Yes indeed, the earl was coming along quite nicely.
Greyley flexed his shoulders as if to rid them of a troublesome knot. “Now, Desford, where are my shoes?”
The boy shrugged. “I don’t know. I voted against the idea.”
“You voted?”
“We always vote,” Marian said. “Robin’s merry men did it.”
“Desford says we’re a democracy, like the colonies,” Elizabeth added.
Greyley’s mouth had dropped open. He closed it and then swallowed. “Sweet Jesus, you voted to steal my shoes.”
“Oh no,” Elizabeth said with an earnest expression. “No one said anything about stealing. They are your shoes, no matter what.”
“That’s true,” Marian said, looking at the earl’s feet. “We just moved them.”
Anna rubbed a hand over her mouth to cover a grin. The earl looked so ridiculous wearing the small tasseled shoes.
“Where are my shoes?” Greyley asked again.
The children looked at Selena. Anna stooped down so that she could see into the child’s eyes. “Selena, did you take the earl’s shoes?”
Selena beamed pleasantly. “Richard helped me.”
Anna glanced at the silent boy, who stared stoically ahead, his face pale and set. He appeared so rigid with fear and emotion that Anna could not find it in her heart to be angry. She sighed and turned back to Selena. “Where are the earl’s shoes?”
Selena pointed vaguely away from the house. “There.”
Seething, Anthony followed the direction of her pudgy arm, across the lush expanse of lawn to the spreading oaks that trailed down to the—His gaze halted, his temper flaring. Damn it. “The pond.”
Elizabeth dropped the book. “Selena! You were just supposed to put them under something, where they couldn’t be seen.”
“We did put them under something,” Selena said, frowning at what she obviously considered a silly comment. “We put them under the water.”
Anna leaned toward the small girl. “Selena, you didn’t throw all of His Lordship’s shoes in the pond?”
Selena sucked on her finger, her brow wrinkled in thought. “Not all of them.”
Anthony relaxed a little. That was something, at least, he thought.
“Where are the shoes you didn’t toss in the water?” Anna asked.
The little girl pointed to Anthony’s feet. “Marian said they were too ugly to borrow, so Richard and I left them in the closet.”
Bloody hell. Anthony rubbed his neck. It was almost more than he could bear. Three months ago his biggest care had been the state of the south field. Now he was living in daily fear of waking up trussed and tied like a Christmas goose, his clothing stolen, his favorite horse sold to the gypsies.
“Selena,” Anna said, “why did you throw the earl’s shoes in the pond?”
“To see if his face would get red.” She looked at Anthony. “It did.”
Anthony thought of his new Hoby boots resting in the muck of the pond. Damn it, this was untenable! He opened his mouth to voice his anger, but found a soft hand laid against his lips, halting every thought in his head. Anna had moved to stand beside him. She was tantalizingly near, every feature emphasized by the brilliance of the morning sun.
Her skin was so soft, the faint scent of ink and paper lingering on her fingers. And he could feel where her breast pressed against his arm.
“Remember your bargain with Desford,” she said softly. “No cursing.”
Remember? How was he supposed to remember anything with those spectacular breasts pressed against him? He barely managed to nod, and she gave him a reassuring smile, then turned back to the children.
“How many shoes are we looking for?” she asked the children.
“Forty-two,” Marian said. Richard nodded.
Anna straightened. “You must be teasing.” She sent a questioning glance at Anthony.
He shrugged. “That sounds about right.”
“I would have never thought it, but you, sir, are a dandy.”
Anthony didn’t know how to respond. He’d been called arrogant, and thoughtless, and intractable. But never had anyone dared call him a dandy. “I am not a dandy. In fact, I am as far from being a dandy as it is possible to be.”
“Then why do you have so many shoes?”
He frowned, incredulous that she would even ask such a question. “Because they not only threw my shoes into the water, but all of my boots as well. They even tossed in my dress slippers.” He glared down at his feet and said grimly, “All except these.”
