Miss Cameron's Fall from Grace

by Helen Dickson

  ‘Very,’ she said.

  ‘Your cheeks are pink. Your eyes are gleaming. You look radiant.’

  ‘I attribute it all to you.’

  He lifted a brow. ‘Why to me?’

  ‘Because you are a wonderful man.’

  ‘A lucky man,’ he amended, a half-smile curling his lips.

  She dipped her eyes to a certain growing part of his anatomy. ‘And immodest,’ she remarked with a little giggle, ‘albeit most endearingly.’

  Seeing where her eyes were directed, laughing softly he dropped the bar of soap. It hit the water in front of her face and the splash left her spluttering and gasping for breath. She opened her eyes and, with a gasp of indignation over his outrageous audacity, playfully batted the water into his face, drawing a protesting shout from him, whereby he returned the favour, which soon evolved into a childish contest of playful splashing.

  The game ended when they heard someone knocking on the chamber door. Hungry now, their minds turned to food. They extracted themselves from the tub to eat their breakfast in more civilised circumstances.

  * * *

  The orphanage project was well underway. Delphine threw herself into making lists of what would be needed. Bedding was essential and the children would have to be clothed and fed and caretakers found to care for them. Aunt Celia also intended to open a school—the premises were large enough and, thanks to the enormous sums of money generously donated by some of Stephen’s friends, they were able to purchase books and slates and chalks and anything else to do with educating the children. Medicines and herbal remedies were also bought in, since children were always going down with fevers and sniffles.

  * * *

  On the day of the opening everything had been in order and everyone involved with the old orphanage had rallied round to help with the move. The children—some of them never having ventured beyond the grim alleyways of St Giles—revelled in their new home and the surrounding countryside. In no time at all they were chasing one another around the walled garden.

  By the end of the day, everything to do with Water Lane had been left behind. After hugging a tearful and enormously grateful Aunt Celia, Delphine, Stephen and young Maisie had left for their rented London home.

  In bed that night, an exhausted Delphine nestled in her husband’s arms. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘Without you none of this would have happened. The children would still be in Water Lane.’

  ‘I was glad to do it. You make me see something that all my life I have been aware of, but never really stopped to consider—that there are others out there not only without food and clothes and somewhere to lay their head, but worst of all without hope. You are a beautiful woman, Delphine. You are sincere and dedicated and passionate in what you do. You are also kind, caring and loving and strong.’ He placed a tender kiss on the top of her head. ‘Is there any wonder I fell in love with you?’

  Deeply touched by his words, she nestled closer into his arms. ‘I’m so glad you did, because loving you as I do, I couldn’t bear it if you didn’t love me.’

  ‘I do, desperately, and I will support you and cherish you all the days of my life. I have been fortunate—I didn’t realise how fortunate until I saw the orphanage in Water Lane for myself. I never wanted for anything when I was a child and was guilty of taking what I did have for granted. I think the children will be happy in their new home; when the older ones move on to begin apprenticeships, there will be room for more children who find themselves destitute through no fault of their own.’

  ‘Sadly there will always be destitute children. I wish it were possible to provide homes for them all.’

  ‘You can’t take care of all of them, my love. When I took you to Tamara, I remember you telling me that you’d always found something missing in your life, while having a sense of knowing there was so much out there you could not see. You said if you could find it, it would make the whole world shine.’

  Tilting her head, she stared at him in disbelief. ‘I’m amazed you should remember that.’

  ‘I often thought about you and the things you said when I was in Spain. It made life more bearable. So, Delphine, have you found what you were looking for? Does the world now shine for you?’

  She looked at him lovingly. ‘I found it the moment you came back from Spain. It shines more than I could ever have imagined. May we go home now—back to Tamara?’

  Stephen smiled, pulling her further down the bed. ‘Anything you wish, my love.’

  Epilogue

  They had been at Tamara for six months. The day was wonderfully warm, the first suitable day of the season when at long last Delphine found the opportunity to drag her husband down to the beach. She waded into the surf, feeling the caress of icy water on her legs. Facing the gentle breeze blowing off the water, with her hair free of pins she felt it ripple against her back and laughed with the thrill of it.

  Turning to her husband, she held out her hand. ‘You promised to teach me to swim, remember?’

  ‘How could I forget? Ever since we returned from London you’ve nagged me about it on a daily basis.’

  She threw him a look of mock offence. ‘I never nag.’

  Tearing his gaze from his lovely young wife, Stephen made a slow scan of the calm sea, considering how best to teach her. The waves lapped and sucked at their bare feet. ‘You do realise how cold it is?’

  ‘I’ll survive.’ She cocked him an impudent smile. ‘Perhaps it is you who fears the cold. Is that it, Stephen?’ Unable to resist teasing this handsome husband of hers, Delphine waded out until she was knee deep in sea water and, bending over, scooped up a handful and doused him.

  It was all the encouragement he needed. With a shout of laughter, in an instant he was wading into the water after her as she ran headlong into the waves, wearing nothing more than her chemise. The shock of the water hit her when it reached her thighs. It snatched her breath away. Her body went rigid and she sucked in her belly, bracing herself as the waves lapped higher.

  Stephen was naked to the waist, clad only in black trousers that fitted him like a second skin rolled up to his knees. The long white scar on his chest provided a brutal reminder of the time he had been wounded at Salamanca, but these were happier days indeed.

