How to Manage a Marquess

by Sally MacKenzie

  A slow, rather lascivious grin twisted Duck’s lips, and Anne felt a blush sweep up her neck, heating her face. Surely the man wasn’t thinking what she thought he was? She glanced at the marquess—

  And saw a distinctly hot gleam in his eyes. At least she thought she saw it. He blinked almost immediately, and it was gone.

  “Splendid,” Lord Haywood said. “Come along then. We’ll need one of the rowboats, Duck. I assume they’re all in good order?”

  “Aye. They aren’t used much these days, more’s the pity.”

  They went through a door into a shadowy building with a few small rowboats stacked on the side and one or two larger boats bobbing in the water that filled the center of the structure.

  “Take Miss Davenport’s hands, boys,” Lord Haywood said, “and keep away from the edge.”

  Stephen and Edward took hold of her hands at once. The three of them stood back and watched the marquess carefully remove his coat, waistcoat, and cravat, roll up his sleeves, and help Duck wrestle one of the boats into a sling contraption, which Duck then lowered into the water.

  The boys stared at the boat; Anne stared at Lord Haywood or, more precisely, at his naked forearms, his broad shoulders and chest, and his muscles bunching and shifting under the fine white fabric of his shirt as he dealt with the boat.

  Oh, Lord. She remembered far too vividly how he’d looked without a shirt.

  Unfortunately, Duck noticed where her eyes had strayed. He grinned and waggled his brows.

  Fortunately, Lord Haywood was examining the boat and missed the man’s expression.

  I must keep my attention on the boys.

  She dropped her gaze to Stephen and Edward. Stephen was intent, serious, his grip on her hand tight. Edward, on the other hand—literally—was bouncing on his toes and making a small humming sound. She tightened her hold on his fingers, afraid he might launch himself at the marquess.

  “All ready,” Lord Haywood said once the boat was tied to the pier. “Time to go aboard.”

  Edward had moved from bouncing to jumping, though he still held Anne’s hand. “Me first! Me first!”

  The marquess smiled. “Ladies first, Edward.”

  Edward froze mid-jump, and his face fell. “Oh.”

  “I don’t—”

  Lord Haywood held up his hand to stop Anne. “I want you in first, Miss Davenport, so you can help steady the boat and settle the boys.”

  “Oh. Yes. Of course.”

  Lord Haywood put the hamper in the bow along with his discarded clothing and climbed in, crouching low in the middle while holding on to the pier with one hand. He extended his other. “Come along.”

  She let go of the boys—Duck stepped over to be sure they didn’t bolt after her—and put her hand in Lord Haywood’s. His palm was broad and warm, his grasp firm and reassuring. The neck of his shirt was untied so she could see the strong column of his throat and the angle of his jaw. A pleasant scent of eau de Cologne and exertion wafted over her as she stepped from the firm pier into the rocking boat.

  “Oh!” She lurched and grabbed his shoulder.

  “Easy,” he said, wrapping his hands around her waist and lowering her so she was almost sitting in his lap. “Are you all right?”

  Her heart was hammering in her chest, but whether it was from fright or something else, she couldn’t say.

  She needed to look confident for the boys, so she nodded as firmly as she could. Speech was probably best not attempted.

  “See? The rocking has stopped. Now if you’ll move to the stern”—he pointed with his chin since his hands were still on her waist—“and sit on the bench there, I can get the boys in. Stay low—in fact, it’s best if you crawl.”

  Doing as Lord Haywood asked was harder than she’d imagined—women’s skirts were not made for moving around a boat. In the end, the marquess had to half lift, half push her onto her seat.

  She felt the imprint of his hands all over her, and when she finally reached her place and looked back at him, she thought she saw the hot gleam back in his eyes. But then he turned to help Stephen into the boat and all their attention was on the boys.

  “Ready?” Lord Haywood asked once Stephen and Edward were settled on either side of her.

  “Oh, yes, Uncle Nate!” Edward bounced. He was too light to make the boat move much, but Anne wrapped her arm around him to be safe.

