The Earl's Enticement (Castle Bride Series) (20 page)

“
Du Gott verdammten hund
!” He tossed the terrified dog over the side of the skiff.

“No!” Adaira jumped to her feet. “How could you, you despicable piece of sh—”

Tearing at her bonnet’s ribbons and kicking off her shoes, she jumped into the water. The last thing she heard before sinking beneath the surface was a chorus of voices.

“
Dumme kuh
,” Freidrick sneered.

Seonaid gasped, “Addy!” as Isobel cried, “Adaira, dear God!”

“Silly chit.”

“
Das
fräulein
will drown.”

“Don’t worry. She’s a strong swimmer,” Dugall assured Mrs. Winthrop and the count.

“Not surprised, no indeed,” Flynn said, humor ringing in his voice.

And, lastly, Roark’s enraged, “Hell and the devil.”

CHAPTER 21

Well, Adaira had her wish. She’d cooled off, quite nicely at that.

Panting for breath and clutching the shaking puppy in her arms, she sloshed the last few feet to shore. Her soaked gown impeded her trudging progress. She stopped just short of the beach. Many of the pins were gone from her hair. It flopped onto one shoulder. What wasn’t pasted across her face, that is.

Thank God she was an experienced swimmer, and the boats had been less than seventy feet offshore. The weight of her wet gown and under garments had been far greater than she’d expected. With the pup clutched to one shoulder, she’d fought to kick her legs and swim forward with her free arm. Twice, she’d turned onto her back to catch her breath.

Brushing a hand across her breastbone, her breath caught. Her necklace. Where was it? She grasped her neck. Finding the chain, she tugged the cross loose from her tangled hair. Her breath left her in a whoosh.

Peeking between the streaming tresses plastered to her face, she saw her parents bolting along the path. Naturally, the rest of the party charged along in their wake, no doubt buzzing conjecture. The
ton’s
denizens were worse than vultures on carrion. She’d given the gossips enough fodder to fuel their fires all winter, bother it all.

Adaira pursed her lips to still her chattering teeth and in belated compunction. So much for not making a spectacle of herself. Sucking in a ragged breath, she glanced down and froze. The dress clung to her like a second skin. Her nipples, pebble hard, protruded through the thin material.

Tucking the shivering puppy under one arm, she plucked at the filmy fabric. Drat. Sodden, the cloth immediately hugged her once more.

Oh, she’d done it up brown this time. She might as well be naked. Never mind the peeresses in London often dampened their gowns to make them cling to their curves. If it weren’t for her stays and chemise, there’d be no need for anyone to imagine what lay beneath her gown. She shuddered. The count was most probably staring at her bum this very minute.

Still, what was Adaira to do? She couldn’t let the puppy drown. She shoved wet hair out of her eyes, then snuggled Irmgard against her chest. At least she could hide her breasts that way. By all that was holy, she wouldn’t apologize for jumping into the lake. Hurt as she was, the pup mightn’t have made it to shore. She was a tiny dachshund too, likely just weaned.

That
bastart
had hurt Irmgard’s back leg. The poor dear had a small gash on her side from where she’d hit the boat when the churl tossed her overboard. What other abuse had the dog endured at his hands?

Hot rage surged through Adaira. Just wait until that spawn of Satan was ashore. She’d—

Blast, her riding crop would come in handy right now. If she were a man, she’d call him out. She whipped around at the loud splash behind her. Lord Clarendon tromped through the water, pulling his boat the last few feet to land.

His boots are ruined.

He’d an expression she’d never seen on his face before. The sun glared behind him, haloing him in ethereal light like an avenging god. She ducked her head, hiding her face against the pup. She wasn’t up to his chastisement. Not yet. She closed her eyes, sending up a silent prayer.

Please don’t let him admonish me in front of everyone.

Cautiously opening one eye, she dared a peek at the count. The bounder was ogling her, lust glimmering in his gaze. Mrs. Winthrop, a vise-like grip on her bench, sat pale but composed. There was a strained look about her mouth, as if she struggled to hold her tongue. No warmth or pity shone in her round eyes.

She visually inspected Adaira toe to top. No, gloating satisfaction better described the look on the widow’s face.

