by Lauren Smith
“Yes, I’m famished.” Joanna laid a hand on her stomach. “I missed luncheon because…well, Charles was there, and that man always makes me so nervous. Besides, Ashton will be home soon.”
Rosalind’s heart gave a wild thump. I should not be so excited to see him. She reminded herself that he had tricked her into that chess match. There needed to be a reckoning for that deception.
But then he’d taken her to bed and changed everything she’d understood about lovemaking. She’d never known a man and woman could come together with such passion. And she’d slept soundly afterward, feeling the safest she’d ever felt in her life.
Now for the first time, she’d gone shopping with two other ladies and enjoyed herself—even if she had tried on far too many bonnets. It had been a day of frivolous pleasantries instead of hard business and dealing with men who consistently dismissed her talents. Rosalind was afraid to trust that life would grant her such a luxury for long. But that treacherous little emotion of hope made her want that more than she should.
They climbed into the waiting coach as the footman loaded the boxes.
Regina and Joanna were smiling as they watched Rosalind remove her gloves and tuck them into her reticule.
Rosalind noticed and stared back at them in some concern. “What?” Was something on her clothing amiss? Was her hair coming undone?
“You look happy, my dear,” Regina noted. “For the first time since meeting you, you seem at ease.”
“Do I?” Rosalind hadn’t given much thought to the idea, but she did feel relaxed.
“I know Ashton can be positively overbearing at times,” Joanna added, “but I think he’s happy to be marrying you. He hasn’t smiled this much in years.”
That shouldn’t have mattered, but the moment Joanna said it, Rosalind couldn’t help the flutter of nerves at the thought of Ashton and his smiles. They could be so lovely, when he wasn’t acting so distant.
Rosalind glanced out the coach window as it pulled away, lost in daydreams and trying to hide the little fear inside of what would happen when her dreams were shattered. Soon they were riding past Kingsley Stream, the water high from the recent storms.
Suddenly a woman was running alongside the bank, waving at the coach. Rosalind jerked up in her seat as the coach halted. The ladies were nearly unseated by the quick stop.
“What is it?” Regina asked, her voice high.
“There’s a woman. She looks upset,” Rosalind said, opening the coach door and hopping out.
The woman’s face was strained with fear as she saw them climb out. Her clothes were wet and her white linen cap was askew.
“Your Ladyship, please forgive me.” She stopped and curtsied in front of Regina.
“Mrs. Stadley, what’s the matter?”
The woman wiped tears from her eyes. “It’s my husband. He was attempting to fix the wheel on the mill. He was holding on to a side of the wheel when it broke loose from whatever had stopped it, and I fear it’s pulled him under! I’m afraid he’s going to…” The woman was shaking hard now and didn’t say the word, but everyone knew what she was thinking. Drown.
“How long has he been under?” Regina asked.
“He fought to keep above water, but he went under just as I saw your coach coming up the road.”
The women rushed out of the coach and to the riverbank.
The giant wooden wheel was turning, water dripping from the panels.
Rosalind stepped forward. “I need someone to help me out of my dress.”
Ashton’s mother gaped at her. “You can’t go in after him. It’s too dangerous.”
“I assure you, I can swim quite well, and it seems there’s no one else around who can help the man in time. Joanna, please help me.” Rosalind turned her back as Joanna hastily undid the laces of the gown, and then Rosalind slipped off her stockings and hurried to the river.
“Please, miss, you don’t—” Mrs. Stadley began, but Rosalind dove into the water, missing whatever else she said.
The cold water swallowed her whole. Using the roots against the riverbank, she held still as she peered through the gloom of the murky depths. She could just make out the dark, looming shape of the wheel as it slowly turned, and there she saw it, a shape toward the bottom of the river. A man was struggling to get loose from an underwater branch that had caught the back of his trousers. He must have been pulled down once the blockage was freed and snagged at the bottom.
It had been years since she’d had to swim like this. Kicking her feet hard, she managed to reach him. He jerked in surprise when she gripped one of his arms. His cheeks were puffed out as though he was fighting to contain his last bit of air. Rosalind gripped the hem of his trousers near his lower back and dug her nails into the threading. The man grew still as she fought to rip the fabric away from the branch. He suddenly jerked violently and went limp, air escaping his mouth just as she got him free of the branch.
Lungs burning, Rosalind wrapped one arm around the man and clawed through the churning waters to the surface.
The light seemed so far away, and Mr. Stadley’s body was weighing her down.
Must…keep…going…
*****
Ashton raced along the road that would take him home to Lennox House—and Rosalind. His heart thumped a little too fast at the thought of seeing her again. Heavy hooves beat a staccato rhythm into the dirt road, but he barely felt it. The ride was a blur as he was lost in thoughts of Rosalind and how she made him feel.
No. I can’t let her affect me like this. It’s lust. Nothing more.
After what they had shared the previous night, it had to be lust that had him desperate to be near her again. It had been months since he’d found such pleasure with a woman, and last night had reminded him just how much he missed physical intimacy.
Soon he would have that intimacy at his fingertips again, to be called upon whenever he desired. The folded papers of the special license that were tucked in his coat were an assurance of that.
