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Dropping his arms, he stepped back. Christopher admired his wife.

He respected her. He was grateful to Sarah for how she treated his sisters and helped nudge them toward womanhood.

His pulse quickened in her presence, and he loved how she smelled.

Even more, he loved how his fingers tingled with sensation when he touched her silken skin.

And when her perfect lips had touched his imperfect ones, the warmth he’d felt throughout his body.

He had never known such pleasure, nor such joy.

But their marriage bargain had not been for love.

It had been for Manderfield Hall and his sisters.

Did Sarah want more from the connection?

Christopher was reluctant to offer his heart only to find it rejected.

And if his wife spurned his words of love, their perfectly happy existence would be ruined.

There would be no more cards, spillikins, or hide-and-seek as a family.

The easy and comfortable atmosphere of their home would be stifled and constrained.

Christopher had never been so happy before.

It seemed foolish to want or to ask for more than what he’d already received from Sarah.

“I believe Sarah is fond of you as well,” Margaret said in a quiet voice. “She seems to light up when you enter a room.”

He rubbed his mustache and the scar beneath it. “Her countenance is always bright.”

“True,” Deb said, poking his arm with her pointer finger. “But Margaret is right too. Sarah practically sparkles when you are near her, and I overheard her telling Miss Mills how handsome she finds you. Then Sarah and her maid both giggled like a pair of schoolgirls.”

Did his wife truly find him handsome?

Christopher knew his sisters were trying to be helpful, but he could not think of a time when he’d felt more uncomfortable, nor more revealed, with or without a bathing suit.

And he hated feeling vulnerable in front of anyone.

He preferred to hide his physical flaws behind his beard and his emotions behind a wall of reserve.

“I am going for a ride to stake out Sir Oscar’s artificial lake. I shall be gone for most of the afternoon.”

Deb plunked down on a sofa. “I daresay Sarah will keep us company.”

Pulling at his collar, Christopher said, “She will be joining me.”

Margaret sat next to Deborah and simply raised her eyebrows.

Feeling the heat rush to his face, Christopher turned his gaze away from his sisters and out the closest window. His sisters laughed together, and despite his great discomfort, he was glad they were getting along so well. He hoped Sarah and he would too.

He left the room abruptly, and when he closed the door, he heard more laughter.

Christopher hadn’t felt so embarrassed since before his first mustache had grown.

He’d been teased mercilessly as a child for his scar.

One neighbor boy had even called him a monster.

He thought of his beautiful wife. How could a lady love a monster? Or an imperfect man like himself?

“What are the girls laughing about?”

Christopher jumped. He had not heard Sarah walking up to him, but there she was at his elbow, wearing her purple riding habit. He was grateful that his reaction had not been to flatten her to the floor with his elbow. He did not like being surprised.

“I am not certain.”

Sarah smiled up at him. “Well, giggling is much better than quarreling, isn’t it?”

Offering his arm, he agreed. “I believe so.”

They walked out of the house, where two horses were waiting for them.

Christopher lifted Sarah into the sidesaddle, and the groom handed her the reins.

He swung up onto his own new mount and touched his hat to signal his thanks to the groom and for the man to let go.

Sarah urged her horse into a canter, and they rode together for a couple of miles before she called to him to turn to the east. Christopher heard the sound of the river before he saw it.

The forested area was quite dense with trees and debris.

Sarah led them through a dirt path that looked well-traveled, to an area of the stream that appeared deeper and wider than the rest.

She slid off her horse and glanced over her shoulder to look at him. “Ralph and I used to say that this was where bears took their baths. Happily, we never met one here.”

“At least they would be clean bears.”

Sarah threw back her head and laughed merrily at his small joke.

He alighted from his horse and took both pairs of reins.

He led the horses to the river to get a drink before he tied them to a tree.

By the time he turned around, Sarah was already undressed—or, rather, ready in her bathing gown.

It was a loose, smock-like gown that resembled a chemise.