She bit her lip. “It is a pity they forgot those. I daresay they would look a good deal better in the pond.”
Anthony stiffened. “Just what do you mean by that?”
She didn’t appear the least put out by his harsh tone. In fact, there was a decided quiver to her lips, as if she were struggling to contain a giggle. “I’ve never thought of you as a tassel sort of man. But then one never knows, does one?”
Anthony promptly forgot that he had always hated the slippers. In fact, he’d been tempted to toss them into the fireplace when he’d first gotten them, but the realization that Aunt Delphi might someday visit made him think better of it. So he’d hidden them in his closet and forgotten about them until today. “You are supposed to get those children under control, Miss Thraxton.”
“We cannot make angels out of them overnight,” she replied easily. “After we have retrieved your shoes, we will discuss what is to be done with the children. Rest assured that they will pay for this escapade.” She turned and walked toward the pond, never checking to see if Anthony followed or not.
He was tempted to stay right where he was. After all, since the children were under her care, she was in part responsible for this latest debacle. “They are already ruined,” he said loudly.
“Perhaps. And perhaps not,” came the reply, floating across her shoulder. She walked with long, purposeful strides, and Anthony couldn’t help but admire the sway of her hips as she went.
Anthony glanced to where the children sat watching with curious gazes. “We will discuss this further once I’ve retrieved my shoes.”
Selena took her finger out of her mouth. “I can throw very far.”
“Can you?” he asked grimly.
“Farther than Richard.”
The boy looked sullenly at his sister, and for an instant Anthony thought the child might actually say something. But the moment passed, and Richard hunched his shoulders and turned to stare at the banks of the pond where Miss Thraxton was now standing.
Anthony raked a hand through his hair. The way things were going this morning, he wouldn’t be surprised to discover that his shoes were in the deepest part of that damned pond. Without another word, he turned and followed Anna to the water’s edge.
By the time he reached her, she had already tossed her shoes to one side and was standing barefooted among the reeds that lined the edges of the pond. She didn’t speak when he stood beside her, but stared out over the water with a wistful expression on her face that softened the line of her mouth.
She murmured, “It is quite lovely here.”
Anthony followed her gaze. Deep green grass surrounded the crystal water. Dragonflies hazed over the water, while the wind touched the reeds and made them dance.
“Did you add the pergola yourself?”
He nodded. “Sara is very fond of the water. I added the pergola when she was staying with me.”
She rewarded him with a brief smile. “You are a good brother. When we were in school, I was always jealous of her. She had all those brothers to write her letters and come and visit, while I had none.”
“She didn’t appreciate it.”
“Only when you became overly bossy. Which was most of the time.”
“We took care of her the best way we knew how.”
“I daresay you did.” She lifted her skirts and stepped neatly over the high grass toward a small skiff that was tied among the shallows. “Desford use
s this boat to fish, so it must be sound.”
“I wouldn’t trust it.”
“Nonsense,” she said, nimbly scrambling into the boat, only the edge of her skirts getting wet. It tipped unsteadily, but she quickly sat and took the oars. “Stay where you are and let me see if I can find your shoes. They cannot have tossed them far from shore.”
Anthony frowned. “Anna, wait—” But it was too late. She was already rowing from shore. Damn all independent women. “Come back here.”
“In a moment,” she said, holding the oars up so that she could peer over the side of the skiff. The boat tilted precariously with her movement.
“Miss Thraxton, if you do not give a care, you will fall in.”
“Nonsense. I will be back to shore in a moment.” She leaned over the other side, the boat tilting even more. “I can’t see your shoes at all. I hope they haven’t sunk into the muck.”
“And I hope you can swim,” he returned hotly, a curious weight in his chest. Bloody hell, but the pond was not a place for foolery. It was treacherously deep, the bottom covered with thick slime.
