by Sahara Kelly
“Here’s the little trick that might make it all work. As soon as we reach this point in what I suppose I should call our negotiations, you four girls start making a fuss about bathing costumes. What styles there are, what you have available, you know the sort of topics. Quite the normal thing for girls, of course, and nothing that would raise eyebrows. Naturally, the gentlemen will have no idea that you do not plan on wearing them…?” She looked around.
“I think that is very clever indeed, Lady Maud. Well done.” Lydia stood and clapped as the others rose and joined in the applause.
“Quite brilliant, if I may say so.” Ivy beamed at everyone.
“We’re going to have our swim, aren’t we,” breathed Prudence.
“If the Fates permit it and give us good weather and calm seas, then yes, Prudence,” grinned Lydia. “Yes, we’re going to have our swim.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Going to rain today, I hear,” said Miles as he reached the breakfast table. “Charlotte said so.”
Mowbray would have preferred a Galileo glass, a few scientific instruments and a table of observations, but since he was in the country and away from his own trusted equipment, he had to join the others and place his confidence in Charlotte, one of the cows in the small Maiden Shore herd.
Jim Trusty, who managed his Grace’s livestock, swore that Charlotte could predict rain. She lay down in a certain spot, he avowed, a few hours before the rain started. That way she had warm dry grass underneath her. Many cows did the same thing, but Jim insisted that only Charlotte could anticipate them all by hours.
And in all fairness, she’d been right more often than not.
Just as the entire group seated themselves and began devouring a hearty meal, Woodleigh approached the Duke. “A message, your Grace. From the Stauntons. I understand a reply is required forthwith.”
Colly took the note and unsealed it. Then sighed.
“Well, it seems that Sir Francis is pining for male company,” Colly looked up at the faces staring at him. “He has invited us gentlemen to an evening of cards.”
“Really,” said Lady Maud in a slightly outraged tone. “What a thing to do.”
“There’s more,” continued Colly. “The ladies are invited to join Lady Susan as she devotes the evening to all things Française.” He blinked and everyone there blinked back.
“Apparently,” he went on, “this is to involve a new game from Paris, known as roulette, and the first bottles of her latest shipment of Veuve-Cliquot champagne, also from Paris and most recently arrived.”
The silence lingered as he finished the note and folded it, placing it on the table. “Well?”
“Oh mon Dieu.” Ivy raised her shoulders with a grin. “I suppose it can’t hurt to visit? And I confess I should quite like to try champagne. Not sure about the gambling, though. Colly? Have you heard of this roulette game?”
“I have,” he nodded. “On one of my trips to Paris a while ago. It is entertaining, a large wheel spins, it has a little ball in it and numbered slots. Bets are placed on which number it will land in, what colour that number is, and so on.” He grinned. “And Veuve-Cliquot is very good indeed. I believe you would find it most agreeable.”
“On the other hand,” commented Sir Laurence, “About the evening of cards.”
Miles shrugged. “Probably the usual. A couple of tables for faro, piquet, perhaps dicing? I don’t know.”
“Those lads will be there, Calder and t’other one whose name I can’t for the life of me recall…”
“Furness, Will Furness,” said Mowbray. “And I wouldn’t be surprised to find a few more present as well. Most likely the ones they were with at the fair in Minton Barrow.” He sighed. “Where there are cards and gambling, there will be those who like to win.”
“And those who might need to win,” added Ronan.
“True,” nodded Colly. “But I don’t see how we can avoid it. We have nothing else planned, and the Stauntons are most amenable neighbours. I doubt this will be a coastal version of a gambling den.”
Ivy sighed. “I agree with Colly. We must act appropriately and they are good-hearted people. They may not always seem too sensible, and Lady Susan does hug a lot,” she grinned, “but those are small prices to pay for neighbours who are ready to help at the drop of a hat, and care less about one’s fortune than one’s state of mind.”
A general murmur of agreement rippled through the room.
