C*cky Marquess by Annabelle Anders

Chapter 13

“This is scandalous,” Bethany’s newly married sister, Lady Tabetha Spencer, announced.

“Would it be any less scandalous if one of us was to drown in the Serpentine?” Bethany smoothed the shift the dressmaker had made up for their lesson—a clever design that seemed to incorporate various characteristics of pantaloons, a shift, and a loose corset.

For all her bravado, Collette looked uncomfortable, as did the other ladies, but Diana rather wished she could wear something like this all summer long. The garment designed for swimming would be ideal for riding on tall curricles. No billowing skirts to get caught in the wheels, no tight undergarments to restrict a lady’s breathing.

The plan was for their gentlemen instructors to keep their backs turned until the lady students were modestly immersed in the shallow end of the bath.

“In Brighton,” Bethany announced as she removed the matching gown Madam Chantal provided to cover the costume. “They have bathing machines so you can disrobe in private and emerge in the water.”

“One of those would be incredibly convenient right now.” Lady Tabetha said. “Keep your backs turned!” She hollered across to the gentlemen, sending her voice echoing off the large windows and high ceiling.

Although Diana had always considered her brother’s friends more handsome than most, she’d also considered them to be old and top-lofty, which had set them significantly out of reach.

And rightly so.

But seeing them lined up in nothing but tight breeches and loose linen shirts, she couldn’t help but view them in a different light. Diana appreciated such a sight as all those muscular shoulders, arms, and backs only partially concealed by the lightweight material tucked into breeches.

And exposed below those breeches, several pairs of sinewy calves and sturdy feet invited Diana’s gaze to linger, specifically, on those of the marquess, who, even backward-facing, stood out amongst all the rest.

“This end of the bath functions like a beach, so you can simply walk in… but it gets deeper quickly.” Miss Lydia Cockfield, one of the duke’s younger twin sisters, explained. Having grown up with such a unique feature in their home, the quietly dignified young woman wasn’t at all hesitant.

Her younger sister, Miss Lucinda, wasn’t joining them as she’d been invited to visit the British museums with an ardent suitor and his family.

“It’s cold!” Collette yelped.

“You’ll warm up after a few minutes,” Bethany reassured her. “Water always feels colder at first.” She’d admitted earlier that she and Lady Tabetha had spent a few of their holidays growing up down at Brighton, and though neither were expert swimmers, both were perfectly calm as they eased into the water.

Even Lady Posy and Miss Faraday said they’d waded into the lake while staying at Lord Greystone’s country estate one summer.

However, Collette and Diana’s experience with bathing was limited to the tubs that they’d washed in—and the water in those was always considerably warmer.

Collette entered, taking baby steps and making squealing sounds with each one.

“It’s easier if you submerge yourself quickly.” Mr. Spencer called out without turning around.

“Walk in until the water is waist high, and then dip down so it reaches your neck.” Lord Greystone added, sounding calm and matter of fact, his voice echoing off the tiled walls.

Diana stared into the clear water as it rippled out from where the other ladies had already entered. She was not afraid of this. Neither Lord Greystone nor her brother—nor Mr. Spencer—would approve these lessons if it meant any of the ladies would be putting themselves in danger.

The duke most definitely would not have approved their use of his swimming bath if that was the case.

And so Diana entered the bath, inhaling sharply but ignoring the cold as she moved into deeper water.

“The gentlemen may turn around now.” Miss Faraday announced.

Up to my neck,Diana reminded herself, continuing to walk forward. The cold crept up her ribcage, over her breasts, and then—

She heard a shout at the same time her foot slipped. The water that had been so refreshing and only slightly daunting a moment before swallowed her. Unfortunately, rather than hold her breath the way Bethany explained on the drive over, Diana gasped.

And that was the moment she realized she was going to die.

Panic seized her as the water burned her lungs. It was a fright unlike anything she’d ever known, and it not only terrified her but confused her—robbing her sense of up and down and which way she needed to go to find air.

Blessed, elusive air.

Strong hands lifted her from behind, and as quickly as she’d slipped under, her head emerged out of the water.

Lord Greystone.

She didn’t need to see his face or even hear his breath. She just knew it was him.

