He’d always felt that he was free to be...himself here. That he wouldn’t be judged for being whatever he was. Gem’s father had never questioned his background or given any sign that he wished his son had invited someone else to stay for the holidays. Ben was Gem’s friend, and that was all Gem’s father seemed to need to know. It had been here, where all the boys had been allowed to do pretty much whatever they’d wanted, that he’d first begun to believe that he was good at some pursuits. And to start to hope that he might be able to make something of himself, in spite of what his own parents had always said.
He felt that air of...acceptance, of...haven, he supposed, particularly strongly tonight. He lifted his head to look up at the stars. Felt the breeze cooling his damp skin. Listened to the hoot of an owl, hunting, the sharp cry of a vixen. And revelled in the peace. No enemies lurking in the undergrowth. No regimental paperwork waiting for him in some billet, somewhere. No butcher’s bill to fill out. Just peace. The blessed peace of the countryside far, far away from any battlefield.
Although when he approached the rock upon which he’d left his clothes he noted that even in England a man needed to think twice before letting down his guard. Because while he’d been swimming round the island, Walter and Horace had thought it would be fun to hide his clothes. He shook his head ruefully, even as a smile began to tug at his lips. The years hadn’t changed them. In fact, he should have known they were up to something when they’d let him get out of the boat and get a head start on the latest challenge.
So, the only question was, where had they hidden his clothes?
‘Walter,’ he yelled. ‘Horace, come out! I know you’re hiding somewhere...’
Instead of hearing sniggering coming from behind the broken wall of the temple or the thick shrubbery, he heard a hoot of drunken laughter come floating from somewhere out on the water.
He whirled round and waded back into the lake. He was just about to yell at them to come back when he heard a sharp cry from behind him.
‘Ben, no, the current!’
He whirled round, to see Lady Daisy pop up from behind another of the marble boulders strewn across this part of the shore.
He rather thought he might have let out a sound that resembled the yelp of a dog who’d just had his paw trodden on, as he instinctively lowered his hands as swiftly as he could to cover as much of himself as he could.
‘What the hell,’ he said, ‘are you doing out here?’ And how much had she seen? Well, she must have seen him taking off his clothes...all of them...
But, no, no, not Daisy. She was too ladylike to have watched. Too disinterested, not to say repulsed by all things masculine. She would have screwed her eyes up with repugnance the moment he’d flung his jacket aside.
‘Hiding, obviously,’ she replied tartly.
‘Not very well,’ he pointed out, since he could see her, and she’d spoken to him. And, now he came to think of it, she must have been watching, to have known he was going back into the water, and to have shouted the warning.
And all at once he felt twice as naked. If a man could be more naked than, well, completely naked...
‘Excuse me,’ she said witheringly, ‘but none of you had any idea I was here until I forgot myself and shouted a warning.’
‘True,’ he conceded. ‘Though you had no need to do so.’ And he would not take her warning shout as a sign of deep concern, no matter how much panic he’d heard in her voice. It was more likely a sign of contempt for what she thought was his lack of intelligence. ‘I would not have tried to swim back,’ he said resentfully, ‘not with the way the current is running tonight. I am not a complete idiot.’
‘No, but you are foxed.’
‘Not as foxed as the others.’
She snorted. ‘You have all been drinking steadily since about four this afternoon.’
‘That may be true, but for every glass I finished, they must have downed three or four.’
She didn’t look convinced. ‘You didn’t try to stop them from taking a swim, though, did you? In fact, you were the first one into the water.’
‘I thought it might help sober them up.’
She snorted again. ‘Well, that worked well.’
He looked over his shoulder, to where he could still hear faint echoes of laughter, drawing further and further away.
‘I just hope that when they sober up—’ which would probably be at some stage tomorrow ‘—they remember they stranded me out here.’
She sighed. Shook her head. ‘I won’t leave you stranded, Ben, without any clothes. No matter what I...’ She broke off, shaking her head again. ‘I can row you back in my boat.’
