Banished to Brighton by Sydney Jane Baily

Chapter Nine

Glynnis could hearyelling, which seemed uncalled for since she was close to the shore. It wasn’t as if she were out on the ocean in a tiny boat, capsizing to her imminent demise.

However, an especially large wave crashed against her bathing machine. More slowly than she thought possible, it began to tip farther and farther, causing her to scramble up the slanting floor. She watched as all her clothing fell into the water, along with her boots and her bonnet from the shelf.

“Dammit!” It felt good to swear aloud, knowing no one could hear her.

Water flowed in from the corner of the hut and under the door. The gathering weight of it snapped the smaller front wheel until the bathing machine went completely over onto its side, and Glynnis along with it. Worse than that, she was plunged into darkness as the hole in the roof was now underwater allowing the rest of the sea to rush in.

The horse — still attached as she could hear while her head was above water — was frantically pulling and dragging but going nowhere. And then somehow, it had gone, perhaps cut free so it didn’t drown.

Drown!

Panic sliced through her as the chilly water, seeming even colder in the darkness, rose swiftly higher. On its side, the seven-foot-long cabin was only as high as its width. Five feet she would guess, maybe four. And it was filling with water, even with both doors closed.

Scrambling toward the wall which was playing the part of a ceiling, she feared the hut would be completely underwater in another few seconds.

***

JAMES HAD NEVER CAREDfor bathing in the sea, at least not with others splashing around. If he were going to have a hearty swim, he liked doing so in a clear lake, stretching out over the yards at a good clip and back again.

He also most assuredly didn’t like the feel of his suit becoming soaked with salt water, but that was precisely what would have to happen as he watched Miss Talbot’s infernal bathing machine tip over. No one else was rushing to her rescue. All the dippers seemed more concerned with the blasted horse, which was undoubtedly an expensive part of their daily endeavor.

For his part, he could not imagine a world in which the saucy chit didn’t return from her little ocean adventure to smile at him and twinkle those deep-brown eyes.

Tossing his hat up the beach, he rushed the few yards into the cool water where the submerged hut rested on its side. Both the sea and the hut came up to his shoulders. The front door had floated open by his knees, and it was easy enough to take a deep breath, dive down, and swim inside.

Almost at once, he collided with Miss Talbot’s figure and grabbed hold. By God, she was bare as a needle!

Hauling her against him and dragging her upward, they were both bobbing above the water, catching their breath in the small, dark space.

“Don’t panic,” he told her.

“I assure you, I am not, but my clothing has all floated away,” Miss Talbot said, and plainly her teeth were chattering. More than that, where his fingers touched her slippery-smooth skin, he could feel her shivering.

“I hope that hideous bathing costume has disappeared, too,” he said, trying to make light of a somewhat frightening situation.

“That is not at all amusing,” she hissed. “I shall owe the woman money for it!”

“Can you be serious? That hardly seems important.”

Suddenly, the entire contraption moved, and he knew they were being dragged closer to shore. Light was even then coming in, meaning the water was below the level of the open door.

So close, she glanced at him, water dripping off her lashes and her hair, which was floating all round her. Unfortunately, her lips, usually a pretty shade of pink, were turning a little blue.

His hands ran up and down her arms to warm her before his fingers skimmed her waist, drawing her closer. Somehow, her body was curling toward him, and he clasped each cheek of her round bottom, tucking her hips against his.

“It’s like I’ve caught my own mermaid,” he quipped.

They stared at one another in silence. Then before he let himself think better of it, he leaned forward and kissed her.

The salty kiss didn’t last long as they were jarred by the hut’s movement across the pebbled seabed, and he didn’t know if it helped her to feel any warmer, but heat had certainly shot through him. Holding her bare, silken body, he was fiercely aroused at a plainly inconvenient time.

Drawing back, he opened his eyes as she did, bobbing before him, and then, to his amazement — and gratitude — her breasts became visible above the lowering seawater, showing him her nipples like ripe cherries, pert and dark.

“Hargrove,” she warned, but her tone was breathless, and she didn’t release the hold she had on his arms.

“If you swim in the sea like a fish,” he said, “you must prepare to be caught upon a man’s pole.”

Thinking himself rather clever — especially as his cock was stiffer than a fishing pole, more like a flag pole! — his remark was met with a rolling of her eyes.

“You must give me your coat at least.”

“Sadly, my coat will cover your sweet arse,” he said, “but not the front of you.”

And as the water level dropped, he could see more and more of her, including a trim waist and the flare of her hips. She was quite glorious, but he didn’t want the rest of Brighton getting an eyeful.

Looking around the cabin, he saw the infernal felt bathing dress floating nearby.

“Put this on again.” Before she could protest, he tugged it over her head and helped her get her arms into the long sleeves.”

“Oh!”she yelped.

“What is it?” He had probably tugged her hair by mistake.

“I felt something brush against my ankle.”

