“That’s your cloak and your shoes on that rock over there, isn’t it?” He pointed over her shoulder, then held up the towel she’d handed him. “And another towel?”
Really, what could she say? That he’d been determined to save her, and since he was as big as a horse and twice as strong, there’d been little she could do to stop him? That his perfectly executed, daring rescue was entirely unnecessary? “Well yes, but—”
“Ah.” The blue eyes glinted with humor. “You came out for a swim, didn’t you?”
Lucy fidgeted with the skirt of her bathing costume. “Perhaps I did, but—”
“Tell me, lass. Are you a strong swimmer?”
She loosened her grip on her skirt and met his knowing blue eyes. “Yes, but even a strong swimmer—”
“Even a strong swimmer can drown in the pounding surf? Is that what you were going to say?”
“Well, yes.”
“Aye, that’s one explanation. The other is you weren’t drowning at all.” He toyed with the towel, running it through his fist. “So, which is it, lass? Were you one gasp away from sinking to a watery grave, or is there some other explanation for my broken nose?”
Chapter Two
“You just told me it isn’t broken.” Wide, dark brown eyes narrowed suspiciously on his face, drops of water still clinging to her eyelashes. “Is it, or isn’t it?”
Ciaran choked back a laugh. “Forgive me, ma’am. I should have asked if there’s some other explanation for my unbroken but severely injured nose.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and waited while she decided whether or not to continue with her lie. They both knew he’d caught her out, but he could see she was considering carrying on with it, just the same.
Dogged, daft little lass, wasn’t she?
He couldn’t decide if he was impressed by her persistence, or offended she thought his male ego was too fragile to bear the truth. He knew one thing, though. After that tale she’d just told about the pounding surf dragging her out to sea by a single toe, he was eager to hear what she’d say next.
The slight quiver of anticipation in his stomach felt odd. Damned if he could remember when he’d last looked forward to anything with even a flicker of interest. If he’d resisted this trip to Brighton with half as much enthusiasm, he wouldn’t be here now. “Well, lass? Which is it? A morning swim, or a near drowning?”
She bit her lip and cast him a measuring look from under her damp lashes. “It depends.”
Ciaran didn’t know whether it was the lady, the blood loss, or the shock of cold water so early in the morning, but a rusty laugh knocked loose from his chest. “On what?”
“On whether your nose is actually broken or not.”
Ciaran wriggled his nose a bit. It bloody well felt like it, but he hadn’t heard the telltale crack. No crack meant no break, but he wasn’t going to admit that toher. Not yet, anyway. “It’s difficult to say. Now I think on it, I may have heard a bone snap when you kicked me. Ithastaken a beating. It’s bruised, and likely to swell.”
“Swell?” Her brows drew together in a guilty frown. “Do you think so?”
Ciaran hastily stuffed the towel back into his face, and made a great show of holding it there and looking as pitiful as possible. “Yes. No doubt it will swell to three times its size and turn black and blue.”
“Oh, dear.” She winced. “Is it terribly painful?”
“Aye. The nose is a sensitive organ, lass, and that was a vicious blow you dealt me.” Ciaran hid his grin behind the towel. “The worst of it is I’ll certainly have to wear a plaster on it. The gentlemen will laugh at me, and the ladies will refuse to dance with me at the assemblies.”
“Surely people won’t be as cruel as that?” She wrung her hands. “Why, you saved a lady in distress. Your actions were heroic—”
“Were they?” He lowered the towel and took a step toward her. “Because I’ve an idea I saved you from nothing worse than your morning swim. Come now, lass. Tell the truth.”
She raised her chin. “You believed I was in distress and you risked your own safety to rescue me. The truth is, it doesn’t matter one whit whether or not I was frolicking in the waves or drowning. Either way, you behaved like a noble gentleman.”
Ciaran raised an eyebrow at this passionate speech. “I’ll have the truth between us just the same, if you don’t mind.”
She threw her hands into the air. “Oh, very well, if you must. I wasn’t one gasp away from succumbing to a watery grave, as you put it. But if anyone has the nerve to laugh at your plaster, I’ll tell them I was.”
This time Ciaran gave in to his amusement, throwing his head back with a hearty laugh. “That’s generous, but if I were you, I wouldn’t tell a soul about this.”
