Chapter Thirteen

After allowing Marcus to fuss over his cravat for a full seventeen minutes, Garrett dismissed the eager valet and braced himself to make his appearance at Lady Ravensdale’s garden party. He’d eschewed both the top hat and cane Marcus tried foisting upon him. He wasn’t a doddering old man yet, for God’s sake.

Feeling overdressed for a summer afternoon, he slipped downstairs and out to the front lawn. Most of the other guests had already arrived, but he wasn’t really interested in any of them. No, he found himself searching for one individual in particular. He leaned against the ornate wall lining the drive and perused the various clusters of ladies and gentlemen. They held dainty cakes in gloved hands and drank lemonade from sparkling crystal. Conversation rose and fell as it echoed off the waters of the nearby lake. The moderated tones, however, were interrupted by a delightful burst of feminine giggles.

Lady Natalie, overcome with laughter, dressed in pink and lace, was enough to dispel any reluctance he’d had in attending. Without stopping to think, he purposefully strode toward the group of ladies where they sat near the water.

Garrett’s heart lightened as he drew closer. Her earlier despondency had fled, and a bubbling effervescence now overflowed from her. He’d not enjoyed contemplating her misery.

Upon reaching them, he bowed. “My lady, would you be so kind as to present me to your lovely companions?”

Miss Crone actually snorted. Garrett ignored the sarcastic gesture and instead complimented them upon their frocks. They seemed a cheerful group, less restrained and rigid than the countess’ other guests.

Lady Natalie’s eyes gleamed. “Won’t you sit with us, my lord?” She indicated a vacant chair across from her. Before any further conversation, however, Lord Ravensdale ambled toward them with the Duke of Monfort following at a more leisurely pace.

Gesturing toward the empty rowboats, the earl turned in the direction of his sons and with no thought to propriety, shouted, “Come over here, Darlington. We have three ladies in need of coxswains and just two bachelors to comply.” Returning his attention to the ladies, he laughed at his own cleverness. “I’m sure you gels might have waited all day for these gallants to put away their games and take you out for a paddle, eh? Gentlemen sometimes need prodding, heh, heh.”

Natalie tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and likely was wondering that her father was such a favorite of the ton. Garrett supposed it had something to do with the man being an earl—a very wealthy one at that.

Showing no tact whatsoever, the earl persisted. “Natalie, I’m sure Monfort here has a knack with the oars. Hawthorne, you take out dear Miss Wright, and Darlington can row Miss Crone. What a nice picture you all will make, eh?”

Looking resigned, Natalie rose and the duke bowed low before her. “My lady, it would be an honor to take you for a turn on the lake, if you wish it.”

She curtsied and smiled politely—too politely. “It would be my pleasure, Your Grace.” Garrett turned to Miss Wright and offered his arm, and just arriving to join them, Lord Darlington did the same with Miss Crone. The resigned little group obediently stepped out onto the dock and began arranging themselves onto the various boats.

Monfort claimed a boat first and steadied it for Lady Natalie. Ignoring the duke’s outstretched hand, Natalie gasped in dismay. “Oh, I have forgotten my parasol! Miss Wright, you must go with the duke, and I shall follow with Lord Hawthorne.” Natalie pulled the lady forward and thrust her toward the duke’s craft.

If not for the quick reactions of the duke, Miss Abigail Wright might very well have fallen into the lake.

Garrett chuckled as Natalie dashed back onto shore, presumably to fetch the very essential parasol. Heaven forbid her honeyed English complexion be exposed to the intermittent afternoon sunlight. As the duke pushed off with Miss Wright, Garrett watched Natalie slow to a promenade, open the lacy umbrella, and twirl it flirtatiously on her shoulder. A secret smile danced upon her lips as she glanced at him from beneath her lashes.

In no hurry himself, Garrett took a seat in the third rowboat, reclined on the bench, and enjoyed her performance. He admitted to himself, unashamedly, that he was not displeased with this turn of events.

When she arrived on the jetty once again, he couldn’t help but return her impish grin.

“Well, my lady, that was effective. I am most impressed.”

Natalie turned her head and followed the progress of the other two boats as they drifted atop the calm lake waters. “I think the duke might very well enjoy a few moments in the company of Miss Wright. If anybody can find a crack in his demeanor, I think it could be her. She has a marvelous sense of humor!” Her smile took a wicked turn as she then looked down at Garrett. “Do you know how to row us around this lake, or are we to remain tied to the jetty all afternoon?”

