any breath of scandal touching his name. I choose not to marry-not yet, at least, and not unless I meet someone for whom I would willingly sacrifice my freedom. But I am five and twenty and I have all a woman's needs.'
'You have used me, then, sweetheart,' he asked her, 'as a . . . casual amour?'
'Don't be absurd,' she said, looking at him again with cold disdain. 'You can be remarkably tedious at times, Josh. Change places with me. I want to row.'
He grinned at her. 'We are not on a lake,' he said. 'Rowing on the sea takes far more strength and skill. Besides, you would have to get up from your place and maneuver around me in order to get here. I daresay the boat would rock abominably.'
'If you fall overboard,' she said, 'I will stop the boat and rescue you.'
One had to admire the woman. All the way across to the island earlier he had been aware of her terror though she had given no outward sign of it. Yet now she was willing to move around in the boat, somehow shift places with him, and then row them back to the harbor? He could almost smell fear in her arrogant, nonchalant stance.
'That is reassuring, at least,' he said, securing the oars and getting to his feet, holding to the sides as he did so. The boat rocked from side to side. 'I will do the same for you, Free, though I seem to recall that you can swim like a fish. I only just beat you in our race at Lindsey Hall.'
He thought she was going to change her mind when she did not immediately move, but as he approached her she stood up-straight, without clinging to the sides. She held herself upright and balanced as the boat swayed and as he squeezed past her and sat down where she had been sitting. He watched appreciatively as she moved along the boat, keeping perfect balance, before turning and sitting and taking the oars in her hands. Her chin was up, as he had expected, and she was viewing the world along the length of her nose.
She had accused him of wearing a mask, of hiding either his real self or nothing at all behind it. She was no different. Behind the cool, haughty, bold front she displayed to the world was a woman who had been hurt, a woman who was lonely-yes, Prue had been quite right about that-a woman who was perhaps afraid to love again.
He might have guessed that she would row the boat like an expert. She did not expend energy by digging the oars deep and trying to displace the whole ocean with every stroke. They were soon moving along at a steady clip.
So she had not changed her mind about marrying, had she? It was a shame really, as he was beginning to change his mind about marrying her. Actually, the thought of saying good-bye to her-probably quite soon now-was one his mind shied away from. His life was going to seem very empty indeed without Freyja in it. And now to top everything off he was going to have the memories of this afternoon to live with.
For all her boldness and passion, she was really still a sexual innocent. She probably did not recognize the difference between having sex and making love. They had been making love this afternoon-or at least, he had been even though he had been careful not to utter one word of love.
She had wanted him only for the experience, for the satisfying of her feminine sexual hunger.
It was a humbling thought.
He chuckled.
'I should be wielding a whip in my right hand,' he said, laying his arms along the sides of the boat. 'This scene would look far more impressive from the harbor if I were.'
There were indeed several villagers standing still on the front road or down on the sand among the boats, all watching in curiosity as the Marquess of Hallmere's betrothed rowed him to shore.
Joshua jumped out when they were in shallow water, risking his valet's wrath when he saw his Hessian boots. He dragged the boat up onto dry sand and lifted Freyja out even as Ben Turner came running to haul the boat higher. Someone up on the road whistled shrilly, and there was a burst of good-natured laughter.
'Ah, Ben,' Joshua said, 'just the man I want to talk to.'
Ben looked warily at him and reached into the boat to take out the blankets.
'I understand,' Joshua said, 'that your mother has been kind to Lady Prudence. She is at your cottage door, I see. Shall we go up?'
He took Freyja by the elbow and indicated one of the cottages on the front road above the harbor. Mrs. Turner was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her bosom. She watched them approach before bobbing a curtsy. Ben trailed along behind.
'If he was making you row that boat, my lady,' she said, chuckling, 'I would give him his marching orders if I was you. Or lay down the law as it is going to be for the rest of your life.'
'But she insisted,' Joshua protested. 'How was a gentleman to say no?'
Freyja, he realized, found this all very strange-this way he had of fraternizing with ordinary folk and their way of being at ease with him. But he had been one of them just five years ago. She stood silently beside him.
'I have heard of all your kindnesses to Lady Prudence,' he said to Mrs. Turner.
He had had a lengthy talk with Miss Palmer during the morning while Prue was out walking with Eve and the children. Prue was very much confined to the nursery at the house. Miss Palmer took her out as much as she could. More often than not they walked into the village or took the gig if it was available. Prue had developed a deep attachment to the Turners, who treated her with warm affection. Indeed, Mrs. Turner often suggested that Miss Palmer leave her there for an hour or two and have some time to herself-she often called upon Miss Jewell, she had explained.
Mrs. Turner looked instantly wary.
'She is a sweet child,' she said, 'and not an imbecile, even though her mother seems to believe she is, begging your pardon, my lord. I know she is Lady Prudence, and therefore I ought not to encourage her to set foot over my doorstep, but someone has to love her, and Miss Palmer is not always enough.'
'I am not here to scold you,' Joshua said, clasping his hands behind his back.
'I would think not,' she said. 'She loves this house. She has her own apron behind the door, and the first thing
