Will clasped his hands behind his back. ‘Probably.’ She was too intelligent to be soothed by platitudes.
‘And no one except the children has any idea where we are.’
‘Unless one of the staff saw us walking down to the boathouse, then, no. I have no confidence that they did as I told them and informed my butler, or anyone else, where we had gone. Only that brood of, as you so rightly called them, little devils, can find us.’
‘But why?’ she demanded, turning to him.
That is genuine. She really has no thought of what it might mean—will mean—being stranded overnight with me. Extraordinary.
He almost smiled as Verity raised her hands to her head as though to tug at her hair in frustration, recollected herself and linked her fingers in front of her. But there was nothing to smile about. Nothing at all.
‘We could light a fire. But would that be seen from the house?’ She began to pace up and down the tiny beach, arguing with herself as much as him, Will suspected, so intrigued that he forgot to be angry for a moment. Ladies, his grandfather had always maintained, were incapable of sustained reasoning and the young females he had came into contact with certainly showed no inclination to think things through. An unpleasant suspicion began to creep over him that those girls had been raised to appear empty-headed. He jerked his attention back to Verity, who had passed him for the second time.
‘They will launch a search eventually, I suppose, and they will look in the grounds, so they will come down to the lake and might see a fire. We could hang something up as a signal, but we do not have a sheet. Let me think... Bother these fashions, my petticoats would hardly make a small flag.’ She turned again, her feet sending stones spraying out with the vehemence of the movement. ‘But even a sheet will not help because the island cannot be seen from the lawns.’ She stopped and addressed him directly. ‘Will they search those woods?’ She waved a hand towards the dense oak and beech trees crowding down to the shore.
‘Not until they have exhausted the house and the gardens and the nearest areas of the park,’ Will admitted. ‘How likely is your father to become dangerously anxious, to leap to the conclusion that something serious will have befallen us?’
‘He is a very calm person. He will assume we are together and he knows us both to be sensible adults who could cope with a misadventure. We are on your property. And Mr Hoskins will reassure him, do his best to ensure he is not agitated. He will not suffer a relapse, if that is what concerns you, his mind is too resolute. He will be concerned but, as I said, he will know you are with me—’
She broke off, spun round so abruptly that she staggered and he had to take two long strides forward to catch her by the elbows. ‘Together. Oh, no. No.’ Her hands closed over his forearms so they stood locked in place, staring at each other. ‘Those little... But why? Why would they want to compromise me? I have never done anything to hurt them, surely? I hardly know them.’
‘They do not want to hurt you, Verity,’ Will said. ‘They have taken a liking to you. They are worried that I am going to marry some exceedingly proper young lady who will be even stricter than their governess and tutor are.’
She gasped. ‘They want you to marry me? Simply because they think I would not be strict with them?’
He had called her by her first name, they were standing improperly close, hands clasping arms, so close that he could feel her body heat, see the rise and fall of her breasts, the still-agitated breaths from the scrambling run, the shock of finding herself stranded. She smelled deliciously of warm woman and crushed greenery and wisteria blossom and he wanted to haul her in closer, press his lips to that indignant mouth and take the fullness gently between his teeth, taste her. Madness.
‘You think that would be a bad idea?’ he asked instead.
I have lost my mind. Marry this woman? The least suitable bride I can imagine? This rebellious, unconventional bluestocking?
‘To trap a man into marriage? Any man, let alone one of the most eligible in the country? Of course I think it a bad idea. Do you think I have no pride? That I am desperate for a husband before I find myself on the shelf? Do you think I would be delighted that a pack of ill-disciplined children have decided to entrap me into wedlock with a man I do not even like?’
The realisation of what she had just said was clear in the appalled expression in those expressive brown eyes. ‘I am so sorry. I did not mean that...’
‘Yes, you did,’ Will said calmly. It was no more than he should have expected of her after all. She was a hoyden, unbecomingly independent, outspoken and uninhibited and he had already been appallingly rude to her that day. And what was she doing to him? He should not be speaking to a lady like that. He should not be standing on a deserted island holding her like this. He should certainly not be aching to pull her down on to that patch of short turf over there—so conveniently close—and see whether he could make those intelligent eyes go blind with passion.
I am the Duke of Aylsham. I should be a perfect gentleman, a perfect nobleman, at all times. I owe it to my name, to myself. This is an unfortunate situation and not Verity’s fault. So, deal with it.
Will stared at the far shore, estimated distance. ‘I will swim across. It will take some time to get help to you, but I will light a fire before I go and you have shelter and food. You would not be afraid to be here alone for a few hours?’
Verity’s lips compressed into a thin line and she took her hands from his forearms as though he had suddenly become slimy. ‘Oh, of course, I would be terrified. Why, there might be dangerous frogs. Or possibly man-eating gulls. Or perhaps the place is haunted. Do not be ridiculous, Will. I would not be afraid, but that is quite beside the point. You are not going to make that swim. Have you ever swum that far before?’
‘Not quite so far,’ he admitted, eyeing the far shore. But he was fit, a good swimmer. He would do it because he had to do it. A gentleman did not compromise a lady, even such an unladylike one. There was no other option.
‘You are not Lord Byron, swimming the Hellespont!’ she flung at him. ‘You are an intelligent man—or I assume you are when you are not fogging your mind with these ridiculous ideas of honour and duty. Think, for goodness’ sake. This water is cold, you admit it is a long way, you have no idea about the currents, or dangerous patches of weed. And if I see you drowning I will not be able to do anything about it and I will be scarred for life by the experience, which would be very selfish of you.’
‘You are laughing at me.’ It was ridiculous how angry that made him. This impertinent chit of a female who disparaged honourable behaviour, who flatly contradicted his decisions and questioned his judgement—
‘I am not laughing, believe me. I admit I was trying to find some humour in a ghastly situation to make you see how foolish you are being.’
‘Miss Wingate. Will you kindly go into the hut while I remove my clothing? There is no other solution to this and I will not drown.’
Chapter Eight
‘I will not let you swim.’ Verity planted herself firmly in front of him, facing him down, although the top of her head only came up as far as the tip of his nose. Will had not thought that big brown eyes could seem hard and determined, but these were now. ‘Never mind my feelings. I did not think it would be necessary to point this out to a loving brother, but do you want Basil to inherit the title knowing that it was his idiotic scheme that caused your death? Do you want him saddled with that guilt? Or with the ghastly burden of a dukedom, come to that.’
He had not thought of that. He was almost certain he could make it, but not absolutely. And if he failed, then not only Basil, but all of them, would spend the rest of their lives with his death on their consciences. And it would weigh heavy, he knew. They might seem heedless, undisciplined, wild even, but they were sensitive, intelligent children. Then the rest of what Verity had said struck him.