Isabel thought she detected a hint of mischief in his invitation. “I’ll watch the stomping,” she replied. “They are lovely grapes, and I don’t wish to stomp them.”
Chetwynd shrugged his shoulders and grabbed her hand, pulling her along with him. The two other women were giggling again.
When they arrived at the spot where the pickers were now busy pressing grapes, Isabel was fascinated to see several large vats with women jumping up and down inside them. They were stomping with their skirts tucked up around their waists. The men poured in the grapes, and a few supported the women, holding onto an arm or wrist to keep them from slipping. An explosive shout startled Isabel. She saw that a tall woman had lost her footing and sunk into a mess of crushed grapes.
Chetwynd motioned that Isabel should try it, but she held back, shaking her head. Two of the women she worked with earlier were preparing to enter the vat and noticed Isabel’s refusal.
“Come along, my lady. The grapes feel good between your toes,” one of them teased.
Isabel made a face and held her ground. When the women continued their urging, Chetwynd whispered in her ear, “You don’t want to disappoint. It’s a tradition for the lady of the manor to take a turn.”
Isabel wasn’t sure she believed that, but she finally removed her shoes and hose, and lifted her skirt. When she stepped into the slippery mess, Chetwynd was quick to steady her with his hands at her waist.
In spite of the fact that the women beside her were stomping with great vigor, Isabel stepped daintily up and down. However, inspired by the others, she gradually increased her own energy level. The curious sensation of wet, slippery grapes underfoot made her laugh.
“You missed a clump to your right,” Chetwynd pointed out. “Now try over here.” At his urging, she moved around the vat.
When Isabel accidentally splashed Chetwynd, he muttered, “Be careful. You’re getting my clothes stained.”
Stomping even harder, she bit her lip to keep from laughing when his sleeve became covered with a dark red stain. Chetwynd caught on to her purpose and let her slip to her knees into the pulp. A great roar went up when she managed to pull him off-balance so he tilted and had to put his hands into the pulp to steady himself.
Chetwynd scrambled to regain his balance. After that, Isabel saw the glimmer in his eyes and tried to avoid him. Before she could climb out of the vat, he swept her up in his arms and carried her away to accompanying cheers and whistles from the crowd.
As Chetwynd ran toward the woods, Isabel suspected she knew where he was headed. She clung to his neck, hiding her face in his shirt when the trees speeding by made her dizzy. She prayed he would not lose his footing and drop her to the ground. When he stopped, she let go of her grip on him and felt herself being tossed into the air. She knew enough to hold her breath.
The deep water of the pond felt icy cold against her overheated skin, and she gasped for air when she came to the surface. Chetwynd jumped in behind her and started to paddle about furiously to banish the cold. It took a few minutes for their bodies to adjust to the water temperature.
“What a trick,” she complained, splashing water into his face.
“You said you wanted to see the swimming pond. Besides, I needed to wash the grape stains from my clothes. The grape stains you caused to be there.”
“Here, let me help you wash.” Isabel splashed him more vigorously, sparking a water fight.
Soon exhausted from the effort, they called a truce and began to paddle about slowly. Isabel finally had a chance to look around. The water was deep and clear, and the surrounding trees stood close together, providing privacy. “So this is the pond.”
Chetwynd nodded. “I found it this morning. What do you think?”
“It’s perfect,” she declared, moving close and throwing her arms around his neck. “Everything about Aquis is perfect.”
“Including me?”
“Especially you.”
Chetwynd threw his head back and laughed at her words. Not used to seeing him so relaxed and happy, Isabel was delighted by the sound.
“The minute I saw this pond, I knew you’d like it, Isabel. I couldn’t wait to show it to you. Will you do something for me?”
His incredible blue eyes, darkened with desire, searched her face with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. When he looked at her like that, she suspected she’d agree to anything. “Yes, of course,” she answered softly.
“I’m going to sit over there,” he said, pointing to the edge of the pond. “Will you swim around on your back the way you did the first time I saw you?”
Isabel bit her lip and nodded agreement.
“But before you do, let’s take off some of your clothing.” Standing in the water, he helped her remove her apron and gown, then tossed the sopping clothes onto the grass.
With only a shift covering her, Isabel swam away from him. Feeling a little self-conscious, she turned onto her back and slowly moved through the water. She knew he had left the pond as she could see his blond hair out of the corner of her eye. Staring up at the sky, she moved her arms to propel herself slowly through the water.
Although uneasy at first, the water relaxed her, and the idea that her movements had stayed in Chetwynd’s memory inspired her to be daring. Looking around first to be sure they were alone, she swung her hips in an erotic rhythm as she had done that afternoon so long ago. She twisted slowly through the water and moved her hands along her sides from her hips
