Page 43 of The Scoundrel and the Debutante
She had no idea how long they rode in silence until Roan leaned down and said softly, “Look there.” He pointed over her shoulder.
Prudence looked in the direction he indicated and saw the curls of smoke rising above the treetops.
“A village,” he said. “That’s a happy sight, isn’t it?”
But a swirl of panic rose up in Prudence, rudely jerking her back to reality. “Oh no. No! I can’t go into a village likethis,” she said, glancing down at her dirty gown, the tail of her hair. “I need a fresh gown, to put up my hair.”
“As much as I would like to oblige you, I don’t think there are any baths that can be drawn out here,” Roan said. “And neither do I have a fresh gown for you.”
“You must allow me this! My family—”
“All right, all right,” he said, and tugged her back into his chest. “We’ll take a detour and follow the brook until we find you a suitable place to freshen.” He tugged at the reins of the horse and turned off the road, leading the nag down the trail beside the brook that had followed the road.
The brook turned west, and in the middle of a copse of trees, they found a small lake. It wasn’t very large—perhaps only three acres in all—and lily pads had choked off half of it. But cool, clear water lapped onto a grassy bank. Prudence could see grass waving just below the surface, and a bit farther out, the grass gave way to sediment. “It’s perfect,” she said, and removed her shoes and stockings, then hiked up the hem of her gown and waded in, ankle deep.“Oh.”She closed her eyes and delighted in the delicious feel of the grass tickling her feet, the cool water lapping around her ankles.
“Do you swim?”
Prudence glanced over her shoulder at Roan. He was standing on the bank, one foot propped on a rock, his arms folded, watching her. “Yes,” she said. “Do you?”
His gaze slid down her body and he reached for his neckcloth with one hand, pulling the ends free of the knot. “Like a fish,” he said. She watched him discard his coat and waistcoat, too, and pull his shirt free of his trousers. His gaze never left hers, the shine in his eyes making Prudence feel a little light-headed. His promise to another woman notwithstanding, her thoughts skirted across the memory of last night. They were almost to Himple. This extraordinary adventure would come to an end, and so would the most wonderfully intoxicating thing she’d ever known in her life. The damage to them both had been done. That’s why Prudence hesitated only a moment before she reached behind her and undid the buttons of her gown. She pulled it over her head and tossed it onto the shore, and stood there in her chemise.
Roan’s eyes darkened. His gaze traveled her body once more, but slowly, as if he was taking in every detail, committing it to memory.
She smiled and turned about, wading into the pond until her chemise floated about her waist. Her nipples jutted through the thin fabric, and Prudence spread her arms out to each side, so that her palms skimmed the water. She spread her toes, too, and let the mud squish between them.
This was a familiar feeling—it reminded her of her childhood. What a wonderful childhood it had been, too. She was so young when her father, a bishop in the Church of England, had died so unexpectedly. Her mother had remarried the Earl of Beckington, who was himself a widower, and the four Cabot sisters had trouped off to Longmeadow to be properly schooled in all the things an earl’s daughter was required to know. Music and needlework, painting and archery, geography and history. But when they weren’t at their lessons, they had acres and acres to explore. The sisters set out every summer day with their stepbrother, Augustine, in tow, who always followed them about like a puppy, warning them of all the dangers he imagined they would encounter.
One of their favorite summer pastimes was to spend the afternoon at the lake with their books. Augustine rarely came along—he was afraid of eels in the water, he said, although Prudence couldn’t recall a time she’d seen an eel. Prudence could picture the four of them now, walking down to the lake in single file, Honor carrying the picnic basket her mother had insisted they take along, and Grace with their books wrapped in a strap and hung over her shoulder, like a schoolboy. At the lake’s edge, they would strip down to their chemises and swim, diving beneath the surface, floating on their backs. When they’d tired of that, the four of them would lie on the grassy banks to dry, eating the cheese and bread from the basket, reading aloud from their books.
Oh, but she missed those days. Before they were out in society, before they’d entered the restrictivehaut ton,before their every move was scrutinized, their words repeated across Mayfair salons. Standing in this lake with its lily pads, Prudence felt as if she were back at Longmeadow. As if she’d somehow stepped back in time, free to be the girl she’d been then.
Shecouldbe the girl she was then, at least today. Prudence abruptly dipped down, spread her arms across the water and kicked. She was swimming.Swimming!
She tucked beneath the surface and exploded into light again, laughing and sputtering at the small little shock the cold had given her. She swam out into the middle of the lake, expecting Roan to call her back, to warn her as Augustine would warn them.Your chemise will drag you under the water, you fool!
Roan didn’t call her back. Roan let her swim.
Prudence rolled onto her back and floated a bit in the middle of the lake, blinking up at the clear blue sky above her head. Her hair fanned out around her like seaweed, and she idly moved her hands, coasting along, feeling the sun’s warmth on her face, slowly moving her feet.
She turned her head and saw Roan still standing where she’d left him. She flipped around and swam slowly toward the shore. “Can you guess how long it’s been since I’ve swum in a lake?”
He shook his head.
“Years,”she said, astounded by it. “I’d forgotten how much I like it.”
She dipped down again and swam toward him, until she could stand in waist-deep water. She gathered her hair over one shoulder and with both hands squeezed the water from it. “Come and join me!” she called up to him.
He shook his head.
Prudence laughed at him. “Do you fear me now?”
“I fear what you’re doing,” he said. “The risk is too great.”
“Oh?” She ran her hands over her head. “It’s my risk to take, isn’t it?”
“It’s also mine,” he reminded her.
Prudence smiled. She stepped closer to him. “Roan...we will be in Himple within the hour. I will be sent off, and you’ll go home, and...and won’t you swim with me, only once?”
