“Oh dear,” Dani breathed, turning her head the other way.
“Are you laughing at me?” he teased.
“No, Captain. It’s not me.” He kissed her ear, and she began lightly to kick.
“What?” he whispered.
“Wait. Captain—stop. Look.”
“Why are you kick—? Ouch!”
“On the shore. Look, look, look. We are...” A deep breath. “. . . not alone.”
The captain froze. He turned his head. She heard muffled profanity and he dropped his forehead against hers with eyes closed. He tried to catch his breath. Dani giggled.
After a long, labored moment, he whispered, “This is why I wanted a chaperone. This would not have happened if Fernsby and Miss Bloom had been here. I’m sorry.”
“There is nothing for which to be sorry,” she said.
“I’m sprawled atop you, soaking wet, on the edge of a bog.”
“It’s not a bog.”
“A marsh.”
“It’s not a marsh.”
“A swamp, then.”
“We are at Beckley Pond,” she told him. “I’d wager no spot is more secluded in all of Ivy Hill. Those are Old Man Beckley’s great-grandsons. Seclusion is no match for little boys, I’m afraid.”
“Unmatched, are they?” He rose up, balancing himself on his elbows. “Lucky buggers; their discovery will make them rich.”
“Rich?”
“Well, I can hardly threaten them. They’ll have to be bribed.” He dropped a quick kiss on her lips, made a noise of regret—sort of a half growl—and vaulted up. The cold set in immediately, and Dani shivered. The white sky was too bright. The beach beneath her felt less romantic and more like wet sand. Worst of all, everything about which she’d stopped thinking came rushing back. Miriam and Whittle and their lies of omission, the betrothal, her alleged Frenchness, which said nothing of her alleged royalty. Her shivers turned to quakes.
“It’s not their fault they stumbled upon us,” he was saying, “but their gossip will do us no favors. I don’t care what is said about me, but I’ll not have you maligned.” He turned to adjust his clothing. “They’ll not be cheap, as I’m certain we’re the most fascinating thing they’ve ever come upon whilst fishing. Have they recognized you, do you think?”
“I can’t see their faces. Possibly.”
“Either way, everyone has a price. I’ll send them on their way with pockets full. Then, I’ll swim for the boat. After that, I’ll fetch you from this island. Will you be alright for ten minutes?”
“Yes.”
He turned back. “Danielle?”
She pushed up on her elbows. “Yes?”
He hesitated, shook his head, said nothing. He opened and closed his hands at his sides, he wiggled his fingers, but he did not reach for her. His expression was cautious, and repentant, and a little afraid.
“Yes?” she repeated.
He shook his head again and she let out a shivery sigh.
“I can manage,” she told him and looked away. She did not want him to be cautious, and repentant, and afraid. She wanted him to be bold and eager. She wanted him to want her, despite the complicated circumstances that brought them together. The betrothal. The mansion. Her heritage, whatever it was.
Of all the things Dani wanted in that moment—beginning with dry clothes and ending with clarity from her parents—his desire for her should matter the least. She knew this. And yet—