Of course, she must have a boat to have reached the island. But...
‘No. No, I don’t think so, my lady. I—’
‘Since when have you ever called me your lady?’ she said crossly. ‘It’s Daisy to you lot, isn’t it?’
‘Well, I—’
‘I’m not an idiot either, Ben. I know very well what you call me between yourselves. And to my face when you... Oh, never mind.’ She folded her arms across her chest. ‘The point is you cannot possibly stay out here all night. You will freeze without clothing or shelter.’
‘I think you forget that I have been a soldier for the past six years. I have had to spend nights out of doors in far worse conditions than this—’
‘Not, I would warrant, without clothing.’
‘Well, no, but I’ve had to sleep on the ground, in the snow...’
‘Oh, stop arguing, Ben. I am sure you have had to do all sorts of unpleasant things when you were in the thick of a campaign. But the point is you are not on campaign now. You are staying at your friend’s house, where you ought to be able to have a bed with blankets and sheets and a hot breakfast in the morning. And no matter what you have done, I could not possibly sleep myself, knowing you were out here, shivering and naked in the rain all night.’
‘That’s very good of you, my... Daisy.’ And so typical of her. Others might think she was cold, but beneath her outer reserve beat a heart that was good, and kind, and compassionate. ‘But, look, you really don’t need to row me back across the lake yourself. Couldn’t you just go across and then...send a message to my manservant to row over with some dry clothes?’
She glanced up at the sky. ‘I could, I suppose, but it would be quicker to just row you across myself. And then you could shelter in the boathouse while I go and fetch your manservant. Because it is going to rain soon. Can’t you feel it in the air?’
‘I can, yes, but a little rain won’t do me any harm. Not English rain. Summer rain.’
She stuck her fists on her hips. ‘I see. You would rather do anything than get into a boat with me, wouldn’t you? Would it damage your masculine pride so much to allow a mere female to help you out? Yes, it would. Hah! I didn’t think it of you, Ben. I thought at least you were...’ She pulled herself up to her full height. ‘But I see I was wrong. You despise me just as much as—’
‘No!’ He couldn’t let her think that of him. ‘Daisy, that isn’t true! I don’t despise you! I...’
Instinctively he darted forward. The breeze, which felt so balmy on the rest of his body, felt like icy teeth grazing over his thighs as he came out of the water, and made him shiver.
‘You would, in fact, rather freeze out here than be forced to sit within one foot of me for the short duration of the boat ride back to the mainland.’
‘No, Daisy...’ He strode across the gravel to where she was standing, reaching her just as a flicker of lightning brought the entire scene into bright relief. ‘You haven’t considered... If anyone were to see you, and me, like this in a boat, in the dead of night...’
‘Yes. You would risk being compromised into marrying me, wouldn’t you? Well, we can’t have that, can we? Freeze to death, Ben, and see if I care,’ she said, before turning ro
und and marching away, the sequins on her gown glistening in the faint flicker of another, somewhat closer flash of lightning.
He did freeze, just for a moment, as a dozen scenarios flitted through his mind. But out of all of them the worst, the very worst, was having Daisy believe that he was so averse to marrying her that he’d rather freeze to death. When he would give anything...anything to be the kind of man she might...
‘Hold up, Daisy,’ he said, trotting after her. Which wasn’t as easy as one might think when hanging on tightly to one’s dignity with both hands. ‘It isn’t that I...’ Lord, how to explain what he felt for her? Even the tithe of it? ‘You should be able to have the choice to marry whoever you want. Or not marry, that’s all. I wouldn’t want to do anything that might rob you of that choice...’
He just about heard her give another of her disbelieving snorts above the thunder rumbling from one of the banks of clouds that were filling the sky with menace.
He hadn’t convinced her that he was speaking the truth. But at least he’d told her. Part of it, at any rate.
She glanced at him over her shoulder as she started pushing her boat across the shore and into the water. ‘Are you coming with me, then?’
