camp chairs, heaps of pillows placed here and there, blankets tented over poles to keep the wind away. A small freestanding stove was already alight, a tin bucket of coals next to it. Boxes and baskets of provisions anchored one corner of the rug and a flickering lantern was sunk into the sand. Bay-or someone-had thought of everything.
“This is lovely!”
“Not as lovely as you. Here, sit down.” He indicated a flat rock.
Mystified, Charlotte did as she was told. Bay dropped to his knees and Charlotte’s heart lurched. Surely he wasn’t going to propose.
Assuredly, he wasn’t. He began to unlace her boots with concentration.
“I can do that.” She managed to sound quite normal after her scare. But it wasn’t a scare, it was a dream. And a foolish one at that.
“Don’t spoil my fun.” She watched as his fingers slowly worked at the knot she’d so hastily tied so she could be ready for their picnic on time.
“Blast. You don’t mind if I cut this, do you?”
“I certainly do! These are my only boots.” Charlotte tried to tug her foot away, but Bay held on to her ankle.
“I’ll buy you new ones. Or at the very least, new laces.” He took a pocketknife out and sliced the stubborn knot. Once her foot was free, he tickled the bottom of her stocking.
She tapped him lightly on the head. “Oh, no. No tickling. You promised.”
“So I did. I’ll have to find another diversion.” His hand smoothed up her calf to her garter. Sight unseen, he flicked it with a finger and it unraveled. He unrolled both stockings, paying far too much attention to her exposed flesh as he did so. Charlotte was reminded of raindrops slowly sliding down a window. Each fingertip left its trace.
He looked up at her, his smug grin revealing that he knew perfectly well the effect he was having on her. “There! Doesn’t the sand feel good between your toes?”
Charlotte scrunched her feet into the sun-warmed sand. She hadn’t gone barefoot on the beach since she was a child chasing after Deb. “It does. But don’t ask me to remove your boots so you can say the same. I can’t do it.”
“Not a problem.” He hopped up to rummage around in a basket and pulled out a bootjack. “Frazier is a nonpareil. I should give him a raise. Scoot over.”
Charlotte made room for him on the rock. “You should. I think he’s very smitten with Kitty. He should marry her.”
“Marry!” Bay wrenched a boot off and tossed it to the rug. “He’s that far gone, is he? What do you think of the girl?”
“She’s very quiet. A hard worker. I think she’d be forever grateful to him.”
Bay frowned. “Doesn’t sound like a grand love affair to me.”
“Girls like Kitty and Mary can’t afford grand love affairs.”
“So grizzled old Frazier is a Lothario, is he? I’ll have to tell him I approve. There’s plenty of work for them both in London.”
Charlotte’s breath caught. “So you won’t be staying here at Bayard Court?”
Bay unwound his neckcloth. “I’ve urgent business to tend to once our month is up.”
“Oh.” Charlotte had envisioned Bay as lord of his manor, busy sketching and painting away. She supposed one of his urgent tasks was to secure another mistress for Jane Street. She was half tempted to tell him she could serve in that role as well as any other, but then she remembered the possibility of a baby. No man wanted a pregnant mistress. She didn’t want Bay’s pity or his charity. The sum he’d settled on her already was more than enough.
But soon she didn’t have the wit to think or say anything. He was peeling back her gown, unlacing her corset, slipping her chemise down to suckle her breasts. The copper strands in his hair glinted in the waning sunlight, his long fingers were dark against the white of her skin. She closed her eyes to his beauty as he worked his lips around one nipple, then the other. Her limbs loosened as his warm, wet tongue unleashed its magic.
He stopped abruptly, his dark eyes unreadable. “W-what’s wrong?” she asked.
“Not a thing. It occurs to me if we are to go swimming, we should do so now before the sun drops and the wind picks up. We’ll continue this in the water.”
Charlotte shivered in anticipation. They both shed their clothes and left them folded on the rock. Judging from Bay’s jutting erection, he had every intention of taking her quickly. She couldn’t imagine how this was to be accomplished, but was perfectly happy to be an experiment. Before she knew it, he had scooped her up and tossed her into the waves.
“It’s freezing!” she shrieked. She had forgotten just how cold it was so early in the season.
“Only at first. Better to get it out of the way than to walk in inch by inch. You’ll be warm in no time. Here, come to me.” His arms encircled her as he brought her to his chest. His brave words were false-even
“New pins, new boots,” he said, warding off her criticism. “New everything. Kiss me, Charlie.”
As if she could refuse. They were lost in each other for a spell, hands and mouths slippery and busy, the taste of salty skin and water sweet as wine. He finally lifted her up, fitting her to him. She slid onto his cock effortlessly, and then they drifted, caressed by the waves. The sensation of being anchored to him, yet absolutely free, was a novelty. Swirling at first in lazy circles, his hands clamped around her hips, she closed her eyes again and let bliss overtake her. His movements, so gentle yet inexorable, brought them both to climax.
She held fast, feeling his erratic pulse on her check. She would never forget this day.
“Mermaid,” he whispered, toying with her hair. It floated around her like black satin ribbons. Charlotte wondered if the inestimable Frazier had packed a hairbrush, for she was likely to look more like Medusa than a mermaid when her hair dried.
She smiled up at him. “Shall I sing a song and bewitch you?”
“Unnecessary. You already have. I’ve crashed up against the rocks, shattered. Splintered. There’s no hope. Take me to your kingdom at the bottom of the sea.”
“Bah.” Charlotte pushed away from him, treading water. “What good are you to me if you drown?”
“I? Drown?” Bay thrashed through the sea, his arms wind-milling.
Charlotte was not about to be left behind. She kicked off and made a creditable attempt to catch up, ducking under the swells. Bay allowed her to reach him, and together, hand in hand, they floated on their backs, watching the sky turn turquoise and lavender, the clouds tinged silver-pink.
“It’s beautiful here,” Charlotte murmured.
“Mermaids and shipwrecked sailors cannot live on beauty alone. I’m starved.”
“I wonder what mermaids eat. Certainly not fish. That doesn’t seem right.”
“Yes, rather like a cannibal eating his own feet. Speaking of which-” He flipped over, grabbed her waist, and stood her upright. To her surprise, she felt sand and rocks
“This is so shallow!”
“A perfect spot to teach children to swim. You can go out quite a ways without fear. I practically lived at this cove when I was a boy. Camped out nearly every summer night with my friend Jamie. We slept rough, hoping to be carried off on a smugglers’ adventure. It was,” he said, a rueful expression on his face, “excellent training for the army. No tents or pillows or rugs for me then.”
“Thank goodness you weren’t kidnapped! Your grandmother would have been frantic!”
Bay laughed. “You don’t know the half of it. She set up a camp bed at the end of the tunnel just in case. I never found out until the butler told me years later. Either she or he or another poor servant kept vigil in the cave to watch over us.”
“Oh, she must have loved you so.”
“Yes. Spoiled me rotten, as you can see. Come on, I’ll show you her hiding place.”
They splashed to the shore. Once out of the water, Charlotte shook with cold. Bay opened a battered trunk and pulled out a thick towel and led her to stand before the little stove. He scrubbed her down thoroughly, taking more time than was absolutely necessary with every nook and cranny. Charlotte submitted, wondering how she would be able to live without his touch. Then he wrapped her in a dark blue cashmere robe that felt like a warm cloud against