Again, Garrett was sitting in this lady’s presence! Immediately, he corrected his manners by standing and taking hold of the nearest pillar for balance. With a courtly gesture, he beckoned her to join him on board. “I am at your service, my lady.” He reached out his gloved hand and took hold of her fingers. Although she, too, wore gloves, he could feel the delicate bones in her hands as she leaned into his assistance. He did not release her until she sat safe and secure on the boat.

“Do you have any particular destination in mind?” he asked as he untied the lines.

Natalie lounged back on her elbows and pulled one glove off. Dipping lazy fingers in the water, she let her head fall back sleepily, the parasol forgotten on the seat beside her. “We could go around the island,” she suggested.

Garrett removed his own gloves and slipped off his jacket while allowing the boat to drift aimlessly for the moment. He rolled his sleeves up before taking the oars and performing smooth slow strokes, drawing them away from the shoreline.

All the while, he considered the options before him.

If ever a gentleman was presented with an opportunity to court a lady, this was it.

Did he wish to court her?

As she leaned her head back, she must have dislodged one of the pins holding her mass of ringlets in place. Several spiraling locks came free and cascaded down to settle on her shoulders and around her décolletage. Instead of reaching for the pin to try to rearrange her coiffure, she shook her head slightly, causing even more strands to come loose.

Catching him watching her, Natalie grimaced. “My maid got carried away,” she said dryly.

Sweet Lord in heaven, this gorgeous girl was completely unaware of the seductive effect she had on him. Could she be that naïve? Even decked out in such a profusion of pink lace and chiffon, she ignited a sensual longing within him. Perhaps courting her was not such a very bad idea, all things considered.

“I find your ensemble delightful.” He complimented her as a gentleman would but did nothing to disguise a more carnal appreciation from entering his eyes. He then enjoyed her blush.

Exhibiting an unnatural wave of shyness, she pulled herself to sit up straight on the wooden bench and looked down at her lap. “Thank you.” The words came out softly. She fidgeted with some of the ridiculous lace on her skirt. “You are looking fine as well.” An impish smile formed on her mouth. “You are still allowing Marcus to valet for you?” Her eyes danced with mischief.

Garrett nodded. “I am, and I thank you for recommending him.” Realizing the small boat approached a branch protruding from the water, he took a moment to right his direction. “Why don’t you acquire a new lady’s maid?” he asked, remembering she’d referred to the servant as being responsible for all the pink and lace.

Lady Natalie touched her hair self-consciously and sighed. “My lady’s maid is both my former nanny and at times governess. She’s left behind neither role.” She reached into the water, pulled out a floating twig and used it to draw swirls in the water. “I love Tinny—Mrs. Tinsdale—it’s just I would like to find a maid who has been exposed to some fashion, a woman of my own choosing. Perhaps closer to myself in age. I feel as though it is a constant battle between us as to how I ought to present myself.” She gestured downward. “Tinny won the battle today.”

Garrett stopped rowing and regarded her solemnly. “Why don’t you tell your mother this?”

Natalie let out a short laugh. “You and I have discussed the differences in our families before. One of the—challenges of being cared for is, these people have the ability to weigh one down with their love. The love of one’s family can, at times, be a considerable burden.” She smiled ruefully. “Tinny loves me.”

“You do not wish to hurt her feelings,” Garrett surmised.

“Precisely.”

They glided along the lake in silence. Garrett continued contemplating his options. The sun was high and warm. He was glad he’d removed his jacket.

“If you were to marry”—he spoke casually—“you could experience a measure of independence.”

“Not all would agree with that opinion,” she countered. “In truth, a lady cannot know what her circumstances will be until it is too late to undo them.” She was quite serious-minded about this. “I would hope my brothers would terminate such an unfortunate alliance if it were to occur, but the law is on the side of the man. A woman becomes the property of her husband. That’s why I cannot understand my father’s eagerness to marry me off.”

Her father confused Garrett, as well. One day he seemed to be offering his daughter to Garrett, and the next he was pushing the girl into the Duke of Monfort’s damned arms. Perhaps the earl wished to keep all his…her options open.

