To Win His Wayward Wife (8 page)

Chapter 9

“Absolutely not,” Madison shrieked, scrambling off the embankment they’d been sharing. “If you think after only a handful of conversations and one tender moment with you, I’m going to change my mind and strip naked in front of you, you’re daft.”

“I didn’t ask you to strip naked,” Benjamin countered, getting up to stand next to her. “You can wear your chemise.”

She turned her eyes up to the sky and let out an exaggerated sigh. “Yes, because that serves as an excellent covering,” she said sarcastically. “Once it gets wet it becomes transparent,” she further explained in a way a tutor would speak to his pupil.

“You’ll be under the water by then, so what will it matter?” he countered. For a woman who wanted to learn to swim she was sure full of complaints.

“And what will you be wearing?” she asked.

Nothing.
“My smalls,” he said smoothly. He watched her as she shifted from one foot to the other and made little clicking noises with her nails. “You’ve nothing to fear, I’m not going to do anything to you.”

She made eye contact with his chest. She was obviously struggling with whether or not to trust him.

“Madison,” he said softly, bending his knees so his head would be lower and he could look into eyes.

She smiled tentatively at his gesture. “It’s not you. I just have a hard time trusting men,” she said in a voice that was barely audible.

“You seem to trust Townson just fine.” His tone held more bitterness than he intended.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just don’t know you.”

“And how do you propose to get to know me if you refuse to do anything but put your feet in the water next to mine and sit next to me from time to time?” he asked, agitated. Why could she trust Townson but not him? He wasn’t even nearly as scary looking as Townson. That man was built like a Clydesdale.

“You’re right,” she conceded. “I’ll remove my gown.”

Benjamin grinned at her. “Do you need any help?”

“No. I’ll just go behind the bushes if you don’t mind.”

He did mind, but he wasn’t going to say anything. If it made her feel better to go behind a few paltry plants in order to remove her gown, then so be it. “All right. I’ll get in the water and wait for you.”

It took him less than fifteen seconds to be stripped to his smalls and in the water. The water, which was blessedly cool, helped cool his ardor. It wouldn’t do for her to get too close to him and feel his reaction to her.

Timidly, she walked toward him wearing her chemise. Suddenly he didn’t think the water was cool enough. Her chemise hung loosely on her shoulders by two thin strips of lacy edged fabric. The front had a low swoop, offering him a generous view of the tops of her breasts. He was expecting it to fall around or below her knees, but instead it only came to mid-thigh, exposing the creamy curves of her legs. She crossed her arms nervously under her breasts and fidgeted while he swept her with his eyes.

Catching sight that he was causing her undue discomfort, he murmured a quick apology then said, “You have two choices. You can walk over there and come in down that muddy slope over there,” he pointed about thirty yards away to where a muddied rocky slope led to the water, “or you can jump in from there.”

“Jump in?” she gasped. “Have you forgotten I don’t know how to swim? I can’t just jump in.”

“Sure you can. I’ll catch you,” he said with a grin. “Just jump right here,” he pointed to the water in front of him, “and I’ll catch you.” He opened his arms wide and waited for her.

She hesitated only for a second before walking to the edge and with a small noise of excitement, jumped off straight into his waiting arms.

“Good job,” he said with a smile. He slowly lowered her the rest of the way into the water until her feet were on the rocks. “It’s rather deep right here. Let’s move down a bit where it won’t be so deep.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I don’t like how deep it is, either. Last time I was in here, I thought I might drown.”

“I thought you said, you hadn’t been swimming before,” Benjamin said, carrying her to a shallower spot.

“I haven’t,” she admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t accidentally found myself into the water. With how clear it is, I believed the water to be shallower than it was and before I knew it, I was in up to my neck because I wanted to put my feet on the rocks.”

“Were you alone?” he asked, setting her down in a place that was no deeper than her waist.

“Yes,” she said, nodding.

He didn’t like the sound of that. She could have easily drowned and nobody known it. “In that case, I’m not letting you out of this water until I’m satisfied with your swimming skills.”

She shot him a laughing smile. “We might die here, you know.”

