Page 25 of Seducing the Marquess (Lords and Ladies in Love 1)

The game proceeded with Eugenia using every opportunity to fluster her husband. Slight touches, looks, and brushing up alongside him seemed to keep the poor man off-balance and constantly missing his shots.

Her happy heart danced a cotillion.

They joined the rest of the party, Eugenia noting she did not feel fatigued at all. In fact, she would describe her spirits as quite exuberant. Another myth dispelled.

Shortly after the guests enjoyed a lunch of lobster patties, chicken pudding, sliced cold roast, walnut sandwiches, fruit, and a syllabub, the ladies gathered at the request of their hostess and took a walk around the area. Arm in arm with Lady Danby, Eugenia followed the small groups of other ladies as they wandered around.

The warm air had turned cooler as clouds moved in overhead. Eugenia ran her hands up and down her arms, wishing she had brought her wrap. The scent of early summer flowers drifted to her nostrils as a slight wind picked up.

“Oh, dear. I hope our picnic will not be ruined by rain.” Lady Wentworth studied the sky. She turned to the group behind her. “Ladies, perhaps we should head back to the picnic area. I would not want to see us drenched.”

As one, the gathering turned and headed back, the wind picking up, blowing skirts, and threatening to remove bonnets from heads. Eugenia hurried with the others, briefly touching her wrist. “Oh, goodness.” She came to an abrupt halt.

“What is wrong, dear?” Lady Wentworth asked.

“I seem to have lost my bracelet. It is an heirloom from my grandmamma. I have to find it.”

“Perhaps you should leave off looking for it now. The weather does not look too promising.”

Eugenia scanned the darkening sky. “I will hurry. It cannot be too far.” She broke from the group and began to study the ground, covering the area they’d walked before they’d turned back.

The wind grew stronger, and she shivered slightly. Slowly, she examined the grass, every once in a while giving the threatening clouds a worried glance. She comforted herself with the thought that the group really hadn’t walked too far before they’d turned back. Once she’d paced the area with no results, she turned back and began again.

“Eugenia!” Devon’s deep voice could barely be heard over the whistling of the wind as he strode up behind her. “What are you doing? We are about to be hit with a storm. Come, and return to the house.”

“No, I can’t.” She shouted back, then pushed the hair flying loose from her bonnet out of her eyes. “I lost the bracelet my grandmamma gave me when I was just a girl. I can’t leave it here.”

…

Devon’s heart slowed a bit as he regarded Eugenia. When Lady Wentworth had chased him down as the servants gathered up the picnic remains, telling him that Eugenia had stayed behind to find a piece of jewelry she’d lost, he’d raced off, afraid she’d be caught in the downpour that was sure to arrive any moment. He’d been prepared to order her back to the house, and had it been just any piece of jewelry, he would have insisted. But he knew how much the gold and topaz bracelet meant to her.

“Very well. Let’s see if we can find it before we are soaked.”

With two pairs of eyes, they continued the hunt. Within minutes, fat beads of rain landed in plops in front of them, on their heads and shoulders. The drops soon increased, eventually turning into a deluge, making visibility nil. Just as Devon was about to insist they return without the bracelet, Eugenia cried, “There. It’s over there.”

Slipping and sliding, she hurried forward and bent to pick up the piece. She held it up, a grin on her face, water streaming from her soaked bonnet.

Devon grabbed her hand. “Come. There is a gazebo about halfway to the picnic area.”

When it became apparent that wet slippers gave no purchase on the soaked grass, Devon bent and scooped Eugenia into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder.

Her body was light as a feather in his arms. Did she even eat enough? Of all the women he’d shared a bed with, his wife was the only one he’d never seen completely unclothed. Although he assumed keeping one’s wife covered to preserve her modesty was normal, for some reason now it bothered him.

Why the devil had a soaking wet Eugenia produced that thought?

Head down, he continued forward, his long legs eating up the distance. “Here we are.” He headed to the gazebo, which would be somewhat of a shelter as long as the wind didn’t pick up again. Once out of the worst of the rain, he set her on her feet.

“I am sorry to be such a bother.” Eugenia pushed back the hair that had fallen from her bonnet onto her forehead. Being made of straw, said bonnet drooped in the front, the sodden brim dipping water over one of Eugenia’s eyes. Her face was flushed, her clothing plastered to her body, and mud covered the hem of her gown.

“’Tis no bother, my dear.”

Why the devil was it every time he looked at her lately, she appeared disheveled? His Eugenia never had a hair out of place, had always worn gowns that covered her bosom in a respectable manner, would never have considered playing pall mall, and certainly wouldn’t be standing before him right now with every curve of her luscious body visible through her soaked gown.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes to block the image from his mind.

Not working.

“Eugenia, we have to get you out of those wet clothes before you catch an ague.”