Page 52 of Wit, Wiles and Courtship

They did not heed their mother, and Camilla felt a spear of alarm. Before she could run after them, Pembroke sprinted to where the boys were climbing on top of a wet rock at the side of the creek. He reached them just as one slipped into the frigid water, and the other went to grab his twin, following suit. Pembroke was prepared. Plunging one leg into the creek up to mid-thigh, he reached down with both hands and plucked the boys out of the water. He was forced to put his second foot to catch his balance and pull them to land. They were thoroughly drenched, blond hair plastered to their heads and, from the way they shivered, looked as though their lips would turn blue on the instant.

“Famous!” Tom said, laughing.

“Yes, famous,” Pembroke said drily, escorting both boys to their mother by their arms. “And you see the tokens were not in the water after all, but right here in plain sight away from the water.”

Lady Mary tried to wipe down their arms and chests, fretting at what the wind would do to them given their wet clothes.

Even Mr. Moffat showed concern. “We will take them immediately to the house and dry them,” he told his wife.

“We will help you,” Camilla said.

“No!” both boys exclaimed together. Henry added, “We need only one more token to win. The stone wall. You have to get it for us.”

Camilla looked to Pembroke to see what he wished to do, and he paused before calling out after his sister. “Mary?”

“We will be fine. Find the last token, for heaven’s sake.” She was nearly at a run in the direction of the house, pulling Henry by the arm, with Mr. Moffat hurrying beside Tom.

“I hope they will not catch cold,” Camilla said, frowning as she watched them leave. Lady Mary might be brusque but the love she felt for her sons was evident.

“They are rarely sick, from what I understand.” Pembroke lifted a soaked boot, catching Camilla’s eye. The pantaloons above the boots were wet. “Fortunately, neither do I, but I must say this is dashed uncomfortable. My valet will turn in his notice.”

“Do you need to lean on me for support, Lord Pembroke?” Camilla offered with spurious sympathy. She did not want to show him that she was a little concerned for him as well.

His brows lifted. “Well now that you mention it…” He came over and draped his arm around her shoulder, allowing what felt like, but was probably not, his full weight to fall on her.

“No, no,” she said, laughing and extricating herself from his embrace. “I am truly sorry for your wet boots. I am sure it is indeed uncomfortable.” Her heart was beating from his nearness and from the nervousness she felt at their exchange, which had grown in intensity—as if they were flirting. As if he cared for her in earnest. “Let us hurry to this last place and win the contest for your nephews.”

He had gone still and was watching her. She felt it, though she pretended to examine the ivory domino that served as the token for the creek.

“Very well,” he said at last. “I do not precisely know where this stone wall is, but I have an idea.”

As they walked forward, she could hear the squelch in his boots, and her heart wrung in sympathy. Despite her love of the wind, it could be vastly unpleasant when one was wet. “I hope the boys each have their four tokens in the pocket of their coats.”

“As do I.”

They followed a smaller path through the woods that was more of a trail. Green leaves rustled above them, but it was otherwise quiet. Camilla did not hear anyone else nearby. Pembroke, uncharacteristically silent, moved forward with purpose, and she was concerned that the cold was bothering him more than he let on.

“Should we turn back? Perhaps you are not quite comfortable.”

“We are close now,” he said, holding a branch that blocked the path so she might walk by it. His eyes sought hers again, but the expression on his face had become grave, and she did not know why. He gestured in front of them. “If I am not mistaken, it is on the other side of this boulder.”

She looked up. The massive stone was flanked by trees and covered in moss, and appeared as though the other side must continue on to steeper ground. Curious, she followed him around the boulder and there discovered a perfectly formed stone wall with barely a crevice to mar its surface. It was so smooth, it looked as though it had been plastered over.

“This is the place,” she said, looking to the top. “And you had not seen it before?”

“No. Weatherby spoke of it to me and told me roughly where it was found. I happened to remember it being near the abandoned cottage.” On his right was one remaining token set on a bit of stone that jutted out from the wall, a dart with a red feather that he picked up and handed to her.

“Well, what do you know? We are the last to find this one. And here I thought it would be the most difficult site.”

“Let us go and win, then,” she said, turning suddenly so that she almost ran into his chest. He put his hand on the wall, hemming her in with his arm, and lifted a finger to her lips. Only then did she hear sounds of running feet on the path along the other side of the boulder.

“We have only two more. The cottage must be this way for there are fields.” It was Evo’s voice.

Pembroke kept his finger on her lips as they listened to the fading footsteps. Camilla’s whole body was overtaken by the sensation of breathlessness and her heart fluttering. He stood entirely too close to her and kept her captive with his finger on her lips, and his arm standing guard. She wished he would not make it so difficult for her to resist him, for she did not trust him.

When all sounds of their competition had died away, he removed his finger and dropped his eyes to hers. He froze, staring, as though he too had just become aware of their proximity. Camilla’s back was to the stone cliff, and her eyes went up to his involuntarily. Her traitorous eyes. She knew there was an invitation in them.

“Why do you keep me here?”