Lady Flora's Fantasy (2 page)

All so dull, when what I really want...

She pondered a moment, and then she knew. What she wanted was to find her own place in the world. Not with her parents, much as she loved them, but to strike out on her own, do whatever she wanted to do. Impossible, of course. Young ladies should never even think of such things. Only in her dreams could she ever escape, but dreams were silly. Pirate, indeed
. How could she waste her time on such nonsense? Surely, no one else did. How people would laugh if they knew she dreamed of being ravished by a pirate.

What is wrong with me?

Lady Boles was right about too much saline immersion. Depression and languor truly had set in.
I'm such a fool
. Flora laughed aloud at herself.

"What did you say?" called Amy who floated languidly nearby.

"I said..." Flora's humor returned. Nothing should spoil this beautiful day. Feeling the weight of her unwieldy bathing costume, she answered, "I was thinking how silly this bathing costume is and how I'd like to strip my clothes off and drift naked in this lovely water."

Amy feigned a look of shock. "Better not let Mama hear you say that, or this will be your first and last bath." An ebbing wave lifted Flora and caused her to float away. "Watch out, sister," Amy called playfully, "or you'll be swept out to sea."

"Indeed, she might, Miss," a male voice boomed from the shore. "You had best attach a rope to her, Mrs. Duffy."

Chapter
2

Startled, Flora swirled around in the water and looked toward shore. There stood two men in bathing costumes. One she hardly noticed. But the other? He was tall, with hair the color of burnished gold. He had broad, square shoulders, a slender waist, and powerful legs. At least from a distance he was quite the most handsome man she had ever seen.

But this was the lady’s section of the beach. The two men were most definitely in forbidden territory.

Frowning, Mrs. Duffy peered around the corner of the wagon. When she saw who it was, her sour mouth lifted in a smile. "Why, Lord Dashwood, what are you doing here? Should 'a known 'twould be you. You know the rules, you naughty boy."

With a laugh that revealed dazzling white teeth, the golden haired man bent in an exaggerated bow. "How lovely to see you again, Mrs. Duffy. Rules are meant to be broken, do you not agree?" He glanced toward Flora and Amy. "And who are these beautiful young ladies?"

"You're much too bold, sir," Mrs. Duffy playfully replied. "My ladies are interested in their bath, not you, so you and your friend had best leave." She gazed at the other man, who was tall, dark, and also well-built. "Lord Lynd, I am surprised at you."

If the dark-haired man gave a reply, Flora didn't hear. Her eyes were fixed upon Lord Dashwood. From a distance she couldn't judge the fine points of his features, or tell whether his eyes were brown or blue. Still, she admired the confident way he was standing, bare feet dug into the sand, legs apart, hands on hips, powerful chest thrust out, chin tilted at a teasing angle. She also liked the rather daring attire he was wearing. In town she was accustomed to seeing men completely clothed in their London tailoring, nothing like the simple shirt and bathing pants that Dashwood wore. She could tell he'd recently been bathing, and the ocean wetness had given his clothes a daring look.

Oh, my.

Surely from this distance he could not see the direction of her gaze, but she quickly raised her eyes, noting how, despite the coldness of the water, she had felt a definite twinge of interest running through her.

"Oh, come now, Mrs. Duffy," Lord Dashwood called again, "I must have the names of these lovely sea goddesses."

"And why is that, sir?" called Flora. She was never shy.

"So that I might carry one of you off to Neptune's pearly chambers," came Dashwood's reply. He spread his arms wide and recited,
"I sing of beautiful Aphrodite of Cyprus and the sea, where the force of Zephyr breath carried her along on waves of the resounding sea and soft foam."

Flora lifted her hands above her head to applaud. "Bravo, sir
. You are paraphrasing the Second Homeric Hymn from the seventh century B.C., are you not?"

Dashwood replied with a grin and another exaggerated bow.

Flora was about to speak again when suddenly the surf receded, unbalancing both Amy and herself. They had been standing in water up to their necks; now it swirled around their knees.

