“You’ll turn to stone if you don’t wed soon,” June teased.
“We have the Duke of Stone in our midst, and he is doing quite well,” August argued.
April laughed and glanced at her husband, who was seated beside their father. “The Duke of Stone is quite married. You’llhave to start making formal introductions to your cravat at this rate.”
Theo gave her a small smile while August turned to appeal to Albert, who was reclining in a chair with his face tipped toward the sun. “Father, some assistance?”
“I am retired from all such discussions,” Albert replied without opening his eyes. “Speak to your mother if you need sympathy.”
August turned to Theo next, raising one brow. Theo only shrugged. “You will leave me to the wolves, Stone?”
“The wolves are you sisters.”
“To escape this assault,” August said, straightening his cuffs with exaggerated dignity, “I shall point you all toward the sea. The wagons await. Go splash about and leave your decrepit brother in peace.”
“Come along, then,” Dorothy said, rallying the girls. “Our bathing wagons are waiting.”
They made their way toward the waiting wagons, giggling and clutching their shawls. April lingered behind, eyes on the water. Doubt still crept in, soft and sly, like seaweed twining around her ankles. She had not forgotten what Loretta said at the ball: the warnings dressed as barbs, the insinuations stitched into each compliment.
But Brighton had lifted her spirits in ways she hadn’t expected. Theo had done nothing to give her cause to question his loyalty. He had only been patient, thoughtful, and tender in his quiet way. Every time doubts Loretta had sown curled near, it was as if his nearness simply… banished it.
Perhaps this is what trust feels like. Not certainty but the willingness to push the shadows away.
Theo stepped beside her and offered his hand. “Come, darling. Let us brave the waves together.”
She hesitated. “Do we really need to bathe in it?”
“Not so much bathe,” he said, leading her gently down the boards. “More of a ceremonial dip.”
“Ceremonial terror,” she murmured.
He leaned close as they approached the wagon. “Did I ever tell you about the time I attempted to row across the Thames using nothing but an oar and a borrowed washtub?”
She blinked. “You did not!”
“Ah, well. Then I’m only just getting started.”
Their wagon stood waiting, painted pale blue and fitted with curtains. Inside, they faced away from one another to change.Her bathing dress, made of dark wool and fitted with modest ruffles and puffed sleeves, was not the most flattering garment she’d worn, but it did its job. As she adjusted the fastenings, she caught a glimpse of Theo through the mirror set into the panel. He was fastening his braces over a white shirt, stripped of his coat and waistcoat, and for a moment, she forgot her nerves entirely.
He looks entirely too handsome for sea-bathing.
“Ready?” he asked, tugging his sleeves down.
She turned and nodded, her cheeks warm. “Ready.”
They sat together on the cushioned bench, the wagon beginning its slow roll toward the sea. April reached out and steadied herself with one hand against the wall.
The sea wind carried the scent of salt and brine as the wagon bumped forward, and April fought the urge to tell the driver to turn around. Her gaze shifted to Theo, who appeared perfectly at ease.
“Would you like me to tell you how August and I once convinced an entire dormitory at Eton that the headmaster’s cat could read Latin?”
April blinked. “What?”
He gave a modest shrug. “It involved a great deal of meowing and a cleverly hidden copy ofDe Bello Gallico. The cat sat on it, and we claimed divine scholarship.”
She laughed despite herself. “You are wicked.”
“Only mildly. Would you like to hear about the incident with the bell tower and six wheels of cheese?”