Unbuttoning his coat, Lord Clarendon slogged toward Adaira. His perusal traveled from the top of her dripping head, to her feet still in the lapping water. The chiseled angles of his face settled into hard lines. His mouth was pressed into a frown. His eyes blazed, but not with anger.

She felt naked beneath his scorching stare. With an odd pang under her ribs, her heart sank to her soggy stockings. She’d disappointed him . . . again.

“I’m sorry.” And she truly was. She’d meant to show him she could be a lady. That she was every bit as refined as the
tonnish
damsels
w
hose company he typically kept. Why it mattered she couldn’t say. It just did. And it shouldn’t, drat it all. “I only meant to. . .”

“Hush, Adaira.”

He shrugged out of his coat, his signet ring boldly gleaming against his tanned hand. Where were his gloves? His hat?

And what was he doing?

He wrapped the jacket around her shoulders. After tugging it closed in front, he secured a button across her arms as she cuddled Irmgard.

Oh, how thoughtful.

She whispered, “Thank you. I am awfully sorry. I. . .”

He gave an almost indiscernible shake of his head, while perusing the gathering crowd through hooded eyes. “Not now.”

Daring to meet his lordship’s gaze, she swallowed a gulp of air. Expecting anger, she was taken aback at the gentleness in his eyes. His gaze lingered on her mouth almost as if he wanted to kiss her. A different kind of warmth swept her, causing her pulse to thunder.

The other boats docked. Her family scrambled out of their vessels. Dugall planted his foot on the craft he vacated. He gave the bow a mighty shove. Freidrick toppled onto his bum, legs waving in the air. Her brother and sisters rushed across the dock, joining her parents. Worry and concern etched their faces, but none bore censure.

His lordship gestured to the footmen with two fingers. “Thom, Oscar, please come assist Count von Schnitzer and Mrs. Winthrop from their boat.”

The footmen hurried to do his bidding, leaving an infuriated Freidrick to fend for himself—by deliberate design, Adaira would bet.

She bit back a laugh as the brattling tried to step from the boat, only to fall backwards into it again, cursing and flailing. He finally angled a knee onto the dock, and in an undignified manner, crawled from the craft.

Served him right, God rot the cur.

“Addy, come, get out of the water.” Mother hovered on the shore, holding Adaira’s shawl.

“Here, let me have the puppy. You’ve a hard enough time of it with your soaked gown.” Lord Clarendon plucked the pup from the folds of his cutaway coat.

He angled his head in the direction of her parents. “Go on. Don’t speak of this to anyone other than your parents until I can tell the tale. I’ll put everything to right.”

She blinked at him. “How?” Casting a wary glance at the titillated onlookers, she lowered her voice and said, “I’ve made a merry mess of it.”

“Leave that to me.”

“And me,” Flynn interjected.

The men’s gazes meshed, and a silent communication passed between them.

Adaira searched Lord Clarendon’s eyes. “I couldn’t let her drown.”

She squared her shoulders and jutted her chin out. “I couldn’t, Roark. I had to jump in after her.”

His smile was tender as he pushed still dripping locks off her cheek. “If you hadn’t, I would have.”

The most proper Lord Clarendon jumping into the lake fully clothed?
Scandalous.

Adaira stared at him, slack-jawed. “You would? Really?”

“Indeed.” He winked at her “You’re a hero. Now, go along.”

He slanted his head at the shore once more, a lock of chestnut hair falling forward rakishly. The scar on his forehead peeked out between the silky strands. Was his hair as soft as it looked? She’d the oddest urge to touch it and find out.

“You’re staring.” His lordship’s voice was low and gravely.

Drat, she was. She dropped her gaze to the pup he cradled. She’d no doubt, rouged cheeks glowed no brighter than hers at the moment.

Lord Clarendon bent his head to her ear. “I rather liked it.”

A delicious bubble of happiness encompassed her. She grinned at him.

“Here, let me help you.” Flynn waded to where she stood and wrapped one arm around her shoulders, while steadying her with his other at her elbow.

Another pair of boots ruined.

Dash it all, but she was troublesome.