* * *

Greys’body sliced through the water a fraction of a second after her pretty little head disappeared beneath the surface.

Little fool. His heart raced as he pulled his arms through the water and kicked out behind him. She was too reckless for her own good—ignorant of her mortality and unconcerned for her own safety.

It was possible, Greys knew, that one of the ladies could assist her from the other side, but he wasn’t going to count on that.

Having barely allowed himself a full breath before diving in, he shot through the water, intent only on getting to where he could make out her chestnut strands of hair and the blue of her swimming garments. And after what felt like a lifetime, he reached out, wound his hands around her waist, and compelled them both above the surface—her coughing and sputtering and him cursing himself for not warning her not to venture too far. He ought to have known she’d do something like this—it was part of her nature; pushing limits, acting on impulse.

Greys winced as she struggled to expel the water, and an unexpected tenderness welled up when he noticed tears streaming down her face. His heart rate returning to normal, Greys edged his feet along the bottom to move her into the shallower water.

“Are you all right, Diana?” Her sister called out, eyes wide with fear, but when she moved to venture toward them, Greys held up a hand.

“She’ll be all right,” he answered. “She just needs a moment.”

Diana was beginning to breathe normally again, but Greys could tell that she wasn’t yet completely recovered. Chaswick and Spencer hadn’t been far behind him, and he was grateful that they were approaching the shallow end where the ladies hovered, preventing them from suffering a similar mishap.

“It seems my intrepid sister has discovered where the bottom drops off,” Chaswick explained, also extending a staying hand. “Best to keep back. It gets considerably deeper out here.”

With Spencer and Chaswick’s encouragement, the ladies resumed their normal chatter, but Greys kept all his attention on Diana. She was blinking rapidly and wiping her eyes. With a few dramatic sniffs, she pushed her dripping hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ears.

Greys smoothed back a few strands that she missed, noticing that they were more of a burnished auburn now.

“You should be able to reach the bottom here. Do you need to sit out for a moment?” Greys frowned. She might wish to forgo the swimming lessons all together.

But she was shaking her head.

“No. I’m fine.” She managed, forcing a smile, her voice hoarse from the strain of coughing. “That last step certainly came as a surprise.” When her reddened eyes met his gaze, however, he wasn’t fooled by her bravado. Silent tremors flowed through her frame at the same time her fingers dug into his biceps.

Even though she was more than capable of standing alone at this depth, Greys kept his hands at her waist. Her teeth chattered intermittently, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“Is it wise for her to remain in the water?” Lady Chaswick called out. “Diana, would you like some tea?”

“She’ll be fine, Bethany,” Chaswick answered and then turned to Diana. “Right, Di?”

Diana shifted her gaze away from Greys long enough to nod in her brother’s direction. “I’m fine. Swallowed a little water, that’s all. Awful stuff. It tastes like laundry soap.”

“Keeps away the fishes,” Spencer joked, inserting some much-needed levity into the moment.

“There aren’t any fishes.” Lady Tabetha pouted in her husband’s direction. “You’re not serious, are you Stone?”

“No fishes, love.” Recently married, the couple was at that point where they spoke to one another in annoyingly cooing tones. Greys ignored them, along with the twinge of something–not jealousy—but regret, perhaps as he kept a tight hold on Diana.

“Deep breath,” he advised, moving one of his hands from her side to her abdomen. She was still shaking, but not as much as she had been even a minute before. “Good girl.”

“I forgot,” she explained unnecessarily. “About the drop.”

What was it about this sweet girl? No, it wasn’t fair of him to call her a girl—not when her curves, revealed by her clinging apparel and pressed against him with every sway of the water--so easily tantalized him.

And most definitely not when she seemed to have the ability to read his thoughts.

Greys rubbed a hand through his own hair. What was he going to do with her?

“I should have made myself more clear regarding the drop.” He clenched his jaw. For some reason, he’d imagined the ladies huddling together in the shallow end. But the water was calm and welcoming. So why wouldn’t the more adventurous of them drift beyond the shallows?

“You are not at fault. And thank you.” She winced. “Going under like that was ghastly

Chaswick had begun offering up instructions with Spencer keeping watch, forcing Greys to loosen his hold on Diana. Now that she was out of harm’s way, he no longer had any excuse to keep his hands on her.

