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“I got the idea from the Venetian gondoliers and badgered Papa to get one made for me. It was my bribe for being good this season.” She wrinkled her nose again at mention of the season. “Papa said I could try it on the lake before I attempted it in the surf back home.”

“I cannot fathom why you parents allowed you to be out here by yourself.”

“Oh, they don’t know! Papa was going to let me have a go tomorrow—under his supervision of course. Only I didn’t want my first time to be in front of him in case I muffed it. Which I did!”

“Your father is right you know. You should be supervised. It’s dangerous, as you just proved. If I hadn’t chanced to be passing—” A cold shudder passed over his skin which had nothing to do with his damp shirt. The notion that she might have drowned—

“Not to minimize my gratitude for your rescue, but I would have been fine! As I said, I would have ripped my shirt to get it free before I ran out of air!”

“Miss Eden, you are quite extraordinary.”

She sighed. “How I wish I were a man.”

“You would be alone in that wish,” he said, dropping his voice with heartfelt sincerity. She was the most entrancing female he’d ever met. Quite unique and thoroughly adorable.

She shook her head. “Papa says I would be less troublesome if I were a boy.” She smiled, but it had a sad tinge to it. “I’m not a very satisfactory young lady.”

“You’re delightful in my opinion,” he blurted, before he recalled that voicing such a statement, while true, was completely inappropriate.

She flushed and peeped at him with those gorgeous violet eyes. And Captain Beroald Falkland, Duke of Westcott, lost control of his faculties.

“Miss Eden,” he leaned forward.

“Captain,” she said softly, leaning forward likewise.

She pressed her lips to his and a warm rush chased away the gooseflesh on his skin.

The kiss was fleeting however, for she lost her balance and fell into him.

Landing against his chest. She giggled then and wrapped her arms round his neck, and irresistibly, he leaned in and kissed her properly.

Thoroughly. Slowly they swiveled and he bore her down onto the grassy bank, his body half on top of hers.

The heat from their bodies steamed the damp fabric of their shirts.

Hard, hot desire took possession of him and for a few blissful moments he lost himself to the passion of kissing a young woman who was a virtual stranger, and yet, paradoxically, so familiar that being in her arms felt like home to a lonely sailor whose only real abode had been the deck of ship for more than half his life.

The raucous cry of one of Troubridge’s peacocks brought him back to himself with a jolt, and he broke the kiss and scrambled backward off Miss Eden’s warm, supple body. Her torn shirt had parted at the front giving him more than a glimpse of her generously rounded breasts.

He averted his eyes. “Miss Eden, I do most deeply apologize for my inappropriate behavior.”

She sat up, pulling her shirt closed with one hand. “Why? I kissed you, remember?”

He swallowed, his pulse still skipping and racing, hot blood still surging in his groin.

When he didn’t answer, she went on. “Yes, I know it was wrong. But it was quite delicious, too. At least I found it so. Did you?”

He groaned out loud then. “Miss Eden, you are outrageous!”

“Well yes, I suppose I am. I did say I was an unsatisfactory lady.” She added in a small voice, which made him realize, more than anything else, how young she was. “Didn’t you like it?”

“I liked it, Miss Eden. Very much. But I shouldn’t have done it. We haven’t even been properly introduced.”

“That can be remedied, can’t it? Just come up to the house. Aunt Jocelyn will introduce us. You do know the duchess, don’t you?”

“Yes, I am acquainted with the Duke and Duchess of Troubridge.”

“Well then . . .”

“Miss Eden,” he began in a helpless tone of voice. She was temptation personified. He’d lost his wits.

“Fenella,” she said softly.

He shook his head to attempt to clear it, his brain had turned to mush. “How old are you?”

“I’ll be twenty next month,” she said, lifting her chin.

He groaned. It was worse than he’d thought. “Miss Eden I am thirty-eight! I am old enough to be your father!”

“Nonsense! Papa is fifty-eight,” she said, flushing that adorable pink that made her freckles stand out.

“I think you are just the right age. Young men are silly, childish, and self-centered. The only things they care about are the set of their coats and the prime bit of blood and bone they just purchased. I’ve had my fill of them in London. ”

“Miss Eden, you should go back to the house before some discovers you in—” He waved at her disheveled appearance and torn clothing.

“I will, and you needn’t fear I’ll be seen. I know a secret way into the house; cousin Kenrick showed me!” She grinned. But then she grabbed his hands and said pleadingly, “You will come to the house so we might be properly introduced, won’t you? I promise to behave.”

Beroald discovered that, hardened seaman that he was, he wasn’t proof against a pair of pleading violet eyes. “As it happens,” he admitted, “I have an invitation to dinner here for tonight.”

“Wonderful! Then you’ll come and we can pretend we’ve never met!

” She bounced up and hugged him quickly, before rising to her feet and beginning to gather up her things and stuff them into her bag.

Her shirt kept flopping open, and he went to his own things and found the pin in his cravat.

“Here, use that to pin your shirt closed, and tuck the tails into your breeches. You look like a shabrag!”

She grinned, not in the least abashed by his scold. “What a pretty pin. Is it a real sapphire?”

“Yes, it is,” he said absently, too busy admiring the curves in her breeches.

“I’ll be careful with it and return it to you secretly!” She tidied herself up and shouldered her bag.

“What are you going to do with your paddleboard?”

“Oh, I’ll leave it here. Papa will assume the servants brought it down for me.” She smiled and held out a hand, suddenly looking shy. “I will see you later?” she said anxiously.

He took her hand and kissed it. “Yes, you will.” Against my better judgement.

She turned and set off up the slight slope in the direction of the house, and he watched her until she was lost to his sight.

Then he put his boots back on and, slinging his coat over his shoulder, continued on his way to his own house, conscious that whatever happened now, his life would never be the same again.