He had plunged in after her to save her, Lily realized as she endured a helpless fit of coughing.
When she finally managed to catch her wheezing breath, he drew her even closer against him. “Are you all right?” he asked, concern in his eyes.
His face was very near hers, and she was clutching at his shoulders. Although she didn’t want to let go, Lily forced herself to relax her death grip.
“Yes,” she rasped hoarsely. “I’m fine.”
His mouth curled. “You don’t look fine.”
“I will be once I can breathe.”
As if to dispute her declaration, another bout of coughing overtook her. Heath continued to support her until she found her voice again.
“Thank you,” Lily said finally. “You didn’t need to get wet, though. I could have saved myself.”
“I thought you might drown.”
“I know how to swim. Basil Eddowes taught me when we were children. It was just the shock of falling in that paralyzed me for a moment.” She paused, suddenly aware of his body pressing against hers. “You can release me now. I can manage on my own.”
“You may
find it hard to swim in long skirts and petticoats.”
“I can manage,” Lily repeated.
He still seemed reluctant to release her, so she pushed away from him. He was right, Lily quickly learned. She could float somewhat, but she wasn’t very buoyant. Her skirts felt like a ship’s anchor, pulling her down. And when she tried to kick her legs to swim, she discovered they were tangled in swaths of muslin.
It was a struggle, but she made it over to the rowboat several yards away. Reaching up, she grasped the edge and clung.
She waited a short while to regain her strength before attempting to climb in, but then found it impossible; the weight of her sodden gown dragged her down, and every time she attempted to haul herself up, she tilted the rowboat into the water.
“Do you need my help yet, sweeting?” Heath asked mildly when she muttered an oath of exasperation.
Pushing a strand of dripping hair from her eyes, Lily glanced back at him. He was enjoying her dilemma, she could tell. And he wanted her to admit defeat. But she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of asking him for help.
By now a group of people had gathered on shore and were calling to her in alarm, demanding to know if she was all right.
“Yes, don’t worry,” Lily called back. “I am coming.”
Releasing her hold on the little boat, she struck out for the nearest shore to her left, swimming slowly because of her entangling skirts.
Judging by his tone, Heath didn’t seem to approve of her decision. “Just what do you think you are doing, Lily?”
She continued making small strokes, despite the frustration of only inching along. “I am saving myself. I don’t want you to earn any points for rescuing me. You only need three more to win as it is.”
“What if I relinquish any claim to points this time? Will you return to the boat and let me help you?”
“Thank you, your lordship, but I find the exercise stimulating.”
“Lily…” he said, amusement warring with exasperation.
When she wouldn’t give up, Heath caught up to her and swam alongside her, matching his strokes to her much shorter ones. “Did anyone ever tell you how stubborn you are, Miss Loring?”
“Yes, quite frequently. You have yourself. But I warned you of that, remember?”
Several of the people on land realized what she was doing and started hurrying around the lake to meet her. Benjamin was in the lead, followed swiftly by three footmen. And Winifred panted after them, her larger bulk preventing her from maintaining the same speed.
Lily’s arms and legs were growing tired, but thankfully she shortly reached shallower water where her feet could touch bottom. Standing upright, however, was an exercise in futility. She had lost both her slippers, and her stockinged feet had difficulty finding purchase in the sandy mud. And even when she eventually managed to find her footing, climbing out of the lake was like dragging chains behind her.