Chapter 35

35

“Stop!”Jane’s voice echoed. “Halt!”

The figures on the far side of the river were just within her sight. Thorne, clutching his pistol, exchanged words with Richard. At Jane’s side, Hercules whimpered, his ears perked, eyes locked on Thorne. His tail twitched with excitement as he paced uneasily beside her. They had found themselves marooned on a small river spit.

The area bore the unmistakable signs of frequent flooding—trees sprouted from the river itself, some even a good distance from the bank.

Jane grappled with the mystery of how she found herself here, on this side of the river. She had “borrowed” a gig from Thorne’s stable, her initial plan being to head towards Hampstead Heath. She hadn’t, however, considered the size of the heath, or the numerous rivulets that crisscrossed it, ultimately forcing her to abandon the gig and tread the remainder of the way on foot. The area was marshy, a wild tangle of undergrowth she’d had to navigate.

And now, here she was, all too aware that she may be too late.

“Stop!” she cried again.

Her voice might not carry across the two hundred feet of water that separated them. The wind, though, was her ally, wafting fragments of their conversation her way. She could make out Richard and Thorne, but they were oblivious to her calls. Brace, Morgan, and Tristan were visible, too, along with Preston and Sebastian.

She had to cross the river, intervene, stop them.

As Richard gripped his pistol tighter, Jane stepped into the murky, reedy water. “No!” she protested.

In a near mimicry of her, Hercules barked loudly, plunging fearlessly into the water, his little head bobbing above the surface as he paddled towards the other shore.

“Damnation!” Jane exclaimed. “Blast!”

As if in response to her call, Brace commanded, “Walk!”

Her brother and Richard paced away in opposite directions, their steps mirroring each other in rhythm.

That was when Jane knew she had to make a move. Despite not having swum in a while, she knew Thorne’s swimming lessons from their summers in Rosewood would serve her well. She plunged into the river, the icy grasp of the water crawling up her legs, her dress growing heavy. Then, she was swimming, pushing through the water with sheer determination.

“Thorne! Richard!” she tried to call out, but it was a struggle, her lungs working hard to keep her afloat and moving.

Ahead of her, Hercules barked again as if echoing her sentiments.

A tug on her skirt stopped her midriver. She kicked forward, but something had snagged her dress. She glanced down, but the muddy water revealed nothing. She took a deep breath and plunged underwater, cold seeping into her skull. Reaching down, she found the culprit—a broken tree branch.

She yanked at it desperately, her lungs protesting for air. Panic clawed at her heart, fear freezing her blood. She broke the surface of the water, gasping for breath. What if, while she was trapped, one of the men she loved was killed?

She looked back at the bank. They were still alive. Thorne and Richard held their positions. Thorne’s pistol was aimed at Richard, while Richard’s arm pointed towards the sky.

Hercules, having reached the opposite bank, barked loudly, drawing all attention.

The heads of all seven men turned to him. Thorne’s and Richard’s pistol-bearing arms both fell. Thorne ran to Hercules, and she could hear him saying, “What are you doing here, pal?”

Hercules turned his head to Jane and kept barking.

Then her brother’s and Richard’s eyes found her.

The color drained from their faces as they sprinted towards the river, desperately jostling for position with each other like two kids trying to climb a staircase at the same time. “Jane!” they both cried. “Jane!”

“Jane, swim, darling!” cried Thorne. “You know how!”

“Jane, hold on, I’m coming!” cried Richard.

Then there was loud splashing, and Richard and Thorne were both in the river, working their way through the water, hurrying to her. She’d managed it; she had stopped their silly duel!

“I’m fine. It’s this damn tree!” she cried.

She desperately needed to free her skirt of its thorny entanglement so she could swim away. Taking a deep breath, she dived beneath the icy surface again and reached for the hem. The river’s murky water muffled the sounds around her as she tugged at the fabric, but it wouldn’t give. Fear welled up in her chest as she realized that escape may not be so easy, after all.

Then she thought perhaps she could break the branch. It was quite thick, but maybe she’d be able to.

She sank even farther, clasped on to the branch with both hands, and pulled, gritting her teeth. It felt like her lungs were caving in under the pressure of holding her breath. She thought about Richard—the future they could have together if only she managed to snap this piece of wood. With one final push and a silent prayer, she used all her strength to bend the branch until it finally broke.

She was free. She’d just started to push herself up to swim to the surface when strong arms grasped her around her waist and pulled.

She emerged into the coldness and the delicious freshness of the air, opened her mouth, and sucked in as much as she could, splashing with her arms to keep herself afloat. She looked around. Both Thorne and Richard were there, Richard’s arms still firmly around her waist, holding her up as he spat out some murky water. Thorne’s face was stern and furious, and both men’s wet hair clung to their foreheads, water dripping from their chins and eyelashes.

She kept breathing, gasping in and out when she turned to the shore. Hercules was barking on the bank, his tail rhythmically wagging from side to side. Preston and Sebastian, as well as Thorne’s three lieutenants, stood ankle-deep in the water, staring at her and at the two men who swam around her.