“Nonsense,” he said, returning her smile. “And if it does take you that long for you to learn to swim, I’ll die a happy man.”

She looked at him curiously. “And why is that?”

“Because I’ll die with you,” he answered, not caring he sounded like a lovesick imbecile.

“And you claimed Andrew was the one led around by his genitals,” she teased.

“I didn’t say that to get you to lift your skirt,” he said slowly. “You’re my wife. I like being around you. Is it so wrong for me to enjoy your company?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I rather enjoy yours just now, too.”

He grinned. It positively thrilled him that she would even dare to admit to enjoying his company. “All right. Let’s swim. First thing, lie down on your back.” He moved to the side of her and with one arm wrapped around her shoulders, he pulled her backwards toward the water. “You’re all right. I’ve got you. Both my arms are under you, you’re not going to sink. Just relax. Now, we need to see if you sink or float.”

“You just said you wouldn’t let me sink,” she panicked, trying desperately to put her feet back on the bottom.

“Hold still,” he commanded gently as he held her firmly so she couldn’t get up. “I’m not going to let you drown, Madison. Trust me. Please.” He looked into her eyes to let her see he meant his words. “I’m just going to relax my hold on you a little and see if your body stays floating on top of the water, or if you start to go under. Most stay on top, but some are sinkers. If you are, you’ll have to work a little harder when you swim.”

“Great,” she muttered, “with my luck, I’ll sink like a bag of bricks.”

He chuckled. “Are you ready?”

She nodded and clenched her hands into fists.

“You’ll be all right. Just relax. Look up at the sky and study the clouds. What do you see?” he said soothingly as he relaxed his hold on her.

“Oh, please,” she said with an abrupt laugh. “I’m not eight. I don’t study clouds in hopes of seeing bunnies and turtles.”

“And why not?” he demanded in mock indignation. “I do that and I’m not eight.”

She laughed. “You do not. You’re just saying that. No grown man goes around staring at clouds to figure out what they look like.”

“I do,” he said solemnly. He looked up in the sky and scanned the clouds real quick. “That one over on the far right looks like a cat. Oh, and that one, on the left by where those trees are visible, that looks exactly like a side profile of Prinny.”

“Oh, stop it,” she said laughingly. “It does not. Prinny isn’t that thin.”

“No, he’s not, is he,” Benjamin mused.

“Not by half. The last time I saw him, he looked like a hippopotamus,” she returned flatly.

“And how many hippopotami have you seen?” he queried.

“Well, none,” she admitted. “But I’ve seen drawings and murals on display of them though.”

“Very well,” he allowed. “Well, you’re in luck, you’re a floater.”

“What?” she asked, turning her face toward his. “How did you determine that?”

He shrugged. “While you were waxing about hippos and Prinny, I let you go and you stayed afloat.”

“You tricked me,” she mused with a smile.

“Yes, I did,” he conceded. “I knew if I told you when I was going to let you go, you’d get nervous and tense up.”

“Very sneaky of you, Your Grace,” she teased.

“All right, now that you know the depth of my deception, let’s swim. You’re going to bring this arm,” he grabbed her right arm that was by her side and brought it up, rotating it as he went, “up and bring it around until it meets the water. You want it turned so that when it goes in, your hand goes in first, using the side of your hand and fingertips to break the water.” He held her arm and helped her make a few more rotations. “Very good. Now, you’ll alternate. First your right, then your left.”

“My feet are sinking,” she fretted a minute later.

He looked down to her dainty feet that had slipped below the water enough that only her toes were still above. “That’s normal. But if you’d like, I’ll move down and hold them up.” He scooted down a bit and supported her ankles with his palm.

“Am I doing this right?” she asked, making another perfect stroke.

“Perfect.” He moved the arm he’d kept under her back for support and slowly walked with her as she swam along the water. “If you really want to move, you can kick your feet, too.”

“You’re holding them,” she pointed out.

“I know. And I have no intention of letting them go, either,” he said, rubbing her anklebone with his thumb. “I was just telling you that you could use them if you needed to. But you’re just frolicking, there’s no need to use them now.”

“Just like a man,” she muttered.

