Chapter 14

Chills and Warmth

"There you are!"

Bridget almost jumped out of her skin. She turned around to find the Duke approaching her with a towel slung over his shoulder.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked with a smile.

"I am not looking at you any such way," Bridget claimed. "I was only surprised because you snuck up on me. What is it you want?"

"I shall have to be charming enough for the both of us, it seems," the Duke told her.

Bridget shook her head.

"I only wanted to check on you and enquire about your ankle today. I understand that is the only thing holding you back from going on walks with me, and I hope it will be healed soon."

"I appreciate your concern," Bridget offered. "It still causes me some discomfort, but I shall be able to walk soon, and I will not need a chaperone."

"You know where I am if you need me," the Duke said.

"Yes, I do, so I shall come to you if I need something, and you will not need to come and bother me. I assume you are going for a swim."

"I am," the Duke said with a wistful smile. "Oh, it is beautiful out there. It might be the highlight of my day. You must come with me."

He said it with such assurance that Bridget almost agreed immediately. "No, it would not be right."

"Of course, it would be right, and you need not worry about anything untoward. We can swim on opposite ends of the beach if you like."

"I'm not sure," Bridget replied. "My ankle is still a little sore."

"Then it will be the perfect thing for it. Whenever I am sore, the chill of the water always relieves any aches and pains. You have not been able to ride your horse since your accident, and that must frustrate you. There is something about walking into the cold water that is as freeing as riding at full speed." The Duke held out his hand to her. "Come with me, and you won't regret it."

Bridget took his hand as if under his spell. "I have missed riding."

"Then it is settled. We shall swim to work up an appetite before supper."

Bridget expected him to make some comment about them being in swimwear or alone on the beach, but he did not. She didn't know if that meant she should trust him less.

She snatched her hand back when she realized he was holding it in the middle of a hallway that someone could walk down at any moment.

"I need my swimming apparel," she muttered.

"Not a problem. I shall meet you at the beach when you are ready."

"Fine," Bridget said.

She took some comfort in the fact that he had not forced her, and she did find some appeal in replacing her horse rides until her ankle healed fully.

She went to her room and changed into her swimming outfit, wearing a long robe atop. Then, she found a towel and snuck out of the house without anyone seeing her. That was another forewarning that should have told her she was tempting fate, but she was on her way, and there was no turning back now.

At the beach, she found a small pile of clothes and the Duke's towel. She looked down at the water and found him already swimming. That made her feel even more comfortable—he had not been waiting for her to undress and go in.

Bridget stripped down to her bathing gown and placed the rest of her clothes and the towel on the sand next to the Duke's pile. She placed a swimming cap over her head and stuffed her long hair beneath it.

Then, she took one look behind to make sure no one had followed her to the beach, and she strode down to the water.

The Duke waved to her mid-stroke as she approached, but he did not stop. She waved back and stepped into the water. There was a rush of vigor as the cold bit at her ankles, but the shock was a welcome one. The Duke had been right. There was something about entering the cold water that took her breath away in the same way as riding her horse.

Bridget walked deeper into the water, and the coldness rose up her body. She did not have to go as far out as the Duke, and she plunged under before coming back up. She swam parallel to the shore, just as the Duke did, but she was in shallower waters.

Bridget swung one arm after the other, gently kicking her feet. She did not feel any pain in the water but did not want to push herself. She quickly found her rhythm and flew through the water like a dolphin.

It became euphoric, pushing herself faster and faster, using her arms to increase her speed. She turned multiple times, going back and forth across the length of their part of the beach, and her appetite was thoroughly worked up.

She did not want to admit the Duke was right, certainly not to his face, but it had been a good decision to go out into the water.

When she had swum enough, she kicked only her legs, treading through the water as she got her breath back. She looked around and saw the Duke heading back to the shore, but not in her direction. She would have been irritated if he had come straight for her, but she became irritated now that he seemed to be ignoring her.

Bridget started back toward the shore, too, and when the water was shallow enough, she stood up and walked—her ankle didn't hurt.

The Duke was not far in front of her, and she followed him back toward the shore. She did not know what came over her as she bent down and splashed the Duke with water.

The Duke turned to face her with an amused look on his face. For a moment, Bridget felt like a child again—the Duke had teased her enough that she decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. Yet, she knew he would fight back.

Once realization of what she had done sank in, she gasped. She gasped a second time when the Duke splashed her back.

Bridget was not one to shy away from a challenge, and she instantly started splashing the Duke, and at the same moment, he started splashing her. They flung water back and forth, and would have both become soaked if they were not already from swimming.

