The Perfect Stranger (21 page)

“Yes, certainly. Perhaps you could wake me earlier tomorrow morning.” She gave him a mischievous smile, and he looked away, knowing full well whose fault it had been that she’d needed to sleep late. Again.

He had been watching her for any signs she might be getting overly attached, but apart from a tendency to share her smiles with the world, she seemed quite normal.

“Your hat is on crooked,” he said, needing something to say. She adjusted her hat to better shade her face and gave him a look of bright query. He nodded. It was bad enough she was on this rough trip without having her delicate skin scorched to pieces. The weather had turned warm, almost hot.

By early afternoon it was even hotter, and Faith’s face was glowing with heat or exertion, Nick wasn’t sure which. Catching a glimpse of sea in the distance, he announced they would rest at the beach for a little while. Mac and Stevens gave him odd looks, but he ignored them.

The beach was sandy and deserted. They found some shade and ate bread with sausage and cheese, and crisp local apples to follow. On a blanket in the shade, Faith lay back and closed her eyes. She was asleep in moments, he thought guiltily. He’d worn her out. She slept, the sun beat down, the sea sparkled a brilliant blue.

Nick eyed it longingly. They would have to turn inland for a while soon. It might be his last chance. He stood abruptly.

“I’m going for a swim.”

Mac and Beowulf joined him. Stevens shrugged. “I’ll stay here with the mistress. I might even have a snooze, myself.”

Faith woke to the sound of snoring and seagulls. She sat up, hot, sleepy, and disoriented. Stevens lay on another blanket a few feet away, sound asleep with his mouth open.

She stood and stretched. Her muscles had loosened a little with the riding, but she’d slept in an awkward position. Where was Nicholas? She looked around and saw Beowulf standing at the very edge of the waves, looking intently out to sea. Two heads bobbed in the waves. They were swimming. So much for traveling as far as possible each day.

Faith watched them enviously. She would have loved to swim, but she didn’t know how. It was such a hot day, and the water looked so cool and fresh and inviting. She’d paddled her bare feet in it earlier, and it was bliss. The thought of putting her whole body in the coolness was heavenly.

In her mind, she heard her twin’s voice saying, just as if Hope were right here, “Turn down no opportunity for joy, however small.”

Just yesterday she’d agreed to live for the moment. And this was the moment. Without further thought Faith snatched up her blanket and ran down the beach a little. She glanced back at the sleeping Stevens. He was sound asleep and barely visible. There was not another soul around, so she unbuttoned the jacket of her habit. She re moved the skirt, folded it, and placed it beside the boots and stockings she’d removed when they first arrived at the beach. She kept unbuttoning things until she stood on the beach wearing nothing but her chemise and pantaloons. Feeling a bit exposed, she shook out the blanket, wrapped it around her, and walked down to the water’s edge.

Beowulf gave her a sideways glance and growled but otherwise ignored her. He was only interested in his master.

Faith dropped the blanket and, feeling immensely daring, waded in up to her knees, gasping as each small wave splashed her hot skin. The water was freezing at first, but very invigorating. She waded deeper, her excitement growing, until she stood almost waist deep. She did not dare go deeper; she was frightened of being swept off her feet. The waves were small but quite strong. She jumped and splashed and patted the cold salt water on her hot face and arms. It was heavenly. She would have loved to immerse herself completely, but she was too nervous.

She looked out to sea at her husband, his sleek, dark head bobbing in the waves. His back was turned; he hadn’t noticed her yet. She wondered if he’d agree to teach her to swim.

“Have ye no modesty, woman?”

A large, wet, irritable Scotsman was standing chest deep in the sea to her left. She hadn’t noticed him coming to shore.

A tangled mass of seaweed floated in the clear water near her feet. Faith wasn’t fond of seaweed. Creatures lurked in seaweed. She carefully stepped around it.

“Well?” Mac demanded.

“Well, what?”

“Will ye no remove yer person?”

She frowned. “Why should I?”

“Fer the sake o’ yer modesty!” Mac said, bristling with indignation. “It should be obvious, even tae the likes o’ you!”

“I am perfectly modest,” she retorted, crossing her arms across her breasts defensively. After all, she might be in her underwear, but her chemise and pantaloons covered her decently, whereas he was no doubt naked, as he’d been that first day.

