Love's Guardian (12 page)
“Stop acting like a child. You’re going to come out in the next two minutes or suffer the consequences.”
“Just what might those be?” She hated to admit her toes were getting numb.
Declan sat down on a rock and started to remove his boots.
“What are you doing?”
“Coming in after you. I can’t very well do that with my boots on now, can I?” Declan finished with his boots and removed his jacket.
“You wouldn’t!”
“Wouldn’t I?” He started to undo the buttons on his waistcoat.
He was bluffing. The water was cold. Now that her body wasn’t so heated, she realized
how cold
. Was she more afraid of her humiliation or Declan’s anger?
He removed his shirt. Suddenly the cold didn’t matter. As a child she’d often seen him naked to the waist, but he hadn’t been so...developed...had he?
In spite of all the water, her mouth went dry. She had to swallow, then remind herself to breathe.
His shoulders were broad and well muscled, as was the rest of his torso. Fine dark hair covered his upper chest and tapered downward.
Her eyes followed the line to where Declan was starting to unbutton the flap on his breeches.
She should stop this and come out of the water. But she felt an overwhelming desire to see him as nature intended. This memory of how he looked, naked at the edge of her lake, would have to last a lifetime.
Declan hesitated, forcing her to look up. “Are you coming out?”
“No.” Even from her position, she could see his raised eyebrow.
The cramp hit without warning. She doubled up, tried to straighten, then tried to kick her legs. It was pointless. Nothing worked. Terror engulfed her as she began to sink, the surface a light blur she desperately needed to reach.
Her lungs were bursting. She tried clawing her way upward. God, she didn’t want to die like this. She had to breathe. Unable to fight back, she felt herself being drawn toward the bottom.
Declan.
His name still clung to her lips when the lure of the warm, soothing darkness overcame her struggles.
The ice cold water took his breath away. Declan dived deep, praying this was the spot he’d seen Alex go down. The murky lake allowed for visibility of no more than two feet in each direction.
He stayed down as long as he could. At the last moment, he shot upward, filled his lungs with air, then plunged again.
On the third time, he found her. She floated about ten feet below the surface. Drawing near, he could see small bubbles escaping from her mouth. Her glorious hair did a mesmerizing dance around her face.
He grabbed her waist with both hands, thanking God she wasn’t wearing any sodden clothing that would have forced her to the bottom. Straining every muscle, he swam upward toward air and light.
When their heads cleared the water, Declan drew in a quick breath, then faced her. He cleared the water out of her mouth and kept her head above water as he towed her to the shore.
She hadn’t moved. The fear that he might be too late gnawed at his gut. With the last of his strength, he put her facedown onto a sun-warmed rock. He turned her head to the side, then rhythmically pressed down on her back, mimicking the motions he’d seen Paddy use on a sailor who’d been fished from the ocean.
That man had died.
Declan prayed long and hard for one of the few times in his life. Making all kinds of promises he wasn’t sure he could keep, if God allowed Alex to live.
After what seemed like an eternity, water spurted out of her mouth. She drew in several ragged breaths and started to cough.
He turned her over, cradling her head in his arms. She opened her eyes and tried to speak, her voice low and raspy. He had to lean close to hear what she said.
“You’re wet.”
“So are you.” He gave her a weak smile, trying not to look at her naked body, but his peripheral vision still allowed him a titillating view of her creamy breasts with their puckered nipples. In spite of the cold, his manhood hardened.
“Thank you,” Alex whispered. Then her eyes fluttered closed.
She was alive, but they’d both be in big trouble if they couldn’t get warm and dry. He grabbed his shirt and settled it over her head. It went to her knees, but he didn’t think her silk clothing would offer much warmth or modesty if her moist skin plastered it to her womanly curves.
Knight came at his whistle, and he jerked a leather satchel from the saddle. He stuffed Alex’s clothing inside and slipped his jacket on over his wet breeches, then stepped into his boots. With care, he lifted Alex in his arms.
His horse seemed to sense the urgency and stood still as he maneuvered her inert form onto the saddle. With difficulty, he climbed up behind her, then huddled her shivering form against his naked chest. The top of her damp head rested under his chin. He wrapped his coat as far as it would reach around them both, then urged Knight to a gallop toward the manor.
Why hadn’t he turned around, or left when he found her?
He’d told himself their little game was a good way to teach her a lesson, but to be honest, it had been an excuse. He’d wanted to see her naked. That’s why he’d insisted she come out.
He was supposed to be concerned with her safety, not acting like a randy young man watching through the keyhole to get a glimpse of a naked woman.
Alex shouldn’t have been swimming at all. Why couldn’t she ever do the expected? One moment she’d been taunting him. The next, she’d disappeared from sight.
He hadn’t seen any sign of injury. Hopefully she just suffered from the cold. Had she been in the water long? She should have known better than to swim this early in the season.
John peered out of the stable as they galloped into the mews. Declan gave him Knight’s reins and asked him to send someone for the doctor and to retrieve Blade. Carrying Alex’s slight form, he strode toward the manor, up the steps, and into the hallway.
Morgan saw them first.
“What the...” He rushed over and tried to take Alex from him.
“No. I can carry her. Get Eleanor. Ask Edgar to have the staff bring extra blankets and a warm bath to her room.” Declan took the stairs two at a time, rushing past Richards to get to Alex's room.
The valet wore an appalled expression. Declan guessed it had more to do with the state of his clothing than with the shivering girl in his arms. Richards scurried ahead to open the door. “My lord, what happened?”
“A small accident.” Declan laid Alex down on the bed. “Help me get this damp shirt off her.”
“This is your shirt, my lord. Her hair’s soaked it through.” Richards appeared to be on the verge of tears. “It’s ruined. What was she doing in your shirt?”