“With Flynn helping me, I can manage the pup, my lord,” Adaira said softly.

The earl rubbed the dog’s head and earned a lick on his hand. He passed Irmgard back to Adaira.

Once ashore, she was immediately surrounded by her family. Mother wrapped Adaira’s shawl around her front, holding it closed at the nape of her neck. Lord Clarendon’s cutaway coat, although it hung past her knees, did little to cover the front of her from the waist down.

Freidrick stomped over to her. Lowering his chin, he demanded, “Give me
das hund
.”

Adaira straightened her spine, hugging the puppy tighter.

“No.”

She scanned the faces around her. None held judgment or reproach. “You don’t deserve this precious animal. She would have died if I hadn’t saved her. Name your price. I’ll buy her from you.”

“Excellent. If you weren’t going to, I was.” Roark sent Freidrick a fierce scowl. “There’s no way I’ll allow an abusive sot like you to leave here with that pitiable animal.”

He pointed at the pup, then sent Adaira a reassuring smile before wading back to his boat. She cast a pleading glance to her father.

“Please. You cannot let Freidrick have her.”

Father’s gaze warmed, and he nodded. “How much do ye want for the
cuilean
?”

Seeing the confusion on Freidrick’s face, Father repeated, “Name yer price for the pup. I’ll not have ye saying we stole the dog from ye.”

He leveled Freidrick with a contemptuous glare.

Freidrick’s response was masked by a shriek behind Adaira. She turned, clutching Irmgard. Lord Clarendon carried Mrs. Winthrop to shore. Her arms were clasped around his neck, and her head was pressed against his chest. She met Adaira’s gaze, a triumphant smile on her painted mouth.

Adaira hid a smirk in Irmgard’s doggy smelling coat. My but the earl was strong. He toted Mrs. Winthrop like she was a toddler. No easy task given the woman’s
full
figure.

A rider galloped into the picnic area. A man Adaira didn’t recognize leaped from his horse and scanned the grove. He handed the reins over to a servant who pointed in the crowd’s direction.

What now? More histrionics? Perfect.

Maybe it would serve to divert some unwanted attention from Adaira.

The newcomer strode purposefully to the lake. He was handsome in a severe sort of way. He made directly for Lord Clarendon, barely sparing Mrs. Winthrop a glance, although his attention lingered on Isobel for a moment.

“Clarendon, I’ve urgent news.”

“Yancy, I thought you weren’t arriving until later in the week.” Lord Clarendon lowered Mrs. Winthrop to her feet. She leaned against him as if too weak to stand on her own.

Adaira rolled her eyes skyward. One would think from the woman’s theatrics, she’d been the one to dive into the lake to save the puppy.

The earl smiled at his guests. “It’s time we head back to the mansion to rest before the evenings activities. Please make your way to the carriages.”

He glanced at the woman clinging to him. “Mrs. Winthrop, I must speak with Lord Ramsbury. Count von Schnitzer, may I impose upon you to escort your cousin to her barouche?”

“Certainly.” His lecherous regard never leaving Adaira, the count extended his elbow to his cousin.

Adaira averted her gaze. The man was a rude cawker.

Mrs. Winthrop reluctantly released the earl’s arm and took up the count’s instead. She touched Lord Clarendon’s shoulder. “Will you accompany me in my carriage on the return, my lord?”

His gaze traveled over Adaira. “Yes, perhaps that would be best. Lady Ferguson, Sir Hugh, do feel free to avail yourselves of my landau. Miss Ferguson should make for Cadbury straightaway and have a hot bath, lest she catch a chill.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Mother smiled her gratitude.

“Here, let me have the puppy, so you can hold the shawl yourself.” Seonaid took Irmgard, and nuzzled her neck. She followed the others to the carriages.

“Let’s do hurry, Adaira. I don’t wish for you to fall ill at the beginning of our visit.” Mother started up the gentle sloping embankment, accompanied by the rest of the family.

“Yes, Mother.” Clutching the shawl, Adaira half-turned to thank Lord Clarendon once more.

Lord Ramsbury stepped nearer to the earl and lowered his voice. “He’s free, Clarendon. Edgar’s been set free.