“Very well. I shall send a footman with a note of acceptance. The festivities, as I understand it, are to commence at eight this evening.” He peered out of the window. “If the rain clears, we might be able to get in a little time outside.”
Maud glanced at Ivy. “Will it clear enough for a sail, do you think?”
“I’m not sure,” Ivy answered. “Ronan, you’re our sea expert. What do you think?”
“Well, I don’t want to disagree with a clever cow like Charlotte, mind you, but I wouldn’t be surprised to see a lick or two of sunlight come noon…”
“Which begs me to ask if you’d consider a sail?”
“Of course, Lady Maud. Any sailor would be honoured to take such a grand personage as yourself on his yacht.”
“Pshaw,” answered Maud. “Lock away that Spanish coin, young man. You’ll probably be sick of ferrying women around by the time summer’s over.”
Ronan clutched his heart dramatically. “You wound me, beauteous goddess. I live to serve the gentle sex.”
“So I’ve heard,” Sir Laurence lifted an eyebrow. “And you do it damn well too, according to rumours.”
“Hmm,” Ronan actually managed a blush. “I’m not one who likes to brag…”
“All right then, theatrics aside…” Colly shot a grin at Ronan. “If the weather clears, we’ll take a quick sail. Anyone have anywhere in particular they might like to go?”
Mowbray caught several speaking glances being exchanged between the ladies. They were up to something, he’d bet his best boots on it.
“I had an idea,” offered Ivy, her face the picture of innocence. “Cook was telling me the other day that there’s a small cove not too far west of here, that is completely inaccessible by land, but you can get to the beach by sea. It seems very few people ever go there, so I wondered if it might be an unspoiled treat for us. Virgin territory, so to speak.”
“Oh.” Lydia clapped her hands. “If the cliffs are right, what a wonderful chance to take a look for fossils? If there haven’t been any other fossil hunters, what might we find?” Excitement crossed her face. “And shells, too. Prudence, your collection is growing, isn’t it? What a tremendous opportunity to add to it.”
“Anyone got any opinions?” Ronan threw the question out into the room.
“With all due respect, I think I’ll stay here.” Sir Laurence looked mildly embarrassed. “Not much of a lad for the sea, I’ll confess. If there’s no need for me to do it, then I’ll remain on dry land.”
“Never mind, dear. You shall be excused.” His wife patted his hand as her husband heaved a sigh of relief.
“It looks as if the Maeve will have a full crew, then,” said Ronan. “I’ll make sure she’s shipshape and we should know in a couple of hours or so if we can make sail.”
Once again that look ran amongst the ladies.
Yes, they were definitely up to something, but Mowbray didn’t know what. His orderly mind tried putting it all together. They were going out on the yacht to explore a private beach. He couldn’t see anything other than what was on the surface.
And in truth, Lydia had stirred his own interests, because she was right. If no other fossil hunters had been there, or at least very few, then the rocks might still be full of exciting discoveries. The scientist in him was already packing his bag for the trip.
The man in him was watching Lydia and trying hard not to remember her taste and her scent or the feel of her breasts in his hands.
*~~*~~*
Although Charlotte had correctly predicte
d the morning’s showers, by noon Ronan’s assessment proved valid.
The sun broke through the clouds, sketchily at first, but then more boisterously and a clear sky grew from the west, a harbinger of good weather.
Lydia and the ladies were ecstatic. This was their chance to survey the private beach and see if it would work for their swimming needs. Maud was thrilled too and eagerly told Ronan the directions she’d “received from a local gentleman”. That gentleman was, of course, Prudence. But no one would ever have guessed such a thing, since she sat with everyone else on Ronan’s yacht, listening patiently to Maud.
If a little ripple of excitement shot through the female contingent, well, it was only to be expected, since a rainy day had turned sunny and they were sailing with their friends.
Used to the Maeve, Lydia assumed her favourite seat and once again closed her eyes, breathing in the salt air, listening to the murmur of conversation around her and the cry of the ever-present seagulls. They were towing the rowboat as well, and the merry little splashes as it bumped along were an additional delight.