“Your father cares for you. Perhaps that is why he imposes his will so strongly upon your marital prospects.”

Again, a long sigh. She did a great deal of that as of late. “I know. But…”

Understanding dawned. “You want a love match.”

This revelation gave him pause. Perhaps he ought to rethink his own designs upon her. He could never give her what she wanted. He found her desirable. He found her conversation pleasant, even entertaining, but he’d lived something of a debauched life until recently. He was not certain he was even capable of romantic love—if it in fact existed.

“You also want passion,” he added, perhaps to strengthen his own cause. His eyes dropped to her lips. His provocative words changed the tenor of their conversation. Both were very aware of the kisses they had already shared. The passion he’d brought to a halt.

Her chin tipped up. She held his eyes boldly. “I do,” she affirmed. “Are the two mutually exclusive, or are they one and the same?” Oh, Lord, this girl had a lot to learn.

“Yes,” Garrett responded, “and no, not at all, in my experience anyway.”

“Trade me places. I wish to row.” She could be a demanding little wench.

“Please,” he corrected her with a stern look. He raised one eyebrow and added, “Please, my lord, would you do me the favor of trading seats so I may row?”

Natalie scowled. “Yes, that.”

Garrett did not budge. He merely continued looking at her expectantly.

“Oh, fine. Please, my lord, would you trade seats with me?”

Garrett laughed and moved to one side, careful to lean inward so as not to tip the boat. Natalie edged around the opposite side, and they managed to exchange seats without mishap. She confidently took the oars and began rowing. She had obviously done this before, as she did not dig the oars into the water too deeply, but just slightly to skim the boat along.

He took the opportunity to lean back and relax. She was strong for a girl. He decided the pink made her look about sixteen. Her exertions, however, brought attention to certain attributes that were most definitely not sixteen. His eyes fixed on a droplet of sweat that clung to the top curve of her breast. And then the material of her skirt slid upwards, revealing pink slippers and smooth silk stockings.

They had rowed to the back of the island. They were completely unobserved, utterly alone.

Garrett reached forward and grasped her ankle.

Natalie stopped rowing. Her face revealed uncertainty as to how she might respond to his boldness. He knew she resented him for calling a halt to their other…encounters. Even though it was for her own good as well as his.

His touching her now was an impulsive move. He’d simply had the urge to wrap his fingers around her leg, and the next thing he’d realized, he’d done just that.

“You, sir,” she said, “are impertinent.”

“My lord,” he corrected her again.

“That, too.”

Garrett smiled. He could not remember a time when he’d last smiled this much. He leaned forward, sliding his hand to just below her knee. His fingers massaged her calf muscle lightly.

Natalie reached her foot forward. “So this”—she indicated his touch—“is mutually exclusive from love?”

Well.

That was effective.

Garrett released her and sat back on his seat. Did she want an answer?

He searched her expression.

Yes, she did.

“I believe it is.” He would not lie. “Unlike that love you told me about that controls a person and leaves them feeling guilty, passion can be exceptional on its own.” He shrugged. “I believe passion to be a benefit one ought to experience with a spouse. I believe if one vows to forsake all others, then one ought to have every intention of doing just that.” He looked off across the lake, surprisingly not sure where his words came from. “And if there is no passion within the marriage, fidelity would bring with it a great deal of sacrifice for both partners.”

This was why he avoided the idea of marriage. Unlike many members of the ton, he was not of a mind to carry on with a mistress after he’d taken a wife.

“And friendship?” she persisted. “And trust?”

Garrett lifted his shoulders to show her he’d not considered these questions. “I suppose both of those ought to exist within a marriage.”

“Well, my lord, I think if you take passion and throw in some friendship and trust, well, that then is love.” She pulled back on the oars again. “You are as much a romantic as I. You wish for love in your marriage as well.”

Garrett leaned his elbows on his knees and contemplated her. “Oh, hell.”

Natalie continued rowing, smoothly, quietly, both of them lost in thought. A few unthreatening clouds appeared in the flawless sky. Birds flitted from tree to tree, and a wisp of wind rustled the leaves.

“And where does romance fit into this ideal relationship consisting of trust and friendship and passion?” Garrett asked, breaking the silence, as though there had been no pause in their conversation.

Natalie tilted her head and closed her eyes.

