“Mrs. Gleeson said if you go at sunrise you can see fairies dancing nude between the stones.”

Beside her, Alex chuckled.

“Fairies? You are a little too old to believe in them.”

“I knew you would say that,” Mary-Anne said triumphantly. “That is why I did not ask you.” She gave Lucinda’s arm a squeeze. “I am sorry, though.”

Lucinda did not have the energy to scold her. She vaguely watched the scenery pass by and then straightened when she realized where they were going. “This is the road to Eastwick Hall.”

Alex nodded. “It is closer than your lodgings. We can get you warm and Mary-Anne can fetch you a change of clothes.”

“But...but it’s not proper.”

He shook his head. “You are a woman in distress—I do not think anyone can complain about me offering my aid. In fact, Mrs. Jones would have my head if I did not.”

“I am not in distress,” she protested.

At least not anymore. And she would have been in much, much more distress had he not fallen into that well with her.

He wasted no time in having Mary-Anne driven back to their lodgings by one of the grooms and bundling her inside whilst a concerned Mrs. Jones fussed over her.

“Why do you men always seem to wind up getting wet?” muttered the housekeeper. “First Leo, now you.”

“Leo?” Alex asked.

The housekeeper made a noise in the back of her throat but didn’t answer his question, then vanished to arrange for Lucinda’s care. She found herself swiftly installed on a sofa, wrapped in blankets, with a fire lit in the parlor room that was no doubt small for Eastwick standards. Before long, a cup of tea was pressed into her hands, and she heard Mrs. Jones say something about sending for soup before disappearing once more.

The warmth seeped back into her fingertips. She sipped the tea slowly and then scowled at Alex who watched her with a furrow on his brow.

“I am not going to die, you know.”

He chuckled and nodded. “I know.”

“You should get warm.” She nodded to his sodden breeches, only now aware he had no boots or jacket anymore.

“I’m fine.” He plucked at his shirt. “Practically dry now.”

“Have some tea.” She offered out her drink.

“Actually I think I’m in need of something stronger.” He moved over to a tall mahogany cabinet and opened the top two doors, revealing decanters and crystal glasses. “Would you like one?”

Noshould have been her first response. Strong liquor with a marquis whilst alone in his drawing room? But she had nearly died after all.

She nodded.

He poured two glasses full and brought them over. When he sat next to her, his weight on the sofa made her slide a little toward him, and their arms brushed. She drained her cup of tea and he took it from her, swapping it for the tumbler of amber liquid.

“Thank you,” she said hoarsely.

His gaze locked to hers.

She had nearly died today. No matter how much he tried to tell her otherwise, there was no denying if Mary-Anne had not discovered them, they might well have drowned in that well.

He knew it too. She could tell from the way he looked at her.

Her heart pounded fiercely, her breaths seemed loud in her ears. The world faded to dark, leaving only Alex with his damp, curling hair and the shirt that stuck to his muscular body.

Lucinda shifted forward quickly before she could change her mind and pressed a hard, swift kiss to his lips.