Panic flared.
Christian yanked the cravat up over his head. The brilliance of the sun’s rays forced him to blink rapidly. The white spots disappeared, and then he saw Rose in the lake. With arms flailing, she splashed about trying to keep her head above the water.
“It’s not too deep.” Christian cried. “You should be able to touch the bed.”
“I … I can’t swim.”
God damn.
Jacob teetered on the edge of the bank, his eyes watery and wide, his face ashen.
“Jacob!” Christian cried, but he was too late.
Without uttering a word, Jacob jumped in, too.
Chapter Eight
Rose splashed and kicked about in the water. Something slimy slithered past her legs. Her sodden dress dragged her down, but thankfully she’d landed where the water was shallow enough to stand.
The shove in the side had taken her by surprise. They’d been darting around Lord Farleigh, dodging his outstretched hands, laughing and screaming. Yes, they’d ventured too close to the edge. That’s how accidents happened. But in her heart, she knew Jacob had pushed her deliberately.
But then, as if the situation were not troubling enough, Jacob jumped into the lake.
“I’ll save you, Rose!” the boy cried, but his head disappeared beneath the water.
“Jacob!” Drawing on every ounce of strength she had, Rose found her feet. The murky ripples lapped around her shoulders, and she pushed forward in an effort to reach him. “Can he swim?” she shouted to Lord Farleigh, who was busy shrugging out of his coat. “It’s too deep for him.”
Alice waved her hand and cried out when Jacob’s head bobbed above the surface. He spluttered and coughed before disappearing again.
Lord Farleigh threw his coat to the ground and jumped in. Being taller and twice as strong as Rose, he reached Jacob and hauled the child up into his arms.
“You foolish boy,” he said clutching Jacob to his chest and pressing his lips to the child’s forehead as if he’d already lost him. Lord Farleigh’s gaze shot to Rose. “Are you all right? Can you touch the bottom?”
Rose nodded. The cold penetrated her bones. Her lower jaw sagged, and she couldn’t stop her teeth chattering.
Lord Farleigh lifted Jacob onto the grass verge. “Turn him on to his side, Alice, and pat his back.” He turned to Rose. “Wait, I’m coming for you.” He reached her in seconds. “Good God, your lips are blue. Drape your arms around my neck, and I’ll pull you to the bank.”
She hesitated but then wrapped her trembling arms around him. Christian slid one strong arm around her waist and pulled her tightly to his body as he waded through the water. Once at the edge, he hoisted her up as though she were a small child, too.
It took a few attempts for her to stand, the weight of her dress made every movement cumbersome. She turned to Christian and held out her hand. “Let me help you up.”
His wet hand slipped into hers, palm to palm. Their eyes locked and with a heave, she hauled him out.
Without saying a word, Christian rushed to Jacob’s side and dropped to his knees on the grass. “Jacob? Can you hear me? Say something.”
Jacob turned his head. His pallid countenance conveyed shock, perhaps something else, too. Indeed, when the boy finally held Christian’s gaze, his eyes swam with remorse. “Yes, Papa. I … I’m fine. But what about Rose?”
Rose knelt at Jacob’s side and picked green algae from his hair. “It will take a little more than a dunking in the lake to frighten me away.” She made light of the situation yet her lips quivered, and her hand shook as she placed it on Jacob’s chest.
Lord Farleigh placed a gentle hand on her lower back. Rose wasn’t sure what to make of the gesture, but it brought comfort all the same.
“We should get back to the house before we all catch a chill.” Lord Farleigh touched his son’s brow. “Can you walk or should I carry you?”
Alice suddenly burst into tears. “I hate the lake.”
“That’s because you’re the only one who isn’t wet,” Rose said, attempting to soothe the child. She stood, scooped Alice into her arms and cuddled her close. “Now we’re all the same.”
A weak chuckle escaped from Alice’s lips.