How to Fool a Duke (The Husband Dilemma #1) - Lancaster, Mary Page 0,32

game of revenge.

He pulled back and took in the lovely sight of her, black hair hopelessly tangled from his fingers and the cooling breeze, her lips swollen from his hard kisses, her eyes wide with wonder, as were his, for he had never been this reckless.

“I am a mess,” she observed, trying to twist her hair into a loose bun. “I do not think I could explain away my appearance, even to Lady Whitmore.”

He thought for a moment, he must protect her. “There is a lake several yards from here.”

“Yes?”

“Hidden on this side by the woods.”

“I am familiar with the place,” she said.

“Forgive me.” He scooped her into his arms and rushed through the trees, ignoring her complaints to be put down. Once they reached the lake, he looked down at her, smiled, then tossed her into the water.

She landed with a splash, then surged up, waving her arms angrily, cursing him.

“Hold on, sweeting,” he called, then jumped in after her.

“You rogue!” She slapped his chest and shoulder as he attempted to pull her into his arms. “I am not an experienced swimmer,” she complained. “I could drown.”

“Sarah,” he said, standing up, the water reaching his thighs. “If you stand up…”

“Oh!” She did as instructed, glaring at him. “My gown is ruined.”

“Better than a ruined reputation,” he growled, picking her up just as a couple started to come their way. “I am sorry I pointed out the swan,” Leonard said. “I never thought you would slip in the mud, Miss Sarah. Thank God I was here to rescue you!”

“Leo,” she muttered through clenched teeth so only he could hear, “if ever I am alone with you again…”

“Yes, sweeting, I know. You will kill me for sure. But at this moment, if you could play the shaken debutante.”

She wilted in his arms suddenly and uttered a feminine moan.

“Leonard, Your Grace!” Maria Loxley raised her hand and came running. “What has happened to Miss Sarah?”

Could he never rid himself of the woman? But her usefulness at this moment could not be denied.

“I’m afraid our lovely siren has taken a fall into the lake.”

“We had better get her to the castle,” Trenton said, appearing deeply concerned.

“You are soaked to the bone, too, Your Grace. Perhaps Lord Trenton should relieve you of your burden, and I can help you get back to the castle so you don’t catch a cold.”

Leonard rolled his eyes. “Why don’t we all go together?” He did not wait for a reply, but strode toward the castle, holding in his need to release the laughter building up inside of him. He had won this battle with Sarah, though not the war. He could not remember a more enjoyable afternoon than this, nor a more pleasing sight than the wet material of Sarah’s gown, translucent and clinging to her breasts, revealing more of her than he should ever see at this point in their relationship.

But, God in heaven, she was beautiful. And to have her in his arms like this—he gave her rear a subtle squeeze, and she nearly jumped out of his arms.

Finding the tender skin of his underarm, she pinched him so hard, he yelped.

“Your Grace?” Maria came to his side. “Are you hurt? Is she too heavy for you to carry further?”

Sarah, unable to stay silent any longer, said, “Please put me down, Your Grace. I can walk now.”

***

It shouldn’t have been funny, but somehow, despite being so cold and wet, the duke’s silent laughter seemed to be infectious. She could feel his vibrating chest and shoulders through her own shivering and without the energy for anger, she had a dangerous urge to giggle. After all, “falling” in the lake was an ingenious explanation for her tousled appearance.

At least when he finally set her on her feet, she did not have to fight her body’s wayward reactions to his touch. On the other hand, she missed his warmth. And her clothing clung to her like a second skin, which was horribly embarrassing.

She could not look at Leo for fear of laughing, or at any of them for fear of blushing. So she walked faster, saying breathlessly, “You must think me very clumsy for losing my footing like that, but truly I did not expect His Grace to be quite so enthusiastic about a swan!”

“Alas,” the duke mourned, “I believe it was your own enthusiasm that caused you to turn so quickly and slip.”

“And he clearly jumped in to rescue you,” Lady Loxley pointed out.

“Waded in,” Sarah corrected, risking