“I must say you seem happy, Rose,” Lily admitted.
Roslyn’s smile softened. “Ecstatically so. What about you, Lily? Are you happy, living in London with Fanny’s friends and boarders?”
“Yes, indeed,” she answered truthfully. “It is extremely fulfilling, being able to teach those women and improve their self-esteem. I can actually see them blossom day by day. They are far more eager to learn than our students at the Freemantle Academy ever were. Possibly because they know how hard life can be, having to earn their own livings instead of being born to wealth and comfort.”
“So what about Lord Claybourne?” Arabella wanted to know.
“What about him?” she hedged.
“How is your courtship progressing? I doubt you welcomed his romantic attentions.”
“Of course not. I am only enduring him so he will bring some suitable gentlemen to the soiree on Monday evening.”
“But Claybourne is a delightfully charming man,” Roslyn pointed out. “Clever and quick-witted and charismatic. I should think you would find the challenge he presents at least a little exciting.”
Lily couldn’t deny that Heath was dynamic and exciting. Around him she felt exhilarated, her wits and senses alive and on full alert. And since he’d begun his pursuit, her life was far livelier than it had ever been.
Which was what made him so dangerous. If she felt this way about him after less than a week, how could she fight her deplorable attraction to him if he actually won their game?
“Perhaps, but I won’t even consider accepting his proposal. I am perfectly content as I am. Especially now that I’ve begun to reconsider my future. I want to find a way to aid women like our boarders. To help them seek better lives.”
“That is certainly an admirable goal,” Roslyn remarked, “but helping indigent women and having a husband are not mutually exclusive.”
Lily eyed her sisters with growing impatience. “If you mean to quiz me so relentlessly about Lord Claybourne, I think I will leave.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Arabella chided amiably. “It is just that we both fell in love with our ideal mates, and we want you to have the same chance at happiness. You should at least give Claybourne’s courtship a chance.”
Lily shook her head adamantly. She never wanted to fall in love, and she never wanted to marry. She had vowed never to let any man have such irrevocable power over her, and she wouldn’t change her long-held beliefs simply because one possessed a nearly irresistible charm.
“I cannot trust him enough,” Lily said simply.
“He may be nothing like our father. Marcus certainly isn’t.”
“Nor is Drew,” Roslyn chimed in. “Lord Claybourne seems nothing like Papa, Lily.”
No, Heath seemed very different, Lily acknowledged. She could see the kindness in him, the gentleness, the humor. And he hadn’t tried to control her or dictate to her, the way their father had ruthlessly done their mother. Nor had he physically threatened her. Instead he had protected and defended her-
“I cannot imagine that you are afraid of him, Lily,” Arabella commented thoughtfully.
No, it was her response to him that made her afraid. She was frightened of the desire he made her feel. She had never wanted that kind of intimacy with a man, but now she found herself thinking of it constantly.
The irony was almost amusing. Just a few short months ago, she had warned Arabella about giving in to Marcus’s masculine allure. But now she understood the powerful temptation her sister had faced.
“You really should not condemn all men simply because of what Papa did”-Arabella smiled ruefully-“even though I felt exactly that way before I fell in love with Marcus. I know many noblemen have been raised to be selfish and uncaring, and such men are not even capable of love, but Claybourne could prove to be another exception.”
Lily had no idea if Heath was capable of love. She had seen glimpses of his magnanimity in the past few days-although that could be merely because he was trying to win their game.
But the state of his heart didn’t matter to her in the least, she reminded herself, stiffening her spine. “Belle, I truly don’t wish to discuss this any further.”
Her eldest sister pressed her lips together, as if wanting to argue, but then her expression softened. “You are right, of course. You must discover love on your own, Lily. So we won’t push you any further. But you do realize that Winifred is still set on matchmaking? She knows all about Claybourne’s courtship of you.”
Lily’s brow furrowed. “How did she find out?”
“I have no idea. Perhaps he told her.”
It would be just like him to secure Winifred as an ally, Lily thought in exasperation.
“Regardless of Winifred’s intentions,” Roslyn interrupted, “we should rejoin her party. You haven’t met Constance yet, Lily, or the children. You will love the children, I’m sure.”
From Roslyn’s letters, she had heard the remarkable story of how Winifred had taken in her late husband’s mistress and three illegitimate children. In fact, the garden party was being held in honor of Constance Baines, to introduce her to the local gentry. Reportedly Constance was almost completely recovered from the grave illness that had nearly taken her life.
“I very much want to meet them,” Lily said, linking arms with both her sisters. “And I brought the children presents, Rose, so I can spoil them as you suggested.”
Roslyn’s laughter was soft and tender. “They desperately need a bit of spoiling, they’ve had so little of it in their lives.”
Lily was more than happy to focus all of her attention on coming to know Constance and the children this afternoon, since it would give her an excuse to avoid a particular charming nobleman. But as soon as she stepped out on the terrace, she spied Heath with his two close friends, the Earl of Danvers and the Duke of Arden.
Like Heath, they were strikingly handsome aristocrats, with the virile look of avid sportsmen. The duke was darkly blond, his tall frame one of lithe elegance, while Marcus had ebony hair and a more powerful physique than Arden. But they each had eyes only for their ladies; it was clear they cherished Arabella and Roslyn dearly.
