Authors: Something Like a Lady
Kay Springsteen (15 page)
Without the wooden case to deflect the branches, the tangled undergrowth clawed and scraped Annabella
’
s tender skin. Pain blazed a track along her shin, but she ignored it. Not even the sound of tearing cloth discouraged her from her mission. She had to ensure the safety of those banknotes.
At the painful yank on
her hair
,
she let out a soft cry and stopped walking. Her hands shook as she struggled to release
the trapped strands
from
an
overhead branch. Only after several deep breaths and much excruciating tugging did she manage to free herself. But her white lace cap remained hopelessly tangled in the mess. She had no choice but to leave it behind.
She stepped into the dell and stood still. No one was about; the little glade was deserted. Had he
been there
? Had he found the case and left? Annabella moved to her hiding place in the old oak. Heart pounding hard, she winced against her natural fear of what creatures might linger in the grass as she pushed it aside and reached into the hole in the tree. The back of her hand encountered the cool smoothness of the polished wood
,
and she released her pent-up breath. The case was still there.
But she had to see inside. It took a bit of manipulation to lift the
box
from its hiding place. Once it was on the ground, she pulled a pin from her hair and used it to open the lock, which sprung more easily than it had the day before. Tense, she raised the lid.
The wind ruffled the banknotes. Safe. The notes were safe. At a soft rustling in the bushes across the glade, Annabella jerked around, ready to defend herself. But no one stood there.
“
Silly!
‘
Twas the wind, nothing more.
”
It was hard to secure the case with the way her hands trembled, but she managed to close the lid and shove
it
back into the trunk
’
s hollow portion. When she stood, she brushed at the grass surrounding the tree, hoping if someone happened by they wouldn
’
t notice how crushed it looked.
So if Seabrook hadn
’
t come to the glade, where had he gone? What had drawn him into the woods? Or had Abby been mistaken? Maybe he
’
d stepped into the woods and then come back out again when Abby hadn
’
t seen.
She shook her head and puffed out a long breath.
“
I
’
m going mad. Imagining Seabrook out prowling the woods, of all things.
”
A magpie scolded from the lowest branch of the beech tree.
“
Marvelous, I
’
m talking to the birds now. I
must
be mad.
”
She stalked toward the edge of the glade, shoved the branches aside, and stepped throug
h the opening.
“
Besides, the insufferable man probably went up to the stable. With any good fortune at all, he
’
ll have taken his hoity-toity romping and ruining backside
away
to London, where no doubt he
’
ll find a lovely suitable young lady and never mind
the poor maid he—
”
Cheery whistling filtered through the bushes, interrupting her thoughts. Annabella stopped her tirade with her steps and listened. Some insanely happy person was apparently out for a stroll.
Annabella
’
s lip curled.
“
Seaside!
”
Ignoring the path back to the cottage, she aimed her footsteps toward the brook.
“
When I catch up with him, I
’
ll kick him. I
’
ll dump him into the dirt. I
’
ll — I
’
ll…
”
Calm settled over her and a smile lifted her lips along with her spirits.
“
I
’
ll push him into the water.
”
She and Juliet had often indulged in such play, and many was the occasion they
’
d tramped home, their clothing soaked, from pushing each other in. At such times, Annabella
’
s mother had despaired of her ever developing the sense and sensibility of a lady.
She certainly wasn
’
t behaving like a lady as she marched along the path to the brook, muttering pithy curses under her breath. She burst through the bushes at the end of the trail, hoping to surprise Seabrook, then just stopped and stared flabbergasted at the naked man swimming in the pool where she
’
d played as a girl.
At least she presumed he was naked. He certainly had on nothing to cover his well-muscled back, which was turned in her direction. The first morning sunlight painted his darkish skin golden, and those muscles bunched and bulged as he leaned back and dipped his head in the pool. Then he righted himself, shaking droplets of water from his black hair.
“
Oh, blessed fire,
”
she breathed, taking an involuntary step backward as waves of heat and chills rolled over her at the same time. Outrageous quivers began in her middle. Had she touched— When they
’
d—
“
Oh, my.
”
Unfamiliar sensations — not all of them bad — swelled within her, throbbed in time with her racing heart. Blood roared in her ears.
Annabella squeezed her eyes shut and tried to slow her breathing. When she opened them again, she
forced her gaze
away
,
to the other side of the pond. Stark white cambric stood out against the gray-green of a spiky gorse hedge well away from the pool. Seabrook
’
s shirt lifted and fell in the gentle breeze, and next to that, a brown tweed tailcoat and a pair of black trousers. He
’
d taken care to keep them dry.
She stared at the garments and narrowed her eyes. Yes… he
had
taken care with his clothing. Slowly, she c
rept toward the thorny evergreen bushes. When she reached
her goal
, she stole a glance at the pond, but he still cavorted with his back to her.
He
’
s watching the road!
A smile slid over her lips at the richness of it. He was so concerned he might be sighted from the road, he
’
d no idea what she was about.
She touched the fluttering
white shirt. The fabric reminded her of silk — it was so smooth and soft. Very fine quality, that. It would be a shame if it got wet. Keeping her gaze fixed on Seabrook, she snatched his shirt. The scent of him twined into her nostrils, wrapped around her in a dizzying unseen embrace.
Her breath rushed from her, leaving her momentarily helpless. But she broke the spell with a shake of her head and grabbed his coat. With a little stretching, she was able to snag his trousers as well. Her gaze lit on his fine Hessian boots. She shouldn
’
t…
Heavy fingers against her waist in a possessive grasp… warm breath fanning her bare shoulder…
Clenching her teeth together, she stooped and grabbed his boots by the tops. Garments in hand, she advanced on the pool where her unsuspecting victim floated on his back.