Bridget laughed as she tossed water at the Duke, and she could hear him laughing through the splashing water, too. The swim in the cold water had been euphoric, and there was a release in playing in the water with the Duke. Bridget laughed again, but this time at the image of a duke splashing in the water. It became the funniest thing she had ever imagined.

Then she saw his face as he came closer to her. She did not know if he meant to splash her more, but she became very aware that she was on the beach alone with him. It frightened her a little.

"I'm cold. I must get back to the shore," Bridget said.

She turned quickly and walked back to the sand, hoping the Duke would give her some room.

As soon as she got back to her clothing, she found herself shivering with the residual cold of the water. Bridget wrapped her towel around herself and sat down with her legs pulled up to her chest. Her body shook as she looked past the Duke toward the horizon. It was not only the cold water that brought tremors to her body, but the stress of the wedding, her mother trying to protect everyone, and her father trying to ruin everything. Couple that with meeting Margaret's betrothed and trying to play nice with the Duke, and it was a cocktail of strain.

The Duke had given her some space but soon approached and grabbed his towel to dry his hair.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes, of course," she replied. "It was a silly water fight."

"I don't mean that. You are shivering and will catch your death if you stay out here."

"I need a moment," Bridget claimed. "I need to think."

She needed to make sense of what she was feeling.

The Duke sat on the sand beside her, and he smelled so good—the saltiness of the seawater mixing with his musk. She flinched when he put his arm around her, even if it did bring her instant warmth. She should have run back to the house, but she needed something calming in her life, and even though the Duke infuriated her, his embrace calmed her body and quietened the shivering.

"You don't have to stay with me," Bridget told him.

She was more conflicted—she knew she should be alone but did not want the Duke to leave.

"I'm not sitting here for any other reason than to help warm you," the Duke said. "You might think I am here to take advantage of you, but I am not. I gave you space in the water, and I will give you space now, but I know you need support in whatever you are going through."

"I do," Bridget admitted.

The Duke had been a gentleman again, even if he was sitting with his arm around her.

"Take some time," he said. "When you are ready, you can go back in, and I will follow later. It is not my intention to cause you any embarrassment."

"Is it not?" Bridget asked.

"Not embarrassment, but it is fun to tease you a little."

Bridget tried not to react—she did not want to show any weakness in front of him. "I am really not in the mood to be teased when I have my entire family to worry about."

The Duke didn't respond immediately—he rubbed her shoulder gently for a while before he said, "You carry the weight of your family on your shoulders, even more than your mother. I know your father is an alcoholic, but that is not your problem to deal with."

Bridget wanted to snap at him and tell him to stay out of her business, but how could she when she knew he was right?

"He's not only an alcoholic, but a gambler too. I wouldn't be surprised if he paid women to be with him. He does everything he should not do to harm this family, and I can't sit back and not worry about that. I can't not worry about Mother, whose husband has sabotaged our family, or about Margaret, who would be devastated to find out what her father is really like. It is for the best that he is gone, and I hope he does not return."

Bridget clamped her mouth shut before she revealed that the only reason her sister was to marry his brother in the first place was to solve their family's financial problems.

The Duke did not say a word. He kept his arm around her, sharing his warmth.

Bridget felt her face flush, both with the warmth and the horror of what she had just said to a man who irritated her so much. She wanted to tell him that he was just the same—a man who gambled, drank, and womanized—but she bit her tongue.

"Did you speak to my father?" she asked, wanting a reason to lash out at him. "Is that why he left?"

"No," the Duke replied.

"He must have left because of what I said to him. I don't know if I talked sense into him or if he didn't want to listen to me anymore. It doesn't matter—good riddance."

Bridget started to cry, and she wanted to run from the Duke, but she found him comforting, especially when he held her tighter.

"It's all a mess," she whimpered. "Oh, I am such a fool! What am I doing out here?"

"You don't have to leave," the Duke told her.

"I do need to leave," Bridget countered. "Am I trying my best to be caught up in a scandal just like my father? Just like you?"

The Duke smiled sadly.

"I am out here, wet and shivering with your arm around me, and I will not let you take advantage of me in this state. I thank you for inviting me to go swimming, but I must leave."

Bridget shrugged his arm off her and gathered her belongings. She wrapped her robe over the towel and made for the house.

She had never been so embarrassed in her life. She was supposed to be on her best behavior so as not to spoil the wedding in any way, and she had gone and told the Duke all about her father.

She had half a mind to lock herself in her room so she would cause no more problems.