Page 21 of Lady Diana's Lost Lord
She saw the understanding dawn upon his face, the brief flicker of horror. “You thought she’d drowned?”
“Yes.” One shoe stuck in the silky mud at the bottom of the pond, and she wrenched it free. They were both perfectly ruined, of course, waterlogged as they had become.
“And you dove in, fully clothed, to rescue her?”
“Should I have waited until I could change into a bathing costume?” Diana bit off.
“I suppose not.” He redirected his attention to his daughter. “Hannah, you gave Diana a dreadful fright,” he said. “She was worried for you. That’s why she went into the pond.”
“But Papa, she wouldn’t let me wait for you. She said I had to do my sums first!”
“And so you ought to have done,” Ben said severely. His jaw tightened, and the breeze sent a lock of his dark hair sliding across his forehead. He took one step toward the pond. Another. “There will have to be consequences,” he said. “But since it is Diana whom you have offended with your behavior, it is Diana who will decide them. Is that agreeable?” His gaze slid back to her.
“I don’t suppose boiling in oils would be appropriate,” Diana muttered. “Perhaps a week without toffee candies.” One day for every year of her life she’d lost thinking Hannah had drowned while under her care.
“Fair enough,” Ben said. Another step. His boots squished on the muddy bank of the pond. “For future reference,” he said, “Hannah swims like a fish. Allow me to demonstrate.”
He gave a mighty heave, and Hannah went sailing into the air, shrieking as she plummeted straight into the center of the pond. Water splashed, splattering Diana straight in the face—and a moment later Hannah burst to the surface of the pond, spluttering.
“Papa!” she shrieked as she slapped at the water. But her little legs kicked, and she hadn’t even the slightest trouble in staying afloat.
“That’smyconsequence,” Ben said. “You owe Diana an apology. She’s ruined her dress on your account. She thought you were drowning, Hannah, and she went straight into the pond to save you. Ifyouhadbeen drowning, she might have saved your life.”
Hannah blinked her spiky wet lashes, her lips pursing. “I’m sorry,” she said to Diana, somewhat begrudgingly. "I didn't know you would jump in.”
Ben grabbed at the hem of his shirt and tugged it loose from his trousers, pulling the whole thing over his head. “You might not have,” he said, “but still you know better than to go running off.” He jerked off his boots, one after the other.
“What in the world are you doing?” Diana gasped.
He dropped the boots beside his discarded shirt, stripped off his stockings, and patted his horse—which had begun to graze placidly upon the grass—on the rump. “Swimming,” he said, and he took a running leap straight into the pond.
∞∞∞
Watching father and daughter play together made her heart ache, just a little. Like there was a little deprived corner of it that jealously watched a sort of love she had never experienced play out before her eyes, knowing she would never have it for herself.
She hadn’t had the heart to protest the play, even knowing that Hannah’s behavior had hardly merited such a reward. There had been enough days with only breakfasts and dinners shared between them for her to have understood that this was a rare occurrence—that it wasn’t something denied only to Hannah, but to Ben, who loved her to excess. And perhaps it healed a tiny portion of her heart, as well, to know that therewerefathers who truly treasured their children.
Hannah did indeed swim like a fish; though Ben was decidedly more agile. The little girl had shrieked with delight as he’d caught her by the ankle, pulling her back through the water toward him. She’d clambered onto his shoulders time and again to take flying leaps through the air and splash into the water. And then they had both engaged in a purely juvenile game of splashing water back and forth at one another, until even Diana had struggled to muffle her snickers.
Eventually, she had dragged herself out of the pond to sit upon the bank, and had just—watched through the water spots on her spectacles. With the strangest sensation of tears burning behind her eyes, and the worst sort oflonging tucked away in her heart.
She almost resented the sunset for ceding to darkness, for the last of the light fading provoked an end to the play, and Ben said with a sigh as he urged Hannah out of the water, “All right. It’s past time for dinner.”
Diana folded her arms over her chest, busking away the chill bumps that had burst out along her skin. “You go on ahead,” she said. “I’d like to have a chat with Hannah before we return. We’ll be along presently.” She patted the ground beside her. “Come sit, Hannah.”
Ben slipped his shirt over his head and grabbed up his boots and stockings. “Don’t be too long,” he said. With one hand, he nudged Hannah toward her and then headed in the direction his horse had wandered.
The wet skirts of her dress clung to her legs as Hannah wandered over, hesitation in every step. At last she plopped down onto the grass beside Diana, pulling her knees up to her chin.
A long moment passed between them in silence. Diana plucked free a spring of grass from the earth, rubbing it between her fingers. “You truly frightened me today,” she said gently.
Hannah breathed out a little sigh, tucking her cheek against her knees. “I’m sorry,” she said, and for once it didn’t sound entirely begrudging. “I didn’t know you would jump into the pond like that.”
“I know,” Diana said. “But there’s so much mischief that can befall children, and I would rather it did not befallyouin particular. Since I’ve grown rather fond of you.”
Surprised, Hannah lifted her head, blinking in the darkness. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Diana said. “I’mnotfond of your wretched behavior. But, Hannah—you’re a sweet, clever little girl when you choose to be. I’d rather be friends than enemies. Wouldn’t you?”