Heath, Lily noticed, was regarding her with a gleam of interest in his own eyes. Deplorably, her heart gave a leap of delight when she met his gaze, so she turned away quickly and detoured toward her friend Tess, who was talking and laughing with a small group of youngsters.
She would have to do much better, Lily scolded herself, if she hoped to get through the afternoon unscathed.
She did indeed relish meeting Constance and her three children.
Constance was a beautiful woman, although she still possessed the pallor of an invalid. And her two young daughters, Sarah and Daisy, showed signs of becoming just as lovely someday.
Her sixteen-year-old son, Benjamin, was less refined, with the strong, wiry build of a boy who’d been employed in menial labor for much of the past four years.
Ben pretended nonchalance at being in such illustrious company, but the little girls were dancing with excitement at attending their first party, anticipating the treats they’d been promised. Winifred had arranged for them to taste ices for the first time and to enjoy various entertainments and games. Later, they would take rowboats out on the ornamental lake under adult supervision.
Several other children had been invited to provide company for the Baines offspring, and Lily willingly volunteered to assist Tess in taking command of the infant troop.
Thus, for the first hour she managed to keep her distance from Heath while she played Pall Mall on the side lawn with Sarah and Daisy, showing them the art of hitting the wooden ball through a wicket with a mallet.
When they moved back to the gardens for a game of hide-and-seek, however, she couldn’t help but notice Heath. There was a genteel crowd of more than a hundred guests, and Lord Claybourne was clearly a favorite among them, with his charming manner and easy smile.
It surprised Lily immensely, then, when he left
his peers to join her and the children.
“Lady Freemantle has recruited me to organize the boating,” he informed her.
Lily cast her friend a narrow-eyed glance across the gardens before responding to Heath’s casual remark. “It is an obvious ploy to throw us together.”
“Naturally. She is well aware that you’ve been avoiding me ever since you arrived.”
“Well, you needn’t make such a sacrifice. Surely you cannot have any interest in taking children on boat rides.”
“Oh, but I can. Especially if it will allow me to share your enchanting company.”
Lily rolled her eyes, but Heath appeared to be entirely serious about his desire to entertain the children. He enlisted Benjamin Baines as his chief assistant and corralled the others to follow him through the gardens and across the elegant lawns down to the lake.
Several of the adults joined in the fun, so five boats were soon being filled with the assistance of several strapping Freemantle footmen. Lily stood on shore, helping the passengers settle into their seats, and then watched the ensuing laughter and gaiety as they ventured out onto the water.
It amazed her to observe Heath with the children. He was just as congenial and charming with the youngsters as he had been with her academy pupils. Sarah and Daisy in particular were spellbound by his presence as he rowed them back and forth across the lake and patiently showed them how to man the oars.
Winifred came up to Lily just then and wrapped her in a fond embrace before drawing back to scold her. “I have a serious bone to pick with you, my girl. What do you mean, haring off to London so that delightful marquess couldn’t find you? It was very bad of you to deceive us that way.”
Lily smiled affectionately. “You know your scheming drove me to it, Winifred.”
“Pah,” the plump, matronly lady retorted. “I had only your best interests at heart-and I still do. You led Claybourne on a wild-goose chase. I expect you to make it up to him.”
“What do you mean?” Lily asked warily.
“You must allow him to give you a boat ride after the children are done, just the two of you. It will be quite romantic”-she gestured at the lovely landscape-“in this idyllic setting.”
“Winifred-”
“I insist.”
When Lily scowled, Winifred held up a hand. “Very well, I know better than to insist with you. But I don’t believe it is too much to ask.” Her ladyship mimicked a pout. “Please, dear, just indulge an old woman’s whims this once.”
Lily gave a huff of exasperation. “You aren’t old in the least.”
“I am old enough to be your mother,” Winifred retorted. “What’s more, I have a great deal more experience than you do. Trust me, you don’t want to end up alone in your old age, unloved and unwanted, as I am.”
Biting back further argument, Lily gave in reluctantly and agreed to a boat ride with Lord Claybourne.
The adults in the company were satisfied with short excursions on the lake, but it was nearly an hour later before the children had had their fill of boating and Heath returned to shore with his last group of young passengers. Lily hoped he might have lost interest in taking her out, but once the children had debarked and had been led away by Tess, he turned to her expectantly. “At last it is your turn.”
Lily started to step into the rowboat, but Heath held out his hand. “Allow me to be chivalrous for once,” he said, laughter lurking in his deep gold eyes.
Knowing how the contact would affect her, she didn’t really want him to touch her. But she had little choice other than to give him her hand and allow him to support her. Yet she snatched her hand away as soon as she was settled on the bench opposite him.
“You put Lady Freemantle up to this, didn’t you?” Lily asked as Heath picked up the oars and began to stroke.
“She scarcely needed encouragement. She wants us to have the opportunity to be together. So just relent with good humor, love, and pretend you are enjoying yourself.”
Lily felt her mouth curve wryly. It was rather humorous, letting herself be maneuvered so expertly.