  Lord Haywood nodded his approval. “Very good, Miss Davenport. Best to keep an arm around each of the boys.” He smiled. “Even Stephen might get a trifle excited.” Then he grasped the oars and looked up at Duck. “I left a note for Eleanor, but in case anyone comes looking for us, you know where to find us.” He frowned. “Is the folly locked?”

  “Aye, but the key’s where it always is.”

  Duck shoved on the side of the boat while Lord Haywood pushed with an oar and then they were clear. Edward waved enthusiastically and even Stephen shouted good-bye as Lord Haywood’s long, strong strokes took them out of the boathouse and into the bright morning sun and the open lake.

  Chapter Twelve

  Nate pulled on the oars, enjoying the feel of working his muscles and the boat surging through the water. He hadn’t rowed in far too long. When he visited his estates later this summer, he’d take a boat out. Perhaps he’d do some fishing, too.

  He studied the little group in the stern. Stephen sat still, clearly trying very hard to behave. Too hard. He might be naturally cautious—Eleanor had been cautious as a girl—but he’d been forced to be fearful, thanks to that dastard Eaton. Stephen needed the opportunity to be a boy, to take a few risks, be a bit daring.

  Edward, however . . . in this instance, it was a good thing Stephen was so quiet, because Edward had enough excitement for both of them. He was chattering at Miss Davenport and trying to look everywhere at once, including over the side of the boat.

  A breeze ruffled the ribbons on Anne’s bonnet. It was difficult to believe she’d never been out on the water before. He’d like to take her—

  No. He wasn’t going to take Anne anywhere. Once they left this house party, he’d not see her again. If Eleanor invited him to visit her new home, he’d decline until he heard Miss Davenport had married. She was so beautiful and kind, she’d make some man a splendid wife.

  God, that thought was depressing, but there was nothing for it. He’d promised his mother and himself that he’d do his best to keep Marcus out of wedlock and thus alive for as long as he could. He’d think of his own marriage later, when he was closer to forty. That had been the plan he’d made on his mother’s death.

  It had seemed like a perfectly sane plan until just recently.

  “Don’t lean over so, love,” Anne said, pulling Edward back for the third or fourth time.

  Perhaps he should start teaching the boys to swim today so he’d have something to focus on besides these uncomfortable feelings. He looked up at the blue, cloudless sky. It was a perfect day for lessons, and having two adults present would make things safer. Anne could watch one boy while he worked with the other.

  She was smiling at Stephen now while keeping her arm wrapped securely around Edward. But she still had the corner of one eye on the imp. When Edward tried to stick his hand in the water, she quickly pulled him back and gave him a gentle, almost playful warning.

  She should have her own family. . . .

  Zeus! The thought was physically painful.

  “This is lovely, Lord Haywood. And you’re quite good with the oars. We are almost at the island.” She’d been gazing at the scenery when not watching the boys, but now she looked at him—and blushed, her eyes skimming over his arms and shoulders.

  He’d swear he could feel their touch.

  Lust swamped him. Again. He’d been battling the bloody sensation since his heated exchange with Miss Davenport in the Spinster House garden. No, since he first met her at Cupid’s Inn. Ha! How appropriate. If he believed in such stuff, he’d think the annoying god had nicked him with an arrow. He’d certainly no
t felt this way about any other woman.

  And it wasn’t just lust he was feeling.

  It will pass.

  He glanced over his shoulder to see how close they were. Just a few more strokes.

  “We’re here!” Edward said the moment the boat nudged against the island. He started to get up, causing Miss Davenport to tighten her hold on him.

  “Wait until Lord Haywood tells us it is safe to move, Edward,” Anne said and then looked at him. “How will we manage it, my lord? There’s no pier.”

  “True. I’ll have to get out and pull the boat partway onto the bank first.”

  “But you’ll ruin your boots.” She blushed again.

  Was she thinking of the last time his footwear had been threatened? He couldn’t resist reminding her if she had forgotten. “These already have a scratch or two.”

  Her blush deepened. So she had been thinking of the Spinster House garden.

