“Of course I am. I am perfectly cognizant of how fortunate my position is, compared to others.”
Faith stood, now truly concerned. “I did not mean to—”
“I can see you wish privacy.” With a curtsy, she headed for the door, then looked back. “By the way, Lady Faith, your father has requested that you remain in your room for the rest of the day.”
With that, Mrs. Hutchinson left the room.
Faith sighed. That was probably why her companion had come. She had likely wanted to keep Faith busy so she would not feel the punishment her father had meted out. Instead, like an ungrateful child, Faith had been cross with her and then sent her away. She would make it up to her later.
As for her father’s decision to keep Faith housebound, that did not make her anxious to share her concerns with him about Mr. Granger. And such a conversation would merely upset her mother. So what was she expected to do? Cower in her room?
Rebellion stiffened Faith’s spine.
Through the window and across the back yard, the woods beckoned. She walked briskly out of her room and skirts lifted, raced down the servants’ stairs and out the back door.
The last time she had gone to the lake, Daniel had followed. That would not happen again. He wanted nothing more to do with her. So she must work out what to do about Mr. Granger for herself.
AT THE EDGE OF the woods where he had last bid Faith goodbye, Daniel stashed his satchel within a thick bush before he scaled a nearby tree to contemplate the Duke of Burley’s mansion. Below, Phoenix explored the overgrown grass, swatting at spiders and chasing field mice. He had brought the cat along, hoping Phoenix might soften the message he had to give Faith.
The sun dissipated the early morning mist while Daniel kept an eye out for the watchman who patrolled the duke’s grounds. In the last hour, Daniel had formed and discarded a dozen plans on how to reach Faith and had yet to come up with one that would not get him arrested.
Fifty feet ahead, the back garden gate swung open. He pulled his feet out of sight in case it was the watchman setting out on his rounds. It was not. Faith ran out, and Daniel’s chest swelled with relief and pleasure. She sprinted across the meadow, heading straight for the woods.
She was going to that clearing by the lake again, after he had warned her it was too dangerous. But today, he was not tempted to scold her. This would give them a chance to speak.
He waited for her to pass him before he jumped down and called to the cat. He left his bag where he had hidden it, and with Phoenix riding his shoulder, he leisurely followed her. Then he heard a loud splash.
Heart racing, he sped to the clearing. Phoenix scrambled off his shoulders as he came to a skidding halt at the bank. Faith’s shawl, gown and shoes lay discarded by his feet. His stunned mind grappled with the notion that Faith was in the lake. And she was apparently enjoying herself.
“Lady Faith,” he shouted, but the call was barely an audible croak. Fear had constricted his throat.
She heard him, though, and paused to look back. On spotting him, she waved a wet arm. The happy greeting brought her to the surface and her rounded bosom rose clearly for his inspection. Her gaze followed his stunned stare and she sank lower, her arms covering her upper body.
But it was too late.
Faith’s wet muslin shift left nothing to the imagination. Daniel swallowed, his arousal vying with his fear for her safety. “Come out at once.”
His voice sounded a fraction stronger and less like a chicken being strangled.
“Why?” Faith gave him a mischievous grin before she swam closer, her bare arms stroking across the water. She stopped ten paces from shore. “I swim here often, Daniel, did I not tell you that? Since you said you would never be back, I saw no reason to stay modestly covered.”
He did not know how to answer that. He was flooded with all kinds of emotions, worry, desire, but uppermost was dread that as long as she remained in the water, she was in danger. It was a peril to which she seemed oblivious. Staring into her confident gaze, he could not bring himself to voice his greatest fear, so he fell back on the obvious. “Anyone could find you like this. Please, come out of the lake.”
She made no move to obey. “Not anyone, Daniel. Not since the last time a servant stumbled across this area while I swam and my father dismissed him. That was four years ago.”
Yet he had not forbidden his daughter to return here? Daniel was furious at a father who would allow a child to put herself in such a compromising situation. Intruders were not the only danger. Anything could be lurking beneath that placid surface. His toes were inching to race in and pull her onto solid ground. “You should not be there alone.”
Faith moved her arms in a circular motion. “My father understands my love of water, so he warned the servants that if I am ever disturbed, it would incur his wrath.”
“But—”
“He also ensured that a trusted watchman patrols these grounds during daylight hours, on the lookout for poachers and stragglers. Jackson always stays far enough away to allow me privacy, but close enough that if I shout, he could come running.” Faith’s head tilted sideways as she contemplated Daniel. “I do wonder how you have made it past him to visit me here, twice now. He is usually very vigilant.”
“The man with the cap, musket, and brown boots?”
“Yes. You have seen him?”
“I avoided him.” Why could they not have this conversation after she came out of the water?
Faith chuckled. “You must be very good, for Jackson’s uncannily sharp at spotting intruders. I used to think he had second sight, for he always knew when I came to the lake. Then Elsie, my maid, told me that he insisted on having quarters that faced the back garden so he would know when I sneak out.”