She shot the words at him like a challenge. Just as the first drops of rain started to fall.
‘Yes.’ Dammit! He couldn’t let her think he’d rather stay out in the... A flash of lightning changed what he’d been about to call rain into one of those English thunderstorms that could send hail the size of lead shot pelting down from skies that had been balmy not five minutes before.
‘Only...’ He eyed the boat, as it slid into the water. ‘I...er...may have a little difficulty getting aboard.’
She glanced down to where he was covering himself with both hands. If he let go with one to steady himself, she was going to see something a virtuous young lady should not see until her wedding night. He couldn’t help it. Just being naked, in Daisy’s company, had got him reacting in a completely inappropriate manner, in spite of the rapidly chilling conditions.
‘If you could just...shut your eyes while I...’
She pursed her lips. ‘I can do better than that.’ She reached for the shawl she had round her shoulders. ‘Here,’ she said, holding it out to him. And then, when she realised he’d have to let go of himself in order to take the shawl, threw it to him. ‘I will shut my eyes while you...er...cover up a bit. I mean, not any specific bit, obviously. I meant... Oh, you know what I mean!’
So she had looked. A grin tugged at his mouth as she gripped the oars tightly, steadying the boat in place, shut her eyes, and turned her face away for good measure.
He made short work of knotting the shawl round his waist like a kilt. Thankfully it was of thick woollen material, rather than the flimsy kind of thing she would normally wear in the evening, so it made for adequate covering.
She opened just one eye after he’d got into the boat, as if to assure herself he was as decent as he could be in the circumstances. Although it was growing so dark as the thunderclouds blotted out more and more of the sky that before long, he reckoned, it wouldn’t matter if he was completely naked.
‘Give me the oars now, Daisy,’ he said.
‘I am perfectly capable of rowing us both back to the boathouse!’
‘Yes, I am sure you are,’ he said patiently. ‘But in case you had forgotten, I am wet, and naked, and once those clouds unleash their burden, I am going to get a whole lot wetter. And rowing will at least keep me warm.’
‘Oh,’ she said on a huff. And then pushed the shafts of the oars in his direction. He was glad that she’d seen sense when, not one minute later, the whole surface of the lake hissed and boiled as a heavy shower came pelting down.
‘The one good thing about this weather,’ she said, nonchalantly unfurling the umbrella that she must have stowed in the boat against the prospect of rain, ‘is that nobody else will be outside. We should be able to go straight to the boathouse without having to worry about anyone seeing us.’
‘Walter and Horace might be in there,’ he pointed out. ‘Sheltering from the storm.’
‘Would they have the sense to notice the thunderstorm approaching and seek shelter? Wouldn’t they be more likely to have gone straight back to the house to find more brandy? Because it looked to me as though they’d finished the bottle they’d had in the boat with them.’
Which sounded as though she’d been paying far more attention to what they’d all been up to than he’d hoped.
‘Nevertheless,’ he said, keeping to the facts, rather than allowing the conversation to drift into realms of speculation, ‘I think we should take some precautionary measures.’
‘Very well. When we get near the shore, I will keep a sharp lookout for any signs of anyone lurking about anywhere.’ She sat up straighter and began peering past him over his shoulders. Just as the squall ceased, and a shaft of moonlight speared down from the clouds. Which meant that he could clearly see where the rain had made her dress cling, in spite of the umbrella keeping the majority of her dry. There was a patch just above her knee, for example...
‘Ben,’ she complained as he fumbled the oar, making a loud splash, ‘I thought we were trying to approach the shore stealthily.’
‘Sorry, sorry,’ he mumbled. ‘Cold hands...’
‘Well, it doesn’t matter. Because there is nobody in sight. You can beach the boat anywhere.’
He pulled hard, until he heard the keel crunch into gravel. ‘You, ah, you will have to climb over me to get out, unless I...’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘No, let me get out first, and I’ll steady the craft. Hold onto the oars for a minute, will you?’
