His Contract Bride (23 page)

Just then, the back of the boat tipped backward due to the unbalanced weight and plunged them both into the chilly water.

~Chapter Twenty-Three~

Edward came to the surface to take a gulp of air and was met with a splash of cold water in his face.

Five feet away, Regina thrashed, trying in vain to keep her head above water. But, she couldn't. She'd manage to get her face above water just long enough to gasp and then down she went again. Though the creek couldn't be any more than six or seven feet deep, to a lady like Regina, wearing all those heavy skirts, it might as well be a hundred.

He swam over to her just as she'd slipped under the water again and wrapped his arm around her midsection, pulling her safely above water for good.

“
Breathe,” he whispered in her ear as he made his way toward the shore with her. He set her down on a large rock and pulled himself up next to her. “You can breathe now, it's all right.”

She coughed up a mouth full of water.

He patted her back. “Are you all right now?”

“
I think so,” she said in between coughs. Her hair, which was always styled beautifully, was slipping from its pins and plastered to her red face.

He reached up and swept a stray lock from her forehead. “Just take deep breaths. That's it.”

Her shallow breathing continued as she tried to catch her breath. Lowering her head, she took a deep, shaky breath, and then released it. Then another. She looked up and gasped. “What happened to your face?”

Edward ran his hands over his face and then pulled them away. Bright red blood covered his fingers. He'd been so worried about Regina until now that he hadn't paid any mind to his smarting cheek. He used the back of his hand to wipe at the blood. “I must have cut my face when I hit the rocks on the bottom.”

“
Doesn't it hurt?”

“
Well, yes.”

An uneven laugh escaped her lips. “Come here, let me see that.”

He moved closer. He wouldn't argue having a beautiful woman clean his wounds, meager as they may be.

Regina stripped off her left glove and dunked it into the water. She squeezed out the excess then folded it over and brought it to his face.

He winced.

“
For—”

He cut those confounded words off with a quick kiss.

The column of her throat worked as she swallowed; her delicate fingers danced across his forehead, sweeping his hair away from his wound. She wiped away the blood. “It appears you have two long gashes and a blackened eye to go along with your soaked clothes and ruined boots.”

He encircled her wrist and pulled her hand away from his face. “I'm sorry I caused us to tip. I didn't see that branch until it was too late to do anything about it.”

“
It wasn't your fault.”

Actually, it was, but who was he to argue? Noting the sun's position in the sky, he said, “Why don't you wait, and I'll go see after the boat.”

“
Where is the boat?” Regina turned away from him to look.

He pointed in the general direction of where he'd last seen the boat. “By the rocks over there.”

“
Did it always sit so low in the water?”

He craned his neck to see. “No. I do believe this might be
Gallant
's last adventure.” My, but that boat was filling with water fast. He flashed her a smile. “Congratulations, Regina. You've managed to do in your first adventure what seven boys could not do in all of ours.”

Her jaw dropped. “Surely you don't think this is
my
fault.”

He shrugged. “You're the one who said the fault wasn't mine. That only leaves you.”

She nudged him playfully with her elbow. He loved it when she did things like that. It made him feel as if she was becoming comfortable being herself in his presence. “Is it utterly unsalvageable?”

Before he could answer,
Gallant
slipped under the water. “I believe so, yes.”

Regina buried her head in her hands and sobs wracked her body.

He moved against her, wrapping his arm around her. “Shhh,” he crooned in her ear. “Don't cry. It'll be all right.”

She looked up from her hands, her body still shaking uncontrollably, but not because of tears. She was laughing! That minx.

Edward took her in. She could sit here and laugh until the sun rose tomorrow morning for all he cared. He loved hearing that merry sound.

“
Do you have any scientific theories on how the unsinkable
Gallant
sank?” she asked after her laughter had calmed down into the occasional giggle.

Edward crossed his ankles and knocked the sides of his ruined boots together. “For once, I don't. My guess would be that after we were thrown into water,
Gallant
regained enough buoyancy to float again, but instead of meeting directly with the water when her bow came down, the underneath part of her must have hit a hard surface—” he looked around at their surroundings— “like the branches we were trying to escape or one of those large stones over there, cracking the wood and leaving her to take on water and sink.” He plucked a blade of tall grass by his side. “Perhaps
Gallant
wasn't so gallant, after all.”

“
You're not upset at all, are you?”

“
No. Should I be?”

“
Most gentlemen in your position would be.”

He reached over and wiped away a drop of water that was clinging to Regina's jawline. “You mean like your father?”

She nodded. “He'd have said it was my fault, but, unlike you, he wouldn't have been jesting.”

Irritation for the man swelled inside him. “I'm glad you recognized my jest as just that.”

“
You seem to do that a lot. Jest, I mean.”

He bent forward and untied his leather boots. They'd be terribly uncomfortable to walk in now that they were wet. “Too much?”

“
No. I rather like it.”

“
Good. I should hate to have to change my personality in order to please my wife.” His fingers stilled on his boot laces. “I apologize, that did not come out as I intended.”

“
I'm not sure I know what you mean.”

