Page 103 of A Perilous Passion

No, a pugilist wouldn’t have retained such dark good looks. There were no dents or lumps in the long, aristocratic nose, no scars to mar the line of the close-shaven square chin. The man was older than her beloved Justin and didn’t look particularly mad, or stupid.

He must know she wasn’t about to put an end to herself. So, what, then, was his real motive for toppling her over?

He gazed intently into her face. “You’re wet and cold. Come with me back to the inn. I’ll have them do a hot brick for you and make up a caudle. Then I’ll return you to your family. Or take you to see the local parson. Whoever you feel might be able to help. I’ll carry you if you don’t feel up to the walk.”

Somewhat lost in the face of such determined decision making, she summoned anger to her defense. “I can walk perfectly well by myself,” she stated, pushing away the proffered arm. “I don’t want your coat. I’d rather throw it in the sea and trample upon it! And I hate caudles. Tell me, do you make a habit of pushing young ladies over?”

His eyes hardened. “Of course not. But I couldn’t let you do such a terrible thing.”

“Is it so awful to walk into the sea?”

“What you were about to do is against the laws of God and Nature. As I’m sure you’re aware.”

He genuinely thought she’d been about to drown herself. “Well, really!” she said on a gasp. “Of all the ridiculous notions!”

His broad shoulders sank. “You looked so melancholy. I thought—”

“You were watching me?” She wasn’t sure she cared for that.

The shoulders stiffened again, and he spread his hands in a gesture of self-defense. She noticed scratches on them, as though made by bramble thorns.

Who was this man? And why was he spying on her?

As she continued to gaze at him, nonplussed, the breeze flapped at her gown, driving the wet muslin against her legs. She resisted the urge to shiver, for fear of being threatened with a caudle again, and tilted her chin defiantly.

His deep voice had an edge to it as he said, “I see that I may have made a mistake. Only, you looked quite…bereft. Then you just turned and walked into the water. Anyone would have thought the same.”

“If I have good reason to look melancholy, that’s my own business.” Wasn’t the fact that Justin was exiled to Scotland a good enough reason? Wasn’t the fact that she’d been confined to the house for the entire spring, more than enough to make her look miserable?

“A lady doesn’t normally stroll along the beach unchaperoned,” the stranger informed her, “or ruin her shoes with sea water.” He coughed and looked self-conscious. “When things happen that are out of the ordinary, I feel the need to investigate.”

She had been chaperoned. But Aunt Flora was so intent on listening to the quack doctor on the green that Charlotte had been able to escape.

“I—” she began, then paused. Why try to justify herself? She should turn around and stalk off, not waste time standing here disputing with the fellow.

“You behaved like a lunatic,” she said. “Shall I send for the constable and have you returned to your asylum?”

He gave her a crushing look. Then, acknowledging the barb, he smiled. And for no reason she could fathom, she blushed.

“If I were mad, I would hardly be likely to own it,” he said.

Probably true. She really should stop arguing with him, brush down her sandy skirts, and return to Aunt Flora before she was missed. “You can apologize to me and be on your way,” she suggested.

There was a hiss of breath. “I should prefer you not to talk to me as if I were a child, when I quite clearly am not.”

He certainly wasn’t. As he spoke, his powerfully male body became taller, more formidable—which made her feel a bit like a feisty sheep standing up to a wolf.

“Look,” he said, grasping her elbow, “why don’t you just tell me why you walked into the sea, and then we can both go home.”

She tried to shake him off. “You’re impertinent, sir, and no gentleman. If I tell you, will you stop pestering me?”

He nodded, watching her with disturbing concentration.

“Very well. I noticed something strange in the water and was wading in to see what it was. Satisfied? You can take your hand off me now.”

The fingers tightened. “What did you see? Point it out.”

Why was he so interested in such an unimportant thing? Definitely no gentleman, and most certainly addle pated. What a sad waste of a handsome face and striking physique.