Although he was careful not to allow much distance to separate them.

“Begin by dipping your face in the water, blowing air out your nose to form bubbles,” Chase instructed before demonstrating the exercise himself.

“Now I know you are joking.” Diana’s sister was shaking her head at their older brother while he squeezed water out of his eyes.

“Not at all!” It was Diana who answered. “But be sure to blow the air out, not in, Collette.” Her voice echoed in the tiled room. “If air is going out, water can’t get in?” She turned to Greys for validation, and her grin stole his breath.

He doubted he’d ever known any other individual who welcomed new experiences with more zeal than Diana Jones.

He nodded, and Diana lowered the bottom half of her face into the water to successfully mimic what her brother had shown them. When she emerged, she all but dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Diana’s dunking all but forgotten, the ladies followed suit, and before long, they’d all mastered the beginner skill. The remainder of the lesson, which went longer than Greys had anticipated, consisted of Chaswick, Spencer, Blackheart’s sister Lydia, and himself, helping the small group of proper ladies learn how to kick, bob, and practice blowing their bubbles.

By the time they were to climb out, propriety regarding apparel was all but forgotten until Violet reminded them and demanded once again for modesty’s sake, that the gentlemen face the opposite wall again.

“That went rather well,” Chaswick proclaimed, climbing out of the pool. “Aside from Diana’s little mishap.

“Indeed.” Uneasy discussing yet another incident where she’d put herself at risk, Greys stretched his arms, standing waist-deep in the water. “Shall we make up a party at White’s for a drink and some cards?” he asked the two men in general.

“Not tonight, I’m afraid. Tabetha has made plans for us.” Spencer said.

“Family dinner at Well’s Place with Westerley, his new countess, and his mother,” Chaswick explained. Since both mens’ wives were sisters, that precluded any of them from joining Greys for their usual gentlemanly pursuits.

Greys couldn’t very well invite Blackheart, the man pretending to be his butler, to join him for cards at the club. Dashed inconvenient.

Greys could go alone, he supposed. He’d meet up with other familiars who’d be more than happy to be fleeced at a game of cards. But it wouldn’t be the same.

“You can turn around again, gentlemen,” Violet called out from the door that exited to a makeshift changing room. “Thank you for the lessons Lord Chaswick, Mr. Spencer. Will we see you for dinner this evening, Greys?”

“I believe so.” Usually, the prospect of fulfilling these types of family obligations didn’t bother him. So why would spending the evening with his cousins and aunt annoy him tonight?

Spencer and Chaswick swam to the deck and climbed out. But Greys remained.

“I think I’ll take a few laps before heading out.” The exercise might chip away at some of the discontent he’d been experiencing lately. “Good luck with the in-laws.”

The men chuckled and exited through a separate door than the ladies, leaving Greystone to swim a few lengths before stopping to strip off his shirt. If he were at Greystone Manor, swimming in the lake at his country home, he’d remove his breeches as well. But, unfortunately, any of Blackheart’s servants could return for some reason or another, or even worse, one of Blackheart’s sisters.

He lowered his head, but before swimming more than a few feet realized he was no longer alone.

Diana stood at the edge of the pool in nothing but her soaked swimming costume, which clung like a second skin to her hourglass shape. And although he had no doubt the garment had been made to be modest, the fabric wasn’t completely opaque.

“I lost one of my ribbons.”

“You lost what?” He cleared his throat, forcing his gaze away from where her pert breasts begged to be noticed through the fabric.

“My ribbon. Is that it over there? Would you mind…?”

Greys turned to where she was pointing at a blue wisp of fabric floating in the deeper part of the water. After a few slow strokes, he scooped it up and then swam back to the edge of the shallow.

“You’re going to have to come and get it.” It wasn’t what he’d meant to say. It wasn’t like him at all. And by the look on her face, the taunt was the last thing she expected.

But she didn’t seem annoyed. And as she tilted her head, with her hair damp and pulled away from her face, the natural beauty of her features nearly robbed him of his breath.

Here he was, a man destined to further the grandeur of his legacy, lacking any self-discipline whatsoever where this innocent young woman was concerned. “Never mind—"

“Very well.” She answered, and a wave of excitement swept through his body that she would accept his challenge.