“Oh, I can swim,” she replied cheerfully, her gaze still fixed on the water. “But it doesn’t appear to be more than a few feet here, just like the pond at our old house in Milford.”
“Row ashore now.”
“And leave your shoes to rot in the water? Ledbetter would have my neck in a noose.”
“Not even Ledbetter will be able to find you should you fall in. The water is deeper than it looks.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t plan on overturning the boat so…” Her voice trailed into nothingness, her gaze fixed on her feet. “Oh dear.”
“What?”
“The boat is sinking.”
“What?”
She pushed herself to her knees on the plank seat, and Anthony could see that a portion of her skirts was already wet. “The water’s coming in quickly.”
“Can you bail it out?”
“With what?” she asked, moving to one side.
“Row ashore,” he snapped. “Quickly!”
She took hold of the oars and attempted to maneuver the boat around so that she could row, but one of the oars became entangled in a lily pad.
Anthony took a step forward, ignoring the way his slippers sank into the mud. From his vantage on the bank, he could see how quickly the boat was lowering in the water, the bow less than inch from the surface. “Anna, I’m going to—”
The bow dipped beneath the water. Anna gave a startled yelp as it tilted quickly to one side. “Oh dear!” she gasped, dropping the oars and scrambling to the high end of the boat.
“Stop that!” Anthony snapped. But it was too late. The small skiff flipped over, its sole occupant tumbling with it. Before Anthony’s horrified gaze, his new governess disappeared beneath the water with an ear-piercing shriek.
“She said she can swim,” said a voice behind Anthony. The children had gathered on the bank and stood not two paces behind him.
The water churned as Miss Thraxton surfaced briefly, then disappeared once more, her wet skirts pulling her under. Anthony muttered a curse, kicked off his tasseled slippers, and yanked off his coat.
“Maybe she’s swimming under water?” Elizabeth offered.
Desford shot her a disgusted glance. Even he knew better than that.
The earl apparently thought the same, for he didn’t answer. He was already marching into the water, tossing his coat aside and muttering the whole while. “Damn that interfering woman! I warned her—” He dove beneath the surface.
Elizabeth stared at the spot where he disappeared. “I think he’s angry at Miss Thraxton.”
“I wouldn’t be happy about having to swim. It’s cold,” Desford said, trying to sound calm when his throat was curiously tight. “Just like a girl, to get into trouble doing the simplest thing.”
Elizabeth jutted her chin. “Miss Thraxton was trying to find the earl’s shoes, which we lost.”
“We didn’t lose his shoes,” Selena said, frowning in indignation. “I knew ’xactly where they were.” She looked at the pond with a speculative air. “Miss Thraxton probably has them with her now.”
Desford blew out his breath, his chest aching as the seconds passed. “Miss Thraxton is not getting the shoes. She’s drowning because her skirts are holding her down.”
Selena looked startled. “Will she die?”
“No,” Desford replied almost fiercely. His stomach hardened into a knot. He hadn’t meant for Miss Thraxton to be dunked in the water, but Greyley. Who would have known the governess would strike out on the pond without anyone with her?
The water by the boat churned. A red swath of hair appeared at the surface, followed by Miss Thraxton’s pale face. She gasped loudly as she broke free, a strand of lily pad tangled in her hair and dangling across her face.
Her arms flailed wildly. “Help—” She disappeared beneath the surface once more.
Greyley reached her at just that moment. He dove under water and for an instant, silence once more filled the glen.
Marian sighed, her hands clasped to her chest. “He’s going to rescue her, I just know it. It’s like a fairy tale.”
Desford eyed the water where the earl had just disappeared. He supposed it could be called a rescue. Still—it wasn’t a very deep pool. If Miss Thraxton would just get two feet more to her left, she would be able to stand at ease. Or so Desford hoped. A faint ache throbbed in his throat. Surely Miss Thraxton would be all right…
A hand settled on Desford’s shoulder. He looked up into the gently smiling eyes of Sir Phineas.
