Regency Surrender: Sinful Conquests: The Many Sins of Cris de Feaux / The Unexpected Marriage of Gabriel Stone
kissed him back, unresisting. There was the taste of woman and life and hope through the cold and the taste of salt and the hammering of the blood where his hands rested against her throat.
The wave broke against his back, pushing them both over. She scrabbled free, got to her feet and reached for him, but he was on his feet now, some last reserve of strength coming with that kiss and with hope. He put his arm around her waist and lifted her against him.
‘I do not require holding up—you do,’ she protested as they gained the hard sand of the beach, but he held on, stumbling across the sand, over stones he could not feel against his numbed soles. Then, when they reached the grass, his legs finally gave way, and he went down again, hardly conscious that he was falling on to rough grass and into oblivion.
* * *
Tamsyn stared down at the man at her feet, Adam-naked, pale, tall, beautifully muscled, his hair slicked tight to his head, his face a mask of exhaustion and sheer determination even in unconsciousness. A sea god, thrown out of his element.
You could not live on this coast for long without knowing what to do when someone was near drowned. Tamsyn did not hesitate, for all that her head was spinning and an inner voice was demanding to know what she thought she had been doing just then in his arms. She threw all the towels she had over the still body, then her cloak, dragged her shift over her head and set off at a run up the lane that sloped up past the front lawn of her aunts’ house on the left and the steep flank of Stib’s Head on the right, shouting for help.
‘Mizz Tamsyn?’ Johnny, the gardener, came out from the woodshed, dropping the armful of logs when he saw her. ‘What’s amiss?’
She clung to the gatepost, gasping for breath. ‘Get Michael and a hurdle. There’s a man down at the shore, half-drowned and freezing cold. Bring him back here and keep the cloak over him. Hurry!’
Her aunts’ cook just stared as she burst into the kitchen. ‘Get Mrs Tape, tell her we need blankets and hot bricks for the couch in the bathing room.’
She made herself stop in her headlong dash and open the door into the bathing room more slowly so as not to alarm her aunts. They were there already; Aunt Rosie, tight-lipped with pain, had just reached her armchair after the slow walk from her bedchamber, supported between Aunt Izzy and Harris, her maid. Steam was rising from the big tub, where she took the two long soaks a day that were the only remedy that eased her crippled joints. All three women looked up.
‘Tamsyn, dear, your clothes...’ Izzy began.
‘They are bringing a man up from the beach, he needs to get warm.’ Tamsyn plunged her hands into the water, winced. ‘Too hot, it will be agony, I’ll let some out and run in cold.’ She moved as she talked, yanking out the plug, turning on the tap. ‘I’m sorry, Aunt Rosie, but I think he will die if we don’t do something drastic. I’ve never felt anyone so frozen.’ Except for his mouth. ‘I’ve sent Cook for Mrs Tape and blankets, we’ll have to use the couch in here for him.’
‘Yes, of course. Izzy, Harris, never mind me—help Miss Tamsyn.’ Rosie was all practicality as usual. ‘Hot bricks, do you think? And lots of towels. Warm them by the range and then they can go on the bed to wrap him in, you must keep replacing them as they cool.’ The urgency animated Rosie’s face, even as she frowned in anxious thought. ‘Poor creature, a fisherman, I suppose.’
‘I’m heating that beef broth.’ Cook bustled in and held the door open. ‘Here they come. There’s a lot of him, that’s for sure.’
Johnny and Michael had clearly sent for help, for along with them Jason, the groom, had one corner of the hurdle while Molly, the maid of all work, and skinny little Peter, the odd-job boy, struggled with the other.
Over six foot of solid, unconscious man was indeed a lot, Tamsyn realised, as they lowered their burden to the floor. She checked the water—warm, but not hot—and pulled the cloak and towels from him. Aunt Izzy gave a squeak, Cook sucked in her breath and Molly murmured, ‘Oh, my...’
‘For goodness’ sake, stop having the vapours, all of you. Haven’t you seen a naked man before?’ As she spoke she realised that the aunts probably hadn’t, even if Cook and Molly had quite active social lives and she... Never mind that now. ‘Lift him up and lower him into the water.’
That brought him round. Cursing, the stranger flailed at the men’s hands as he was lowered into the big tub until only his head was above the surface. ‘What the hell?’ His eyes opened, red-rimmed from the salt. ‘Damn, that hurts.’ Tamsyn saw him focus on her, then his hands moved convulsively under the water to cover himself.
‘Not you, too,’ she scolded, dropping a large towel strategically into the tub. ‘It doesn’t matter in the slightest that you are stark naked. No one is looking and we need to get you warm.’
‘I apologise for my language.’ The words came out in a mumble through chapped lips that set into a tight line as he closed his eyes.
‘That is of no account either. I know this is painful, but we need to warm you.’ A sharp nod was his only answer, so Tamsyn reached into the water, took his right hand and began to chafe it. ‘Molly, you rub his other hand. And, Harris, could you help Miss Pritchard back to her room? You had best go, too, Aunt Izzy.’
‘Nonsense, we will stay right here.’ Aunt Rosie was as brisk in her manner as she was slow in her movements. ‘Johnny, ride for Dr Tregarth.’
‘Don’t need a...’ Cris began.
‘You be quiet, young man. Do as you are told and stop wasting your energy.’
Across the tub Tamsyn met Molly’s amused gaze. She doubted whether the man under their hands, who must be about thirty, had been addressed like a stubborn schoolboy for quite some time. He was exceedingly handsome in a severe way and very blond now that his hair was drying patchily. She shuffled along on her knees, dipped her hands into the water and felt for his feet, which recoiled at the touch, bringing his knees above the water and a small tidal wave slopping over the edge.
‘I’m sorry if you are ticklish. Can you bear it if we add more hot water?’
‘Yes. And not ticklish,’ he muttered. ‘Taken by surprise.’
And aren’t you cross about that, my merman? He was not used to being at a disadvantage, Tamsyn suspected. Certainly he was unused to his body not being under his complete control. She stood up to reach for the hot tap, hoping the supply of hot water would last. As she leaned across him he opened his eyes and looked directly at her.
Tamsyn realised she was wearing nothing but a linen shift that clung to her wet body in a manner that was barely decent and was probably thoroughly unflattering into the bargain. And not only was the stranger looking at her, but the room was full of male staff and a lad who certainly shouldn’t be exposed to the sight of the youngest lady of the house in such a state. She topped up the hot water and picked up the cloak from the floor with an assumption of ease. ‘I’ll just go and put on something...warmer. Keep chafing his hands and feet. Oh, there you are, Mrs Tape—can you make up the couch as a bed and get it warm, please? I’ll be back in a minute.’ She fled.
It was a perfectly calm and collected exit, on the outside. But it was flight nevertheless. Her hands were shaking as she stripped off the shift, sponged the salt from her skin as rapidly as she could, heedless of drips and splashes. Her hair, curly and wayward at the best of times, was resistant to having the salty tangles combed out, but the pain as the comb snagged and pulled was a welcome distraction.
The stranger surely wouldn’t recall that they had kissed in that hot, open-mouthed exchange of life and...well, desire on her part, she might as well face it. She couldn’t pretend it had been shock and that she had been merely passive. She had kissed him back, she knew she had. Goodness only knew what had made him kiss her. Delirium, maybe?
He probably wouldn’t recall being dumped stark naked into a large vat of warm water with an interested audience of most of their household, male and female, either. He would be lucky to survive