“Enjoying the ride?” Mowbray sat next to her on the bench.
“Very much,” she replied, ignoring the little quiver of recognition that shimmered down her spine.
“So this beach. Or cove, or whatever it is.”
Lydia kept her eyes closed. “Yes?”
“I sense that you ladies are most interested to see it.”
Damn the man. He was far too observant for her liking. She raised her eyelids and prayed her voice was calm and collected. “I have no idea what you mean.” She followed that up with a puzzled frown. “Of course we’re interested. If it is as we suppose, we shall have it all to ourselves for a little while. I’m sure I’m not the only one who finds that idea most appealing?”
Mowbray’s face betrayed nothing, although she could have sworn that for a second or two there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.
“I doubt it,” he nodded. “And you’re quite right. For myself, I will admit I am eager to see if there are fossils, just as you are. And if it’s been deserted for some time, perhaps the natural erosion processes of the ocean have revealed things of interest.”
“More ammonites, of course,” she laughed, knowing he’d seen her growing collection of the gracefully swirled imprints in various sizes of rock.
“What else?” He laughed back. “They must have been very happy in these prehistoric waters. Wouldn’t you love to have seen them while they lived here in their thousands?”
Lydia nodded. “It would have been quite a sight, I imagine.”
“I’m going out a little further,” called Ronan. “Hold on as I change heading…” Everyone obeyed, knowing the boat would rock as Ronan steered a different course.
“That’s why. Look.” Mowbray pointed to a large rock barrier, formed when part of the cliff had sheared off. “Probably the result of some violent storm,” he mused, staring at the dark mass of boulders. “Long ago though, I’d guess. Lots of seaweed over the ones near the ocean. They’ve aged too…”
His geological assessment fell on deaf ears since they were rounding the fallen rock barrier and getting their first sight of the beach itself.
“Oh look…” Lydia leaned forward and pointed, holding onto the gunwale with her other hand. “There it is.”
And indeed there it was. A smooth and pale slick of sand, not terribly wide, but tucked inside the protective arms of the cliffs. Another cascade of rocks brought the cliff on the far side almost to the sea.
It was as Prudence had been told. Pretty much inaccessible from anywhere but the water. And completely private.
Within moments, every woman on the boat was smiling and eagerly awaiting to go ashore.
“I don’t know how close I can get, ladies. There’s a sandy bottom here, but I’d rather not beach the Maeve.”
“Then weigh anchor when you’re ready, Ronan.” Colly stood in the bow. “You’ve still got maybe five or six feet.”
Ronan lowered the sail and dropped anchor, while the men unfastened the rowboat and pulled it around to the side of the yacht.
And soon the sand on the beach was no longer pristine. It took two trips, and strong arms to ferry the ladies to dry land, but it was accomplished fairly quickly and then they all stood silent for a few minutes, fascinated by the lack of any sign of human presence other than their own.
Lydia hurried to the cliff face and touched it as Mowbray came up beside her.
“What do you think? Fossils? Is it the right rock? It looks like the other cliffs we’ve seen…” She chattered excitedly.
“Most likely. Let’s see…” He pulled out his hammer from his pocket and tapped gently on one cracked seam.
A piece split off fairly easily and Lydia did a little jig as he handled the pieces, slowly revealing…another ammonite.
But it was quite large, very detailed and in and of itself, completely wonderful.
“Oh yes, Mowbray. Yes.” Lydia stared at it. “Look at that. You can see colours, almost. It’s like a shining dark mass, isn’t it?”
“Amazing,” nodded Mowbray. “Yes, I think we’ll find some interesting things here.”
“Isn’t this just splendid, Lydia?” Prudence hurried up. “An absolutely perfect beach.”
Lydia shot her a look of excitement. “It is indeed.” She glanced around, then back at Prudence. “Utterly ideal.”