***
*
“
Seaside!
”
Annabella
’
s enraged bellow from somewhere behind him jerked Jon from his pleasant reverie. He stood and turned but kept himself low in the water,
painfully
aware of his immodest state. It seemed the lady had him at a disadvantage.
She stood in magnificent glory about two steps away from the edge of the pond. The morning sun gilded her mane of blonde hair as it flowed over her shoulders and down her back. A few strands stuck out on either side, lending the illusion that someone had recently had his hands buried in that mass of gold. Beneath the water, Jon
’
s hands fisted reflexively at the thought, and he eased out a breath, concentrating on uncurling his fingers.
“
Why did you do it?
”
Her shrill voice echoed across the water between them.
His gaze landed on the bundle in her arms.
Smite me!
Which of course was the lady
’
s intent.
“
Why are you carrying my clothing?
”
he countered.
Annabella looked down at her burden, and her mouth lifted in an unpleasant smile. Slowly she began to loosen her grip, obviously determined to toss his garments into the pond with him.
“
Annie?
”
Jon sloshed for the shore, keeping his eyes on his belongings, silently willing her not to throw them into the pond.
“
Annie…
”
Annabella
’
s eyes widened and she stepped back.
“
Don
’
t you dare come any closer. Why, you
’
re — you
’
re positively indecent!
”
Jon stopped moving and held up his hands.
“
Annie, if you leave my things on the bank and move a little ways off, I
’
ll make myself presentable and we can talk this out.
”
“
We have nothing —
noth-ing
— to talk out, you — you atrocious, appalling, barbarous blackguard! You—
”
She clamped her mouth shut, her whole body trembling.
Well, her opinion of him certainly hadn
’
t improved. When she fell into silence, Jon raised an eyebrow.
“
Do go on, lady fair. Don
’
t let words fail you now.
”
He eased forward a half step. The breeze gusted, sending a shiver crawling across his bare skin.
Or perhaps
the chill arose
from the glare
she raked over
him. Half angry and half… hungry.
“
Just tell me why!
”
She kicked out with her foot, sending globules of dark mud flying in his direction.
Jon flinched to the right to avoid the worse of it. One particularly large brown blob struck his left arm and clung until he swished it off in the water.
“
Were you so desperate for a woman
’
s affections you would take advantage of — of —
me
when — when— Oh!
”
She stomped one foot, nearly losing her balance on the slippe
ry ground.
Jon took another cautious step forward. He didn
’
t much relish fishing his clothing from the pond and wearing wet garments for the walk back to the cottage.
“
Annie… what do you suppose happened last night?
”
Another slow step.
“
Do you truly believe
that
I
—
”
“
I know what happened, you insufferable, rutting, ruinous devil
’
s spawn.
”
Jon sighed.
Yes, she truly believes I—
His shirt seemed to take flight, making it halfway between them before it unfurled like a frigate
’
s white sail, hovered, and then softly drifted downward. Jon lunged forward, lost his footing on the pond
’
s slippery bottom, and fell headlong into the water. When he pushed to his feet, he shook the water from his hair. His shirt floated in front of him like an apparition, fast taking on water and submerging, one sleeve reaching for him with ghostly desperation. But he was several feet closer to the shore. He plucked the garment from the water with a grimace. When he got hold of her, he might just—
He tamped back his anger and tried a different tactic.
“
Anna— Annie, please, let
’
s have a conversation about this. I— You have the wro— No!
”
His coat followed the shirt. The brown tweed, lacking the grace of the cambric, simply struck the water with a soggy plop. Reaching for it gained him another two steps.
“
You
will
leave Rose Cottage,
”
she shrieked.
“
It
’
s mine. You don
’
t belong there.
”
“
Don
’
t be ridiculous! I
’
m an invited guest. Where would I go?
”
“
I. Do not.
Care
.
”
His trousers came next, but one of the side buttons caught on her fingers. She
shook her hand and the trousers dropped in the mud at the water
’
s edge.
“
When I tell my — the — duke about your dreadful behavior…
”
It was an empty threat. He saw it even as she spoke it.
“
Yes… why don
’
t we just send a missive off to his grace?
”
Her jaw went slack and her face paled. For a moment he wondered if she would collapse in a heap at the edge of the water. He shuffled another step closer. But she drew herself up straight with a deep breath. Then she glared at him through squinting eyes. With deliberate motions, she held up one of his boots.
“
Annie… please. Just listen to me—
”
Jon tried not to cringe outwardly. The water wouldn
’
t be kind to the leather. The boot sailed in a marvelous curve through the air. Her flawless aim was filled with deadly intent, and the boot splashed into the water mere inches in front of him. He raised a hand to wipe away some of the droplets from his face.
She raised the other boot, ready to fling it at him as well.
Her left foot slipped sideways on the muddy, moss-covered bank. She dropped the boot as she struggled to keep her footing. But when her other foot slipped backward, she was lost.
He ruddy well should have left her to fall. But that blasted tendency of his to rescue distressed damsels propelled him forward with his arms outstretched. He plunged closer to the bank and rose from the water just as Annabella pitched face first toward him.
She slammed into him, knocking the breath from his lungs. Thankfully, she landed mostly in his arms, partly draped over his shoulder. The bottom of her gown trailed in the water — that wasn
’
t to be avoided. At least the lady remained largely dry.