“Good morning, your grace, Madame,” Mrs. Raleigh said, sweeping into the small room. This morning she was wearing a gown of the palest pink with beautiful Valencienne lace at the collar and the cuffs, banded with a darker pink satin beneath the bodice. She looked slight and beautiful, and a bit strange with the huge ring of keys dangling from a narrow leather belt tight at her waist, particularly since there wasn’t a waist. “I see you’ve noticed the croissants. His grace ordered them especially for you, you being half French and all. Mrs. Dent hopes they’re to your liking.”

“It’s wonderful, Mrs. Raleigh. Thank you, your grace. It is very thoughtful of you.” She had a mouthful even before he was seated. He smiled down the table at her. “No, you don’t have to say anything, just eat.” He served himself toast, eggs, and kidneys.

Mrs. Raleigh seemed loath to leave. She said to Evangeline, “His grace said you don’t care for hearty English breakfasts, and as he didn’t want you to fade away, he believed the croissants to be just the thing.” When Mrs. Raleigh said that, Evangeline looked at the duke. He wasn’t looking at her face. “Yes,” he said, taking a bite of eggs, “I wouldn’t want to lose your, er, upper self.”

Mrs. Raleigh was counting her keys, Evangeline saw, and didn’t hear what he’d said. Evangeline tried to slump down, just a bit.

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Raleigh said, and lightly patted her on the back. “Dorrie did magnificently with the gown. She told me she removed panels from the skirt to add to other places. Now, I will leave you to your breakfast. There is always so much to be done, you know. I can’t spend the time talking to you, even though I should like it immensely.” “She’s remarkable,” Evangeline said. “Yes. She and my mother have been friends for years. She also told me all about girls when I was about twelve. She’s very knowledgeable. Eat, that’s not enough.”

She laughed. “You’re disgraceful. You were only twelve?”

“Perhaps twelve and a half. I don’t precisely remember. But Mrs. Raleigh told me what was what, at least in very basic terms, like don’t ever touch anything above a girl’s wrist, don’t ever let a girl whisper in my ear, nervy things like that.”

“Goodness, why ever not? What’s nervy about whispering in the ear?”

“Evidently having a female so very close to a male, even a very young one, could lead to uncontrollable urges on the male’s part. The girl’s breath in his ear would shove him right over the edge.” He rose, tossing his napkin down beside his plate. “You will have to excuse me now. I promised Edmund we would ride. We will see you later. Don’t rush, Evangeline. I’ll see you later, at luncheon.”

He’d left half of his breakfast untouched on his plate. She slowly spread jam on another croissant. She closed her eyes as she bit into it. What had he heard her saying to his ancestor?

She felt John Edgerton’s cool, dry fingers on her wrist. She shuddered, then realized that she’d crumbled the croissant into a ball. She put it on her plate and wiped her hands on her napkin. She was to meet him tonight at the cove for instructions. At the thought the croissant she’d been chewing turned to paste in her mouth. She swallowed with difficulty. She’d forgotten for just a couple of moments, not long, but remembering nearly brought her to her knees. What to do?

She waited at the table until she heard the duke and Edmund leave the house. Then she walked quickly up to her bedchamber. Although Houchard had described the private beach and the hidden cave, she hadn’t seen the cave before, which meant that it wasn’t at all obvious. She’d find it now. She had no choice. There was too much at stake to risk being late for her meeting. How would she manage to make her escape from the duke this evening?

She didn’t know. She’d worry about that later.

She changed quickly into one of her old gowns and an old pair of walking boots. The morning was very warm indeed. It was very strange to have summer in the midst of winter. By noon it would be quite hot. She breathed in the tangy salt air. A light breeze ruffled her hair. By the time she reached the protected cove and walked carefully down the long zigzagging path, she felt sweat on her forehead and at the small of her back.

When she reached the beach, she shaded her eyes with her hand and looked to the south. The cliff jutted out nearly into the water, its nearly barren, craggy face shadowed from the morning sun. She made her way quickly toward it through the coarse sand. She found the cave only when she nearly stumbled into it, overhung with scraggly bushes. It was immediately on the water’s edge. Not more than a foot of sand between the cave entrance and the lapping waves. No one who wasn’t looking specifically for the cave would ever see it.

The entrance was low, and she crouched down. Then it soared upward. Six more steps into the cave and she shivered. It was damp and the air was chill. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the gloom. She saw that the cave was long and narrow, extending some twenty-five feet into the cliff. She pulled up short, realizing that the ground was wet beneath her feet. She reached up and ran her fingers along the stone walls, slimy with sea moss, to a level well above her head. At high tide the sea filled the cave. It wouldn’t be a good thing at all to be trapped in here.