  “But walking in wet boots would be most uncomfortable,” he continued, “so if you’ll forgive me, I mean to remove them and my socks—and roll up my breeches as well. Will that be all right? It does seem a shame to have come so far and not disembark.”

  He should have thought of this before, but if he was indeed going to start the boys’ swim lessons today, he was going to risk offending Miss Davenport’s sensibilities by far more than his bare feet and shins.

  She’s already seen me naked from the waist up.

  “Oh, do please say yes, Miss Anne,” Edward said, his eyes wide and beseeching.

  Stephen was too well-behaved to beg, but he, too, looked anxiously at Miss Davenport.

  It would have taken a heart of stone to deny the boys, and it was becoming clearer and clearer that Miss Davenport’s heart was remarkably soft.

  Her color remained high, but she nodded. “I think I can survive the sight of your male toes, Lord Haywood.”

  He grinned. “That’s a relief.”

  “Stop talking, Uncle Nate,” Edward said, “and hurry up! I can’t wait.”

  Nate would have laughed—if he hadn’t seen Stephen’s face.

  “Edward!” Stephen hissed, an almost panicked note in his voice. “Don’t be rude.”

  This was more than an older brother giving the younger one a wigging. Edward’s face paled and he seemed to fold in on himself.

  “I’m sorry,” Edward whispered.

  Miss Davenport looked as puzzled and worried as he was. “You could have been a bit more polite, Edward,” she said gently, “but I’m sure Lord Haywood understands that you are very excited.” She smiled. “I’d like to tell him to get on with it, too. I didn’t come here to sit in a boat when there’s an island to explore.”

  Edward giggled nervously and looked at Stephen, who looked anxiously at Nate.

  “Who am I to disagree with a lady? Let us not delay a moment longer.” He pulled off his boots, tucked his socks inside, and rolled up his breeches. Miss Davenport made a show of watching the boys, but he caught her sneaking peeks as he exposed his body parts.

  She was going to see quite a bit more of him when they got to the swim lessons, but not, unfortunately, the bit that was most eager to be viewed.

  He climbed over the side, being careful not to bump that inconveniently enthusiastic bit, and splashed down into the shallow water.

  Ah! The cool, smooth mud oozing between his toes reminded him of carefree summer days when he was a boy. Then, when his family visited the Manor, he and George and Marcus would spend days living in the folly, only coming back to the main house to eat—and sometimes not even then if they’d packed a hamper.

  Life had been much simpler.

  He shoved the boat farther onto the bank and helped Stephen and Edward scramble out. When it was Miss Davenport’s turn, he ignored her outstretched hand and caught her round the waist, lifting her onto dry land.

  “Oh!” Her eyes widened. She seemed surprised at her sudden change of location. “I am not a featherweight, my lord.”

  He pretended to collapse against the boat. “Indeed. I’m not certain I shall recover from the strain.”

  That made her laugh and say, with false sweetness, “I am so sorry. Would you like me to carry the food hamper for you?”

  He grinned. “I’d like to see you try, but no, I’ve suddenly recovered.” He hauled the hamper out—and noticed the boys watching them, surprise and caution on their faces.

  Hell, they’d probably never seen a man and woman tease each other.

  “Why don’t you go up to the cottage, boys,” he said to buy time. He suddenly needed a few moments to recover his equilibrium.

  Stephen and Edward took off running, shouting with excitement and finally looking like normal, happy little boys.

  Damnation, their blackguard father had been dead two years, yet he still controlled them. “If Eaton weren’t already dead, I’d shoot him between the eyes.”

  He hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud until Miss Davenport nodded. “And I’d applaud. Not that I would wish you to have another man’s death on your conscience, but it’s terrible to see how he’s dimmed the boys’ spirits.”

  He looked down at her. “What of your father? Will he treat them well?”

  “Oh, yes. I have no doubt of that.” Her smile held a touch of sadness. “I think he’s always been sad that my mother couldn’t have more children. He talks about the vicar’s family—Mr. Hutting has ten, you know—with ill-concealed envy.” She met his gaze. “I did promise Stephen I’d look out for him and Edward, just in case Papa is too wrapped up in his new wife and baby to pay them proper attention at first.” She cleared her throat and glanced away. “That is, I’ll do so for as long as I’m still living at the Hall.”

