Page 7 of The Spinster's Secret Scoundrel
Nigh impossible, if he was being honest.
The money from this run was supposed to let him set himself up as a prosperous gentleman, or at least a property owner, here in Cavalier Cove, where he would fit right in with the townspeople who dabbled in the trade.
He was ready to stop haunting the seas and start living as a man instead of a phantom.
One of these days, he’d be caught, and Thierry was too handsome to die. Rémy always laughed at the idea of finding a comely lass to settle down with and raise children, but considering how he’d been raised, it was Thierry’s fondest wish to give his offspring the kind of respectable, carefree, happy childhood he’d never experienced. Cavalier Cove seemed as good as place as any to set himself up.
“You fool of a smuggler,” Ada seethed. “Extracting that boat before the tide submerges the entire cavern is going to be nigh impossible. I agreed to take a cut of the proceeds in exchange for my assistance. I did not agree to drown while fixing your stupid mistake!”
She was rightly frightened. If they didn’t get inside that cave within the next few minutes, and the boat out soon thereafter, they would have a difficult time escaping themselves—and she likely couldn’t swim well enough to fight the incoming tide.
“Considering it’s your fault I’m in this situation, the least you can do is get down into the cave with me and help push it out.”
“My fault?” she repeated through clenched teeth. “How is any of this my fault, Thierry?”
Her growl of aggravation was almost worth the lost time. At this point, every second counted. “Yes, your fault, Miss Naughton. Were it not for your blade and your geese—”
“They aren’t my geese—”
“But it was your blade at my throat, so cruelly drawing blood and staining my collar—”
“I should’ve thrust harder,” she interrupted.
“I shall be glad to give you every opportunity to do so, once we’ve saved my cargo.”
Her jaw dropped. “I meant, with the knife.”
Despite the high stain of color on her cheeks, Thierry didn’t get the sense that his reluctant hostess was entirely innocent. Fascinating. Everything about her intrigued him. Under other circumstances, he might stick around to find out why a pretty young woman lived alone in a cottage with too many geese, like some character in a fairy tale.
“As I was saying, it’syourfault I was delayed in making my way to Viscount Prescott’s, where I might have found assistance with retrieving my boat, so now I must press you into service, Miss Naughton. In we go.”
He toed off his unlaced boots, placed them high on the beach, then removed his hat, jacket, waistcoat, shirt, and belt. Clad in only his trousers and undershirt, Thierry gestured for Ada to hurry up and do the same.
“No amount of money is worth this,” she grumbled, nonetheless discarding her boots, stockings, apron, dress, and petticoat.
“I’ll double your share if you go in now.”
In her shift and stays, Miss Naughton stomped into the water. Salty green-gray waves swirled around the shapeliest calves Thierry had seen in some time. Within seconds, a swell soaked the thin fabric of her underthings and gave him a splendid view of her buttocks before her body was swallowed by the surging water.
It would be a tragedy to allow such a comely specimen of womanhood die in a waterlogged cave. He resolved not to let that happen.
Thierry stood at the cavern entrance. It was shorter than he, but the interior was tall enough for him to stand upright. The frigid water came up to his waist.
“Watch the waves. Look for a good one, then duck as far under as you can. The bottom, as I’m sure you can feel, is rocky. There will be just enough space for us to go under the boat and stand up on one side. Brace it away from yourself. We’ll push it out together.”
“This is absolutely the worst idea anyone has ever had,” Ada complained, her teeth chattering. He ignored her pessimism.
“Let’s make this quick.”
Thierry reached into the cave, grasped the stern and braced the dinghy to prevent it from bashing her head when she came up. Rough rock sawed at his bare skin. He gritted his teeth.
Ada inhaled sharply and dove beneath the surface. The sea fought to tear the wooden vessel out of his hands, but he held fast, dug in his heels, and held on with all his might.
“I’m in!” her voice echoed a moment later.
“Excellent. If you’ll kindly push the boat against the wall and hold it there so I don’t get my head smashed when I come up, I’d be most obliged.”
Adeline mumbled something he couldn’t quite make out, but sounded suspiciously likeyou’d deserve it.He chuckled. She was a feisty one. Mistrustful, but not humorless. Who could blame her, really, a woman living alone? Thierry was perfectly cognizant of the fact that plenty of men were as trustworthy as a medium-sized woman like Ada could throw them—which was to say, not far at all.
