“Relax,” Faith said.
That was hard to do when he was cold and in unfamiliar territory. Could he affect his temperature? He had only ever used his talent to light a fire, until last night. Could he do more? Heat his body? The idea was intriguing.
He pictured warming himself from his center outward. Instantly, he stopped shivering. How extraordinary! Was Faith cold? Could he warm her too? No, he could not risk burning her.
“I usually find the lake cold when I first come in,” Faith said, “especially in the mornings. But today the water seems warm. Which might explain why you are doing so well.”
“Do you believe so?” He glanced at her and wondered if his presence impacted the water’s heat.
“I know so. See.” She held up first one hand and then the other to show he stayed afloat solely on the water’s powers. “I am no longer holding you.”
Daniel grinned. It was an incredible experience, lying on the lake’s surface. Overhead, puffs of white clouds drifted by, at first hiding the sun, then revealing it in all its glory. What a grand day this had turned out to be!
“We are designed to either float or sink. One never knows which until one tries.” Faith leaned back and floated beside him. “You are a natural floater, Daniel.”
“What if I had been a sinker? You should have told me before we began.”
She chuckled. “Then how would we know which one you were?”
“I thank you, my lady, for if ever I am tossed in the water, I can float while my assailant bashes away at me.”
“Sarcasm, sir, is a tool of land, not water.”
This conversation made him remember the last time he had been in the water. Could that be why he had survived that near-fatal experience? Because he was a natural floater? Instead of drowning him, could the Thames have been his savior?
She took his hand and he wove his fingers through hers. There was a sense of rightness about this moment, lying here, side-by-side, gazing at a bright blue sky. A flock of starlings flew past.
“I could stay like this forever,” he said.
“It is one of the reasons I love coming here.”
He lay still, absorbing the quiet and then asked, “What is the other reason?”
When she did not respond, thinking she had not heard him with her ears submerged, he rose upright. “Why else do you come here, Faith?”
She, too, came upright and moved her arms to show him how to stay afloat with ease. Once he was floating steadily, she said, “It helps me forget there is a harsh world out there that I must face.”
He reached for her fingers and squeezed. “The real world is not always kind. It must help, though, to have family to support you.”
“It was that way in the past.”
“No longer?”
“I am to be married. When I move into my husband’s home, I must rely on the people there to support me. And if I cannot . . .”
“Faith, that is exactly why I came today. You must not marry the Duke of Morton.” He straightened so he could look at her and lost his balance. He thrashed in panic, trying to keep his head above water. Faith tugged him closer to shore until he could stand firmly on his feet.
She smiled gently, reminding him of her promise to watch over him. She was such a brave and compassionate girl. Even though he no longer needed her support, he did not want to let her go. Giving into a wildly inappropriate impulse, he kissed her, tenderly drawing her closer, prolonging the contact.
She returned his kiss with an innocent passion. Her arms held him close and one of her legs wrapped around his, swiftly bringing him to the point where a kiss no longer sufficed. He turned into her embrace and lost his footing. He released Faith, afraid he would endanger her and immediately lost his grip on the lake’s slippery floor. He sank like a stone.
The water was dark and yet familiar. Hands had pushed him down. Held him underwater. Feeling that hold on his shoulders, he fought back. But these arms were persistent, firmly wrapping around his chest and tugging him to the surface.
Daniel gasped for air and lost himself in her worried gaze.
“You are safe, Daniel. I will not allow you to drown.” She was calm in the face of his clinging hands as she drew him to a lesser depth and helped him find his feet.
“That will teach me to step outside my boundaries,” he said, shaking his head to get water out of his ears, and hoping she had not noticed his utter panic. If she had, she did not say a word. And he loved her for that mercy.
She wiped his hair back, her eyes twinkling. “I believe it is time for the next stage of our lesson.”
She had better mean his lesson in lovemaking, and not hers on swimming. Because he was done with this fickle lake. He bent to kiss her, but she slipped out of his grasp.
“Daniel, you promised you would allow me teach you to swim.” Of a sudden, she was very serious. “You will not distract me from that purpose, sir, not with questions, and certainly not with kisses, however delightful they might be.”
He sighed with resignation. “That is not possible in one morning, Faith. I can barely float.”
“What I am going to show you next is a variation on the float. We will stay in the shallows, but I want you to use your arms to move you about.”
She led him into slightly deeper water. Once he floated, she showed him how to swing his arms in wide circles so he could move about with purpose. The hardest bit was remembering to keep his head back. When he leaned back, the rest of him, like magic, always rose to the surface. Once he mastered that lesson, she made him turn onto his front. It was a terrifying prospect.
Daniel shut his eyes tight, not wanting to see what was beneath him, and held his breath. Under her guidance, his feet floated to the surface. Faith made him repeat this process. Soon, however, he began to question the usefulness of this exercise. It was neither as pleasurable as lying on his back and looking at the sky, nor as effective in moving him about the lake. Then she taught him how to roll onto his back from this frontal floating position, proving he need never again fear being tossed into the water and not being able to breathe.
If that ever happened, he could simply roll onto his back and he would have access to all the air he needed. The miracle of such a simple solution left him flabbergasted.