“Then I had best not linger.” Daniel checked behind him, expecting to see a musket aimed at his back. “Nor should you. Despite how your father feels about the matter, it is not safe to be in the water alone.”
She ignored his reprimand and focused on him. “Stay.”
Daniel glanced around the lake, partly to see if anything else disturbed the surface, but also to seek the words to refuse a request with which he wanted to comply.
While he was petrified of even the tip of his boots touching that deadly liquid surface, she seemed happy to float in the lake all day. Yet, out she must come. “My lady, this is hardly a respectable situation.” He pointed at her gown carelessly strewn by his feet. “You are not properly covered.”
“Those are not your usual boots,” Faith said. “They are lighter in color and the right one no longer has a hole.”
“I wore through the sole of the other ones.” Daniel flushed with mortification that she had noticed the sad state of his previous boots. He shuffled in his new boots which were only twice passed around but were a size too big. That small concern had been dealt with adequately by stuffing material at the front of each before he put them on. “The point is, you should be wearing your clothes.”
Her sweeping arms kept her afloat with surprising ease and her impish grin returned. “I still wear my shift, and stays, and my petticoats, though those are tied to my side so it will not hinder my legs as I move. . . .”
“Stop.” It was more an order for himself than her as his unruly mind disrobed Faith of each article she mentioned. Why had he come here? Morton! “My lady, I came to warn you.”
“About what, Daniel?”
“You must not marry the Duke of Morton.”
Her humor vanished. “I do not wish to speak of that.”
She pushed further into the lake. “I came to swim, and that is what I intend to do.”
His pulse thudded. He was running out of time. Soon she would be too far away for him to reach her. And who knew what lurked in the lake’s dark depths?
Threats and decorum had
failed, but he had an ace he had not played yet. “Phoenix.”
The kitten, which had jumped off his shoulder when Daniel raced to this clearing, gave up his staring match with a hare twice his size and turned to Daniel. A snap of fingers and the cat raced over, leapt up, and sloped across his shoulder.
“My lady,” he called. “Look who I brought with me.”
Faith checked and then gave a squeal of delight. Immediately, she stroked back toward the shore and him.
Daniel grinned. If he had remembered the kitten earlier, he could have had her by his side long ago.
She paused a few feet from shore. “Oh, he is adorable, Daniel, but I cannot come out while you are watching me.”
She was all modesty now, but Daniel distrusted her pious pose. Nevertheless, he turned around. “Happy?”
Phoenix, his wary tail flicking the underside of Daniel’s chin, shifted so he could keep an eye on the stranger.
Lucky kitty. Not hearing any further sounds of water splashing, he checked on her. She was still neck-deep in the lake. “What is wrong now?”
“I only just began my swim. So I have thought of a better idea. I will play with the kitten later.” Faith sent him a sensual smile. The woman was as dangerous as that lake. “If you are concerned on my behalf, why do you not join me?”
He swung around, scowling. He had confessed why he disliked water—it had almost drowned him once. What he had not admitted was that in the mind of that terrified six-year-old, fear of water had evolved into something bigger. But he was not about to admit that to her, so he settled on, “I do not know how to swim.”
Her impish smile widened. “I could teach you.”
He took a step backward, afraid that if she kept looking at him like that, he might be tempted to enter the water in spite of himself. “I have no wish to learn.”
She swam closer. “It would make me very happy.”
“Lakes are treacherous.” He paused. “Any manner of monster could be lurking under that surface.” He clenched his teeth the moment the words slipped out. Too late.
Her laughter rang through the clearing, silencing the birds.
He folded his arms. She reacted in exactly the way he had feared. But however preposterous his qualms, they did not deserve ridicule. “Very well. Stay there. Do not think I will rescue you when a water beast grabs your ankle and pulls you under.”
He marched to the nearby willow and leaned against it.
Phoenix scampered to the ground to play with the sunlight filtering in through the branches. The cat trapped a ray of light and then leaped up in feigned alarm, his back arched.
Daniel snapped off a twig and ripped the leaves off while he pretended to nonchalantly study the kitten’s antics.
FAITH’S SKIN COOLED as she floated and watched Daniel and the kitten. She so wanted to go over and cuddle that cute little bundle of black fur. But something about Daniel held her back.
His posture told her he did not give a fig whether she stayed where she was or came out. Yet, his long fingers crushing leaves told an acutely different story. He desperately wanted her to join him on solid land. No, it was more than that.
He was terrified of being so close to the lake. Waves of fear emanated from Daniel as clearly as they had from her last night when Mr. Granger’s hand locked onto her wrist. That reminder stirred her fury—for her and for Daniel. And Faith desperately wanted to eliminate Daniel’s fear. But to do that, she must get him into the water. She slapped the lake’s surface. No one should ever feel that unsafe.
His head snapped around at the splash and an idea popped into Faith’s mind. It was a devilishly wicked idea. She bobbed a moment and then glanced around sharply, as if worried about something underwater. A side-glance showed Daniel had straightened and stepped toward her.
He called out, “What is wrong?”
She gave a little cry and sank underwater.