That gave him pause, but he said, “Nonsense!”

A moment later, he thought he felt something graze his leg, too.

“I think we should get out of here and not wait for them to drag us up the beach. With all this heavy water, it will take them forever.”

Turning in the small space, he ordered her, “Take a deep breath,” and then put his hand on the top of her wet head. Quickly ducking her under the sideways door, he gave her a shove ahead of him before following. Both of them only had to be under the water for a few seconds.

He swam toward shore, tugging her along while she kicked and flailed her hands, until he could get his feet under him.

“You can stand now, Miss Talbot,” he advised, but she seemed incapable of hearing him and continued to thrash. Sighing, he bent down and tried to lift her, thinking it an extremely chivalrous thing to do. He would be a hero, indeed, if he carried her from the water.

’Zounds!A wet woman in an ugly felt bathing dress was heavy! Of course, the ugliness of the garment had nothing to do with it, but it added to the general unpleasantness of the whole experience, as far as he was concerned.

Eventually, he managed to help her to her feet, and they walked out of the sea with his arm around her waist. Away from the water, he lowered her to the pebbly sand where she closed her eyes and breathed hard.

“Shall I perform artificial respiration?” asked a man whom James knew to be Lord Dodd. “Mouth-to-mouth,” he added, “as recommended by the Paris Academy of Sciences, eh, wot-wot?”

Before James could answer, a dipper chimed in.

“Just toss her onto one of these horses, stomach down, her limbs a-hanging. Run it along the beach, and she’ll be breathing in no time.”

Miss Talbot’s eyes popped open at hearing those words, and then she sat up.

A few people cheered.

Gazing up at James, she said, “Take me away from here, please.”

He nodded, and pulled her to her feet. A few more people cheered.

“I hope I will still see you at the dance tonight, Miss Talbot,” Lord Dodd said, and James was ready to send him flying with a punch to the nose.

“If the lady is up to it,” he said. Undoubtedly, irritation had taken hold of him due to the impossibly uncomfortable sensation of wet hose, shoes, pants and everything else. He longed to strip it all off.

“Let’s go,” he said to her, thinking Miss Talbot’s complexion looked good all things considering, but she was still shivering. He thought to remove his wet coat to drape around her, but that was senseless.

Instead, with her arm tucked under his, he started across the beach.

“My gown!” she suddenly exclaimed. “I was going to gather all my lost clothes, but you shoved me out of the bathing machine.”

Could she be blaming him for the loss?

“I cannot believe I’ve lost my parasol and my clothes in one day,” she continued.

“At least you didn’t lose your life,” he pointed out.

Suddenly, there was a cry behind them to wait. It was a female dipper. “This was still caught in the bathing machine,” the woman said, and she handed Miss Talbot a sodden mass, on top of which was her ruined bonnet.

James examined it with her. “That’s not your gown, surely.”

“No,” she agreed. “My stays and a chemise. Oh, and a single glove. Hurrah!”

“At least it’s something,” he pointed out.

Showing better sport than he would have imagined, she plonked the bonnet on top of her tangled wet hair.

“Thank you,” she told the dipper before turning away.

“Here now,” the woman added. “I’ll need that bathing dress back. Or you can buy it from me.”

James watched Glynnis halt. Then she looked skyward a moment, collecting herself. Finally, she said, “I assure you I have no interest in buying this fine garment, nor am I stealing it. As soon as I am properly clothed, I will return it to you.”

“Well,” the woman began.

“I shall vouch for her,” James said, trying not to laugh at the ridiculous notion of Miss Talbot wanting to retain the hideous, shapeless frock.

He took her elbow, but they got hardly more than a couple feet farther up the beach when for the second time, she yelped.

“A pebble,” she said, “right under the sole of my foot.”

It seemed to be the straw that broke Miss Talbot’s proverbial camel’s back as she realized yet another loss.

“My shoes,” she moaned, turning tear-filled eyes up to him. “Where are my shoes?”

He glanced back at the dipper.

“Did her shoes wash up?” he asked the woman.

Immediately, she called over her shoulder to one of her associates.

“Did you find this lady’s shoes?”

After a brief hullabaloo, in which the word “shoes” was called up and down the beach, a boy ran over with a single leather slipper.

“Where’s the other one?” Miss Talbot asked.

The boy shrugged. “Dunno, miss. Only seen this one.”

James watched her take it with a shaking hand. Her lips were looking blue again, and she was shivering more fiercely.

“You have other shoes, don’t you?” he asked, thinking it best to get her indoors quickly.

Looking miserable, she nodded. Wordlessly, she handed him the rest of her dripping bundle before she bent over, drew up the gown and slipped on the shoe, giving him a nice view of her slender ankle.

Glancing away, down at the garments, somehow the stays were on top again. He swallowed.

“How mortifying!” she exclaimed, snatching it back from him and beginning the trek over the pebbles again toward the street.

