me now. I can manage on my own.”
“You may find it hard to swim in long skirts and petticoats.”
“I can manage,” Lily repeated.
He still seemed reluctant to release her, so she pushed away from him. He was right, Lily quickly learned. She could float somewhat, but she wasn’t very buoyant. Her skirts felt like a ship’s anchor, pulling her down. And when she tried to kick her legs to swim, she discovered they were tangled in swaths of muslin.
It was a struggle, but she made it over to the rowboat several yards away. Reaching up, she grasped the edge and clung.
She waited a short while to regain her strength before attempting to climb in, but then found it impossible; the weight of her sodden gown dragged her down, and every time she attempted to haul herself up, she tilted the rowboat into the water.
“Do you need my help yet, sweeting?” Heath asked mildly when she muttered an oath of exasperation.
Pushing a strand of dripping hair from her eyes, Lily glanced back at him. He was enjoying her dilemma, she could tell. And he wanted her to admit defeat. But she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of asking him for help.
By now a group of people had gathered on shore and were calling to her in alarm, demanding to know if she was all right.
“Yes, don’t worry,” Lily called back. “I am coming.”
Releasing her hold on the little boat, she struck out for the nearest shore to her left, swimming slowly because of her entangling skirts.
Judging by his tone, Heath didn’t seem to approve of her decision. “Just what do you think you are doing, Lily?”
She continued making small strokes, despite the frustration of only inching along. “I am saving myself. I don’t want you to earn any points for rescuing me. You only need three more to win as it is.”
“What if I relinquish any claim to points this time? Will you return to the boat and let me help you?”
“Thank you, your lordship, but I find the exercise stimulating.”
“Lily…” he said, amusement warring with exasperation.
When she wouldn’t give up, Heath caught up to her and swam alongside her, matching his strokes to her much shorter ones. “Did anyone ever tell you how stubborn you are, Miss Loring?”
“Yes, quite frequently. You have yourself. But I warned you of that, remember?”
Several of the people on land realized what she was doing and started hurrying around the lake to meet her. Benjamin was in the lead, followed swiftly by three footmen. And Winifred panted after them, her larger bulk preventing her from maintaining the same speed.
Lily’s arms and legs were growing tired, but thankfully she shortly reached shallower water where her feet could touch bottom. Standing upright, however, was an exercise in futility. She had lost both her slippers, and her stockinged feet had difficulty finding purchase in the sandy mud. And even when she eventually managed to find her footing, climbing out of the lake was like dragging chains behind her.
Once, she almost fell, and when the water was waist-deep, she stepped on a sharp piece of gravel that cut into her toes. When she let out an exclamation of pain, Heath exhaled in disgust.
“Enough is enough,” he stated, closing the distance between.
Without waiting for her permission, he scooped Lily up in his arms to carry her the rest of the way.
She gave a yelp of protest but was forced to cling to his neck as he plowed through the water, up the sloping bank to the shore’s edge.
“Put me down!” she insisted when the water was knee level.
“Gladly,” he replied. “You weigh as much as a beached whale.”
No sooner had he spoken than he stumbled and went down on one knee. Although he easily kept hold of her while she clutched his neck more tightly, they voiced the same oath at the exact same instant.
The humor of it struck Lily and Heath at the same moment. Laughter echoed from them both as they met each other’s eyes.
When eventually he stood up, holding her safely, their laughter faded to a shared breathless smile.
“It’s damned hard playing the hero with you, sweetheart.”
Lily’s mouth curved with mirth. “Some hero you are. If you hadn’t loosened my bonnet, we would not be in this fix.”
By the time they reached dry land, the small group of spectators had joined them.
Winifred was out of breath, but she spoke first. “How wonderful of you, my lord. You saved her life.”
“You give me far too much credit, my lady,” he answered, his tone dry.
“Yes,” Lily added wryly. “I believe I had something to do with my deliverance.”
He grinned at her while Winifred shook her head. “But it was still quite romantic,” she insisted.
Ignoring her friend’s gushing, Lily instead addressed Heath. “Pray put me down now, my lord. You have been chivalrous enough for one day.”
When he obliged, setting her on her stockinged feet, Lily winced at the feel of the rough ground against her tender soles.
Seeing her pain, Winifred frowned. “Lily, you cannot walk back to the house with no shoes.”
“I don’t plan to return to your house, Winifred. I shall go home to Danvers Hall instead, so I may change out of this sopping gown.”
A light of speculation suddenly entered her ladyship’s eyes. “Yes, of course you must change at home. I don’t have any gowns that would fit you. And you must accompany her, Lord Claybourne. You need dry clothing, and Lord Danvers should have ample choices in his wardrobe.”
Lily wanted to argue, yet they were both dripping wet, and she was beginning to grow chilled.
In any event, Heath took the decision from her. “My carriage will take us to the Hall, Lady Freemantle. We shall go directly to the stables so we needn’t importune your guests.”
Although nodding happily, Winifred cast a measuring glance at Lily’s bedraggled form. “I suppose I should send a footman to fetch some blankets for you…”
“There are carriage rugs in my coach,” Heath assured her. “Please accept our apologies for leaving so precipitously, my lady.”
With a brief bow to their hostess, he picked Lily up again without regard to her sharp inhalation and strode toward the stableyard.
Lily knew protesting would be futile, yet she scolded him all the same once they were out of earshot. “You are taking shameless advantage of Winifred’s scheming.”
“Perhaps, but conventional methods of wooing won’t work on you, so I must act when I have the chance.”
The sound she made was between a scoff and an amused
“No, it is hardly romantic. You look like a drowned rat.”
Lily’s eyes widened in mock insult. “My, my. First a whale, now a rat. How delightfully complimentary you are.”
He grinned at her. “You aren’t the kind of female to cherish compliments-I learned that within my first moments of meeting you.”
Even though she knew better than to encourage him, Lily found herself smiling back. She couldn’t deny the pleasure, either, of being held in Heath’s strong arms, pressed against his warm, powerful body. The sun had disappeared behind the clouds, and her wet garments were raising goose bumps all over her skin.
But she tore her gaze away and stared at a point over his shoulder as his long strides ate up the distance.
When they reached the stableyard, he carried her directly to his coach. His servants sprang to do his bidding, opening the door for him so he could set Lily inside.
Struggling to arrange her dripping skirts, she settled on the leather seat and felt herself shiver as the clammy, cold fabric molded to her limbs and back.
After giving orders to his coachman, Heath climbed in to sit beside her, carrying a heavy woolen carriage blanket. She was grateful when he arranged the blanket over her lap and shoulders. But when he put his arm