“Not if ye can face a nekkid man wi’oot a blush, ye’re not! Now, move, woman!”

“I will not! I have a perfect right to cool myself just as you have!”

“Mebbe, but I wish to get oot!”

She shrugged. “I’m not stopping you!”

“Ye are! Did ye no’ hear me? I’m nekkid, ye shameless creature!”

“I am not a shameless creature, and I utterly refuse to move. Go ahead, leave the water, I am not stopping you. See?” She turned away from him. “I won’t look!”

He snorted. “I wouldna trust ye no’ tae peek.”

“I gave you my word.” Faith was furious. Not least because the other day she had peeked. But not at him. And she hadn’t given her word then.

He snorted again. “Aye, the word o’ a hussy!”

She turned, enraged. “I am not a hussy! And if you ever call me one again, I—I will—I will—oooh!” She could think of no fate terrible enough. Without a thought, she bent and scooped up the floating mass of seaweed and hurled it at him with all her might. It landed directly on him.

He staggered back in the water, clutching the mass of dripping seaweed to his chest. It may have contained creatures, but Mac was made of sterner stuff.

“Ye’ll no’ budge then?”

“No!”

He glared at her. “No shame at all,” he declared and stalked out of the water clutching the seaweed strategically against him to preserve his own modesty, if not hers.

“It’s full of crabs!” Faith called after him.

He recoiled and flung the seaweed from him. Faith instantly turned her back. She was not a hussy! As if she would want to stare at a big, nekkid, hairy Scotsman! A naked Greek god, now…As she peered out to sea, looking for her husband, his dark, wet head bobbed up beside her, like a seal in the water.

“That, Mrs. Blacklock, was very naughty of you.”

She said defensively, “Well, he was very rude.”

“Yes, but also very embarrassed to be caught naked by a woman. I expect you’ve given him food for thought. Tell me, were there really crabs in that seaweed?” He was amused, she saw with relief. His eyes were dancing with laughter.

“I don’t know. I hope so. I hope they were big and angry, and I hope they bit him. Hard and in a sensitive spot!”

He laughed out loud then. Faith beamed, her temper forgotten in the joy of hearing him laugh, and without hesitation he reached out and pulled her under.

She surfaced, spluttering and splashing, and eyed him with outrage. “You beast! Whatever did you do that for? I could have drowned!”

He laughed in what Faith thought was a very callous manner and pointed out, “You’re standing on the sea floor and you’re only up to your waist.”

Having no words to retort in a fitting manner, she splashed him. He splashed her back, and the fight was on. Water flew in all directions, until they were both panting and dripping and laughing. It was wonderful fun, but eventually Nicholas stopped it by diving under the waves and swimming out of Faith’s reach.

She watched him with a mixture of frustration and wistfulness. “Not fair,” she said when he surfaced a few yards away. “You know I can’t swim.”

For answer, Nicholas dived back under the waves and disappeared. He was gone for a long time, and just as Faith was getting anxious, a dark shadow arrowed toward her under the water. She shrieked with fright, even as she realized who it was. He gripped her around the thighs and lifted her high out of the water.

“Do you want to learn? I could teach you if you like.”

She clutched his shoulders, but said eagerly, all thought of water fights forgotten, “Would you?”

“Of course,” he said and let her slide back down the length of his body, into the sea. Friction, hot and cool. “Now, the first thing you need to learn is how to float.”

Disappointed, she wrinkled her nose. “Just float?”

“Floating is both harder than you think and easier. It’s important. For a start, you need to know that you can float, and that therefore you can swim. Also, if ever you get tired in the water, you can always float.” He scooped one arm around her waist. “I’ll keep my hand here, in the small of your back. Just lean back and put the back of your head in the water and let your feet float up to the surface.”

She leaned back against his hand, but her feet refused to rise.

He slid his other hand under her hips. “Don’t worry, I’ll support you; you won’t go under.”

She squeezed her eyes tight closed and pushed backward. It was scary, but after one or two false starts, she managed not to struggle when, murmuring encouragement, he gently but surely tipped her backward and pressed her hips upward. She was as stiff as a board, certain that at any moment, she’d go under.