There was a tie at the throat, and the hemline barely covered her knees.

Her calves were shapely underneath it. His pulse quickened, and he forced himself to stop staring at her legs.

He didn’t want her to find him vulgar or unseemly.

Christopher shucked off his coat, which was now a great deal tighter after Sarah’s and the tailor’s adjustments. He also removed his waistcoat, cravat, and bespoke shirt. He kept his breeches on. Mr. Harris had said that this particular pair would dry quickly after their swim.

Sitting down on a rock, he yanked off his boots and stockings.

Christopher saw that Sarah had hung her dress and riding habit on the branch of a tree.

Her boots and stockings were stowed tidily underneath them.

He put his shoes near hers and picked up his discarded clothing and made a pile of them on the rock.

He heard a splash. Sarah had jumped into the water, and she was wading in farther. He watched until the river reached all the way to her shoulders.

She lifted a hand and beckoned him to come join her.

Christopher usually only swam after spending hours in the heat and sun.

The cold rivers had always felt refreshing.

Today it did not. One step in and the water was freezing.

Gooseflesh formed on his arms, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

He wrapped his arms around himself for warmth.

He had no wish to go any farther into this river.

“It’s colder if you aren’t fully submerged,” Sarah called, beckoning him again with one hand. “Run in as quickly as you can, and then you won’t feel so cold.”

Rubbing the bumps on his arms, he was not entirely certain he believed her. But, on the other hand, he didn’t wish to disappoint Sarah. Closing his eyes, Christopher ran and splashed until the water passed his hips and then rose all the way to his shoulders. He shivered underneath the water.

Sarah put her hand on his shoulder, and warmth emanated from her touch. “Isn’t it refreshing?”

“That’s not quite the word I would use.”

She let out a gurgle of laughter that warmed his frozen heart, and then she grabbed his arm, tugging him deeper into the pool so that he had to tread water to keep his head above the river.

Sarah floated next to him, a smile on her face, and then she splashed him.

Christopher couldn’t resist splashing her back.

She dove beneath the water and pulled on his knees, bringing his face into the cold river.

Resurfacing with a sputter, Christopher dove for his wife. Sarah dodged his grasp and splashed him with a laugh. Never one to give up easily, he chased his wife as she swam away from him. After several circles and splashes, Christopher finally grasped Sarah by her shoulders.

“Now that you’ve caught me, are you going to dunk me?” she asked, grinning.

He shook his head. “No, I am going to kiss you.”

Christopher released his hold on her arms, allowing her to leave or refuse his kiss if she wished to.

He closed his eyes and leaned in, waiting for his wife to make the contact between them.

He felt her cold arms around his neck, and he thought for a moment that she was going to dunk him again, but then her lips, cold and silky, brushed against his.

Over and over. Each time his mouth grew a little warmer, and so did the rest of his body, despite being in a cold river.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

Sarah opened her lips slightly, and Christopher deepened the kiss.

She tasted sweet and cold, but she warmed him to the very core.

Breaking the kiss, his lips moved to her cheek and made a trail to her chin, and then he nuzzled her underneath the delicate skin of her ear.

Sarah giggled breathlessly. “Your beard tickles.”

He stilled. “Do you not like it?”

“Your kisses or your beard?” she asked with another laugh. “I confess that I like them both.”

His wife demonstrated how much she liked them by fastening her lips upon his once more. Never before had Christopher felt such a tidal wave of feelings. Deb had been right: He loved his wife. And he even dared to hope that she cared for him too.

Sarah gave him one more heart-stopping kiss before splashing him and swimming away.

They splashed, swam, and frolicked for nearly an hour before they made their way to the shore and found a sunny spot in the forest to stretch out and dry themselves and their bathing clothes.

Sarah lay down on her back, one arm casually flung across her brow, blocking the sun.

Christopher was on his side, perched on his elbow so that he could see her.

“We shall have to bring your sisters. You and I can teach them how to swim,” she said.