"Ah, my two golden mermaids have emerged from the depths," Lord Dashwood remarked with delight. His companion said something Flora could not hear and started away. "Oh, all right, Lynd," Dashwood called after his friend. He looked back to the girls. "My friend says I'm making an ass of myself, but how could I resist such a charming sight?"

Lady Rensley called, "Flora, Amy, get back to the bathing machine this instant."

Mrs. Duffy declared, "Time to get out of the water, ladies."

Flora protested, as did Amy, but the old woman was adamant. "Twenty minutes is more than enough for your first time."

As Flora and Amy climbed back up the ladder, Mrs. Duffy's gaze swung to Lord Dashwood, who still stood watching on the beach. "Off with you now
. If you want to meet the young ladies you had best attend the ball tonight."

"Indeed I shall," he called, flashing his charming smile before he turned and started away, hastening to catch up to his friend.

Back inside the bathing machine, as Mrs. Duffy toweled them both with vigor, Flora asked, "What ball is that, Mrs. Duffy?"

"The ball that everyone who is anyone attends
. Especially whatever nobility 'appens to be in town, such as Lord Dashwood and his friend, Lord Lynd."

"I cannot understand why you were so nice to them, Mrs. Duffy." Lady Rensley looked down her nose at the Queen of Dippers with disdain. "They were rude and not dressed properly. I am flabbergasted you'd even speak to them."

Mrs. Duffy appeared unfazed. "Rude or not, 'e's Richard Prescott, Viscount Dashwood. 'E don't have money of his own, but 'e's heir presumptive to the estate of Charles Fraser, Earl of Dinsmore. Only a distant cousin, I believe, but his lordship has no sons."

Lady Rensley look impressed. "You mean Lord Dinsmore, the Hero of Seedaseer?"

"The very same," answered Mrs. Duffy. "So Lord Dashwood ain't only handsome and titled, some day soon 'e's going to be filthy rich besides. So, m'lady, if I was you, I wouldn't be too picky about a fine catch like 'im bein' on the wrong section of the beach."

"Well!" Lady Rensley's mouth dropped open, but she quickly closed it and looked thoughtful. "So he'll be at the ball tonight...you are planning to go, were you not, Amy?"

"I suppose," Amy answered in her hesitant way. "Though I know I shall sit in a corner all evening and no one will ask me to dance."

"Nonsense." Lady Rensley looked toward her older daughter. "You, too, of course, although I note your enthusiasm for balls seems to have waned of late."

How true
, thought Flora.

As the wagon jolted back toward shore, Flora awkwardly changed from her bathing costume to her purple bathing dress, trimmed with green, and her green and white slippers that matched the dress. "I must say, Lord Dashwood is quite handsome," she murmured softly.

"Do you hear that, Mama?" said Amy. "Flora's actually interested in a man."

"Humph!" answered Lady Rensley, "I shall believe it when I see it. I have yet to see her even begin to lose her heart to a suitor."

But there is always a first time, Mama. Flora drifted into her princess-in-the-sea fantasy again, only this time the arrogant pirate with the cutlass at his waist had hair the color of burnished gold, dazzling white teeth, and a smile so captivating she didn't know how she could ever resist.

Back on shore, as they began their drive to their summer home, the Brighton Comet from London came rumbling past with a great jangling. Flora watched in awe and waved to the coachman who sat atop, whip held high over the four-horse team, bedecked in a white beaver hat and a box cloth coat with a posy in his button hole. "Wo-ho! So-ho!" he called as he passed by.

Flora watched in awe. Ah, to be a coachman on a highflyer. Nothing in the world could be more exciting...

Whip in hand, she sits at ease atop the crack flying machine as it rattles through the ill-paved streets and approaches the inn. The bugle plays a lively air as she turns into the courtyard. Slowing, with easy skill she undoes the buckle which keeps the ribbons together. The second the coach stops, she throws the ribbons off with a flourish. "Bravo
," calls Lord Dashwood, who happens to be standing in the courtyard. "You're as good as any man!" Oblivious to the applause and admiring stares of the crowd, she climbs down, keenly aware of admiring eyes upon her...