“I am perfectly capable of rowing myself, you know,” she declared, not wanting to give in too easily. “You needn’t treat me as a helpless blossom.”
“Believe me, I am laboring under no such misapprehension. You are much more like thistle.” Heath chuckled softly when she made a face. “You may take a turn with the oars in a moment, but for now, sit back and savor this romantic interlude.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Surely you don’t expect me to simper and flirt with you?”
“What a singular notion. You are too forthright to possess any feminine wiles.”
Lily tore her gaze away from his winning smile, and instead focused on the scenery. She had to admit she was enjoying herself. It was pleasant being out on the water, despite having to endure this charming rogue’s company…or perhaps because of it. The sun had come out from behind the clouds, and it was turning into a beautiful summer afternoon, even though the breeze had picked up significantly.
She felt a welcome contentment steal over her-until they neared the middle of the lake, when Heath stowed one oar and reached out to tug on the ribbons of her bonnet.
Giving a start of surprise, Lily clasped his wrist to stay his hand. “What the devil are you doing?”
“You look too prim and proper,” he said provocatively as he loosened the ribbons completely and plucked the bonnet off her head. “You need to feel the wind in your hair.”
She glanced back at the shore, but no one seem to be paying any attention to his vexing mischief. Leaning forward, Lily snatched back her bonnet and placed it on her head where it belonged. Yet before she could find the ribbons to retie them, a sharp gust of wind came up and caught the wide brim. Instantly, the bonnet lifted and went sailing over the side of the boat.
It was purely a reflex action on Lily’s part: she lunged sideways after it. To her dismay, not only did she miss, but her left arm sank shoulder-deep into the water.
She gasped at the sudden chill and grasped wildly at the boat’s edge with her free hand, her balance precarious. For a heartbeat, she hung there suspended. Behind her, she felt Heath grab at her skirts to keep her from falling completely overboard. But his added weight on that side tilted the little rowboat so that Lily lost her frail grip and went tumbling headfirst into the lake.
She heard Heath swear violently a second before the water closed over her. The shock of the cold made Lily open her mouth, which then made her inhale a mouthful.
Near panic, she came up choking and flailing and gasping for air. But almost immediately she felt a powerful arm slide around her waist as she struggled.
There was fear in Heath’s voice when he urgently said her name, although his tone soon gentled. “Easy, I have you,” he murmured soothingly, treading water while he held her.
He had plunged in after her to save her, Lily realized as she endured a helpless fit of coughing.
When she finally managed to catch her wheezing breath, he drew her even closer against him. “Are you all right?” he asked, concern in his eyes.
His face was very near hers, and she was clutching at his shoulders. Although she didn’t want to let go, Lily forced herself to relax her death grip.
“Yes,” she rasped hoarsely. “I’m fine.”
His mouth curled. “You don’t look fine.”
“I will be once I can breathe.”
As if to dispute her declaration, another bout of coughing overtook her. Heath continued to support her until she found her voice again.
“Thank you,” Lily said finally. “You didn’t need to get wet, though. I could have saved myself.”
“I thought you might drown.”
“I know how to swim. Basil Eddowes taught me when we were children. It was just the shock of falling in that paralyzed me for a moment.” She paused, suddenly aware of his body pressing against hers. “You can release me now. I can manage on my own.”
“You may
find it hard to swim in long skirts and petticoats.”
“I can manage,” Lily repeated.
He still seemed reluctant to release her, so she pushed away from him. He was right, Lily quickly learned. She could float somewhat, but she wasn’t very buoyant. Her skirts felt like a ship’s anchor, pulling her down. And when she tried to kick her legs to swim, she discovered they were tangled in swaths of muslin.
It was a struggle, but she made it over to the rowboat several yards away. Reaching up, she grasped the edge and clung.
She waited a short while to regain her strength before attempting to climb in, but then found it impossible; the weight of her sodden gown dragged her down, and every time she attempted to haul herself up, she tilted the rowboat into the water.
“Do you need my help yet, sweeting?” Heath asked mildly when she muttered an oath of exasperation.
Pushing a strand of dripping hair from her eyes, Lily glanced back at him. He was enjoying her dilemma, she could tell. And he wanted her to admit defeat. But she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of asking him for help.
By now a group of people had gathered on shore and were calling to her in alarm, demanding to know if she was all right.
“Yes, don’t worry,” Lily called back. “I am coming.”
Releasing her hold on the little boat, she struck out for the nearest shore to her left, swimming slowly because of her entangling skirts.
Judging by his tone, Heath didn’t seem to approve of her decision. “Just what do you think you are doing, Lily?”
She continued making small strokes, despite the frustration of only inching along. “I am saving myself. I don’t want you to earn any points for rescuing me. You only need three more to win as it is.”
“What if I relinquish any claim to points this time? Will you return to the boat and let me help you?”
“Thank you, your lordship, but I find the exercise stimulating.”
“Lily…” he said, amusement warring with exasperation.
When she wouldn’t give up, Heath caught up to her and swam alongside her, matching his strokes to her much shorter ones. “Did anyone ever tell you how stubborn you are, Miss Loring?”
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