“ ‘The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

but tell of days in goodness spent.

A mind at peace with all below.

A heart whose love is innocent.’ ”

Garrett chuckled. “Ah, yes, Lord Byron. That fellow has ruined ladies throughout the kingdom with his drivel.”

Her eyes narrowed at his comment.

Yes, yes, a heart whose love is innocent described Lady Natalie perfectly. He paused, before continuing:

“ ‘She walks in beauty, like the night

of cloudless climes and starry skies;

and all that’s best of dark and bright,

meet in her aspect and her eyes…’

But the lady Byron refers to has raven tresses, I believe.”

“Is that the romance you refer to, my lord?” Natalie drawled. “What do you think romance is, after all?”

Garrett raised one hand and rubbed his chin in an honest attempt to appear thoughtful. “Flowers? A waltz? Moonlit walks in the garden? Or perhaps around a lake?” He lifted one eyebrow as he made his last suggestion.

“You are hopeless, and a cynic to boot,” Natalie said in exasperation.

Garrett opened his arms wide. “At last, you understand me. Although I prefer you think of me as a realist.”

“ ‘So we’ll go no more a roving,

so late into the night,

though the heart be still as loving

and the moon be still as bright…’ ”

Natalie spoke the words softly.

Garrett knew this one as well.

“ ‘Though the night was made for loving.

And the day returns too soon.

Yet we’ll go no more a roving

by the light of the moon.’ ”

Both contemplated the words they’d spoken as Natalie continued to row.

“It isn’t all drivel, Garrett Castleton.” Natalie broke the silence.

Natalie was tired from rowing but would never make such an admission. Lord Hawthorne had tilted his head back and closed his eyes. No man ought to have such long lashes. Relaxed, sitting in the boat in his shirtsleeves, he looked both virile and vulnerable at the same time. What a pair they were! It seemed that neither she nor Lord Hawthorne knew what they wanted from one another. Well, they did not know what they wanted long term, anyhow.

When he’d grasped her leg and slid his hand along her calf, she’d had to call upon all of her willpower not to edge closer to him. A shiver ran through her at the thought of his hand travelling higher up her leg.

Jostling the boat, Garrett shifted and lay back leisurely, resting his head upon his folded jacket. He looked as though he might even fall asleep. How did men do this? Fall asleep in such uncomfortable positions? Her brothers had this same ability. It vexed Natalie that she required the perfect position, the perfect mattress and pillow to even contemplate falling asleep. Tempted to splash Garrett, she examined him instead. Relaxed, his jaw dropped the tiniest bit, parting his lips. His chest rose and fell evenly. Ironically enchanted, she noticed a small dimple just below the right corner of his mouth that she hadn’t observed before. She wanted to reach out and touch it. She wanted to kiss him there.

Of course, she would not do so. He had humiliated her enough already.

He’d advised her upon what merits a good marriage could hold. Not to himself. To some other unsuspecting gentleman, one who might allow her as much freedom as she desired.

But she would never desire a man who would allow her such control. What fools women were! What a fool she was! She wanted independence, autonomy, and yet she also wanted…something else…If she were honest with herself, she might admit she would like to know more of Garrett Castleton.

She liked his sense of humor. She liked the looks of him for certain. She liked that he was something of a rake, but she also admitted to herself that he was a gentleman. He had displayed hidden depths of honor on more than one occasion.

And now he had quoted poetry to her.

Even though he admitted to being cynical—a realist—his voice had caressed her with the poet’s words.

Natalie’s train of thought shattered as she turned the boat toward the dock and—oh, no—this could not be! Baby Bear was running wildly with Mrs. Tinsdale chasing far behind. The leading string dragged behind the pup, who easily caught sight of Natalie, his mama, out on the lake. With a new purpose and destination, Baby Bear ran to the end of the dock and took a flying leap into the water.

He sank like a stone.

Acting on pure instinct, Natalie threw herself into the water, kicking desperately to reach her tiny puppy. She didn’t feel the wet or the cold. Her Baby Bear had disappeared under the water and Natalie needed to find him, now!

Frantically reaching through the murky water, Natalie grasped the leading string and pulled the puppy to the surface for some air. In doing so, however, she lost the buoyancy her arms would have provided. She attempted to kick to keep herself from going under, but her dress had wound itself tightly around her legs.

