Page 119 of The Belle of Belgrave Square

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“I think so.” She walked alongside him down to the bank of the pond. The children splashed nearby, oblivious to any shyness or discomfort Julia might be feeling. “Is the water very cold?”

“Let’s see.” Jasper stepped into it ahead of her.

And that’s when she saw it. A sight that stopped her heart from flip-flopping and her stomach from trembling. It was his back—broad and lean and muscular as all the rest of him. It was scarred, too. But not with cuts like the one on his face and chest, and not with bullet wounds. These scars were uniform, one laid down after the other as if made with the same implement over and over again.

Julia had never seen anything like it, but some part of her recognized it for what it was. He’d been beaten. Flogged.

She couldn’t comprehend it.

Who on earth would have had the temerity to flog the notorious Captain Blunt?

Twenty-Six

The water rose up around Jasper, first to his waist, then to his chest, hiding his scars from view. He turned back to Julia.

“Your turn now,” he said. “The temperature’s perfect.”

It was all she could do to keep her countenance. “I’m coming.”

She dipped a toe into the water. It was cool, but not unbearably so. She walked into it as he had, slowly and deliberately submerging herself as she made her way out to where he stood. Her teeth chattered, all thoughts of the whip marks on his back forgotten. “It’s freezing!”

“It won’t be for long,” he said. “Not once you start moving.”

She took another few steps. The uneven bed of the pond was slippery beneath her feet. As she walked deeper, the hem of her chemise floated up from her body. She slapped a hand down over it. “Oh, this is dreadful,” she muttered. “I don’t think I like it at all.”

“You’re not even swimming yet.” His large hands closed around her waist. He drew her toward him as he stepped back further into the pond. “Here. Come deeper with me.”

She clutched at his shoulders. “I can’t feel the bottom anymore!”

“I have you. I’ll not let you si nk.”

“You had better n ot,” she warned him. “If I drown in this pond—”

“You’ll not drown.”

“—I shall come back to haunt you.”

He gave her a fleeting grin. “‘Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad.’”

Her fingers dug into his muscles. “You said this wasn’t like Wuthering Heights.”

“Thank God for that. I much prefer you alive.” He spun her in a slow circle, taking her even deeper.

Some of the chill dissipated as she acclimated to the water. It was actually quite comfortable. The perfect temperature, just as he’d said. Gleaming rays of sunlight reflected on the pond’s dark surface in sparkling glints, warming her damp hair and face. She moved her legs, feeling strangely weightless.

“You’re floating,” Jasper said.

“I’m not. You’re holding me up.”

His hands loosened at her waist. “It’s you, not me. See? The human body is buoyant in the water.”

She held on to him even tighter. “If that’s the case, how do you account for so many people drowning in the sea?”

“You’re not going to drown,” he said again. “So long as you remember not to panic.”

Further down the pond, the boys were splashing each other and shouting. Daisy was encouraging them with piercing shrieks of laughter.