“Are you all right, Jane?” asked Thorne.

“I’m fine,” she said when she could catch her breath. “Now that I know you two aren’t going to kill each other!”

Thorne and Richard exchanged glares.

“Come on, love,” said Richard. “Let’s get you out of the water.”

He was so strangely handsome, wet, and vulnerable and yet incredibly alluring. Maybe it was the way his white shirt clung to his strong neck…

“Can you swim?” he asked.

“Of course I can,” she said. “And there was no need for either of you to jump into the water. I’m perfectly capable of saving myself.”

The look of helplessness on her brother’s and Richard’s faces told her she was exactly right about that. She kept swimming forward, the muscles of her chest and arms pleasantly burning with the exercise. She should get into the habit of swimming more often.

As Richard and Thorne followed her, one on each side, she saw that Preston was on his way from the carriage with heaps of blankets in his arms.

Jane stepped onto the muddy shore and shook with cold. She clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering, but her body continued to tremble as Preston, Sebastian, and Brace wrapped blankets around her shoulders and those of Richard and Thorne. Water dripped off her clothes and hair, which had tumbled out of its bun. Hercules barked with joy and pawed the ground before leaping up to greet each person with muddy paws. Richard’s white shirt was soon marked with dark smudges.

Richard patted him happily on the head and looked at Preston. “Were there blankets in the carriage?”

“Yes. Thankfully my coachman had not yet cleared them out after the winter.”

As Hercules left Richard alone, the three of them breathed hard. Jane felt herself shivering, and Richard wrapped his blanket around Jane’s shoulders.

“Get away from her,” barked Thorne.

“Thorne, stop it,” said Jane firmly. “I came here to say, if you killed the man I love, I’d never forgive you.”

Thorne’s face dropped. “The man you love?” he asked slowly, blinking.

Jane gazed into her brother’s eyes, usually hard but now softened with affection. His dark irises held a familiar warmth, long-held memories of their childhood together swimming in them. He’d been there from day one and had always looked out for her. His stoic facade seemed to be crumbling as his gaze filled with love and compassion.

She looked at Richard, who stared at her like she may be the cure for a plague, his blue eyes glistening and intense. Then she turned back to her brother and smiled at him. “Yes, Thorne. I love Richard.”

Thorne gave out a long, tired sigh. “Jane, you might be confusing love with infatuation.”

“No, I know what I feel, brother. I didn’t think I’d be good enough for his world, but you’re right, Thorne. You were always right. I do belong there.” She turned to Richard, who clung to her every word, so tall and so strong and muscled and yet standing with so much hope and vulnerability in his eyes, her heart could burst. “And I love you, Richard. And if you still want to marry me”—she swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry—“I will say yes.”

Richard’s face cracked in two with the most gorgeous smile she’d ever seen on a man. He took her hands into his, and how he managed to be so warm despite having been in the icy water, she didn’t know. His strong, warm hands pleasantly burned her cold fingers, reassuring her, sending sweet tingles right into her heart.

“I was going to turn the world upside down trying to woo you,” he said, “to get you to say yes. Of course I still want to marry you.” He chuckled. “You’re the love of my life.”

Something cracked open within her. Was she really going to do this, change the course of her life so sharply after being sure she’d be a spinster forever?

Yes. She was. Because she was that woman. The woman who belonged wherever she chose to.

And right now, the choice was clear.

“I belong wherever you are, Richard Seaton,” she said.

And despite the six other pairs of male eyes watching her, she wrapped her arms around her fiancé’s neck and kissed him. His lips were hot and soft and smooth, and ignoring everyone present, he dipped his tongue into her mouth and caressed hers. They kissed, despite Thorne’s unhappy growls, despite Hercules’s barks, despite the chill that crept through her heavy, wet clothes.

Because that was what Richard did to her. He lit a fire in her veins with a simple touch. And the kiss…oh the kiss…it simmered and burned, her skin tingling and heat rising up her spine and through her most intimate parts.

And suddenly, she wasn’t cold anymore.

“Enough!” barked Thorne, and with regret, Jane tore away from Richard. They exchanged playful grins; he must have felt like a naughty child, too.

They both looked at Thorne.

Her brother looked very displeased, standing all wet and cold like that. His eyebrows were drawn, and his mouth was curved downward as he glared at them in a helpless rage. Brace, Morgan, and Tristan, however, wore the most amused expressions. Jane thought they lacked only a drink in their hands and a comfortable seat, and they’d relax and enjoy the show.

“What? Thorne, please tell me you don’t still want to kill him,” said Tristan.

Thorne sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. “All right. I won’t kill you, sir. You were right. I can’t kill the man my sister loves. You have my blessing. But you two will not meet without me until the wedding!”

Both Jane’s and Richard’s faces fell.

But when she looked up at Richard, the most mischievous expression lit his face. She leaned closer to Richard. “I guess he has no idea how sneaky we can be!”