By the time Faith called a halt to his lessons, he had successfully paddled to the middle of the lake and back, once. Daniel was as exhausted as he had been last night, lying on the Killians’ sitting room floor, helpless.
Back on shore, he went into the woods to give her privacy to put her gown back on. He was also famished, so he went in search of his satchel. After last night, he would never again be caught without sustenance. He had brought enough food for two.
Retrieving the bag, he headed back, chomping on a stick of cheese. The sensation of his wet breeches clinging to his limbs gave him an idea. He had been able to warm himself in the lake, so why not his clothes? He focused on his legs until they tingled with heat. Then a piece of cloth by his left knee burst into flame. He swatted it and lowered his temperature. Soon his breeches steamed as if he had held them over a flame. In moments, his clothes were dry. Wrinkled and scorched here and there, but dry.
He returned to find Faith lying on the grass on her stomach, allowing the hot mid-morning sun to dry her damp clothing.
He tore off a piece of fresh bread and offered it to her along with some cheese and dried beef. While she teased Phoenix with a piece of meat, he lay beside her, still amazed that he had been in a lake and had not drowned. Today, he had learned not only how to swim, but how to use his fire-shifting in a whole new way. As she extended a finger for Phoenix to sniff, Daniel held his left arm above her back and moved his hand from her shoulders downward, releasing heat waves to dry and warm her.
Once her clothing was steaming, he rested his head on his fis
t and watched her play with the kitten. While he was exhausted, Faith did not seem in the least winded. She looked content.
She tickled Phoenix’s tail with a blade of grass until the feline gave an annoyed hiss and strolled over to sit within the crook of Daniel’s arm, his tail tucked neatly around his body.
“Daniel,” she said, “if you stare at me any harder, I am likely to think you can see through me.”
Guilt scorched his cheeks. “I may be a servant, my lady, but I am also a man. Kindly remember that in future.”
“Do we have a future?”
He gave her a hard look. “More to the point is your future. You must not marry Morton. I do not say this out of jealousy, though that is alive in me. But I have seen that family and there is something evil about them. You must tell your father you have changed your mind.”
“I have tried.” She ripped a blade of grass in two. “He is determined on the match. I have a plan, though.” She gave him a quick side-glance. “It is your Lady Roselyn’s idea. I am to find a more suitable husband at an upcoming ball.”
Daniel studied the shimmering leaves of a nearby willow. He should be thrilled to hear this news. So, why did he feel worse? Because the real world had caught up to them.
He had given her his warning. It was time he bid the lady farewell. Then he remembered her promise. “You said, if I conquered my fear of water, you would tell me what alarmed you.”
Faith switched to lying on her back, allowing the sun to dry the front of her clothing. He did not dare warm this side of her. If he tried, he was more likely to let his hand settle over her delectable bosom and that would never do.
Instead, he gently ran a finger across her soft pale cheek and down her neck to the tip of the strawberry mark visible on the rounded curve of her bodice. “A promise is a promise.”
She sat up and hugged her knees. “Morton has a half-brother. His name is Mr. Charles Granger.”
The news grew worse and worse. “The man who followed you on Bond Street?”
She nodded.
Daniel sat cross-legged, facing her. The three shadow-figures in Morton’s drawing room loomed to life. “Is Granger taller and larger than the duke?”
Her nod confirmed his suspicions and the peril that family posed to Faith. He took her into his arms and she snuggled in, wrapping her arms tight around his body. She smelled of fresh cut grass and clean lake water.
“He frightened you?”
Again, she nodded. Then, in halting words, she spoke of Granger ordering his brother away, so she would be left alone in his company. How she had felt trapped by his fierce hold on her arm and his lewd proposition. “Daniel, he intimated that once I am married, I would be under his control.”
His muscles clenched in fury.
The kitten left his nap in the sunshine to scramble up to Daniel’s shoulder and sat purring loudly, as if in comfort.
“What did your father say when you told him of this?”
“I did not tell him.”
He set her back so he could look her in the eyes. “Why not? If he knew, he would never countenance this match.”
“My father has been cross with me of late. What if he blames me for this, too?”
“This is not your fault, Faith. Your father loves you and would never think that.” Daniel hugged her close, picturing her in Morton’s sitting room surrounded by the duke’s menacing family. He kissed her wet hair, which set it steaming. “If Granger ever lays a hand on you again, I will kill him.”
They stayed quietly by the lake for several moments. A short while later, Daniel escorted Faith to the edge of her woods and watched her until she safely entered her garden gate. Then he trudged home. He entered the kitchen to the clatter of dishes, the cook shouting orders, and footmen hurrying through doors. It must be luncheon. Sir Phillip had often told Daniel that part of his duty as butler involved supervising that service. Yet, Daniel had never once done so.
Today, his place in society settled on him like an uncomfortable but necessary cloak. He appreciated all that Sir Phillip and Lady Roselyn had done for him, and for Faith. And he wanted to show his appreciation.
He raced upstairs, and after a swift wash and change, with Phoenix riding his shoulder, he entered the dining room through the green baize door, determined to perform his duty.