“Head back, that’s right, now breathe…” He waited. “It’s all right to breathe…In fact, you
need
to breathe.” He waited a little longer, and then said in his officer voice, “Faith, breathe.”

She opened her eyes, took a huge gulp of air, and went under. She came up spluttering. “You said I wouldn’t—” And stopped. He was laughing. She thumped him on the arm. “How dare you half drown me and then laugh about it!”

Still laughing, he said, “That was quite good. You were floating almost by yourself, you know, only you need to learn the art of floating
and
breathing.”

Ignoring his teasing, she tried again, insisting he keep his hand under her back, just in case. She put her head back in the water, feeling the cool water lapping around her ears, and pushed her feet up.

“Now breathe,” he said. “It helps keep you buoyant.”

Faith floated and breathed, big, deep breaths. It was amazing. She felt weightless, but his big hand was still supporting her. Breathing did aid buoyancy. Faith breathed even deeper.

He groaned. “God give me strength.”

Her eyes flew open. “Am I too heavy for you?” Her feet thrashed around, and she immediately sank.

He hauled her to her feet. “Of course not. In water you weigh nothing at all.”

“Then why did you ask God for strength?”

“Not physical strength, moral.” With a rueful expression, he glanced at her body. “I’m sure you thought you were well covered when you began, but now that you’re wet all over…” His mouth quirked at her puzzled expression. “I don’t suppose you know the effect of water on white cotton underwear.”

She followed his gaze and gasped. The effect of water on white cotton was to make it almost totally transparent, and she looked as near to naked as made no difference. She clapped her hands over her breasts and crouched down in the water.

He smiled then. “I have seen you before, you know.”

She didn’t know where to look. She felt her face heating. “Y-yes, maybe, but not outside in the open air. Oh heavens! Mr. McTavish!” she turned, horrified. “He would have seen—”

Nicholas shook his head. “No, he wouldn’t have seen anything except your underwear. Your bottom half was under the water, and your top half didn’t get wet until you bent to pick up that bunch of seaweed.” He grinned. “I seem to remember that he was somewhat occupied after that.”

Faith thought it over, then relaxed. “Yes, and I turned my back to prove I wasn’t a peeking hussy.”

“A
what
?” His brows snapped together.

“He said I was a shameless hussy who likes to look at naked men. And it’s not true, not really. I only like to look at—” She broke off, flustered. What would he think if she discovered she had, in fact, shamelessly ogled a naked man?

“What do you only like to look at?” he prompted.

She didn’t answer. She was sure her face was on fire. She longed to sink into the cool, salty water and just hide there, only his hands were still holding her upper arms.

“Faith?”

He obviously wasn’t going to give up. “Greek statues,” she said in a small voice.

There was a short silence. “Greek statues?”

“Yes,” she said airily. “Haven’t you seen Lord Elgin’s marbles? They are most cleverly wrought.”

“No, I haven’t.” He frowned again. “So, Mac called you a shameless hussy?”

“Yes. I suppose it was a bit hussyish of me to be in my underclothes. But at least
I
was covered,” she said quickly, glad of the change of subject. “He’s very
bearish
, isn’t he?”

He gave her a doubtful look.

She explained. “Grumpy and mean-spirited and expecting the worst from me all the time. Why does he dislike me so? I’ve never done anything to him.”

He shook his head. “It’s not you. He’s had very bad luck with women in the past. He expects the worst from all women.” His brow darkened. “But I’ll not have him upsetting you or speaking disrespectfully to you. I shall deal with—”

“No!” She laid a hand on his chest. “I will deal with Mr. McTavish myself. Since he expects the worst from women, I won’t disappoint him,” she declared. “I don’t care if he is your friend, Nicholas. I will not put up with his—his bearishness anymore. I am fed up with men being rude to me!”

He gave her a thoughtful look. “Very well. I’ll leave it in your hands…for the moment. Now, shall we return to the beach?”

Her face fell. “What about my swimming lesson?”

Nick stifled a groan. A man shouldn’t have to deal with a rosy, near-naked water nymph and not be able to do anything about it. Especially now he knew the texture of her skin, the shape of her body under his hands, the taste of her breasts…

He should never have consummated the marriage.

“Just one little lesson? Please?”