Furious, even. His boots were likely ruined, his clothes, especially his silk waistcoat, destroyed, and he smelled like lake water—though he may not have realized that last bit yet.
I certainly wouldn’t wait for his assistance; he was quite likely intending to pick me up and toss me into the water as repayment. I sat on the rim of the boat and threw my legs over the side so they dangled above the water.
Just as I was about to jump down, he placed a hand on my shoulder. “Miss Brinton, are you always this impatient?” His tone sounded mildly annoyed. I glanced up, ready with a quip, but water dripped from his hair, running down his face to the edge of his chin, and his white sleeves, so wet they clung to him, poured a steady trickle of drops into the shallow water below.
My remark drained away. “Yes,” I mumbled.
Lord Williams tugged the boat until it was safely on the shore, then offered me his hand. I took it and his fingers closed around mine, confident but gentle. As he assisted me off, I had the unmistakable feeling that the baron’s grip personified the man himself.
Seventeen
The moment my boots were out of danger, Lord Williams dropped my hand to tug the boat higher onto the shore.
“Thank you.” I wiped my hand in the folds of my dress, hoping to somehow rub out the eerie feeling of safety that lingered with the memory of his touch.
He left the boat and strode to a nearby fallen tree, untied his cravat, and slung it over the log. The slope of his shoulders drew my attention to the way his shirt clung to his muscular arms as he bent each leg behind him again, spilling more water from his boots onto the ground. He ran his fingers through his hair, making his shirt cling to his arms even more. He was much more muscular than his clothes, when dry, revealed. His hand dropped, displaying his clenched jaw. The muscle popped, accenting the angle of his chin, then disappeared.
A bird’s call brought me to my senses. I was staring. I dropped my gaze from his face only to discover that he had unbuttoned his waistcoat and was untying the collar of his shirt.
“What are you doing?” I flung his coat at the boat and rushed up to him, putting my hands on his chest in an attempt to keep his vest closed.
He glanced at me. “I am removing my clothes.”
“You cannot do that!”
“Miss Brinton, I will not remain in these wet things.”
I filled with apprehension. “You cannot mean to remove all your wet things.” I glanced over him quickly. Everything was soaked. Even my hands, pressing against his waistcoat, had droplets of water running down them.
Lord Williams lifted an eyebrow and a small smile curved his lips. “Oh?”
I stepped back in alarm.
He chuckled. “No, Miss Brinton. I plan only to remove those items that are unnecessary.”
My cheeks grew hot. Lord Williams would soon be standing in only his breeches. What was I supposed to do then? I had never been in a more embarrassing situation. “I assume you would like assistance in removing your boots.” I glanced down at the mud-streaked shoes and sighed. It wouldn’t matter that I had kept dry before. I was about to ruin yet another dress, only this time it was a dress I actually liked.
“Miss Brinton.” Lord Williams’s words rang with rebuke. My gaze flew to his in surprise. “My boots are filthy. I would never ask you to do such a thing.”
I stared at him. He would rather be uncomfortable than have me sully my dress? Why? This didn’t fit the man who’d told me what to do, ruined my chances of marriage, and then ensured the end of my plans through forcing my hand.
Was this a new twist in his plan?
Or . . . I frowned. Was it possible I had been mistaken?
No, nothing about what had happened could be misinterpreted. But why had he done it all? And why was he here now, acting the gentleman, when we both knew this wasn’t who he was?
A smile lifted a corner of his mouth. “If I’d known all it would take to catch your attention was a swim, I’d have insisted on a boat ride the first day.”
He was flirting with me.
My cheeks flamed. “You haven’t caught my attention.” I picked up his coat from where it had landed, half in the mud. “Your coat. It’s a bit dirty.”