Seven Minutes in Heaven(77)
A shiver went through her body as he ground against her. “It’s dreadfully inappropriate,” she said, nodding.
“I can’t stop myself.” His voice was savage with pure emotion. “Damn it.”
If the duchess ever learned that he had dallied with Eugenia—let alone that he had contemplated marriage to her—she would use the knowledge to wrest the children from his care.
“No one will find out,” Eugenia said, pressing kisses on his neck.
His heart stuttered at the look in her eyes.
“We will guard the secret,” she promised. “No one will guess because, frankly, Mrs. Eugenia Snowe of Snowe’s Registry is precisely whom you require by way of a superior governess. They will delight themselves by trying to guess how much money you paid me. What’s more, I’ll travel to my father’s house as soon as a new governess arrives, even if that occurs earlier than a fortnight.”
The idea of Eugenia departing caused an iron band to tighten around Ward’s chest. He would never have enough of her.
Eugenia pulled free and reached for the cord to summon her maid.
“No,” he rasped, too late.
“We have no time to make love.” She put her hands on her hips, her dressing gown revealing a sliver of a tender flesh, the rounded under-curve of a perfect breast.
The last shadow had flown from Eugenia’s face, replaced by her joyous smile. He lunged at her, but she pushed him back. “Swimming lesson first. If you’re lucky, I’ll dip a toe in the water.” Her eyes were dancing.
The iron band around his chest relaxed. They had made it through.
She’d forgiven him.
She had understood.
Chapter Thirty-one
It took Eugenia a full hour to force herself down to the lake. In the end, she managed it only because of a strongly worded message from Ward, accompanied by a pair of breeches and a shirt borrowed from a stable boy.
Clothilde was scandalized by the breeches, especially viewed from the rear. But given that the shirt fell well below her bottom, Eugenia was far more bothered by the idea of entering the water.
She found Lizzie sitting on a great rock, watching Otis and Ward splash in the water.
The little girl jumped up and bobbed a curtsy. “Good morning, Mrs. Snowe! I was afraid that you wouldn’t come.”
“I apologize,” Eugenia said. “Ladies should never be tardy.”
“That side is deep,” Lizzie said, pointing to a slice of dark water to her left. “We’re not allowed to go there, ever. But it’s shallow on this side.”
Ward began heading toward them. The folds of his linen shirt clung to every ridge on his chest. Even in the grip of anxiety, she registered how extraordinarily alive and vigorous he looked. A beautiful, wet male.
“Did you see that I’m wearing breeches, just like you?” Lizzie asked, as Eugenia stepped up onto the rock. “They belong to Otis but they fit me. This is one of his shirts.”
“Indeed I did,” Eugenia said, sitting down. Her breeches tightened on her thighs, making them even more indecent. She tucked her feet to the side and arranged the shirt to cover her legs.
Ward had reached them. “Good morning, Mrs. Snowe,” he said gravely, as if he hadn’t left her bedchamber a mere hour before. “The water is surprisingly warm for May. May I escort you to the water’s edge?”
“I’d prefer to sit and watch for a minute or two,” Eugenia said, forcing her voice to remain steady. It was essential that she not communicate her fear to Lizzie. “Otis certainly seems to have taken to the water.”
Otis had mastered the trick of floating. He resembled a river otter she’d once seen paddling in circles on his back.
“It’s your turn, Lizzie,” Ward said. “You wished to wait for Mrs. Snowe, and here she is.”
Lizzie’s fingers turned into talons clutching Eugenia’s hand. “Are you certain there’s nothing dead in the lake?”
“Not a thing,” Ward said, holding out his arms. “Come on, Lizzie, my girl. No time like the present.”
He carried her off without insisting that Eugenia join them, so she sank back on the warm rock instead.
Wavelets glinted in the mid-day sunlight, turning the lake’s surface into liquid gold. It was pretty, but a part of her couldn’t help remembering the water closing over her head that terrible day. Her screams when Andrew didn’t reappear seemed to be echoing in her ears.
Ward had coaxed Lizzie to put a foot in the water. Eugenia let her forehead sink onto her knees.
What was she doing here?
Not at the lake, here.
She was quite proud of herself for embarking on an affaire. Susan would be pleased; Ward may fancy that he’d devised the idea of kidnapping her, but she recognized the Machiavellian hand of her best friend.