God knew the moment he’d caught sight of her in the pool—even before he’d touched her—he’d craved her nearness.

Another dash-it-all to add to his day.

She stepped out of the slippers on her feet—barely-there slippers that might as well have been non-existent—and carefully entered the water where the floor gradually sloped toward him. As she did so, he braced himself, anticipating her to do something unexpected. Because she never did the expected, and that was one reason he’d had trouble dismissing her from his mind.

Even so, she caught him off guard when she deliberately slapped her hand onto the surface, sending a sharp spray of water flying at him.

Greys locked his gaze with hers. “You should not have resorted to such a juvenile tactic, My dear Diana.” But she was no juvenile. Standing thigh-deep in the water, her fist planted on her hip, chin up and shoulders back, she was all woman.

“Are you going to bring me my ribbon?” She tilted her head to the opposite side—flirtatious little minx. But, of course, she knew precisely what she was doing.

Didn’t she?

He held up his hand, the soaking ribbon dangling from his fingers. “As I said, you’ll need to come and get it.”

“You will splash me back.”

“Will I?” he cocked one brow, feigning shock.

Greys was not a man who flirted, and yet here he was. He could almost understand how perfectly respectable gentlemen devolved into rakehells. Greys oddly disconnected himself from his behavior.

She drifted closer, and while tempted to succumb to his baser needs, the noble, serious-minded part of himself looked on in disapproval.

“Don’t you dare dunk me.” She was less than ten feet away from him now, her bright eyes filled with excitement but also a hint of fear. Not real fear, but the kind one whips up for themselves by, for instance, splashing someone much larger than herself and also a far better swimmer.

Greys slinked under the water and swam near the floor of the swimming bath until he was directly in front of her, much the same as he’d done earlier when she’d swallowed half the water.

But this time, he was in no hurry to surface. Instead, reaching out, he seized her ankles, then dragged his fingertips up her calves, her thighs… barely rejecting the urge to bury his face between her legs.

He was going to hell for this. His entire legacy would go to hell for this.

Crouching beside her, he emerged from the water the moment her fingertips dragged through his hair. He paused, his face level with her navel, which showed dark through the flimsy material. For half a second, he imagined pulling her hips forward, pressing his face into her belly and then dipping his tongue into the sweet indentation.

Before he could give into temptation, he jerked his head up to meet her eyes.

“Such a gentleman,” she said. “To bring me my ribbon after all.” Her words were teasing, but her expression wasn’t.

Dazed, he offered her the soaked piece of cotton. “I’m a cad, Diana.” It was true. Because as much as he wanted her, he couldn’t court her properly. And as much as he hated himself for acting inappropriately with her, he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

He didn’t want to stop himself.

“Then I must have a soft spot for cads,” her hands cradled his jaw now, and he pulled her down into the water, wanting more than he rightfully should.

He was depraved where she was concerned. He had no business touching her.

She wound her arms around him, and her body floated into his.

What would Chaswick have to say about this? As her brother, one of his most loyal friends would have no choice but to invite Greys to meet him on a field of honor. Greys would do the same if the tables were turned. But then he remembered Chaswick had compromised his baroness.

Although the man had, in fact, gone on to marry Lady Bethany after… the incident.

But Greys was all but promised to another lady.

A very pretty, innocent lady of impeccable noble birth. How was it that none of that mattered when he was with Diana?

Drawing his siren toward him, Greys stared into her eyes. Even in the cold water, he had no chance in hell squashing this desire he had for her. He rocked his hips against her belly, much as he’d done when he’d suspended her on the bridge. Only this time, far less clothing separated them.

She settled her hands on his shoulders and then dragged a trail inward, massaging the tension from his muscles before resting them on his chest.

He wanted her. Dash it all. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman.

He could make her his mistress, set her up in a house, and provide her with lifelong security. Before the thought fully formed; however, an excess of obstacles defeated it.

“Ezekiel.” Her fingertips drifted up to his mouth. “My lord Zeke,” she teased. “Are you going to kiss me again?”

He caught her hand, turned it to the side, bit gently into soft flesh, and then pressed it to his mouth. Gone was his proper, dignified self, of whom he was most familiar.