Chatter died as family and servants became aware of Daniel’s unexpected presence. Phoenix took that pregnant pause to scamper off his shoulder and race under the dining table. The ladies shrieked and lifted their feet, no doubt still anticipating the treatment Phoenix had given them before.
Daniel ignored the commotion and focused on Randal, the underbutler, who had come to a startled halt. The man had been in the process of carrying a wine bottle toward Sir Phillip. Daniel took the bottle from him. A flurry followed as servants readjusted their roles to accommodate having the butler present to perform his duties.
Daniel ignored Sir Phillip’s raised eyebrow and filled his half-empty wine glass, but his thoughts were mired with Faith’s dilemma. Why was her father so determined on this match? How could Daniel stop Granger from harming Faith? Which of these two families were behind the theft of those royal buckles? And how and why did that involve Faith?
Chapter Ten
AFTER HER TALK with Daniel by the lake, Faith returned to pace in her room, restless to do something about this matter of her engagement to the Duke of Morton. Since her father held the key to her happiness, she resolved to speak to him.
In a trice, she was downstairs, quizzing the butler about the duke’s whereabouts. She learned that her father was in the one place he was most likely to be found when hiding from his family—the stillroom by the kitchen. The butler added a gentle warning. “His grace will not be pleased to be disturbed there, my lady.”
“Thank you, Henley. I accept the risk.”
Her father often tinkered with potions, mixing ointments to heal wounds and brewing herbs to bring down fevers. If he had been born into an ordinary family, he would have become a physician. Still, her need was urgent, so disturb him she must.
The stillroom was divided in two, separated by a wall and a door. In one half, the stillroom maid concocted her jams and preserves. The other was her father’s private sanctum where he worked on his medicinal cures. If he was in there, the arrangement was that the stillroom maid would be absent next door, which gave Faith the privacy she needed. Tentatively, she knocked.
“Come in.”
Faith entered into a room that had two stained glass windows placed high on the wall to let in sunlight. Her father’s volumes on medicinal cures flanked him on two walls. A nearby stove warmed the place, and saved him the need to go to the kitchen to heat his potions. In the center of the room, like forgotten toys, bowls, bottles, mixing spoons, and open books lay scattered on the scarred surface of a long wooden table.
Above the table, colorful herbs hung from the ceiling to dry. She closed her eyes and inhaled the aromatic flavors of honeysuckle, thyme, and a faint pine-like scent—rosemary, perhaps? She loved guessing which herb was which.
She opened her eyes and swept her gaze toward the duke. He was reading a faded, leather-bound book with his spectacles resting on the bridge of his nose. “Papa.”
He gave her a cursory glance, then, without a word, returned his attention to his study.
Doubt crept in, followed by fear. Goose bumps rose on her forearms. She could wait for a better time. No. Taking a deep breath she approached closer. “I am sorry to bother you, Papa. But I am troubled and am in need of your counsel.”
Her father’s shoulders slumped.
Hers mimicked that action. Not so long ago, they had loved spending time together.
Absently, she scrunched a honeysuckle stem above her head. The dried branch released a bittersweet aroma. She released the stem, and t
he crumpled leaves floated onto the worktable. Behind her, the open door tempted her to flee this awkwardness. Yet, her safety depended on this interview. Mr. Granger’s vulgar suggestion surfaced and she quivered with horror.
I will not let any harm come to you, Daniel had whispered. That promise reminded her of the fact that he had strode into the lake to save her. Her lips curved in a smile and she squared her shoulders. Facing her fear that her father might no longer love her enough to want to protect her was no different than Daniel facing his monsters in the lake. Neither assumption was real. Twenty years of love could not have been feigned. She walked over to her father and knelt beside him.
He avoided her gaze, his attention fixed on his book.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Papa, when Morton and his family came here for supper three nights ago, Mr. Granger’s behavior toward me was inappropriate.”
He stiffened and glanced at her. “Did he hurt you?”
“He frightened me. He intimated that once Morton and I are wed, that I would be under his control.”
“You are to marry Morton, not Granger.” The duke laid his book on the table, along with his spectacles. He sat forward. “Has Morton ever done anything offensive?”
She hesitated. “He has been everything polite.”
“There you are then. Once you and Morton are married, simply speak to your husband if his brother vexes you, and he will take action. He is the duke, after all.”
“Morton is as fearful of his brother as I am.”
“Nonsense, child.” He shook his head when she would have spoken. “Once you are married, he will safeguard you.” He patted her head. “You are not conversant in the ways of men, Faith. They often feel the need to test for dominance. But that Morton is the duke is unalterable.”
“Papa, please hear me.” She clutched at his cold fingers. “Morton is frightened of his brother. And with good reason! Granger is evil, and will not rest until he has his way with me.”
He stood so abruptly, his chair crashed. “Why can you not understand that you are marrying Morton, not his family? Once you are wed, you will be the Duchess of Morton. If Morton’s mother and her other son prove a problem, they can be relegated to a distant estate. You will be in charge of both Morton’s home and his heart.”
A Scorching Dilemma Page 11