  Stephen caught her and pulled her to him until only their heads showed above the water. She held on to his shoulders as her senses reeled. She could not believe that the strong arms holding her to him, the lips tenderly, urgently devouring her own, the warmth, the smell, the lean, sinewy body were all real, were all hers for the taking. Pinned against his broad chest, she tasted salt water on his lips. His hands stroked soothingly up and down her spine beneath the waves.

  The unexpectedness of his action triggered an instant reaction in Delphine. It flashed like a powerful current, charging the air between them. Dizzily she slid her hands up his chest, trying to cling for support to the very object that was destroying her balance. Despite the coldness of the water, her blood ran warm with pleasure. When he eventually tore his lips from hers, he grinned down at her.

  ‘Has that warmed you up, my sweet?’

  She laughed at him. ‘It certainly doesn’t feel as cold as before.’

  ‘Right, my lady,’ Stephen said. ‘If you want me to teach you to swim, prepare yourself for your first lesson.’

  ‘What do I do first?’

  ‘Watch me.’ He demonstrated by striking out with long, expert strokes, showing her how to push out with her arms in an arc and work her legs at the same time.

  Captivated, Delphine watched as her husband propelled himself with steady strokes, his body a dark, sleek mass skimming the surface of the sun-kissed water, unable to tear her eyes away. As always when she observed his vigorous maleness, her response was immediate. She felt a shifting, an upheaval deep inside her
. From the very beginning, it was as if the essence of herself, the very rhythm of her being, had been altered to beat time with this man’s heart. Suddenly his body rose in an arc before he disappeared from sight. She held her breath until the moment he broke through the surface, planting his feet on the sea bed and shaking his dripping black hair like a dog.

  ‘Did you observe my movements?’ he asked, walking back to her.

  She laughed hysterically. ‘You looked like a frog!’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘It isn’t very dignified.’

  ‘Nobody said it was. Now you do it. I shall support you with my arms.’

  ‘Don’t you dare let me drown.’

  ‘I won’t.’

  Delphine bobbed down beneath the waves and looked ahead of her before stretching out her arms. Feeling Stephen’s arms beneath her chest and her belly, she lifted up her feet. He held her while she floated and then she tried to work her arms.

  ‘Open your legs wider,’ he instructed.

  She spluttered and laughed out loud. ‘For you, my lord, any time you desire it.’

  ‘Minx,’ he chided, chuckling low. ‘Keep your mind on trying to swim. Keep your body horizontal and bring your arms round. That’s right.’ With his arms beneath her, she managed a few strokes, her hair floating behind her on the surface of the sea. ‘You look like a beautiful red-haired mermaid,’ he remarked, his eyes dropping to the delectable shape beneath the surface.

  ‘Hopefully I shall be able to swim like one before long.’

  ‘You’re quite determined, are you not?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ No sooner had she uttered the word than he relaxed his arm supporting her chest and she sank like a stone. Striking out with her hands, she opened her mouth, gulping in a mouthful of sea water before she came spluttering back to the surface, choking and gasping for breath.

  ‘You let me go,’ she cried, wiping away the streaming hair covering her eyes.

  He laughed loud, his eyes glittering. ‘You’ll take a lot more dunkings before you learn to master it. It takes practice—a lot of practice—and we have all summer to do that. Come, let us rest a while.’

  Despite the cold water and her sodden chemise, trying to swim was invigorating and she revelled in the freedom of it. ‘No, I am not giving up until I get the hang of it. Let’s try again—and don’t you dare let me go until I tell you.’

  ‘I am at your disposal.’

  They tried again and again until Delphine at last struck out with her arms and lifted her feet from the sea bed, not realising until she had succeeded in accomplishing two strokes by herself that Stephen wasn’t holding her. When the realisation hit her, she put down her feet and shrieked with delight.

  ‘I did it—and I didn’t sink! Did you see?’

  ‘I did. I commend you, Delphine. Now there will be no stopping you—but you are not to try it alone—not until you are a strong swimmer.’

  Scooping his jubilant, dripping wife up into his arms, he began to wade back to shore. Not until then did they realise they had an audience of three. Maisie and young Davy, who had been the girl’s devoted slave from the moment she had appeared at Tamara, sat side by side on a boulder, their faces alight with laughter, while Lowenna, who had been playing in the sand, scrambled to her feet on seeing her mama and papa coming out of the sea. She ran toward them with her arms held high, her little face shining with glee, her cap of black curls bouncing delightfully.

  ‘Papa, teach me to swim like Mama,’ she squealed. ‘I want to be a mermaid, too.’

  Placing Delphine on her feet, Stephen swung his daughter up into the air. ‘And so you shall be, my darling girl—and then Papa will have two beautiful mermaids.’ Sitting her on his hip with one arm around her, he placed the other round his wife’s shoulders and, drawing her close, placed a loving kiss on the top of her wet head. ‘As long as you don’t join forces and swim off into the deep blue yonder.’

  Delphine tipped her head back and gazed at him, loving him so ardently she could scarce believe it. ‘Never—not unless you turn yourself into a merman and come with us.’

  He grinned. ‘What a wonderful idea.’

  * * * * *

  ISBN: 9781459227514

  Copyright © 2012 by Helen Dickson

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