She felt her first moment of fear when she swallowed a mouthful of water instead of air. Oh, no! If she went down, then so would Baby Bear. Her feet were bare, but as hard as she tried to kick herself free of her skirts, they gave no mercy.

And then strong hands grabbed her.

In one sweeping gush, she burst above the surface of the water. She gasped and coughed as her deprived lungs sought to replenish themselves. Baby Bear was kicking and squirming, reaching his little black nose out of the water. Only when an arm wrapped itself around her ribcage did she become aware of the security of a very solid chest behind her head.

“Don’t struggle with me. Relax and lean back. I’ve got you.”

Garrett’s voice. His deep, gravelly command infused incredible relief.

Trusting completely, Natalie tilted her head back and rested it on his shoulder. He would pull them to safety. Baby Bear crawled up her front and tucked his nose under her chin.

“That’s my girl,” he said. “Keep your head back just like that, sweetheart.” His voice reassured her as he used his other arm and his legs to pull them toward the shore. His breath caressed her nape when he spoke.

The rhythm of Garrett’s movements changed when his feet touched bottom. Not releasing her, he slogged both of them to the water’s edge. When they reached the shore, Natalie collapsed on the ground in relief, Garrett’s arm still around her. He breathed heavily, whether from his exertions or the panic of the last few moments, Natalie did not know. Like a rag doll, she sprawled helplessly face down on the shore. They both lay beached in the mud and slime accumulated there until Garrett rolled her over and studied her in concern.

“You are unhurt?” His voice sounded strained.

She could not answer right away. His gaze was mesmerizing. She liked feeling this close to him. Being held by Garrett Castleton felt safe. It felt right. She wanted to tuck her face into his neck and leave it there forever. The spell couldn’t last, however, as she was gradually aware that her precipitous leap had been witnessed by all her mother’s guests. Concerned bystanders were about to descend upon them mercilessly. Baby Bear added to the mayhem when he began barking and yelping frantically.

He was very protective.

But Natalie could not look away from Garrett. His gaze burned with emotions she did not understand—tenderness, and then fear, and…anger.

“I shall live.” She quipped. His expression remained serious—too serious. In an attempt to tease him into a lighter mood, she smiled hesitantly and added, “Good day for a swim, don’t you think?”

Garrett merely shook his head, and a dark scowl appeared.

Pushing himself away from her, he now rested on his heels. His expression lacked any amusement whatsoever. Shuddering, he took a deep breath and then scrubbed his hands over his face.

“What,” he growled through gritted teeth, “in bloody hell was that all about?” All tenderness had been replaced with fury. “You did not see Riverton had reached out to pull…Baby Bear…out of the water? You risk life and limb for a…for a…What the hell is that animal anyway?”

Natalie suddenly felt the cold.

“Hush,” she said. She reached for Baby Bear and pulled him close. The little pup stopped barking and was now shivering from head to tail. Natalie placed some reassuring kisses on the dog’s head just as her mother arrived and, in a frantic motion, threw a blanket about her shoulders. Did her mother not see that half of her person remained in the water?

“Natalie! You scared me to death! Why ever would you jump into the water like that?” She looked over her shoulder and gestured for one of Natalie’s brothers to come and assist them. Thank God it was Stone. At least he possessed a sense of humor.

“I needed to save my p-p-pup-py.” She shivered.

“Stone,” Lady Ravensdale addressed her son. “Get Natalie inside at once.” She glanced at Natalie where she still lay halfway in the water, very close to Lord Hawthorne and her lips tightened. “Along with everything else we’ve dealt with, we don’t need your sister falling ill.”

But that was not why her mother flailed in such a panic. Glancing down at her dress, Natalie saw that the pink material had turned transparent from the water. No wonder her mother had thrown the blanket over her!

As Stone swooped her up and away from Lord Hawthorne, Natalie looked back for one last glimpse of her hero. Although Darlington had tossed a second blanket on the dry ground beside him, he’d made no move toward it. The poor dear looked poleaxed. But that was not all she noticed. His white linen shirt, now plastered to his chest, revealed the stark definition of his muscular build. The sight of a man ought not be able to make a young lady’s mouth water, but what was a girl to do? It seemed his legs were not the only part of his body so well honed…