Page 36 of Just a Little Daring

Ah, yes, the weather. When in doubt, an Englishman could always rely on the weather as a safe topic of conversation.

Vivien giggled.

“Well, you try,” he grumbled. “I am no good at this. I ought not have asked you to—”

He broke off, his gaze fixed on four figures splashing about in the sea like lunatics. August narrowed his eyes. They had walked some way from the fashionable end of town and there was no one else on the beach but them… —and the men in the sea. The tide was a fair distance out, leaving a good stretch of shoreline, but not so far that he didn’t recognise the fellow Sylvester had aptly named an ignorant prick.

“Oh,” Vivien said, her grip on his arm tightening a little. “Look.”

She pointed to a neatly folded collection of clothing that included a revolting puce waistcoat.

August grinned at her.

“We ought not,” she said, though excitement glimmered in her indigo eyes like starlight upon the sea.

“We really ought,” August replied, the joyous sensation that always assailed him when he’d had a marvellously wicked idea rising like a tide.

Vivien looked thoughtful. “Well, yes. I mean, really, leaving that vile waistcoat out in the open like that, it’s asking for trouble. And sporting about like little boys in the altogether! It’s outrageous really. They must intend to cause a stir.”

“They ought to have used the bathing machines rather than offend decent people. I mean, puce? It’s enough to provoke anyone,” August said earnestly.

Without another word, the two of them hurried to the pile of clothes, snatched them up, and ran from the beach, leaving the others to walk on without noticing their departure.

“Oh! Oh, that was dreadful of us, and… Oh, August. What a lark!” Vivien said, laughing so hard her eyes watered. “But ought we leave them something to cover themselves? Some poor maiden aunt will have a hysterical fit if she sees four naked men walking through the town.”

“They’re wearing their smallclothes. Those aren’t in the pile,” he said with a shrug.

“Even so. Perhaps a towel?”

August thought Vivien was far too kind-hearted. “I have a better idea,” he said, eyeing a pawn shop down a corner street.

Not very much later, they found their way back to Sylvester, Evie, and Aisling, who were waiting in the fashionable part of town.

“Where did you two get to?” Aisling asked them.

“Tsk, Lady Aisling, surely you know better than to ask such a question?” Sy said, earning himself a stern glare from August.

“If you come this way, you’ll see soon enough,” August said, gesturing for them to follow him.

He treated everyone to dishes of fruit ice and they sat facing the seafront, enjoying the sunshine and a light breeze that made the ladies’ frills and ribbons flutter enticingly.

“What, exactly, are we waiting for?” Sy asked, once they had all finished their ices.

“This,” August said gleefully, his expression one of delight.

Sy turned in the direction he was staring and narrowed his eyes. “Is… is that the prick—”

“Yes,” August said, grinning.

“He’s wearing petticoats!”

“Oh, dear.” Vivien put a hand to her mouth to smother a burst of laughter.

The four men, all wearing matching expressions of fury and humiliation, were hurrying up the street, each with a voluminous petticoat pulled up under their armpits. The lace hem frothed around their knees as they walked, white, hairy legs on display below.

“Goodness,” Evie said, in tones of awed astonishment.

As the men drew closer, the one that had so insulted Vivien caught sight of August, who was far too delighted by the scene to rearrange his face.