“Agreed.”
Prudence left, hurrying away to Ivy.
“All right,” said Mowbray quietly, his face angled to the cliff away from the others. “What are you up to?”
Lydia blinked. “Me? Nothing. I’m not up to anything.”
He turned his head a little and stared at her, moving closer as if to show her something he’d seen in the cliff. “You women are plotting. You can’t hide it, Lydia. All of you are in it together. So I think you should tell me what it is.”
“Why?” She looked at him. “Even if we were, and I’m most certainly not saying that, why do you think I should tell you?”
“Because I’d like to know. Then I can figure out if I can help.”
“Oh.”
That answer soothed her rising temper. She was about to give him a tongue-lashing for masculine overt authority and unwanted protection, but here he was offering to help without even knowing what was going on.
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re a clever one, aren’t you?”
“I like to think I can keep up,” he said carefully. “What am I being clever about now?”
“You’re offering to help only to get me to tell you what we’re doing. Then when I do, you’ll tell me we can’t do it because of all the usual silly reasons, like being women, needed men to protect us from unforeseen dangers and all that nonsense.”
He blinked. “Er, Lydia? You’re thinking far too deeply about this.”
“Hmm.” She held his gaze. “You weren’t going to do any of that?”
“No.”
“Oh.” She bit her lip. “Promise me you will not say a single word?”
“I promise. And you know I can keep a secret.” His eyes softened as they met her gaze.
She blushed. “Yes. Yes, I do.” On a sigh, she moved closer and picked at the cliff a little. “Very well, then. We women are planning on doing some bathing. But we don’t have a bathing machine, so we’ve been trying to come up with an idea that will work. This beach and its total privacy should fit our requirements.”
He thought about it for a few moments, leaving Lydia with her heart in her mouth. Just what would he say? How would he phrase his objections, since there were sure to be some.
“You’d have to sail…”
She lifted her eyebrows in surprise. “Yes, we plan on asking Ronan to bring us. Lady Maud would stay on board to ensure he takes the yacht out of sight.”
“Well then, I’d say it’s a splendid idea.”
Lydia’s breath left her lungs in a whoosh. “Really?”
“Yes, real
ly. I think it’s quite silly to make such an issue about swimming. Bathing costumes can be well hidden under a cloak which I assume you have already thought of, and that will leave none the wiser as to the purpose of your voyage. Yes, all things considered, it really is a good notion. Providing you all can swim?”
She nodded. “We can.”
“Then I will help by adding my support to the project,” he grinned. “Since you might find a little more opposition from the others.”
“I know,” she pursed her lips. “But I’m depending on Maud to present our case. If anyone can, she can.”
“In that case, I wish you a wonderful time in the water and you must promise to tell me about it.”
“I promise.” She took his arm and allowed him to lead her back to the others, where they showed off their newest ammonite.
The rest of Lydia’s afternoon passed in a haze of delight, and as they finally left what they now felt was “their” beach, she sighed.
“I can’t wait to come back,” she looked back at the now-empty shore.
Four voices answered, almost in unison. “Neither can I.”
Chapter Eighteen
After the great success of the afternoon’s visit to the private cove, the ladies managed to catch a few moments together, and agreed to table any discussion of swimming until the following day. Such a conversation, Lydia knew, would probably involve shouting, hair clutching and shock, followed by a prolonged period of disagreement about things like safety and propriety.
Although, to be brutally honest, she knew that most of the gentlemen involved were no angels when it came to propriety. Even Colly, a Duke, had had his moments, although it was Ivy’s face that gave that away, rather than her words.
So they turned their attention to the upcoming evening at the Staunton mansion, and as she dressed, Lydia felt a certain sense of unwillingness to attend this particular function. She anticipated Sir Anthony and Will being there, and worried they’d continue their very public pursuit of her.
And although she prided herself on her ability to handle most situations with a degree of aplomb, she was less certain about what might happen down here during a more leisurely and informal summer holiday.