She took them and held the craft still while he jumped out. And then she tossed him the mooring rope, so that he could tie the boat to the nearest bollard, several of which were jutting out from the bank on this part of the shoreline. She stood up, and he’d just held out his hand to help her alight when a rustling noise came from the nearest bank of shrubbery, swiftly followed by some extremely unsavoury cursing.
‘He hasn’t just got no shirt, dammit,’ came the voice of Daisy’s oldest brother, James. ‘His legs are bare, too. And that’s my sister holding his hand. Hi, you, what the devil are you about, holding my sister’s hand in the state you’re in?’
Not only James, but also his two friends came staggering out of the bushes, clearly the worse for wear.
‘Never mind me,’ said Daisy, as she leaped to the shore. ‘What are you all doing, lurking about in the shrubbery?’
Lord Cherry swept her a short, and rather inebriated-looking bow. ‘Setting a trap for the Fit and his friends,’ he said, holding up a ball of twine. ‘Overheard them plotting, d’you see? Couldn’t let them get away with—’
‘Never mind what we were doing,’ said James, pushing his friend aside as he stepped forward. ‘What were you doing, at midnight, rowing about on the lake with my sister, with no clothes on?’
Ben was just about to try and explain when, with a crunching of booted feet, Jasper and Walter and Horace appeared from the direction of the boathouse, Walter and Horace still giggling like schoolgirls.
‘What’s all the shouting? What the...?’ Jasper came to a dead halt, his brows drawing down into a scowl. ‘I know I said I wanted you to try and get Daisy to marry one of you, but I never expected you to sink to these depths.’
‘No, you don’t understand,’ said Daisy.
But Jasper didn’t appear to have heard her. Or didn’t want to listen. Because instead of waiting to hear what had led them to be in the boat, with him dressed only in a rather itchy woollen shawl, Jasper drew back his arm, and punched Ben in the face.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘No!’ Marguerite couldn’t help screaming as Ben went down like a felled ox. Jasper had no right to punch Ben. Ben hadn’t done anything.
‘Stay out of this
, Daisy,’ said Jasper, standing over Ben, who was struggling to push himself up to a sitting position with one hand, whilst keeping the shawl from revealing too much of himself with the other.
‘Just a minute,’ said James, stepping closer and pushing his face into Jasper’s. ‘What did you mean about them trying to get Daisy to marry one of them? And sinking to depths? Did you put him up to this?’
‘Just stay out of this, James,’ snarled Jasper.
‘I will not,’ snarled James right back. ‘If you have been responsible for getting your idiot friends to tamper with Daisy’s virtue...’
‘Oh, take a damper,’ said Jasper unwisely. Causing James to punch him in the face.
Ben, who really did appear to be a master tactician, took advantage of the fact that her two brothers had turned on each other, to try to get to his feet.
Instantly they both forgot their own quarrel and turned on him instead. James hit Ben in the stomach, and when he doubled over, Jasper hit him in the face again. And down he went.
‘Stop it, stop it,’ she shrieked as Ben rolled to his side with a groan. Normally, whenever her brothers and their friends got into one of their brawls, she beat a hasty retreat. But then they’d never started a fight over her before. And it didn’t feel right to just walk off and leave Ben to fight both of them. Even though she was pretty certain he could give a good account of himself. He was, after all, taller than any of her brothers, and a good deal more heavily muscled. And he had used to be something of a scrapper. It was how he’d broken his collar bone all those years ago, after all. He’d been defending his section of the ruins with such determination it had taken five of them to overwhelm him. And even then he claimed they’d only been able to do so because he’d missed his footing and fallen off the turret altogether. He’d defended his position, then, with the ferocity of a tiger. Where was that ferocity now?
‘You cowards,’ she yelled. ‘Let him fight fairly.’
But he wouldn’t let go of the shawl he’d knotted round his waist. Which was ridiculous. He hadn’t shown any hint of modesty when he’d stripped off at the lake.
Harlequin Historical September 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 Page 4