Oops.
Flora caught herself, inwardly amused she'd gone from princess-in-the-sea to dashing coachman...well, coachwoman...in but a twinkling.

Imagination was a wonderful thing. Not very practical though. Thank heavens no one could read her mind.

* * * *

Wait up, Sidney," Richard called as he hastened across the rocks and sand to where Sidney Bruxton, Lord Lynd, was fast retreating from the beach with purposeful strides. "Are you angry?" he asked as he drew parallel.

Sidney turned his head and drilled Richard with a look that was long, dark, and silent.

"But see here," Richard continued, "I was only flirting a bit, which is something you might try instead of being so damnably serious most of the time."

Sidney remained silent.

"Oh, very well, then. Since it appears I've upset you, I promise I shan't disturb the ladies while they're bathing. God forbid I should break one of society's silly rules."

Sidney gave a snort. "Do you honestly think I give a groat about the rules? I left because I didn't care to be a part of your fawning performance. It was painful, seeing you preen like a conceited rooster before two young ladies who could not have cared less."

"Not care?" Feigning puzzlement, Richard touched one well-manicured finger to a golden eyebrow, shook his head and grinned. "You know what a catch I am, Sidney. Despite my social faux pas, I'd wager both those chits will be at the ball tonight, dying to be introduced."

Sidney stopped and turned to face his friend, thick brows over wide-set brown eyes drawn together in disgust. "You have such conceit, Richard. I cannot imagine why I put up with you."

"Because we've been friends since childhood," Richard answered as they started walking again, his mouth curving into that charming, irresistible grin that Sidney knew so well. "And because I'm witty, entertaining, delightful to be with, and aside from all that, I saved your life."

Sidney rolled his eyes skyward. "Must I forever be reminded?"

"How quickly we forget
."

Of course
I have not forgotten
, Sidney thought glumly. The events of that long ago winter day were etched forever in his memory. He and Richard were eight when it happened. They had foolishly been crossing the thin ice of a pond in the woods when Sidney plunged into the freezing water. Young though he was, Richard had not gone screaming for help. He realized time was precious, so instead, with great presence of mind for a lad so young, he found a branch and crawled across the ice, shoving the branch ahead of him. Disregarding the great risk to his own life, he pushed the branch close enough so that Sidney could grab hold. Numb from the cold, about to lose consciousness and go down for the final time, Sidney was pulled to safety at the very last moment. "Do you need to be thanked again, Richard?" Sidney asked with feigned disgust.

"Don't be absurd," Richard answered cheerfully. "What did you think of them?"

"Think of who?"

"The girls of course—the sea nymphs. The shorter one appeared a bit drab, I thought, and a bit on the chubby side. But the other—the tall one with all that auburn hair—was quite pretty, don't you agree?"

"I didn't notice."

"Didn't notice?" Richard's azure blue eyes went wide with surprise. "You mean to say you didn't see the sweet curve of her hips, so deliciously revealed, I might add, by that clinging wet bathing costume she wore?"

"I said I didn't notice, Richard," Sidney cut in irritably. A lie, of course. Indeed, he had noticed. Not the shorter, who was unremarkable, but the taller one. She had immediately caught his attention. In fact, he could not remember the last time the sight of a woman had caused that jolt in the pit of his stomach that had not struck him since he was a randy teen. At the age of twenty-eight, he considered himself old and jaded; still, the sight of that long-limbed, auburn-haired beauty rising like Aphrodite from the sea, her gown wet and clinging to the luscious curves of her long, lithe body...

Sidney realized what he was thinking and chuckled to himself. Amazing, how the powerful allure of a beautiful woman's body could manifest itself at the most inopportune moments and unsettle a man. Ironic, too. Chances were his Aphrodite was a bubble-head, full of giggles, with nothing more weighty on her mind than finding a suitable husband.