An Affair to Remember (17 page)

“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 uses 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 ar
rival, 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 un
tangled 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.”

He made a disgusted noise. “Hold on to the boat. I’m going to pull you ashore.”

She did as she was told and he managed to get them back to land without further mishap. The children crowded around as Anna stumbled onto the bank and sank into a heap.

Sir Phineas bent to peer into her face. “Just breathe,” he said helpfully.

Anna, struggling to do that very thing, silently wished him to Hades.

“Miss Thraxton?” Elizabeth said anxiously. She turned wide blue eyes to Anthony, who had come to stand beside her. “Maybe she needs a doctor.”

“Or a horse,” Selena offered.

“Why would she need a horse?” Desford demanded.

“To take her to the house,” Selena said, obviously annoyed she had to explain such a simple idea. “She’s too tired to stand and I don’t think Lord Greyley could carry her. She’s a very big woman.”

“I’m not big,” Anna said, lifting herself on her elbow and pushing her hair from her face. Of all the indignities, being called fat in front of Lord Greyley was more than she could handle. “I’m just tall. And I’m don’t need a horse. Really. I…I just need to rest.”

Anthony didn’t comment. There was no denying that her usually pale skin was even whiter than usual.

An unfamiliar stir of sympathy made Anthony turn to Sir Phineas. “Could you take the children back to the house? I will bring Miss Thraxton as soon as she has regained her breath.”

“We can’t leave yet,” Selena said, sucking on her finger. “She might throw up.”

Five hopeful gazes fixed on the governess while Sir Phineas manfully struggled to hide a grin.

Anna moaned and turned on her side. Sir Phineas hastily took Elizabeth and Selena by the hand and led them away. The other children followed, glancing back with regret. Only Selena voiced an objection, and that was to ask for someone to call them back immediately if Miss Thraxton fell ill.

Anthony waited patiently. After a moment, she sat up, her breathing more controlled. Her hair was knotted and tangled and a lump of lily pad hung over one ear. The water had darkened her red hair to a deep, rich auburn.

Anthony watched her, reluctantly admiring her. She’d been so damned determined to find his shoes and spare the children that she’d put herself at risk. He suddenly wondered if this was how she’d managed such success as a governess, by protecting her charges as if they were her own. “Are you better now?”

She managed to nod. “I think so.”

He stooped down so that he could see her face. Her dark brown lashes were splayed across her cheeks in perfect, pointed crescents. He reached out and slid a finger over them, disturbing the collected moisture on her cheeks.

Anna jerked away as if burned. “What are you doing?”

“Wondering how you can see through such thick lashes. They tangle at the corners, you know.”

“So do yours,” she replied, then flushed a deep, delightful pink.

Anthony’s groin tightened. God, but she was a magnificent woman—more woman than he’d ever known.

She pushed herself to her knees. “I really can swim, you know. It has just been a while.”

“How long?”

“I think I was ten. Somehow, I was better at it then.”

“I daresay you’d remember how if you had more practice.” He stood and held out his hand.

Without demur, she placed her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. “I don’t know what to say. This is quite awkward.”

“Drowning usually is.” He watched her mouth press together in a most delightful manner. Though she was thoroughly wet and beginning to sniffle, she still managed to possess an innate elegance. She would make a commanding countess.

Good God, where had that come from?
She might have the air one expected from a countess, but not the manner.

As if to confirm his thoughts, she pushed her hair from her face, succeeding only in shoving the lily pad to a more prominent position on the top of her head, then said in an ungracious tone, “I suppose I should thank you.”

“I suppose you should,” he replied. After all, he’d lost his slippers, and his new coat lay in the damp grass. “You should also inquire as to whether I’m injured. You left a footprint on my neck.”