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Lord Dunsbourne chuckled, and her gaze flew from his dripping footwear to his laughter-filled eyes.

“You are teasing me again,” she accused.

“I confess, as a boy, I waded into this river more times than I can count, but never once has a minnow entered my boots.”

“This might be the first time,” Phoebe warned.

“It may, indeed.” He gestured to the grass. “Are you willing to stay while I take off my boots and check for any unwelcome creatures?”

Phoebe had no desire whatsoever to witness anything other than water coming from Lord Dunsbourne’s boots. But he had rescued her bonnet. She could not very well refuse. Realizing that he would only sit after she was seated, she lowered herself to the ground and covered her ankles as best she could.

He dropped down beside her, yanked off a boot, and held it upside down. A small stream of water trickled out, but thankfully, there were no minnows to be seen.

“Why did you regularly wade into the river as a child?” she asked.

“To fish,” he said. “To my childish way of thinking, if I was unable to catch anything from the riverbank, all the trout must be congregated in the middle of the river. And if they refused to come to me, I went to them.”

Phoebe could easily picture the scene: a small, dark-haired boy with a net in hand, up to his waist in water. The baron’s resolve to see a plan through had obviously manifested itself at an early age.

“And were your efforts successful? Did one determined young fisherman outwit a river full of wily trout?”

“Ah,” he said. “I see you have ascertained one of my strengths and weaknesses already.”

“You consider your determination to be a weakness as well as a strength?”

“I believe that how one labels the trait depends upon which side of it one falls. Cook was the person who suffered the most because of my youthful persistence at the river. One summer, she became so tired of preparing trout for dinner, she begged my governess to hide my fishing pole and net until at least five days had passed without fish on the menu.”

Phoebe laughed, and with a grin, he replaced his first boot and tugged off the second. He emptied the second boot of water and glanced inside.

“No minnows,” he said. “They must have ascertained that my sole reason for entering the river is to capture trout and bonnets.”

“How remarkable. I would not have thought that so tiny a fish would exhibit such intelligence.”

“Well, I am rather glad they opted to stay away.” The twitch of his lips belied his serious tone. “Wet feet without the addition of minnows are definitely my preference.”

Lord Dunsbourne was accepting his unpleasant state of dress very well, but it was hard to ignore her feeling of culpability. “Would it not be better to go back to the house to change?”

“I came this way to check on the new tumps,” he said. “But truth be told, I was more than ready to escape the blistering heat of the cart shed. My boots and clothing will dry quickly enough.” He put his second boot back on. “Indeed, if the temperature in the cart shed does not drop in the next hour or so, I may suggest that Oliver come douse his feet.”

“And will you require my bonnet for a second rescue?”

He chuckled. “I daresay Oliver can manage without it.” The humor in his expression disappeared. “But you have not told me why you were at the river without your gloves and hat.”

“I, too, was feeling the heat,” she admitted. “I was simply enjoying the water for a moment.”

He reached for her hat. Puzzled, she relinquished it only to have him set it gently on her head. His fingers brushed her neck as he drew the wet ribbons down below her chin. Something in his eyes changed, and the distance between them seemed to shrink.

“It would not do for you to be without your bonnet for long,” he said. “The sun can cause havoc on skin as fair as yours.”

Phoebe held completely still. No matter what exposure to the sun might do to her, Lord Dunsbourne’s touch was causing untold mayhem.

“I . . . I will keep it on for the rest of the day.”

“That would be best.” His eyes did not leave hers, but his fingers moved across her cheek, his touch so light it was barely more than a whisper. “As tiresome as they may be, your hat and gloves are intended to safeguard you.” His voice quieted. “And your protection is of the utmost importance.”

Phoebe’s lips parted and she took an unsteady breath. When had the simple act of breathing become so difficult?

In the river, a loud plop interrupted the smooth flow of water. She flinched, and Lord Dunsbourne instantly pulled back.