She retraced her steps to the mouth of the cave and stood quietly for a moment, lifting her face upward to the hot sun, breathing in the sharp salt air.

She stepped out of the cave, looked over the water, and stopped cold. Her breath whooshed out. She saw the duke, waist high in the water, carrying Edmund upon his shoulders, some thirty feet up the beach. She jerked back into the cave. Oh, goodness, what was he doing here? He was supposed to be riding. Yet he was swimming with Edmund. It was certainly warm enough, but she imagined that the sea water was still very cold. Yes, he’d spoken of swimming with his son the day before. But here? Now? With her staring at him?

What to do? She considered staying tucked away in the cave until the duke and Edmund had left the beach, but she saw that the tide was rising quickly. She didn’t want to get wet. She didn’t want to drown.

She couldn’t walk south because the cliff jutted out into the water. Very well, north it was. Back from whence she’d come. She walked out of the cave, head up, whistling into the warm breeze. If she just kept whistling, she’d be all right. She didn’t mean to look at him, truly she didn’t. But she did. Evangeline hadn’t ever seen a naked man. He was only twenty yards away. She could see him very clearly, more clearly than she deserved, really. She watched him lift Edmund above his head and toss him forward into the water. She’d never really been all that aware of men, until last night, in the duke’s library, when he’d touched her and kissed her. And now he was here, all naked and unknowing, and she looked at him and nearly swallowed her tongue. She hadn’t imagined that a man could look like him. Surely her father was very beautiful, but he was slight, no muscle to speak of, not like the duke, who was hard and long and hairy, hairy from his thick, wet black hair on his head to the wet black hair on his chest, to the wet black hair on his groin. Goodness, she could see all of him from his knees up. She knew she should look away. She shouldn’t be here, looking her fill at him, wanting desperately to race to him and fling him onto his back on the sand, and flatten herself against him.

She knew that man had a phallus and that it stuck out from his groin. She hadn’t known what to expect, but this wasn’t at all frightening or strange. His sex was against him, not sticking out or anything else to alarm her. No, he didn’t look at all frightening, just different. She heard Edmund’s shriek of delight and saw a tangle of arms and legs. When the duke stood again, Edmund was clinging to his back, his arms wrapped

about his neck. She heard him say, “All right, Edmund, that’s quite enough. Ten minutes, no longer, else we’ll turn into blocks of ice.”

She should leave. He hadn’t seen her. Now, she should leave now. She walked quickly to a thick overhanging bush and stepped beneath it. And she continued to look. She watched the duke, Edmund still shrieking with laughter. Edmund said something, pointing toward a gull, and he laughed. She saw that both of them were shivering. Imagine even ten minutes in that water. She shivered just thinking about it.

She watched the muscles tighten and expand with his laughter, with his striding in the water, with his holding Edmund on his shoulders. She should leave. She still had time.

She had no shame.

Chapter 16

“Papa,” Edmund shouted. “Look, there’s Eve.” He was waving his arms wildly toward her. “She’s here to watch us swim. I’m glad she came. I didn’t think she believed that I was a good swimmer.” The die was cast. She was trapped. She knew he was looking at her, but he didn’t pause, didn’t hesitate, just kept walking toward shore through the waves, some of them nearly knocking him down.

There was no hope for it. She ran past the cave to the south, only to draw up short. She’d forgotten that the land lunged out into the water, cutting any escape off in that direction. Slowly she walked back. She heard the duke shout, “I see her, Edmund. Yes, there she is, not more than twenty yards away from us. And just look, I believe she’s now walking this way since she realizes she can’t decamp the other way. Let’s wait for her, Edmund. I’m sure she’s going to tell us how much she’s enjoyed our swimming exhibition. Yes, we’ve provided her quite a show, albeit a short one, since the water was so bloody cold.”

Evangeline stopped in her tracks. How long had he known she was there, watching him, slavering as she watched him? He now stood ankle-deep in the water, the waves gently lapping around him, and he was changing. He hadn’t looked at all frightening or alien before, but now he was changing, rapidly. He wasn’t moving, just standing there looking at her, and changing and growing and sticking out more and more. If she had been the duke and she was changing like that, surely she would have done something, like run or turn around, but he didn’t. He just stood there, Edmund still on his shoulders, smiling at her, and still changing before her eyes. Oh, goodness.

He laughed. He plucked Edmund off his shoulders and set his feet on the sand. “Fetch us towels, Edmund, and cover yourself well. I don’t want you to catch a chill. Perhaps your cousin Eve would care to join us.”

Tags: Catherine Coulter Baron Romance
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