“Faith!”
Through the clear water, she spied him enter the lake, his new brown boots disturbing the loose soil. Her lips curled with mischief and she raised her arms and frantically waved.
At her loud splash, he stumbled toward her, making it too muddy to follow his movement. Her knight had come to rescue her, again. Just as she thought he would. No matter how frightened he might be, he would always come to her aid. But she did not want him to stumble past the point where the lake deepened sharply.
She surfaced, looking for him, and two strong arms grabbed her and hauled her toward a masculine chest. Daniel’s fear was clear in his eyes as he barely kept his face above water. “Hold still. I have you.”
She folded her arms around his neck and impulsively kissed his wet cheek. “Will you allow me to teach you to swim now?”
He stared at her in silence. “This was a ruse.”
“I never want you to feel this frightened again,” she whispered, smoothing his wet hair off his forehead.
Chapter Nine
DANIEL COULD NOT believe he was chin-deep in water. More surprisingly, he was holding Faith so close her bosom was pressed intimately against his chest and his palms hugged her luscious bottom. His fear floated away, replaced by a yearning he would not mind drowning in.
“Will you?” She eyed him in earnest.
“Will I what?” Kiss her, caress her, and make love to her? Yes, yes and yes!
“Allow me to teach you to swim?”
Unable to think of a rational, sensible answer, he nodded.
She smiled triumphantly. “Then take off your boots.”
“Why?” Anything could lurk in this lake’s murky bottom. His boots were his only protection.
“They are too heavy to swim with. And, trust me, Daniel. I have played in this lake all of my life. There are no water beasts in here, except for a trout or two.”
Now he was in the lake, his fears did seem absurd. “I will have to release you first.”
Before he had finished speaking, she pushed herself backward and dove away, only to surface on his other side.
While he could scarcely move without slipping, she swam with confidence and agility. “Are you a water nymph?”
“Off with your boots.”
He stumbled back a few steps and bent to take one off, and ended up with a nose full of water. He straightened and sneezed, then made his way back to shore. Sloshing onto land, he sat and pulled off his boots, emptying each before tossing it aside, all the while wondering if he had gone mad.
Next, he removed his jacket, for it, too, had been restrictive. In the process of setting that aside, he paused, enjoying having solid ground beneath his bottom. Now that some distance separated him and Faith, he reconsidered his decision. Why did he need to learn to swim, anyway? As long as he avoided any body of water, he never needed to know how.
She must have sensed his reluctance, for she came close enough to stand on the lake’s bottom, clearly revealing her bosom beneath her soaked shift. His breath caught in his throat as his gaze focused on a strawberry birthmark above her left breast that ached to be kissed. She held out her arms to him.
Thoroughly aroused, Daniel sucked in a deep breath. A fragile sense of contentment sprouted in his chest. And with it came confidence. Instead of joining her, he slowly got to his feet and stripped off his sopping wet cravat and waistcoat. They joined the pile of discarded clothing on the shore. Faith’s teasing smile vanished and she swallowed convulsively. In just his shirtsleeves and breeches, he stepped back into the water.
Faith retreated.
Despite it being the start of summer, the water was cold. When he strode in earlier, he had not noticed the temperature in his worry for her. Now he shivered as his toes curled into the muddy lake bottom, trying to find firm grip.
He had gone no more than a few steps before the bottom dropped away and he was shoulder-deep
in trouble again. Splashing, he stumbled backward until he found firmer footing. He spat out a mouthful of lake water. Confidence shattered, he glared at her, for she was laughing again. “I do not care for water, my lady. I am more a man of fire. The two elements do not mix.”
“I had heard.” She smiled. “Before noon, you shall master water, too, Daniel.”
“I can see you believe this lesson to be important for me. But why is it so important to you?”
A lurking shadow crossed her features. “If you overcome your fear of water, I shall tell you.”
“Faith.” They were close enough now for him to brush her cheek with a wet finger. “Did something frighten you?”
Taking his hand, she led him farther into the lake until the surface lapped against his chin. Then she put her hand on the back of his neck. “Lie back.”
Something or someone had frightened her. That alarmed him more than the lake. He wanted to protect her, keep her safe. Yet, that was not his role. Still, for this one morning, he could distract her from her fear. Swallowing his trepidation, he leaned back. Her arms slid under him to support his head and back, but she was surely too small to support his heavy body.
“Be at ease, Daniel. Do not resist.”
He had been thrashing his arms and feet. With effort, he released his tension. To his astonishment, his body floated.
“That is right. Stay calm. The water is your friend. It will support and embrace you and help you find air. Trust me, Daniel. I will not mislead you.”
She said the last with such earnestness, he believed her.
So the lesson went. She gently showed him the power of floating, how it was not she, but the water, that carried him. It was a monumental discovery for a boy, a man, who had assumed only death awaited him within this liquid cradle.
Now, by releasing his fears, he found a partner to embrace him as lovingly as a mother. No! Better. He had seen mothers discard their children when they no longer served a purpose.
A Scorching Dilemma Page 10
