Page 20 of Make Mine a Marquess

By the time the performance ended, and Phoebe had escaped to her room, her dress stuck to her skin and her tightly laced corset made it hard to breathe. All the women had returned to their bedchambers for a respite before the evening meal. Glancing outside her bedchamber window, the glistening lake beckoned. Soon the sun would go down, and it would be twilight. She could almost feel the cool water against her heated skin.

Why not?

She’d spent many afternoons swimming in the lake of her father’s country home. Of course, she’d been properly watched by her governess and she’d worn a bathing costume even though she hated the billowing skirt of her costume because it bogged her down. And she hadn’t packed one in her trunk. Excitement skimmed in Phoebe’s belly as she thought of swimming in her shift. She could exercise, feel refreshed, and take her mind off the house party, her future, and especially, the marquess.

Making a quick decision, she left her room, snatched a towel from the linen closet, then crept down the grand staircase. She slipped out the back French doors and into the gardens. It was almost too easy. Glancing behind her to ensure she wasn’t being watched, she headed to the water. Ten minutes later, she reached the lake. Ducking behind a bush, she removed her shoes, gown, and stays and stood in her shift. She sighed as a slight breeze kissed her skin. As she stood by the lake’s edge, she dipped her toes in the cool water.

Perfect.

Her mother would be shocked. As far as her mother knew, Phoebe had always been the perfect daughter. She tried so hard to be and gave her mother no indication to suspect otherwise. Except she had moments of rebellion. Like this one. A restlessness boiled in her blood, an urge that needed to be released, like a simmering kettle.

She stepped into the water and wiggled her toes in the sand. No one would know. She’d be back before the women woke from their afternoon nap and she’d be properly dressed for the evening meal.

Double perfect.

The hem of her chemise grew wet. Taking a breath, she submerged.

…

Landon had to be hallucinating. It was the heat. It had to be. There was no other explanation for the water nymph frolicking in his lake. Yes, he had to be hallucinating. Because the nymph looked like Miss Dawson.

On second look, it was Phoebe.

The water was a respite he couldn’t resist. He’d spent summers here as a child, and afternoons swimming in the lake. The sun was descending, yet the heat of the day had barely waned.

She didn’t notice him slip into the lake. She rose from the water, flipping her golden hair across her back, before submerging again. She wasn’t wearing a bathing costume. In fact, whatever thin garment she was wearing, he could make out the shape of her breasts, even the pink areolas beneath the wet, sheer fabric. His jaw went slack. She was as close to naked as she could be. She submerged once more, and her bare legs rose from the water in a perfect handstand. She was playing, having fun, like a young girl who’d escaped the watchful eye of a governess.

He was riveted.

She seemed free and full of life, and she reminded him of all he’d lost. Of the days he’d had fun swimming in the lake by himself or with friends. Watching her made him forget—albeit briefly—the years he’d been away, escaping from the flaming hell of a sinking ship and then suffering a long, painful recovery in a foreign land.

Good God, when was the last time he’d felt his way? His return to England had offered no escape and offered no joy. Rather he was burdened by a neglected estate, a corrupt cousin, and a burning need for vengeance that haunted him day and night.

A splash caught his eye. She rolled on her back, spreading her arms to the sides, and lazily kicked her feet to stay afloat. An unfamiliar tug centered in his chest. They were entirely alone. Twilight was a magical time, and no one could see them from the house.

Powerless to stop himself, he swam to her.

She bobbed in the water as she finally noticed him. “You!”

Phoebe’s gaze met his, blue as the water on a clear, sunny day and just as captivating. Her wet hair clung to her scalp and her face was a perfect oval with a heart-shaped hairline. Her nose was small and pert. Droplets clung to her lashes, thick and dark. She was a beautiful woman. The tug in his chest increased.

“Yes, me,” he said.

“What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m swimming,” he said.

Her gaze roved over his naked chest then lowered to the water. “Are you naked?!” The lake wasn’t clear, and he knew she couldn’t see everything. He also wanted to point out her wet shift was sheer, and she was close to as naked as he was. He held his tongue.

“I didn’t expect company.”

A streak of wet hair clung to her cheek as she shook her head. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“It’s my lake, my lady. What are you doing here?” He asked her the same question she’d asked of him.

“It’s been so hot.” She lowered her body into the water to shield it from his view.

He almost protested the loss. “You are a complete surprise, Phoebe.”