“She needed it.” For modesty’s sake Declan wrapped a blanket around Alex’s body, while Richards tugged the shirt over her head.
Declan laid her back on the pillow and started rubbing her limbs to try and bring warmth back into them. He could hear her teeth chattering in spite of his efforts.
Eleanor burst into the room, followed by servants laden with blankets.
“What happened? Lord Morgan said there’d been an accident.” Eleanor rushed over to Alex’s bed.
“Alex nearly drowned.”
“How?”
“Swimming.”
“She was
swimming?
” Eleanor shook her head in resignation. “Where?”
“In the lake, just past the south meadow. I’m not sure what happened. It may have been the cold water.”
“Get more blankets on her. Where’s the tub?” Two male servants came in bearing a large, wooden bathtub. “I need hot water up here, now.” Eleanor turned toward Declan. “You need to get out of those wet clothes.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. I’ll take care of Alex.” Eleanor turned to Richards. “Make sure Lord Worthington gets into some dry clothes.”
He gave up. He’d underestimated Eleanor; she could be just as stubborn as Alex. “I’ll go, but I want to know the minute the doctor arrives.”
“I’ll send word.” Eleanor turned back to her patient and wrapped a dry towel around her head. He took one more look at Alex’s shivering form and left the room.
“Don’t be blaming yourself. She’d have drowned if you’d not been there.” Morgan poured another brandy, then sat in the wingback chair opposite his friend.
“I wasn’t a gentleman, Morgan.” Declan ran a hand through the hair on his forehead. “I knew she wouldn’t come out with me there, yet I persisted. I even threatened to come in after her.”
“And so you did.” Morgan leaned forward and raised his glass in Declan’s direction. “To my way of thinking, you’re a hero.”
Declan started to protest, but Morgan stopped him. “She was swimming before you got there. In water that cold, the doctor pointed out the cramp could have happened at any time. She might have been alone when it hit. Then you’d not be forgiving yourself for her death.” Morgan shook his head, his voice cajoling. “The doctor told you she’d be fine.”
Declan stuck his booted feet toward the fire and swirled the brandy in his snifter. His life used to be simple. He knew what he wanted, and what he had to do. Alex made chaos of everything. He closed his eyes and sat back.
Morgan broke the silence. “The Countess of Lochsdale is a bit spirited. Beautiful, too.”
Declan opened his eyes to find a contemplative look on his friend’s face.
Morgan took a large swallow of his brandy. “A man would be looking a long time to find another like her. Perhaps I should be courting her myself.”
“No.” Declan thought he saw a grin on Morgan’s face before he turned to the fire.
“Ah well, I see you’ll be wanting some fancy husband for her. Have you any idea who?” He turned back to Declan, his expression serious. “I think it should be a very determined man. Alex will take a bit o’ training, but she’d be worth it.”
“I don’t care who Alex marries.” Declan stood up and went to lean against the fireplace, then studied the flames. “Her grandfather trusted me to do right by her, and I shall. Marriage is the only answer.” He turned to look at Morgan. “You’ve been acquainted with her inside a week. Do you think I could leave her to her own devices?”
“Sure as Ireland’s green, she’d find herself in trouble. She’s not afraid of much.” He chuckled. “And, she certainly worked her magic on Catrina. Throws a knife at her one day and gets her to help with finding a husband the next. By the way, I think you should be commending the butler.”
“Edgar?”
“Couldn’t get over how he handled the knife incident.” Morgan shook his head. “The man’s not human. He calmly removed the blade from the wall and went back to carving the roast.”
“Edgar’s been with the family a number of years. I doubt Lady Lochsdale could do anything to surprise him.”
“Where might she be learning to throw like that?”
Declan went over and poured himself another drink. “She lived onboard a trading vessel until she was twelve. The sailors thought it prudent to teach her how to defend herself.”
“That she can. Did you know her then?”
“I brought her home to her grandfather.” Declan sat back down and crossed his legs at the ankles.
“She’s a special colleen. How do you think she’ll fare in London?”
“We have to get her there first. It’s a wonder she’s survived till now.”
“Did the doctor say she could travel?”
“Yes, but I still want to delay our trip by a day. Just in case she develops a fever. We both know what that could mean.” Their eyes met, and Declan knew Morgan understood. On the battlefield, it often wasn’t the wound that killed.
“That won’t be sitting well with Lady Catrina. I think she might be getting a bit restless.”
“She’ll have to wait.”
Morgan studied him intently. “I thought you might be developing an attachment for Lady Catrina.” His brow furrowed. “Though after spending the last week with her, I see why that might not be appealing. Spoiled females are a bit of a trial.”
“If I had my way, I wouldn’t marry at all.” Declan leaned over and poured the last few drops of his drink on the fire, listening to it hiss. “I need an heir, and Catrina would be as good a wife as any.”
“Why her?”
“I could never love her.”
Morgan’s eyebrows raised. “You’d not be wanting to love your wife?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Have you told Alex you intend to marry Catrina?”
“I mentioned it.”
“And?”
“She seemed upset. I have no idea why.” Declan stood and rubbed the back of his neck. “I can never tell what she’s thinking or what she’ll do. One thing I am sure of. She needs a husband.”
“Do you think she’ll be finding a suitable match in London?”
“Let’s hope so.” Because God knew he couldn’t take much more.
Everything hurt. Alex tentatively opened her eyes, only to shut them against the light streaming through her bedroom window.
She tried to take a deep breath, and discovered breathing had become a luxury. What had happened? She’d been at the lake with Declan, then her memory blurred into fragmented glimpses of pain and endless water.
One thing for certain. If it hadn’t been for Declan, she would have drowned.