“If you swim in the sea like a fish,” he said, “you must prepare to be caught upon a man’s pole.”
Thinking himself rather clever —especially as his cock was stiffer than a fishing pole, more like a flag pole! —his remark was met with a rolling of her eyes.
“You must give me your coat at least.”
“Sadly, my coat will cover your sweet arse,” he said, “but not the front of you.”
And as the water level dropped, he could see more and more of her, including a trim waist and the flare of her hips. She was quite glorious, but he didn’t want the rest of Brighton getting an eyeful.
Looking around the cabin, he saw the infernal felt bathing dress floating nearby.
“Put this on again.” Before she could protest, he tugged it over her head and helped her get her arms into the long sleeves.”
“Oh!”she yelped.
“What is it?” He had probably tugged her hair by mistake.
“I felt something brush against my ankle.”
That gave him pause, but he said, “Nonsense!”
A moment later, he thought he felt something graze his leg, too.
“I think we should get out of here and not wait for them to drag us up the beach. With all this heavy water, it will take them forever.”
Turning in the small space, he ordered her, “Take a deep breath,” and then put his hand on the top of her wet head. Quickly ducking her under the sideways door, he gave her a shove ahead of him before following. Both of them only had to be under the water for a few seconds.
He swam toward shore, tugging her along while she kicked and flailed her hands, until he could get his feet under him.
“You can stand now, Miss Talbot,” he advised, but she seemed incapable of hearing him and continued to thrash. Sighing, he bent down and tried to lift her, thinking it an extremely chivalrous thing to do. He would be a hero, indeed, if he carried her from the water.
’Zounds!A wet woman in an ugly felt bathing dress was heavy! Of course, the ugliness of the garment had nothing to do with it, but it added to the general unpleasantness of the whole experience, as far as he was concerned.
Eventually, he managed to help her to her feet, and they walked out of the sea with his arm around her waist. Away from the water, he lowered her to the pebbly sand where she closed her eyes and breathed hard.
“Shall I perform artificial respiration?” asked a man whom James knew to be Lord Dodd. “Mouth-to-mouth,” he added, “as recommended by the Paris Academy of Sciences, eh, wot-wot?”
Before James could answer, a dipper chimed in.
“Just toss her onto one of these horses, stomach down, her limbs a-hanging. Run it along the beach, and she’ll be breathing in no time.”
Miss Talbot’s eyes popped open at hearing those words, and then she sat up.
A few people cheered.
Gazing up at James, she said, “Take me away from here, please.”
He nodded, and pulled her to her feet. A few more people cheered.
“I hope I will still see you at the dance tonight, Miss Talbot,” Lord Dodd said, and James was ready to send him flying with a punch to the nose.
“If the lady is up to it,” he said. Undoubtedly, irritation had taken hold of him due to the impossibly uncomfortable sensation of wet hose, shoes, pants and everything else. He longed to strip it all off.
“Let’s go,” he said to her, thinking Miss Talbot’s complexion looked good all things considering, but she was still shivering. He thought to remove his wet coat to drape around her, but that was senseless.
Instead, with her arm tucked under his, he started across the beach.
“My gown!” she suddenly exclaimed. “I was going to gather all my lost clothes, but you shoved me out of the bathing machine.”
