“Will you be at the Castle Hotel assembly room tonight?” Lord Dodd asked.
A shiver went through her, perhaps because he seemed genuinely interested, perhaps because her blood had frozen in her veins.
“Yes, most assuredly I shall.”
He offered her his hand to help her up the steps to the open back door of her bathing machine. No gloves, simply wet bare fingers against wet bare fingers.How thrilling!
“Thank you for the lesson.”
“Perhaps we shall swim again, Miss Talbot. Or at least have a dance tonight.”
“I would like that. I will see you later, my lord.”
She closed the door and was plunged into darkness until her eyes grew accustomed.First things first,she told herself, yanking the string that caused the flag on top of the bathing machine to rise, indicating she was ready to be pulled in. It came away in her hand.
Drats!
To be sure the flag hadn’t been raised, she opened the backdoor again and tried to see the roof, but she feared she couldn’t without descending into the water and paddling away from the hut.
Not liking that option, especially given the thunderclouds on the horizon and the size of the waves now coming toward her, Glynnis popped back inside and opened the front door A flurry of activity upon the shore caught her eyes.
Two horses were taking turns bringing in each bather, and she was last in the line of machines, so she would simply have to wait. They seemed to be moving quickly and getting people to shore in a hurry. Surely, after the one next to her was taken, hers would be next, flag or no flag.
Seeing Hargrove, she gave him a jaunty wave and closed the door. Despite the waves now rocking the little hut, Glynnis began changing out of her wet dress. First, she removed the cap, displeased to find her hair was actually wet. Taking a moment to squeeze it out, so it wouldn’t drip on her gown, next she whipped the felt bathing dress up and over her head.
Already shivering, she worked quickly, dragging her bag off the shelf and opening it. Sure enough, her clothing had not a drop of seawater on it. Feeling pleased and looking forward to being dry and warm, she lay everything on the small bench and had just started to draw on a stocking when a wave crashed against the back steps. Glancing out the door she’d left open for the light it provided, she could see how choppy and gray the sea had become. A shard of alarm sliced through her.
Luckily, she could hear and then felt a horse being harnessed to the front of her bathing machine. Another wave came over the narrow rungs of the steps, and this time flooded the interior covering her feet.
“Oh, bother,” she said, as one of her stockings was now soaked. Recognizing the good sense of the Brighton bathing machine’s architect in making the back door open inward, instead of having to lean out, Glynnis had only to give the door a shove and it closed. Quickly, she latched it and, feeling secure, began to draw on her other stocking.
A moment later, however, the sea rushed in under the door and flooded the little hut up to her ankles.
“Blast it all!” she exclaimed. At the same time, she was relieved to feel the hut in motion.
Then too many things happened at once for her to comprehend. She heard a booming clap of thunder that made her jump. A man shouted. The front end of the bathing machine lifted, and she knew at once the horse had spooked. Then the hut turned sideways to the shore.
In the next instant, one of the large wheels either went down a rut, snapped, or perhaps it encountered one of the infernal small boulders the dippers claimed weremere pebbles. In any case, one side of her bathing machine lurched lower than the other, and she was flung against the wall while seawater seeped in.
