
Panic clawed up her throat as she thrashed wildly, screaming, her limbs heavy, her skirts pulling her under. She swallowed water, choking, coughing beneath the surface. Her mind reeled.I am going to die.
And I have not even kissed my husband.
The water blurred everything. Light. Sound. Hope.
Thirty
The scream tore through the night, high and sharp.April!Theo dropped the glass of brandy in his hand. It shattered against the study floor, amber liquid spilling in a wide arc. He didn’t stop to curse or question. He turned sharply toward the open study window as another scream came.
He leaped out the window and sprinted toward the pond, his heart hammering in his chest.
He saw the ripples first. Then her.
She was flailing, her arms barely breaking the surface. Hair slicked against her face, she coughed and sank, only to kick again, desperate. Without thinking, he dove.
The water closed around him like a shroud, cold and deep. He fought against it, surging forward until he reached her. She fought him blindly, panic driving her limbs in every direction.
He caught her waist and locked an arm across her chest, turning her body toward the bank as he kicked hard. She was heavier than she should have been—her cloak was sodden and clinging.
He dragged her to the shore, gasping, lifting her from the water with effort. She was coughing, spitting out pond water, shivering violently.
“April, it’s me. It’s Theo. You are safe. I have you.”
She didn’t answer. Her fingers clutched at him unconsciously.
He yanked the cloak from her shoulders, tossed it aside, and gathered her into his arms. Her head lolled against his shoulder as he strode back toward the manor, barking for Mrs. Maple the moment he entered.
In his chambers, he knelt before the hearth and laid her down gently. He tore the bedclothes from the mattress and wrapped them tightly around her shivering form. Then he sat, pulled her against his chest, and held her.
“April,” he said softly, adjusting the blanket. “Tell me what happened.”
She shivered. “I slipped.”
He leaned back slightly and framed her face with his hands. “Look at me. Tell me the truth.”