The scent in the breeze was heady with spring flowers. Kingsley Stream, a small river, was just around the bend where the trees thinned. He hoped Rosalind would love the Lennox lands as much as he did and would want to stay here with him when they weren’t working in London. With his mother in high spirits after he’d told her of his plans, he was convinced they would stop quarreling so much. If that was the case, he would be free to come home more often. He was lost in dreams and plans as he reined in his horse to a slower trot as he came closer to the river.
A coach was pulled up ahead just off the road, and several ladies were standing by the bank, their skirts blowing in the breeze against their legs. They were gazing at the river where Stadley Mill was. A fourth woman jumped into the water and disappeared. An odd sort of spectacle, to say the least.
As he got closer his heart leapt into his throat as he recognized his mother and sister were two of the three women at the edge of the bank. The third was the miller’s wife.
Ashton took in the scene quickly, noting the miller’s wife’s clothes were soaked and a beautiful walking dress lay abandoned on the riverbank. Everyone on the bank was staring at the water by the mill. The footman and the coach driver were soaking went as though they’d been in the water too. Suddenly he couldn’t breathe. Where was Rosalind? Hadn’t she gone with them to… The fourth woman jumping into the water…
He kicked his horse hard, making it gallop the rest of the way to the bank. Once he drew up beside them, he leapt off his mount.
“Mother?”
“Oh, Ashton! Quick, go after her!” Regina pointed to the river, her face pale.
“Where is Rosalind?” Even as he uttered the words, a dreadful pit formed in his stomach. “What happened?”
“She is trying to rescue Mr. Stadley, but she’s been under too long.” Regina was wringing her hands, her eyes wide with terror. He knew his mother couldn’t swim well, nor his sister, or one of them would have tried to find Rosalind.
Asht
on ripped his coat off and his boots, shoving them and the special license papers at his mother’s driver.
“Keep those dry!” he shouted before he dove in.
He couldn’t lose Rosalind, not when she was about to finally be his.
Ashton hit the water close to the wheel, the icy depths sending him momentarily into shock. He couldn’t make out much in the murk. Too much of the bed soil had been disturbed by the rushing waters and those within it.
Where was she? The fear billowing up inside him was as smothering as the water itself. What if he couldn’t find her in time? What if he lost her?
A flash of white in the dark, a quicksilver movement, caught his attention just as his lungs began to burn. He couldn’t stay under, not without breathing in the river.
With an inner curse, he kicked up to the surface and sucked in a lungful of air.
“Did you see her?” Joanna’s frantic voice bounced over the rushing water around him, cutting through the ringing in his ears.
He shook his head, inhaling deeply, even though his chest was burning and his body was shaking.
Just as he was preparing to dive again, Rosalind sprang up nearby, sputtering as she gasped. One of her arms was secured around Mr. Stadley’s chest. The miller seemed to be unconscious.
“Thank God!” he bellowed and seized hold of the woman, almost crushing her.
“Lennox, let go! I can’t stay above water! Take him!” Dutifully, he gripped Stadley’s body and hauled the man ashore.
“We have to revive him.” Rosalind gasped as she collapsed to her knees beside the unconscious man. “He has water in his lungs.”
Ashton rolled Stadley onto his back and pressed his hands down on the man’s chest, pumping several times.
The miller suddenly coughed as he expelled river water from his lungs. Ashton helped him shift onto one side and he continued to cough violently. Mrs. Stadley, weeping, rushed over to them and embraced her husband.
Ashton looked over the heads of the reunited couple to see Rosalind, her face pale as she coughed a little herself. He stood and came over to her, lifting her gently to her feet.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, studying her face for signs of distress. He could barely think, barely breathe after the fear and panic he’d endured the last few seconds when he thought he wouldn’t find her in time.
She shook her head. “No.”
Anger swept through him. She could have died. What the blazes had she been thinking to go in after a man when she might drown herself?
“Good. Because when we get home I have a mind to put my hand to your backside. How could you scare my mother and sister like that?” He’d almost admitted that he’d been the one most terrified. The thought of her lost in the river—it was too close to the past. He shut his eyes, trying to hold the memories at bay.
Icy water, the screams of young men, a struggling body bound in ropes, shouts of rage fighting with shouts of reason. Three men had gone under that night, and one had never come back up. Charles and Hugo had resurfaced, and all of them had searched for a young man who would never be seen again. Hugo had crawled onto the opposite bank on his hands and knees, his voice filled with anguish and then rage as he cursed Charles and all those who had stood with him to hell.
Ashton opened his eyes. “It was a brave thing you did, saving Stadley. But swear to me you will never do something so foolish again. I cannot lose you, do you understand?”
A strange emotion filled her eyes, but she did not speak right away. She must have seen something of his pain and fear because she slowly nodded.
“I’m sorry,” Rosalind whispered.
“Come, we must get back to the coach.”
Relief began to overwhelm his anger, and Ashton was feeling closer to his usual self. Rosalind was halfway up the riverbank when he noticed she was in her underthings. Her gown and petticoats lay clumped in a pile by the coach. He’d forgotten that in his panic, and so had she apparently, because she would have been scrambling for her dress had she remembered.
