Without releasing her hold on the tree, she turned and looked over her shoulder, shooting him a grin that seemed to squeeze his heart.
“Perfect timing,” she declared. “Can you give me a boost? Make your hands into a stirrup for me, will you? These boots aren’t made for climbing so much as for mud puddles and stomping about.”
Was she insane?
“Are you mad? No, I will not help you into a tree so you can fall to your death in the river. Release the branch at once.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly.” And he stepped forward, reaching up and disengaging her hands. “Look at your gloves, soaked and filthy.” He still held her hands but turned them palm up for her inspection.
She did look down at them, then back at him. “You sound like a fussy old woman.”
Ouch!
She yanked her hands free.
“Do you really think I would scoot out to the end of the branchoverthe river?”
“Well, I…I don’t know what you might do.”
She rolled her eyes. “I am not George or Iris,” she protested, mentioning two of the youngest Angsleys. “I was simply going to sit right here in the crook of the branch, safely cradled as only a tree can do, and watch.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, drawing his eyes there, though everything interesting was hidden by her cloak.
“Quietly and alone,” she added.
His gaze flew back up to hers.
“I see. My apologies, then. You’re right. I should have known better. You’ve always handled nature very responsibly.”
He looked around. “I bet the view is very good from up there, but I think we need to go up one more branch at least.”
“We?” she repeated.
“Yes, I’ll give you a hand up if you let me enter your tree paradise with you.”
She smiled, and it was breathtaking. He knew at once he was going to fall hard in an irrevocable and forever way for Eleanor if he so much as even cracked open the door to his heart.
He had a notion it was already too late.
Then she did something entirely inappropriate yet perfectly sensible. She tossed open her cloak to reveal an ordinary day gown, and she reached between her legs to grab the hem at the back. This, she pulled up, and easily tucked into the waistband of her skirt, creating a pantaloon effect.
If her mother, Lady Blackwood, could see her, Gray knew she would be scandalized.
He grinned. “Good idea. That will make it much easier.” On the other hand, he could see a portion of her stockinged legs, only a few inches though, because her boots came up nearly to her kneecaps.
“I should have worn my riding habit though, honestly, it doesn’t make me feel any more able to muck about.”
It would have been a good idea as the skirts were much fuller for draping over the pommel and the jumping head. As easily as riding in a saddle, she could have climbed the tree. Today, however, she would have to make do with his help.
Bending, he clasped his hands together and made a stirrup as she’d suggested. She hesitated only an instant before stepping onto his palms and attaining the first branch. His hands were now filthy and got more so as he scrabbled up beside her.
“You were right,” she said. “We need to go one higher.”
If they were going to do this harebrained plan, he would go up first and then help her to follow. Thus, by way of his climbing and then pulling her up as she needed, they went up two more branches.
“Oh, this is perfect,” Eleanor exclaimed as she sat in front of him with a leg dangling down on either side of the branch and balanced between his legs so he could steady her.