Her legs wound around his middle, leaving but a few scraps of fabric separating his aching cock from her opening. He imagined the velvety folds of her seam. What would she feel like? What would she taste like? What sounds would she make when he buried himself inside her? Suddenly impatient, Greys captured her rosebud lips with his mouth.

She tasted clean, fresh, devoid of perfume or soaps. The water pressed in around them, and he imagined joining his body with hers.

Had he sold his soul to the devil in exchange for this enticing, bewitching, and promising predicament.

Her mouth parted, and when he dipped his tongue inside, she nipped at it.

Diana. It was the only word he could summon. This was becoming addictive.

Shewas becoming addictive. “Diana.”

Just this once, the rogue in him whispered. You’ll have a lifetime to regret her, but for now—

Just this once.

Greys tightened one arm around her, the other sliding down so he could fill his hand with the plump flesh of her bum. He squeezed, and kneaded, wanting to replace his hands with his mouth—longing to know every inch of this woman.

Intimately.

“Zeke.” Her name on his lips sent euphoric sparks racing down his spine—the promise of all this could be.

Diana.

His cock strained against her. He wanted to beg her to stop him, but that would have been hypocritical. If he couldn’t stop himself, it wasn’t fair to think she could.

He could stop himself.

If he wanted to.

He didn’t want to.

Just this once…

Her fingers trailed tantalizingly down his chest, stopping when she reached his breeches, where she teased the ridge of his length.

Greys lowered his mouth intent on claiming one breast, and then the other, exploring her curves with his hands, marveling at how perfectly she fit in his arms. He was coming to be infatuated with her—

In a very Diana-like gesture, she leaned back, clutching him with only her legs, floating on the water and moving her hips in tiny circles, creating just enough friction to drive him mad.

“Can’t you find it, Diana—?”

Greys glanced up at the same time Diana dropped her legs from around him. But whereas he was met with her sister's accusing stare, the woman he’d damn near thoroughly compromise in the Duke of Blackheart’s swimming bath slipped into the water. Greys instinctively reached for her and pulled her up, and she emerged coughing for the second time that day.

In the face of the uncomfortable silence that followed, Diana slicked the water off her face and then after wiping her eyes, turned to meet her sister’s gaze.

Greys couldn’t keep doing this. His behavior today, without a doubt, had laid waste to all his carefully made plans, but now it was threatening to change…

Him.

And that was not something he could allow.

“Er,” Miss Collette Jones stood stiffly, looking as taken aback by what she’d walked in on as Greys was.to have been interrupted. “Bethany says not to worry about the ribbon. She says you can purchase another from Madam Chantal.”

Diana lifted her chin, waded away from him, and then smoothed her gown. “I have it right here.” She held the offending ribbon in the air. Greys didn’t remember giving it to her.

He’d acted foolishly and with little regard for her virtue. Greys scrubbed a hand down his face.

“I’ll speak with your brother in the morning.” He cleared his throat. He’d sealed his fate. Was that what he’d meant to do all along?

Hell no. He simply had no restraint where Diana was concerned.

“No!” Diana whipped around, looking horrified. “That won’t be necessary.” She shifted her gaze over to her sister. “Will it be? Collette? Lord Greystone and I merely—we accidentally.” She stiffened and lifted her chin. “Nothing happened here that our brother need know about.”

Her sister glared at her and then frowned but slowly nodded. Mouth pinched, she turned toward Greys. “A visit at this point would be precipitous, My lord.”

But she was wrong. He should never have taken matters so far already. A giant fist squeezed his heart.

“Honor demands that I do.” His voice sounded tight and stilted.

“No.” Diana glared at him. “It doesn’t.”

“Yes,” he returned. On this matter, anyhow, he would be more stubborn than even her.

“I’d suggest, my lord,” her sister spoke from over her shoulder, having already taken Diana’s arm to lead her away. “That you take the gift my sister is offering you.”

And why the hell did this particular gift feel more like a punch in the gut?

Diana bent down to scoop up those ridiculous slippers of hers, and the two ladies padded out of the room without another word.

Greys stood frozen in the water, stunned in the wake of their departure.

Because Chaswick’s two sisters showed as much strength and nobility—perhaps more—than even the most well-bred of the debutantes amongst the ton.