Her legs were exhausted, but she set out for the other side of the rock. Four kicks and she was there. When her feet at last touched the bottom she was nearly overwhelmed by a flood of relief, followed by exhilaration.
She’d done it!
She had not only swum for the first time, she’d saved Otis from drowning, as Andrew had once saved her. At the thought of what could have happened if she had failed, her knees weakened and she felt dizzy.
She pushed wet hair from her eyes and stepped up onto the rock. Otis was crouched down on the far side, staring into the water. Beside him, looking sleek and unconcerned, was Jarvis, grooming himself.
“I’m fine,” Eugenia called, and broke into a fit of coughing. Otis started to his feet, gave a shriek, and hurled himself into her arms. “We thought you sank!”
All that could be seen on the other side of the rock was a spreading pool of bubbles. Just as Eugenia was wondering whether she ought to jump in the better to reassure Ward of her safety, his head broke the surface.
When he saw her, his face filled with an emotion she couldn’t interpret. Her heart thumped; perhaps the near tragedy would make him realize that he loved her.
“I had no need for a rescue,” she called, “but I thank you for your effort.”
“Don’t move,” he shouted. “I’d like to speak with you, Mrs. Snowe.”
His bellow was manifestly not that of an anguished man arriving late to the realization of true love.
“We can speak later,” she called, retrieving her slippers and turning to go. Otis prattled all the way back up to the house, mostly to Jarvis but also to her.
As if she had eyes in the back of her head, Eugenia was aware that Ward cut through the water to the shore in a couple of irritated strokes. He picked up her forgotten length of toweling, rubbed his head, and started up the lawn after them.
“I saved myself,” Eugenia whispered to no one in particular, as she crossed the threshold into the entry.
Gumwater was there, his eyebrows twitching as she and Otis dripped lake water over the marble floor.
“Your maid awaits you, Mrs. Snowe,” he announced. “Your trunk is already stowed on the carriage, but she held back a dry garment for you.”
“Thank you, Gumwater,” she said. She bent down and kissed Otis and, when a plump, wet rat was thrust toward her, she kissed the general area around Jarvis’s whiskers. “I will visit you at Eton,” she promised the boy.
The door slammed open and Ward strode in. “I thought I made it clear there would be no swimming on that side of the rock,” he barked at the two of them.
Apparently he thought she had willfully put a child at risk. Lovely.
Eugenia managed a smile. “I think that Otis and I both learned our lesson as regards deep water, Mr. Reeve.” She bent down and gave Otis a tight hug, causing the two of them to drip even more water on the floor. “You were very brave,” she whispered, loving the feeling of his spindly arms wrapping tightly around her waist.
Then she straightened, turned to her host, and held out her hand. “Mr. Reeve, I shall take my leave as soon as I have changed into a gown, so I will bid you goodbye now.”
He merely looked at her proffered hand.
“I can scarcely curtsy in soaking-wet breeches,” she said, exasperated. Apparently he insisted upon ladylike behavior to the end.
She bobbed a curtsy and turned to climb the stairs. Sadness weighed as heavy as her drenched clothing. It was truly over. The next time she saw Edward Reeve, it would be as mere acquaintances.
At the same time, she was proud of herself in a way she hadn’t been in years. She had broken—no, shattered—the glass coffin that had encased her since Andrew’s death.
She had conquered her fear of water, taught herself to swim, and had an affaire with a beautiful man.
Fallen in love with him.
Ward didn’t return her feelings, which was painful, but even that was good. Pain was . . . Pain was proof she was alive.
Andrew had loved her with everything he was, and he had respected her too. She deserved that kind of love. True, she was no longer the same docile young lady whom Andrew had known.
But someday she would meet a man who valued her for the strong person she had become.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Eugenia was gone.
At the end of the day, Ward sat in his library, collapsed onto a chair like a puppet with no strings. She was gone.
Lizzie had burst into tears at luncheon. Gumwater said something snide, so Ward sacked him. He didn’t want his sister growing up around that kind of overt dislike.
Yes, he had grown up with servants’ disrespect, but what the hell was he thinking, allowing his sister to be subjected to the same contempt, albeit for her sex, not her birth?