“I once played that very trick on my brother, Dickie. Rodgers, our head groom, had to jump in and save him.” He gently squeezed Desford’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about a thing. My Anna’s a strong woman and Greyley has her firmly in hand.”
Desford’s chest tightened even more and he thought for a moment about confessing all. But he had the feeling that he didn’t need to say a word. He was still mulling this over when the water erupted once again and Miss Thraxton appeared once more, this time assisted by the earl. He was trying to hold her aloft, but she struggled mightily, her skirts tangled about her long legs, her red hair streaming about her. “Don’t drop me!” she gasped, clutching him frantically.
“She’s just like a mermaid,” Marian said, her voice awed.
Elizabeth fingered the ribbon that tied her hair. “I wish I had red hair. Long, long red hair. Desford, don’t you think Miss Thraxton’s hair is pretty?”
He shot her a disgusted look. Since Miss Thraxton’s arrival, Elizabeth had become the biggest girl. Not only that, but both Elizabeth and Marian had shown a regretful tendency to join the enemy camp.
Grandmama was right—the sooner they were all rid of the governess’s influence, the better. Still…the comforting warmth of Sir Phineas’s hand made him pause. When Desford really thought about it, he realized that he did not like his grandmother. As much as he wanted to believe her protestations of affection, they rang false.
“Look, Desford!” Marian said, pointing. “Miss Thraxton is trying to climb onto the earl’s shoulders.”
Sure enough, Miss Thraxton had managed to hook her knee over the earl’s shoulder and was even now trying to climb atop his head.
“Oh no!” Elizabeth cried. “She’s pushing him under!”
Before the children’s interested gazes, the two disappeared from sight once more.
Selena sighed sadly. “I suppose we’ll be getting another governess after all.”
Desford snorted, desperate to prove her wrong. “It’ll take more than a little water to get rid of Miss Thraxton.” He found himself leaning against the old man, the faint scent of tobacco making his eyes sting.
“Lord Greyley has Miss Thraxton now!” Marian said excitedly.
Kicking free from the cold depths of the pond, Anthony was actively thinking of all the other, smaller governesses he should have hired. There was the Shropshire woman who was
reportedly very well trained. And then there was the Kendalls’ new governess, a linguist with an allegedly uncanny way of teaching watercolors.
If it had been anyone other than Anna Thraxton, he would not now be drowning in his own frigid pond. He untangled himself from her grasp and then grabbed her beneath the arms once again, and hauled her back to the surface.
As soon as she broke free, she began to cough and sputter, clutching his shirt frantically.
“Easy,” Anthony admonished. “I’m treading water and—”
She grabbed his hair and attempted to climb him like a ladder. Water filled his mouth as she desperately attempted to get on top of him, her leg pressing down on his shoulder, her arm slung across his head.
It was true he’d dreamed of her in this exact position—of her thigh against his cheek, her womanhood enticingly near his mouth. Only in his dreams, she hadn’t been screaming for help and he hadn’t been drowning beneath the surface of a murky pond.
He yanked her leg from his shoulder and pushed her away, then grabbed the overturned skiff. “Good God, woman!” he managed to choke out. “Stay still or I’ll let the fish have you!” He pushed the upended skiff forward at that moment, relaxing only when she clung gratefully to one corner. As soon as he got her back to shore, he’d be damned if he wouldn’t exact a complete and thorough apology from her.
She clung to the boat, laying her head against the wet wood, her hair streaming over her shoulders and floating in a russet circle about her shoulders.
Anthony’s irritation dissipated when he saw her pale face. “Are you hurt?”
A shuddering breath ripped from her lips. Her gray eyes appeared almost green as she panted her answer. “I thought…I thought I was…going to drown.”
“So did I. You said you could swim.”
“I can,” she said, gulping air.
“You call that swimming?”
She frowned, her panting already lessened. “I never said I was good at it. And I’ve never had to swim with skirts.”