“Come, Eloisa. You don’t have to swim. You can paddle about in the shallow part. I won’t let you drift out to sea. I promise. Not that there’s much chance of that in this secluded little cove.”
The look that flashed across Eloisa’s face this time was three parts affection, and two parts exasperation. “You’re a regular hoyden, Lucy.”
Lucy shrugged. If a chance to swim unencumbered made her a hoyden, then so be it. “Please come in, Eloisa. It won’t be any fun without you.”
Eloisa’s face softened. “Your father did you a grave disservice, Lucy, letting you run wild as he did, but you’ve a good heart, for all that.”
Lucy choked back a laugh. Run wild? She couldn’t remember the last time her father had permitted her to run at all, wild or otherwise. By the end he’d hardly suffered her to stir out of doors at all, even for a stroll in the gardens.
“I’m not one to speak ill of the dead, and perhaps the less said about your father the better,” Eloisa went on, “But he wasn’t well.”
The laugh died in Lucy’s throat. No, he hadn’t been well, but he’d been a loving father for all his flaws and freakish whims, and that was how she chose to remember him. There didn’t seem to be much sense in arguing about it now, however. Eloisa had made her mind up about Lucy’s father years ago, along with the rest of England.
“If we continue to stand about like this, we’ll lose our chance.” Lucy loosened the tie at the neck of her cloak, tugged it off, and tossed it down on the rock next to the towels.
When Eloisa caught sight of the dark blue linen bathing costume Lucy wore under her cloak, her face paled. “Oh, Lucy! You can’t really mean to do this? Someone will see you, and it will cause a scandal!”
Lucy sighed. Everything caused a scandal, it seemed. “Why should it? I’m wearing a bathing costume, for heaven’s sake.” It was prickly as a hedgehog, too. “Though I don’t see why the ladies must be bundled up in scratchy linen when the gentlemen are permitted to swim about nak—”
“Lucy! I will not stand here and listen to you talk about gentlemen who are…gentlemen without their…unclothed gentlemen. It’s not proper.”
Lucy was tempted to laugh at Eloisa’s prudery, but then Eloisa would get into a snit, and Lucy would never be able to coax her into the water. “Then let’s not stand here at all. Are you coming in?”
Eloisa glanced at the water again, hesitating. Lucy waited, hope surging at her cousin’s longing look, but then Eloisa’s teeth sank into her lower lip and she shook her head. “No. I’ll go in later this afternoon, the proper way. I should never have let you lure me into this mad scheme in the first place.”
Lucy’s heart sank. Her childhood had been a lonely one, and she’d always longed for a sibling. When she found she had a cousin only a few years younger than she was, she’d dreamed they’d grow to love each other like sisters. But at eighteen years of age, Eloisa behaved as if she were already an old maid. She was prim and cautious, whereas Lucy was…
A hoyden? Perhaps, but there were worse things one could be.
A recluse, for instance.
She was twenty years old. Twenty years, and she’d hardly set foot beyond her father’s estate for the last four of them. So far, she’d seen little else since they left Devon aside from the inside of a cramped coach, and the row of graying teeth at the back of Uncle Jarvis’s gaping mouth each time he released a deafening snore.
Now, by some miracle she was here, mere steps away from the ocean.
After years spent wandering the halls of a dusty house with no one but her father and the servants to talk to, new adventures had at last presented themselves. Lucy intended to seize them with both hands.
But perhaps it was for the best if Eloisa didn’t join her. Despite all her planning, Lucy couldn’t be certain no one would see them. Risk couldn’t be entirely eliminated—that was what made this an adventure. If they did get caught, Eloisa would suffer for it far more than Lucy would.
After all, Uncle Jarvis wasn’therfather.
Lucy seated herself on the rock and kicked off her shoes. “Very well. You may as well go back then, before someone sees you. I’ll follow soon.”
Eloisa looked ready to scurry away that instant, but she hesitated. “Are you sure? If the water should become rough—”
Lucy waved a hand toward their villa. It was close enough to the slice of secluded beach Eloisa might be able to see her from their bedchamber window. “Watch me then, if you like, but it’s all right, Eloisa. I’ll be careful, and I won’t go far.”
“If anyone should ask for you, I’ll tell them you haven’t risen yet,” Eloisa said, anxious now to be helpful.
“Fine. I’ll return within the hour.” Lucy didn’t wait for Eloisa’s response, but picked her way over the sand in her bare feet, her bathing costume flapping around her shins. She closed her eyes and sucked in a quick breath when her toes touched the cold water. When she opened them again and turned around, Eloisa was gone.
Lucy moved forward until the gentle waves rose to her knees, then her waist, and then in one dive she went head first into the water. She kicked her legs until she was close enough to the bottom to grab a handful of sand in her fist. The water wasn’t deep, but deep enough when she was upright her feet dangled into a void. Water surrounded her on all sides, a flowing, surging cocoon. The cold waves caressed her skin, leaving a spray of sparkling wet goose bumps in their wake.
When she broke the surface the second time, a shout of sheer joy burst from her lips.
She’d been quiet all her life, it seemed, but now her cry echoed in the clear silence of the morning. Exhilaration shot down her spine and stole her breath for a moment, but in the next instant she filled her lungs and dove under again. She pushed against the gentle current, each strong stroke taking her farther away from the beach. Her limbs burned with restless energy, and she went under again and again, surfacing only to grab a few breaths before she plunged again, making a game out of diving deep enough to touch the sandy bottom with her fingertips.
When she surfaced at last, she swept the wet hair from her eyes and tipped over onto her back for a long, lazy float, her gaze fixed on the rosy sky above her. The sun had just crested the horizon. She’d have to go soon, but goodness, how delicious it felt to be in the outdoors, to spread her arms wide and feel the silky glide of the water against her back.
