Page 23 of Masquerading with the Duke
She didn’t expect to sleep, but she woke to discover that the sun had moved higher in the sky and that the rays penetrating the window were now directly on her face. She must have slept for quite a while, but it wasn’t the sun that had woken her; it had been a noise. She was no longer here alone. Not unduly panicked, she kneeled up on her bed and glanced out the window, expecting to see a member of the family chancing his hand with a fishing rod.
She gasped as a man emerged from the lake almost beneath the balcony of the boathouse wearing only his knee-length drawers that were graphically plastered to the contours of his body. Water glistened on his muscled torso, the definition of which deprived her of the ability to breathe. A dog swam ashore at his side, shaking vigorously as his paws reached the bank, water flying off the ends of his long ears.
‘Oh my!’ she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand as she watched Mr Braden with rapt fascination. He reminded her of a latter-day Poseidon, only better tempered, better built and without the trident.
She had seen naked men before; far too many of them. Drunken, dispossessed gangs rampaging their way through Spain as the new king struggled to gain control of the war-ravaged country. It was every man for himself. Many behaved worse than animals and committed all sorts of atrocities, memories of which would never leave her. She had only managed to avoid being one of their victims thanks to Ariana’s ingenuity. As a consequence, she didn’t trust men and had absolutely no interest in gawping at them—clothed or otherwise. She had been obliged to suppress the frequent desire to warn the Misses Redrow that finding husbands wouldn’t necessarily equate to a comfortable life, which made her inability to tear her gaze away from Mr Braden’s male perfection that much harder to fathom.
She must have made some sound that alerted him to her presence. He looked directly at her window, pushed the wet hair away from his face and scowled.
‘What the devil are you doing here?’ he asked.
*
Surprise and embarrassment caused Jared to remain rooted to the spot and to sound more acerbic than had been his intention.
‘Here. Take this.’
Martina surprised him by stepping out onto the veranda and throwing a towel she had taken from the boathouse at him. He caught it one-handed, and draped is around his waist, feeling a little more in control now that the most embarrassing part of his anatomy was under cover. She turned away from him immediately but didn’t go back into the boathouse.
‘How long have you been there?’ he asked.
‘An hour. Two.’ She lifted one shoulder. ‘I have no idea. I fell asleep.’
‘You didn’t hear me arrive?’
‘Obviously not. Surely you don’t think that I was deliberately spying on you?’ The possibility that he might have reached that conclusion clearly infuriated her. ‘I am no voyeur,’ she said, lifting her chin imperiously. ‘And even if I was, there is nothing out of the ordinary on show.’
‘Ouch!’ he replied, laughing at her in an effort to ease the tension between them. ‘I did not mean to suggest that you were spying, and I am sorry if I frightened you. I’ve been riding and got overheated. This seemed like the easiest way to cool off. I had intended to lie on the bank and dry myself off in the sun, but since you are here…’
‘Please don’t let me stop you.’ Thor trotted up to her and she tugged at his wet ears. ‘I will leave you to your solitude.’
‘There’s no need for you to go, unless I make you uncomfortable.’
She turned to face him, her expression unreadable. ‘I am no more afraid of you than I am impressed by your…’ She waved a hand and her face flooded with colour, lending a lie to her assertion.
‘I would not have you be,’ he replied softly. ‘Afraid or impressed, that is. I honestly didn’t know you were here. Give me a moment and I will put my clothes on, then you will feel more comfortable.’
She turned her back again and he did so, quickly. His wet drawers would soak his breeches, but there was no help for that.
‘There, that’s about as good as it gets,’ he said, moving to sit on the veranda steps, smiling but careful to keep his distance from her. He sensed that she was uncertain about him. Not exactly afraid, but wary nonetheless. He leaned back on his elbows, relaxed and curious about her, waiting to see what she would do now.
‘I have to collect tadpoles.’ She waved an empty jar at him, appearing to think that she owed him an explanation for her presence. ‘Leo’s hasn’t survived, which has caused considerable consternation in the nursery.’
‘I can well imagine.’ He took the jar from her. ‘Let me do it for you and save you from getting muddy.’
She seemed determined to remain independent, and he thought she might decline his help. But after a moment’s hesitation she nodded her thanks and passed him her jar. Jared went back to the bank and captured a couple of half-metamorphized tadpoles. Thor surprised him by remaining with Martina, who had taken up Jared’s seat on the steps. She made a fuss of him as he rubbed his big head against her side.
‘He likes you,’ Jared said, returning with his tadpoles and putting the jar down on the veranda. ‘And he’s a very good judge of character.’
‘Well, I suppose you would say so, given that he seems devoted to you.’
‘Ah,’ Jared said with an easy smile, ‘that’s because I rescued him and saved his life. That makes him my responsibility whether I like it or not.’
‘If you save someone’s life, you imagine that makes them your responsibility,’ she remarked.
‘I have always thought so,’ he replied. ‘You and your sister were helped by Lord Amos, I gather. I don’t know what he saved you from or why your lives were in danger, but I expect he feels a degree of responsibility for you, nevertheless.’
‘Perhaps,’ she said, nodding distractedly.
