innocent words. She didn’t move either. Indeed, she tried very hard not even to breathe.
“Look at me,” Meriden commanded in a tone that told her she had better obey him, and at once. When she had done so, he asked, “Is that true?”
Swallowing carefully, Emily realized she was more aware of his size at that moment than she had ever been before. Nodding slowly, she said with as much dignity as she could muster, “It is true that I can swim, sir, but—”
She got no further before Meriden threw her back in.
The only difference this time was that the water felt a degree warmer and she thought he had flung her a few yards farther. When she surfaced, sputtering, the earl was already striding up the lawn, his buckskins clinging damply to his heavily muscled thighs. He had taken off his coat, which hung limply over his arm. By the time she had swum to shore, he had altered his course, heading not for the house but for the stables, anger showing in every line of his body. Shivering in the chilly air, Emily thought of the ride he had ahead of him.
“I hope he catches the ague,” she muttered wrathfully.
“Oh, he won’t,” Dolly said, offering Emily the pink shawl she had left behind. “Cousin Jack is never ill. He said he got sick once at school but didn’t care for all the fuss, so he never did so again.”
“Well, he’s likely to take a chill at least if he rides any distance in those clothes,” Emily said, not without a certain amount of grim satisfaction.
Oliver said, “He won’t ride home in them. He will get dry clothes from one of the men in the stables if he can find one whose rags he can squeeze himself into. Oh, indeed,” he added, laughing at Emily’s astonished expression, “I tell you the man never cares a whit for what he looks like. None of the lads is nearly as big as he is. No one hereabouts is. Here, that shawl is useless, ma’am. Take my coat before you freeze.”
Sabrina said, “You are wrong, Oliver. You forget Mr. Scopwick.” She looked at Emily, her blue eyes dancing. “He is a cousin of Miss Lavinia’s and our local vicar, a most formidable man. I promise you, my dear, he would be better named Goliath than Scopwick, for his clothes would hang even on Jack. But come now, you must hurry inside and change into dry clothes yourself. I fear your lovely dress is ruined, but no doubt Meriden will buy you a new one when he regains control of his temper.”
“Sabrina, don’t talk nonsense,” Emily said, gratefully wrapping Oliver’s heavy purple coat around her shoulders and gathering up enough wet skirt to enable her to walk up the grassy hill. After some moments of squishing discomfort, she bent down and removed her sandals, which, tied as they were around her ankles, had neither impeded her swimming nor come loose in the water. Carrying them by their strings, she followed the others across the lawn, only to wish she had not removed them at all when she reached the pebbled drive.
“Emily,” Sabrina said, watching her pick her way carefully over the stones, “I do wish you had not come to cuffs with Jack like that. It makes matters very awkward.”
Oliver said grimly, “I, for one, think she did exactly the right thing, calling him to account as she did. I only wish I might have stopped him from throwing her in the lake.”
“You didn’t even try,” Emily pointed out caustically as she reached the steps at last. “Not either time.”
“But what could I have done?” Oliver asked. “Cousin Jack spars with Gentleman Jackson in London, and the only one around here who can give him a match is Harry Enderby, so you cannot have expected me to knock him down. I’ve no pistol or sword by me at the moment, and I am not such a gudgeon as to challenge him with either one, so what ought I to have done, if you please?”
“Nothing at all,” Emily admitted, smiling ruefully at him. “I ought not to have teased you, Oliver. The fight was my own, and so, rightly, were the
“Look at me,” Meriden commanded in a tone that told her she had better obey him, and at once. When she had done so, he asked, “Is that true?”
Swallowing carefully, Emily realized she was more aware of his size at that moment than she had ever been before. Nodding slowly, she said with as much dignity as she could muster, “It is true that I can swim, sir, but—”
She got no further before Meriden threw her back in.
The only difference this time was that the water felt a degree warmer and she thought he had flung her a few yards farther. When she surfaced, sputtering, the earl was already striding up the lawn, his buckskins clinging damply to his heavily muscled thighs. He had taken off his coat, which hung limply over his arm. By the time she had swum to shore, he had altered his course, heading not for the house but for the stables, anger showing in every line of his body. Shivering in the chilly air, Emily thought of the ride he had ahead of him.
“I hope he catches the ague,” she muttered wrathfully.
“Oh, he won’t,” Dolly said, offering Emily the pink shawl she had left behind. “Cousin Jack is never ill. He said he got sick once at school but didn’t care for all the fuss, so he never did so again.”
“Well, he’s likely to take a chill at least if he rides any distance in those clothes,” Emily said, not without a certain amount of grim satisfaction.
Oliver said, “He won’t ride home in them. He will get dry clothes from one of the men in the stables if he can find one whose rags he can squeeze himself into. Oh, indeed,” he added, laughing at Emily’s astonished expression, “I tell you the man never cares a whit for what he looks like. None of the lads is nearly as big as he is. No one hereabouts is. Here, that shawl is useless, ma’am. Take my coat before you freeze.”
Sabrina said, “You are wrong, Oliver. You forget Mr. Scopwick.” She looked at Emily, her blue eyes dancing. “He is a cousin of Miss Lavinia’s and our local vicar, a most formidable man. I promise you, my dear, he would be better named Goliath than Scopwick, for his clothes would hang even on Jack. But come now, you must hurry inside and change into dry clothes yourself. I fear your lovely dress is ruined, but no doubt Meriden will buy you a new one when he regains control of his temper.”
“Sabrina, don’t talk nonsense,” Emily said, gratefully wrapping Oliver’s heavy purple coat around her shoulders and gathering up enough wet skirt to enable her to walk up the grassy hill. After some moments of squishing discomfort, she bent down and removed her sandals, which, tied as they were around her ankles, had neither impeded her swimming nor come loose in the water. Carrying them by their strings, she followed the others across the lawn, only to wish she had not removed them at all when she reached the pebbled drive.
“Emily,” Sabrina said, watching her pick her way carefully over the stones, “I do wish you had not come to cuffs with Jack like that. It makes matters very awkward.”
Oliver said grimly, “I, for one, think she did exactly the right thing, calling him to account as she did. I only wish I might have stopped him from throwing her in the lake.”
“You didn’t even try,” Emily pointed out caustically as she reached the steps at last. “Not either time.”
“But what could I have done?” Oliver asked. “Cousin Jack spars with Gentleman Jackson in London, and the only one around here who can give him a match is Harry Enderby, so you cannot have expected me to knock him down. I’ve no pistol or sword by me at the moment, and I am not such a gudgeon as to challenge him with either one, so what ought I to have done, if you please?”
“Nothing at all,” Emily admitted, smiling ruefully at him. “I ought not to have teased you, Oliver. The fight was my own, and so, rightly, were the
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