He laughed. “How did you get your scar?” he asked to make idle conversation. He liked having her in the water. She was relaxed and seemed to be more trusting of him.

“The one on my ankle?” she asked after a minute.

He frowned and turned her foot over. Sure enough there was a large a scar that was two inches long and half an inch wide. “I was actually talking about the one here,” he said, rubbing a little knick that was down by her toes.

“Oh, that,” she said dismissively. “When I was younger, maybe nine or ten, Brooke and I were sitting together in Mama’s Sunday school class. That wasn’t usually the case, I assure you, especially after the incident that led to the scar. Anyway, there were two rows of chairs and Brooke and I were in the second row with Liberty right in front of us. Bored from hearing of Noah and the flood for the thousandth time, Brooke and I quietly untied the bow on the back of Liberty’s dress. Then we each took our end and tied it around each side of her chair. You know that little piece of wood that connects the seat to the back support plank?” She turned her head as best she could to look down at him and waited to see him nod his understanding. “Well, when class was over, Liberty stood up, taking her chair with her of course, and the sharp edge at the bottom of the leg scratched my foot.”

He laughed. “Was that the only damage done that day?”

“Do you mean did we get in trouble when we got home? No. Mama used to carry around a tin of sweets and she’d let us have one at the start of church service. That week, she gave mine and Brooke’s to Liberty and banned us from sitting together in class ever again. It was nearly two years before we were allow to even be within arm lengths of each other at church. But to be honest, I think Mama found it just as funny as the rest of us.”

“Do you and your sisters often play jokes on each other?” he asked as he mindlessly traced the surfaces of her ankles and feet with his fingers.

“Yes,” she said, giggling. “Except not so much since Brooke got her drawers in a twist after a game of charades.”

“Charades?” he echoed disbelievingly. “You mean the game where you act out a play or poem or something ridiculous like that.”

“We don’t,” she said plainly. “We acted out a scene about her life that I daresay was more embarrassing for her to watch than participate in.”

“Did you do it to be mean?” he asked, moving to stand by her bare knees.

“No. Though I’ll say I was surprised at the time when Andrew continued courting her. Men don’t usually like tears, and if I’m not mistaken, I think she was on the verge of them that night.”

Silence hung in the air. They both knew why Townson had continued to court Brooke after her near fit of vapors. He hadn’t had a choice. He was indebted to Benjamin to ruin her and vapors weren’t going to put him off. Benjamin swallowed uncomfortably. “What of the other?” he asked suddenly.

“What other?” she asked, reaching the edge of the water and moving to stand up.

“The scar on your ankle,” he clarified, trying to look anywhere but at where her chemise was billowing up around her waist.

“Oh,” she said with a blush. “You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do,” he encouraged with a smile. “Your blush is telling me I want to know.”

“No, you don’t,” she repeated.

“Why not?”

“Because that story isn’t one that you, my husband, would like to hear,” she explained.

“Please,” he said. “I promise not to react poorly.”

She picked up a leaf that was floating in the water and wound it around her finger before looking up into his eyes again. “All right. I was trying to catch the attention of a gentleman by going fishing in the Hudson and I slipped on a rock and gnashed my foot against the sharp edge of a nearby rock as I fell.”

A knot formed in his gut. Robbie was the gentleman she’d been trying to impress by fishing. He remembered that day like it was yesterday. Robbie draping himself all over her, her startled scream, the wet hem on her skirt and Robbie carrying her off to safety. “I see,” he said slowly, forcing a thin smile to his lips.

“I told you that you wouldn’t want to hear it,” she said, throwing the leaf in the water.

“Perhaps in the future I’ll believe you,” he said, grabbing her hands. “Now that you’ve learned the backstroke, let’s try some forward swimming.” He started pulling her down the stream by her hands. “Kick your feet.”

“Like this?” she asked, kicking her feet under the water.

“I guess,” he said with a shrug. “They’re under the water, I can’t see them. However, since I’m not aware of a wrong way to kick feet, you’re probably doing it right.” He sent her a grin and kicked his own feet to help give them more propulsion.

“You’re a cheeky one, did you know that?”