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"Really? It looks quite solid to me."
"But look, Lady Denmore, how dark it is in the center?" Jones insisted.
"Oh, surely only the depth of the water makes it so. Don't you think, Mr. Cantry?"
"I do."
Emma dimpled up at the blond man, tying him to her with a smile. "What do you say we show these men their mistake? A race perhaps?"
"A race?"
She grinned. The last gentleman—older than the others, if she wasn't mistaken—smothered a laugh behind a cough, his eyes sparkling at her, aware of her game. Emma nodded in recognition.
"My brother," Cantry mumbled, "Viscount Lancaster."
"Viscount. An honor."
"My pleasure, madam, I assure you." And it was, she could see by the way his gaze fell to her mouth. Men were such easy creatures.
"Well, let us teach this lord a lesson in assurance, shall we, Mr. Cantry?"
"Indeed," the younger brother growled.
"And a wager to make things interesting? The last to touch the other side of the pond forfeits . .. h
mm. Shall we say fifty pounds?"
"Ah . . . Lady Denmore, surely you don't mean I should race against you"? A lady?"
"Well, your pride is safe, sir, as I issued the challenge. Unless, of course, you fear I'll best you."
Cantry couldn't stifle a laugh at the idea.
"And you'd be doing a good deed by entertaining me."
"True." He was warming to the race. She watched his smile spread to wickedness. "Of course, I couldn't accept your money. But if you were to offer a token instead . . ."
"Ah. A kiss in lieu of fifty pounds?" She cast her eyes down for a moment, trying to look demure. "A kiss. All right. You have a bet, Mr. Cantry. A kiss if you win. Fifty pounds if I do."
Oh, the young man was pleased with his chances, though his brother, clearly the smarter of the two, stood shaking his head at Gantry's gullibility. Jones looked simply dismayed.
"It isn't safe," he protested.
"True," Viscount Lancaster agreed, smile fading.
"Nonsense, gentlemen. I am a country lass, after all, and well acquainted with such dangers. This pond is no more than four feet deep in the middle. Fear not." She picked her way down the sloping bank before they could protest further, and looked up in surprise when a strong hand clasped her elbow. "Thank you, Lord Lancaster. Would you take my cloak?"
"Certainly." He leaned close to untie the knot, speaking softly near her ear. "Perhaps this is not such a grand idea. I hear you enjoy a good wager, but when the ice breaks . . ."
"Pah." Emma let him sweep the cloak from her shoulders and tried not to shiver in the cold. She was saved from his concern by the appearance of his brother, flush-faced and already gloating.
"Lady Denmore, shall I give you a handicap? Say ten feet?"
"Hardly, Mr. Cantry."
Jones was convinced to start the race and they were off. Emma's half boots slid well across the ice, but Gantry's stride gave him the immediate advantage. The large group near the house began booing him, drawing a laugh from Emma despite her breathless pursuit.
Cantry had crossed nearly a third of the pond before he began to slow. Even fifteen feet behind him, Emma could hear the ominous groan of the ice. She slid faster.
