When Harry Met Molly

The rat.

Harry glanced back at Molly and suppressed a grin. She wore a large straw bonnet and swung a tin pail and looked quite happy, trudging up the trail—and no wonder. The men had agreed to add—oh, all right, had been coerced into adding—a hundred-pound purse to the winnings allotted the Most Delectable Companion.

She was basking in her triumph and perhaps enjoying the splendid weather until she saw him turn to look at her.

And her scowl returned.

Molly definitely didn’t want to go to the lake. Perhaps because he’d told her he swam in it naked on a regular basis and that all his guests were welcome to do the same.

She was doing her best to protect her virtue, which he found…endearing, considering she was already hopelessly compromised. Not that anyone else would ever find out. He’d get her back home safely before her father came home.

“Enjoying the views?” he asked her pleasantly.

“No,” she replied in that airy way she had when she was up to something. “I told you on the first day, I might have a crumbling spine. I should return to the house immediately. Soon I shall collapse, and you will have to carry me back.”

“Molly, exactly what is a crumbling spine?”

She pushed a branch out of her face. “Mrs. Turnbull has it. You know, the lady at church who walks with a cane.”

“You don’t walk with a cane.”

“That’s because I avoid hills at all costs.”

“Oh, dear,” he said. “Good thing this hill is not at all steep. It’s more of a bump, really, than a hill.”

“You’re very lucky it is, Harry. I dread thinking what would happen if it were a tall hill. Swimming is also strictly forbidden for someone in my condition.”

“Really? Could your crumbling spine dissolve in water?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Molly said. “I might land in a hole and be thrown off balance. That’s all.”

Harry bit his lip. “It’s a very flat lake bottom.”

“One can’t take such chances.”

“I’m certainly glad sack races are permitted with your condition.”

The rustling of leaves behind him stopped.

He turned, saw her vexed look, and couldn’t help laughing out loud. “Molly! I’m not going to swim naked! And I won’t make you, either. Is that what you’re worried about?”

Her brow smoothed out. “Are you sure, Harry?”

“Yes, you silly minx.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her up next to him. They stood nose to chin, she looking up at him with an elfin grin. “I would never make you get naked when you don’t want to.”

He didn’t mean for it to come out that way, all warm and gruff, but her nearness was affecting him, especially as they were surrounded by beautiful, leafy green trees and bushes and the occasional wildflower and a breeze that was softly blowing her skirt.

And privacy. Lots of privacy.

She didn’t say anything back. Her eyes were focused on his, and hers were warm and oh so brown.

The cat had gotten his tongue, as well. It would be so easy, he thought, to lean down and—

No. He really must cease and desist that nonsense. No one was here to see them getting affectionate with each other, so what good would it do for his cause?

Which was to remain a bachelor.

And then Fate, thankfully, intervened. Somehow Molly’s hair got caught in a twig.

“Oops,” she said, and tried to move. But couldn’t.

Harry gently removed the offending strands. “There.” He grinned. “Might as well let down the rest. It’s a hopeless mess.”

She did as she was asked, pocketing her pins. Her hair fell around her in glorious toffee brown splendor, and she shook it out. “Oh, that feels good,” she said with a sigh.

He was glad he was no longer standing close by. Because he was tempted to grab her and kiss her senseless.

There was a bounce in her step now, which he was heartened to see. “I’m so glad you Impossible Bachelors avoided a mistress mutiny, aren’t you?” she said, skipping ahead with her pail.

Her curvaceous backside was temptingly near. “Yes,” he said. “Amazing how it came out of nowhere, isn’t it? Good thing it blew over. We couldn’t have any of the ladies called up before Prinny’s court for rebellion.”

“Certainly not. You men would have never lived it down. I’m so glad we staved off almost certain embarrassment for all parties concerned, aren’t you?”

“Indeed.” He loaded the word with irony, which she conveniently ignored.

“Are there really lots of blackberries, Harry?”

“Yes,” he said, enjoying the sight of her pixie grin. “And we’ll pick them all.”

“I can’t wait!” she cried, and tumbled down the trail in front of him.

Crumbling spine, indeed.

Chapter 19

Molly swung her pail, pleased at its weight. They’d picked loads of blackberries and even some wild currants, enough to make four or five tarts! And she didn’t know what she’d been so nervous about. It was a perfectly innocent lake, resting placidly in the sun. How could she have ever ascribed sinister motives to it? It was as pristine and clear as beautiful lakes come!

She’d let her nieces swim in this lake if they wanted to. Or her sister. Or even her best horse.

“See that?” Harry said, pointing at a large flat outcrop of rock bordering the western side. “That’s where I jump in.”

Naked? She wondered what he’d look like. She was insanely curious and losing her breath just thinking about it.

But all she said was, “It’s very high.”

“It’s deep over there,” he said, coming up behind her.

Indeed, that side of the lake looked darker, more brooding. As if it had secrets. She would steer clear of that side.

She felt Harry’s warmth right behind her and had an odd temptation to lean back against him. She felt like doing that instead of talking.

In fact, she couldn’t think of anything to say back to him. She’d developed this problem overnight, it seemed. He was suddenly a person she felt…nervous around. In a pleasantly unsettling way. If she didn’t know herself better, she’d think she was developing a tendre for him.

But she did know herself better. And even if she were starting to feel all melty inside when he came near, she would do well to remember that he wanted to remain a bachelor.

She should also remind herself that were he to lose the contest completely, he would be forced to marry Anne Riordan. Molly wouldn’t go to their wedding. She’d invent something if she had to. Something other than a crumbling spine because then Harry would tell everyone she’d made that up.

“Has Roderick ever brought Penelope up here? I wonder,” Molly finally said.

“I don’t think they’ve visited here,” said Harry. “He and Penelope prefer the southern properties.”

The wind blew across the lake, bringing with it a green scent mingled with the scent of flowers.

“I think this is the nicest one of all,” said Molly.

“You haven’t seen my family’s other properties.”

“I don’t care,” she said. “I like this one best.”