Page 3 of The Christmas Ball
“Very well. But that means I’ve won.” Viola lifted her nose in the air and spread her arms wide. “I declare myself the victor—the waterwitch of Dovington pond!”
“You’ve duckweed in your hair,” Mena said, then waded back to where their piles of clothing awaited on the bank.
“Oh, Your Grace, you’re soaked through,” Dorothy said, clearly unamused by their antics. “We’ll have to dry you off with the quilt.”
She wrapped Mena in the enveloping length of cotton, but Viola wasn’t ready to leave the water. Since her chemise was already soaked, she waded a bit further and ducked down into the silky coolness of the pond. The linen floated up around her waist. With a sigh, she kicked off the bottom and let herself float on her back, gently sculling her hands and feet to stay afloat.
Above her rose a dome of cloud-flecked blue. The trees encircled the sky, and nothing marred the stillness except a sudden flight of sparrows from the nearby bushes. She smiled and closed her eyes.
Only to have the peace broken by the thud of hoofbeats, a man’s curse, a sudden splashing. Viola opened her eyes in time to see a gentleman wading, fully dressed, into the pond. Toward her.
“Hold on!” he called. “I’m coming.”
Startled, she went under for a moment, and when she emerged, he was there. The water came up to his broad shoulders, and before she could say a word, he scooped her into his arms.
“Sir!” she spluttered, trying to push away from him. “Whatever are you doing?”
“Don’t panic,” he said urgently, pulling her close. “I’ll get you to shore.”
“I don’tneedto get to shore,” she said, but he ignored her, striding through the water until they reached the pond’s edge.
His well-trained mount stood nearby, reins dangling while it munched the grass and placidly regarded the proceedings.
“This is ridiculous,” she cried. “Put me down at once! I’m perfectly fine.”
“You were drowning,” he said, a bit roughly.
She looked up into his strong-jawed face, eyes the color of twilight, hair like tarnished gold, and suddenly felt as though she couldn’t breathe.
“My lady?” He dipped his face to hers, expression concerned. He was so close she could feel his exhalation feathering across her cheek.
“I…” She blinked and attempted to collect herself. “I assure you, there’s no cause for concern. I’m a strong swimmer and was merely enjoying a dip in the water.”
“But I heard screaming.”
Oh. She felt a blush warm her face.
“I was, um. Engaged in a splash-battle.”
His brows rose. “With whom?”
As he spoke, he gently lowered her until her bare feet met the long grasses. She clutched at his arm for balance, then gestured to the far side of the pond. Mena stood there, wrapped in the quilt, staring at them. Even at that distance, Viola could make out the look of horrified amusement on her face. Behind her, Dorothy had her hands clasped to her bosom in dismay.
“My friend, over there,” Viola said, letting go of him.
“I see.” Now it was his turn to look discomfited. “I seem to have acted in error. My sincere apologies. I shall return you to your companions.”
“I’ll just swim over,” she said, but he shook his head.
“I cannot in good conscience allow you to plunge back into the pool I fished you out of, milady—whether I was in error, or no. Please. Allow me to make what amends I can, and escort you back.”
He attempted to shrug out of his coat—a difficult task, for not only was it well-fitted, but the sodden cloth clung to his body. At last he managed, then held it up for her, keeping his gaze firmly fixed upon her face. She could see a hint of dusty pink rising along his cheekbones.
With a flash of mortification, Viola realized that her wet shift was quite transparent. She stood practically naked before this stranger who had so rudely intruded upon her afternoon. If she went back into the water, she realized, it would only make matters worse.
Granted, he seemed to be trying very hard not to look at her body, but still…
She snatched at the coat, letting him drape it about her shoulders while she slid her arms through the sleeves and folded it over her chest. Covered, if inadequately, she mustered her composure and turned.