  Lord! He knew she’d have to marry someday, but it still hurt to hear her say so, even obliquely.

  He strove for a light tone. “And here I thought you were a confirmed spinster.”

  “I am. I hope Cat—” She caught herself and flushed. “That is, I hope I can find a way to live independently. I’m happy to stay at home for a while if I can help the boys, but I don’t wish to hang on my father’s sleeve for the rest of my life.”

  The only way Miss Davenport could live independently without marrying was if the Spinster House became vacant. That would only happen if Miss Hutting died or married Marcus, neither of which he hoped for.

  He changed the subject. “I’m afraid taking the boys out in the boat was not a well-considered decision on my part.”

  “Oh, no. How can you say so? Look at them! They are having a wonderful time.”

  They were. The boys had reached the cottage and were trying to peer in the windows. Stephen was giving Edward a boost up so he could look over the sill.

  He stopped a distance away so the boys wouldn’t overhear their conversation. “Yes, but now they are sure to want to come again, and I won’t be here to take them.”

  Miss Davenport shook her head, looking resigned. “Oh, I doubt they’ll be living here much longer.”

  “True.” Now that Eleanor was increasing, she and Davenport would want to marry as quickly as possible.

  Anne frowned. “Though it’s not safe to live at Davenport Hall without knowing how to swim either. Papa taught me when I was about Stephen’s age, and I think the vicar taught his children even younger. I’m certain the twins, who are only four, know how to get themselves out of the water if they should ever fall in.”

  Ah, just the opening he was hoping for. “That’s precisely what I think I should do—teach Stephen and Edward enough so they have a healthy respect for the water and can save themselves if they have to.” He grimaced. “With an emphasis on not putting themselves in a position where they might fall in.”

  Miss Davenport nodded. “That’s an excellent goal.”

  He grinned at her, far more pleased by her words than he should be. “I’m glad you think so because it occurred to me while I was rowing us over that I shouldn’t put it off. I’d like to give them their first lesson today.
If you’re willing to keep an eye on one boy while I’m working with the other, that is.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Of course, I’ll do that.”

  Stephen and Edward had stopped exploring the outside of the cottage and were now waiting patiently—or not—by the door.

  “Splendid. Now we’ll see if the boys are willing.”

  Edward was ready to begin at once. Stephen, however, was less enthusiastic.

  “Are there fish and things in the water, Uncle Nate?” Stephen asked, his voice wavering.

  “Fish!” Edward bounced. “I like fish.”

  “If there are any fish, Stephen, they will probably swim away from us. We are much larger than they are, and we’ll be doing a lot of splashing about. And we are not going into deep water, you know.”

  “Oh. That’s good then,” Stephen said doubtfully. “I guess.”

  “There’s a little inlet down the slope over there that’s perfect for swimming—or at least it was the last time I was here”—Nate grinned—“which I admit was quite a while ago. Why don’t we go have a look and see what you think?”

  When the water came into sight, Nate was relieved to see the inlet hadn’t changed. He stopped a short distance away and took a large blanket out of the hamper, spreading it over the ground.

  “May I offer you a seat, Miss Davenport?”

  “Thank you.”

  She sat down gracefully, and he turned his attention to the boys. “Which of you wants to go first?”

  Not surprisingly, it was Edward who volunteered.

  “Me!” Edward jumped up and down. “Take me!”

  “Is that all right with you, Stephen?”

  Stephen nodded. Good. Watching Edward play in the water might ease some of the older boy’s fears.

  “Splendid. And do keep Miss Davenport from eating all our luncheon, will you?”

  “I am not about to get into the food,” she said in mock insult.

  He grinned. “That’s what she says now, Stephen, but I want to be certain there’s something left for me to eat. Teaching swimming is hungry business.”

  “Learning swimming is hungry business, too,” Edward said.