heart pumping painfully as she hurriedly smeared filming pond residue from her vision. Then she stared, horrified.
One man sat astride a grey farm horse, the other was lounging comfortably against the bole of a centuries-old oak, and was the most handsome man she had ever before seen in her life. His long, thick hair appeared jet-black beneath the shading oak. His narrow mouth was curved a little with the same mocking humour that had tinged his words, for she knew instinctively that it was he who had spoken. Peat-dark eyes were heavy-lidded and fixed on her with the same intensity that she watched him. In one hand he idly held the reins of a second rather mangy-looking horse, placidly cropping the rough grass. As his lazy gaze lowered to slowly survey her drenched form, her fists abruptly opened, dropping her thigh-high skirts into the water.
Rebecca closed her gritty, stinging eyes momentarily in utter despair. Why did disasters invariably always cluster together? Why would they never spread themselves out a bit in her life? This was too much for one day! Thank heavens five years had lapsed since she had last endured times such as this, crammed with alarm and anxiety.
The stranger astride the horse, who had fairer colouring and looked to be younger by some years, laughed down at his broad-shouldered companion and exchanged a few quiet words. Earthy eyes skimmed to her sodden bodice and aquamarine eyes lowered there too. The thin wet cotton was almost transparent and clung to her bosom like a second skin. As her breasts hardened with shame and her nipples stung she instinctively closed screening arms about herself.
She remembered Lucy, positioned somewhere behind her. Her pupil’s safety and well being were now her responsibility. Through the girl’s stupid recklessness they now found themselves stranded in soaked clothes that served only to display every feminine contour they were designed to cover. They were in the densest part of the wood, still a good way from home, with two complete strangers witnessing their discomfort.
She had never seen either of them before. She would have remembered if she had. Both were memorably good looking but the powerfully built, darker man was quite ridiculously so. She was acquainted with most people in the small communities of Graveley, Westbrook and the immediate surrounding areas. These two were probably just passing through. They might be miscreants…
The disturbing possibility possessed her abruptly, monopolising every thought. Why were they off the main track and in private woodland? Why were they dressed in finely tailored black breeches and white lawn shirts but, confusingly, in possession of horses that looked little better than tired farm hacks? She had heard fearsome gossip about young village women being mistreated by bored gentlemen out looking for diversion. Even as she thought the word, she recalled him uttering it, and her temples hammered as blood surged through her veins.
The hideous danger in their predicament forced itself mercilessly upon her and she twisted towards Lucy, wanting to reassure the girl. The expression on her young pupil’s face was the most daunting aspect of the whole nightmare situation. Excited interest was darkening and widening Lucy’s blue eyes as she ignored Rebecca and stared at the strangers on the bank.
‘Who are you? Why are you trespassing?’ Rebecca demanded tremulously of the man who still relentlessly watched her. Before he could reply she swivelled away, aware of Lucy approaching her through the water. She believed the girl to be seeking her closenesss for safety, but Lucy made to glide straight past. Catching at one of Lucy’s wet arms she attempted to detain her in the pond. Should the need arise for physical protection it would be far better to be close together. Lucy impatiently slipped her arm through Rebecca’s cold, stiff fingers and swayed herself forward. As she approached dry land, her plump arms raised and the movement caused her precociously curvaceous body to be quite deliberately outlined as she slowly wrung out her dripping dark hair.
Rebecca watched in horrified embarrassment as Lucy brushed closely past the tall, athletic figure leaning against the tree. A slight deepening of the cynical smile curving his mouth was the only reaction. His eyes remained with Rebecca. She watched anxiously as the younger man dismounted, his eyes following Lucy’s hip-swinging progress.
Fury and humiliation engulfed her. It made her wrap her arms tighter about herself and snap out, albeit it tremulously, ‘I asked you who you are and what you are doing here.’
The raven-haired man shoved himself away from the ancient oak then and walked the few paces to the pond. ‘Are you intending to stay in there?’ That deep, sardonic voice caused Rebecca to involuntarily shiver and take a step back. She attempted to dart a glance past him, desperate to see Lucy’s continuing safety from his companion.
‘I asked you who you are.’ She challenged in a fierce shaky whisper.
Her simultaneous fear and courage erased his amusement. ‘Well, why don’t you come here and perhaps I’ll tell you,’ he cut soothingly into her unsteady speech. He extended a lean, tanned hand towards her. When she still didn’t move but merely stared at it, he beckoned peremptorily.
Remaining there like a fool to defy him was, she knew, ridiculous. She forced her boneless legs forward but chose to ignore his offer of aid. She scrambled up the bank, slithering a little as her sodden skirt hampered her, and belatedly, gratefully, sought his hand, preventing herself sliding back.
A warm, firm grip pulled her to within a few inches of his tall, spare body and she could feel the heat of him warming her chilled form. Without meeting his eyes, she quickly disengaged her hand, mumbled her thanks and then felt churlish and cowardly. Besides, she wanted so much to look at him more closely. She drew a silent, steeling breath and forced herself to slowly raise her damp gold head in a semblance of pride and confidence.
Turquoise eyes fused with dark brown for a timeless moment. She wasn’t mistaken. He was as exceptionally handsome as she had thought. No warts, moles or pockmarks to mar the lightly bronzed angular planes of his face. His hair was as glossy and pitch black as it had seemed when he lounged beneath the shading oak. A small crescent-shaped scar by one thick dark brow was an imperfection yet it only served to enhance the beautifully piratical air about him.
‘Thank you for your aid, sir,’ she said, striving to casually modulate her tone. But she knew she had failed miserably when one side of his sculpted, narrow mouth lifted in a vestige of returning amusement.
‘Do you often wade fully clothed into woodland ponds? Is it a local custom of sorts?’ he teased, the humour in his eyes strengthening as they roved her damp and tousled dark honey hair.
Rebecca raised an impulsive hand to her unruly locks, realising just what a fright she must look. She stepped away from him hurriedly, aware that his outstanding attractiveness made her feel even more bedraggled than she probably was. She averted her crimsoning face from sepia-coloured eyes knowing she could do nothing to conceal her accentuated silhouette from his heavy-lidded scrutiny. She hastened towards Lucy who stood idly sliding bold glances at his companion from beneath moisture-spiky lashes.
Rebecca hastily grabbed up Lucy’s carpet bag from the ground and with shaking fingers pulled the clasp apart. She grabbed at the dry garments within and brusquely shook them out. She thrust a plain lemon day dress at Lucy, snapping in a vehement undertone, ‘Hold this in front of you.’ The undiluted anger in Rebecca’s voice and the icy sparks in her turquoise eyes made Lucy wordlessly do as she was bid. Removing a dress in the same way from her own carpet bag, Rebecca finally spun back towards the two men. She gulped another calming breath and even managed a wavering smile.
‘Thank you once more for your aid. But if you would now be so kind…my pupil and I need to dry ourselves after our mishap. I’m sure you wouldn’t want either of us to take a chill…’ Her voice trailed off as she watched a tanned, squarish jaw set as he realised he was being summarily dismissed.
‘I thought you