“Rosalind, wait.” He caught up with her and placed a hand on her back. “You’re painting far too tempting a picture for the men, sweetheart. Stay here.” He waved for her to remain ducked down behind the sloping bank while he called to the driver.
“Fetch my coat, but remove the papers from the inside pocket.” He waited for the man to do as he asked, and then he carried it back down the bank.
“Put this on. It will cover you enough to keep you warm.”
Shivering, she let him slide the coat over her body. A sudden flash of a memory from last year almost made him smile. He’d helped Godric protect Emily when Godric had fallen off his horse into a lake and she’d chased in after him. Now it is my woman I’m protecting.
“Ashton, are you well, my boy?” His mother and Joanna were staring at him.
“I’m fine. We’re all fine. Just had a bit of a fright.” They had no idea how true that was.
“Have the driver tie Ashton’s horse to the back of the coach,” his mother told Joanna. Then she ushered him and Rosalind into the vehicle.
His mother patted his shoulder and touched Rosalind’s cheek. “You’ll both need hot baths and soup. I want you to stay by the fire in your room until dinner. We do not need anyone taking ill due to the chill.”
Ashton sat beside Rosalind, and before she could protest, he lifted her onto his lap and tucked her body close to his, not caring if his mother considered it scandalous.
His fiancée struggled, but he held fast and put his lips to her ear. “Rest and take my body heat. Fight me later once you’re warm and dry.”
After a moment, her body relaxed and all of the tension seemed to flow out of her at last. Ashton ignored the worried glances of his mother and sister.
“That was a very brave thing you did, my dear.” His mother leaned over and patted Rosalind’s hand. “Very brave.” As she said this her voice had a slight tremor to it.
Ashton bit back a snarl. “She risked her bloody neck!”
“And saved Mr. Stadley’s life,” Joanna cut in.
He waited, expecting Rosalind to come to her own defense, but she said nothing. Instead she remained still in his arms, and every now and then a little shiver rippled from her. It only made him hold her tighter.
She sat on his lap, a determined set to her chin.
“I’ll not let you lay a hand on me,” she warned quietly.
“What?” He didn’t follow her remark.
Fire flashed in her eyes. “You said you’d take a hand to my backside before. I won’t let you. Not for any reason. Certainly not for doing what was right.”
Ashton studied her, the wide eyes, the firm line of her lips and the clenched fists at her sides. And then it all settled into place. She’d been hit before by her father. She didn’t understand a bit of sensual bed play and teasing threats compared to actual harm.
“I was angry, and I should not have said that. I was frightened more than anything else.” He hoped this admission would win some trust from her. He had to make her understand how scared he’d been when he thought she was gone.
“Because you’d lose your property?” She didn’t spit in his face, but the way she’d cast those words in a soft, spiteful tone she might as well have.
“No, because I…” He rubbed his temples with his palms, swallowing the words that would expose him. She could never know he was coming to care for her, not as much as he was. She wouldn’t hesitate to use that against him.
“Because what?”
Ashton took a long moment to respond, weighing his words carefully and remembering his mother and sister were there as well. “When I realized you were under the water, it terrified me. I once told you that Charles almost drowned in a river. What I didn’t tell you was that one of my other friends did drown that night. It was one of the worst nights of my life. I could not lose you like that.”
If he lost her, it would kill him. He was going to do everything within his power to keep her sa
fe.
Chapter Nineteen
The weight of three feminine stares made Ashton’s stomach clench. His mother and sister knew nothing of what had transpired all those years ago. Aside from academics, they knew he’d formed deep bonds with his friends and that was all. And he hadn’t planned on telling Rosalind more unless he had to. She pulled away from his hold to stare up at him, those gray eyes soft as dove feathers.
When he’d first gone to Cambridge, he’d had no friends. His father’s death and his subsequent debts had destroyed their societal connections. A year later he’d made true friends, whom he had brought home to meet his family. But he had never shared how he had met the rest of the League.
“Ashton, I never knew that,” his mother said, eyes as wide as saucers from the Lennox family china.
“It is a bad memory. I never wished to share that burden with anyone else.”
“I’m so sorry,” Rosalind whispered again.
He rested his forehead against Rosalind’s and stroked her back. She could be furious with him as much as she wanted, but he would not take back his anger and fear at the thought of her being harmed.
When the coach stopped in front of Lennox House, he let his mother and sister out first, followed by Rosalind. Their wet clothes squelched as they marched to the front door. The butler opened the door for them, brows raised as he took in their appearance.
“We had a quick swim in the river,” Ashton said curtly.
“I see.” The butler’s lips twitched, but he knew better than to laugh.
“Send a footman to run a bath, and send for Lady Melbourne’s maid,” he added.
Rosalind hurried up the stairs, anxious to remove her wet apparel, and he rushed to catch up with her, catching her by the hand just as she reached the top step.
“Rosalind, wait.” Her face was pale and her body was trembling. She raised her head, silently daring him. To do what, he wasn’t sure.