Edward kicked off his boots and then peeled off his stockings. “Then think nothing of it,” he said dismissively, taking to his now bare feet. At every turn, she was proving different than both his mother and his father in every matter they encountered. Frankly, he didn't know what to think of her anymore. “We should probably start walking now if we want to make it back to Watson Townhouse before your breakfast.”

A wobbly smile took her lips. “That was another jest, wasn't it?”

“
Partially.” He scooped up his discarded boots and stockings in his left hand then helped her gain her feet. “It's approximately five miles from where we had our picnic to Watson Estate and another two miles to where we turned around. But since we'd only just turned around a mile or so ago, I think we still have a mile yet until we get to the Y.”

“
Oh.”

He squeezed her hand and then interlaced their fingers. “Not to worry, my lady. I'll get you home in time for your breakfast.”
Home?
When had he started thinking of Watson Townhouse as his home? He'd hated going there. With very little interior room as compared to Watson Estate, there wasn't anywhere to escape when Father and Mother took to arguing except to the third story nursery or Covent Garden. Not like at Watson Estate, where he could race his horse across the fields, swim in the creek, or get lost with his brothers on an adventure.

“
Do you think?”

Edward started. “I beg your pardon, I was woolgathering.” He guided them around a bed of sharp rocks. “Go on.”

“
I just wondered if you think everyone who'll be at my breakfast will have a good time.”

“
Of course,” he lied, taking a keen interest in where his bare feet were about to walk. He could think of at least two people who wouldn't find it a pleasant experience.

Regina's grip tightened a fraction then relaxed. “I hope you're right. My father is really looking forward to this event and I hope I don't disappoint him.”

Edward ground his teeth. “Do you care so much for his opinion of you?”

“
Yes,” she whispered.

He turned to study her face. Something was different. “Why?”

“
I've never been able to gain his approval before.”

“
And you think this breakfast is how you will?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “I hope so. I've worked very hard on this breakfast, and I hope he sees that I'm not the featherbrain he thinks me.”

Edward felt a hint of guilt for the caliber of people he'd invited to her breakfast, then in an instant it was gone. “You don't need his approval, you know?”

“
Sure I do. The same as you, I have a family duty to uphold.”

“
Do you have a title I don't know about?”

She cast him a weak smile. “No. I was actually talking about your family duty to marry me.”

“
That wasn't family duty.”

She snorted. “Then, did your father have the fifteen thousand pounds to repay my father?”

He released her hand and helped her over a fallen log. “My father's need for money had nothing to do with our betrothal.”

“
It didn't?”

“
No.” He took her hand in his again, noting the way her walking wasn't quite as graceful as it had been when they'd started. Her skin was cool, too. “My father didn't want me to have the same sort of marriage he had; that's why he sought to arrange my marriage. See, my parents were in love, just with different people.”

“
Oh, dear.”

“
Oh dear, indeed.” He squeezed her hand. But was it for her benefit, or his? “Contrary to the romantic stories you ladies enjoy reading so much, Father was the one who had a deep, indestructible, and unrequited love for Mother. He said he'd been cast under her spell the moment they met, or some such nonsense. Unfortunately, Father wasn't the first man she'd ensnared, but he was the wealthiest. Instead of a dowry, Father agreed to pay a bride price, which turned out to be far more than the initial ten thousand pounds he gave her father. He paid dearly with his heart.

“
Mother never stopped loving her impoverished Italian count. When she and Father would quarrel, she'd threaten to go live with him. Likely, it was during one of their spats that our fathers signed that contract. Then, when I was fourteen, Mother died. It was after her funeral that he explained to me how much better my marriage would be, since we'd both enter it knowing the other wasn't in love—” He shut his mouth with a snap and his heart hammered wildly in his chest. He'd already said too much, and judging by the stricken look on her face, she knew exactly what he was about to say.

“
I'm sorry,” he whispered a few minutes later.

“
It's not your fault my father lied to me.”

“
No, but I should have been more careful with what I was saying.”

She turned her head to look at a tree they were passing.

He squeezed her hand to gain her attention. “Can I trust you to keep a secret?”

“
You can tell me, but remember that you can't untell me.”

He chuckled at her weak jest. What a fortunate man he was to be leg-shackled to such a forgiving lady. “There's not a reason for me to untell you anything, especially this. But, because of a vow I made to my brothers when I was younger, I had to ask if you could keep a secret?”

Regina stared at him as if he were cracked.

Cringing at the awkward feeling of mud squishing between his toes, he said, “As I'm sure you've noticed by now, words have a way of tumbling right out of my mouth.”

“
Yes, I've noticed.”

“
And you like it, too, don't you?”

She offered him a wobbly smile. “Perhaps.” Her right shoulder went up in a shrug. “It's so much different from what I'm accustomed to, I suppose.”

“
Good. I'm glad you like it. I do, too. In fact, my favorite thing to do is scandalize you whenever possible.”

“
You're the kind who would,” she said, shaking her head.

“
Of course, I would. It makes your cheeks turn a ravishing shade of pink.”

Regina snarled in the most comical way he'd ever seen, only adding to his amusement. “All right, what secret is Lord Watson keeping that makes him feel he might perish if he doesn't reveal it soon?”

He dropped his boots to the ground. “First, I must ask you another question.”