James remembered his hat.

“Just a moment, Miss Talbot,” and he jogged back to where it still lay upon the pebbles and set it on his head. When he rejoined her, he felt less undressed.

“At least my hat was saved,” he crowed, then wished he’d kept his mouth closed as her lips pressed momentarily into a thin line of dismay.

“What about my reticule I gave you for safekeeping?” she demanded, then held her hand out.

He blinked. Reaching into his coat pocket, he withdrew it. Slowly, he handed her the soggy purse. The fine silk, he warranted, was ruined.

“I hope as with your other reticle there was nothing of much value in it.”

She gave a massively long sigh.

Just as they climbed to street level, she struggled to tug on her single glove and slide the strap of the reticule onto her wrist while still holding her stays and chemise.

“That’s better,” she declared.

He would rather be flayed alive than tell her it wasn’t. In fact, she looked even stranger in her bedraggled state, her hair hanging snarled down her back, limping slightly because of the single shoe, wearing a bathing dress, a single white lace glove, and a reticule dangling from her arm.

Poor Miss Talbot!

***

GLYNNIS CONSIDEREDher losses as she hobbled along the rather rough track atop the cliffs toward the Old Ship — a day dress, shoes, a bonnet, a purse, and stockings. And maybe her stays were ruined, too! And the loss of her parasol to boot.

She feared she would have to move from her current lodging into the Lanes, as the center of Brighton’s old section was known. Not only flint cottages which housed the workers servicing the more prestigious areas of Castle Square, East Street, North Street, and, of course, the Steyne, the Lanes were also home to brick and cobble buildings filled with public houses and small shops. Perhaps she could get a room above the Cricketers Arms or the Black Lion, although she wouldn’t be able to tell anyone in the Prince Regent’s group of friends where she was staying.

A sob welled up in her throat, but since Hargrove was still by her side, she shoved it down again. The viscount had grabbed her person most improperly inside the overturned bathing machine, although she’d been relieved to see him while still deciding how terrifying her situation was. When his head had appeared in her underwater grotto, she knew at once she was not going to die.

Nevertheless, instead of making her all tingly with his caresses and then shocking her with a kiss as he’d done, she dearly wished he had helped her reclaim her dress and stockings before they had been swept out to sea.

Yet that kiss!It had been rather spectacular, warming her completely, at least for a moment. Looking at him out of the corner of her eye, she wondered how he could take such liberties without a by-your-leave beforehand, nor an apology after.

The answer was obvious — he was decidedly a rake, one who didn’t mind kissing an engaged woman.

Perhaps he wouldn’t mind helping her, too, yet she couldn’t imagine how. The one thing she could never do was stoop to asking for money. Naturally, she would accept it if offered, but she would never lower herself by asking.

Besides, how could she ask anything of him while appearing so bedraggled, like something the cat dragged in? After all, Hargrove looked in shabby shape despite his dry hat, so she could only imagine how wretched was her own appearance. She wished she’d never thought dipping in the sea would be a good way to attract a man.

True, Lord Dodd had expressed an interest, but it had cost her greatly to secure a dance later that evening. Almost her life! And she couldn’t go anywhere that night unless she paid the hotel concierge extra to supply her a hot bath. Her account at the Old Ship was growing to dizzying heights.

She spared her rescuer another glance. Lord Hargrove was whistling to fill the silence in his quaint, off-key manner. And then she had a most outrageous and wonderful thought.

“How many bedrooms do you have in your rented house, my lord?”

“Three,” he answered without hesitation, before swinging his attention to her. “Why?”

“Do you have plenty of hot water?” she asked.

“Hot water?” He looked perplexed.

“Yes, for baths and such. The inn is woefully short of it. I fear if I have another cold bath, I shall become ill.” She coughed delicately before adding, “You may have noticed my delicate health of late.”

Frowning, he nodded. “I wondered at your pale complexion and your fainting spells. At first I attributed both to a lack of appetite. However, when I saw you eat so heartily, I knew it wasn’t lacking, merely being ignored.”

“Not ignored.” Glynnis coughed again and looked at him from under her lashes. “I haven’t felt well enough to eat at the proper hours. I am entirely unsettled. And the inn is drafty.”

“That’s a pity. I will speak with the manager if you wish. I’m sure we can get you a hot bath.”

“Perhaps,” she mused, then cocked her head. “I was just thinking that you have so much space while I have only a room. If I were to move into your house, I could have all the comforts of home and remain under your protection as the Prince Regent requested.”

She’d hoped the suggestion would at least appeal to his baser nature. He might be able to capture another glimpse of her bare skin, which he seemed to have greatly appreciated inside the overturned hut.

Doing her best to seem appealing despite the ugly felt gown and her bedraggled state, she offered him a winsome smile.

For a moment, given his expression, Glynnis thought she might have succeeded in gaining access to the viscount’s plummy residence.