Page 32 of Rules for a Bastard Lord
“I know ye do. Ever since you were a babe, you had plans. But girl, listen to an old woman. Plans is one thing. Pie in the sky is another. And you—”
“Thank you, Widow Dwight, for the bath. I’m going to leave now. Tell Mr. Hallowsby that I’ll come by the inn later for another lesson.”
“A lesson! In what?”
“In speaking like a lady.”
“But you—”
“Bye!”
Then she was off, stomping toward her house as if she meant to go there. She didn’t though. She had another destination in mind.
It took a while. The widow watched her for ever so long, but in the end, the old lady turned back to her washing. Good. The moment the widow went behind the tub, Maybelle cut sideways into the trees. She’d been running around this stream all her life, so she knew exactly where and how to cross it. And from there, it was easy as pie to sneak through the trees to where Mr. Hallowsby should be bathing.
And there he was, lying on his back in the water…
Stark naked.
She swallowed. She knew that she ought to look away, but she couldn’t. She’d seen men before, but they’d all been at a distance as they worked in the field. Or sick ones that she brought possets to. But Mr. Hallowsby was a healthy male and…
Stand up. Stand up. Stand up.
The words were a refrain in her head as she crouched in the shadows. She couldn’t see anything, since he was floating under the trees. Only that he was there. Only that…
He straightened.
She saw his wet head pop up and then came his broad shoulders. His back was to her as he scanned the bank on the other side. She got to see white skin, rippling muscles, and…whip scars? They were long, thin, and crisscrossed his back.
He was submerged to the lowest part of his ribcage, so she could see only the expanse of skin and broad back. She knew he was tall, but his height disguised the width of his shoulders and his lean strength.
She swallowed, willing him to stand up all the way. The widow was right. He was a fine figure of a man.
He straightened further, and she watched as his narrow waist appeared along with the indentations before his bottom.
Next came his bum, small and tight. He was standing full upright then, and the water came to where his thighs bunched with corded lines. Truly, there was no softness in the man, and her mouth went dry watching.
Then he twisted to look over his shoulder…and found her where she crouched beside a bush. She froze, thinking perhaps he couldn’t distinguish her from the foliage, but his words proved her wrong.
“Ladies don’t hide behind bushes, Bluebell.”
True right, they didn’t. But she wasn’t a lady yet, so she forgave herself. “I came to…I came to see if you needed anything.”
“If you’re going to lie, then you can leave.”
She winced. She didn’t want to go. She also didn’t like being caught ogling a man.
“Why did you come here, Bluebell? Tell the truth this time.”
Did she? Could she? Why not?
“Widow Dwight said you were a fine fig’ of a man. I wanted t’ see.” She got it all out in a rush.
He smiled at her, the expression slow and wicked. “Slow down your words, Bluebell. Ladies speak slowly.”
She stared at him, confused by his actions. He was just standing there, his back to her as he talked over his shoulder. Wouldn’t most men at least crouch back down into the water?
“I wanted to see if she was right,” she said excruciatingly slowly.
