Page 5 of Starlight and the Duke (Cherish and the Duke #5)

She smiled as their path emerged onto a grassy expanse that led to the beach steps.

“She’ll let me know if there is anything more I can do for her.

I’ve already helped with the invitations and the general planning, so I think she’ll be prepared.

Organization is one of my strengths. I also came ahead to make certain her house was fully stocked and that daily deliveries of perishable goods have been arranged, and I helped her write a schedule of daily activities and alternative plans in the event of rain. ”

He laughed. “Is this her house party or yours?”

She shrugged. “I love this sort of thing. She knows I am here to help if something comes up that she needs me to do.”

“You are a good and loyal friend to her. A good friend to me, as well.”

He’d meant to compliment her, but saw pain in her fragile smile. “Always, Rob. I shall always hold you dearest in my heart.”

“Same here,” he replied, his voice tight. “You know that, don’t you?”

She smiled at him and nodded.

They walked on in silence, but then both came to a sudden stop as they reached the beach steps. From here, one had a magnificent view of Shoreham Manor’s sheltered cove and the sunlight glistening upon the gentle waves.

Rob took a deep breath, for there was something quite bracing about the salty sea air. “Would you mind if I took a swim later?”

Fiona shrugged. “Not at all. I might dip my toes in the water while you have your swim.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You could join me.”

She blushed. “I don’t think so. I am not as strong a swimmer as you. Besides, I did not think to put on my bathing costume.”

He left it at that as they walked down the stairs onto the sand and spread the blanket within the shade of the steps. Fiona opened the picnic basket and set out what was packed inside—cold ham, cheese, and bread.

“Looks delicious,” he remarked.

She nodded. “I have a good staff. They take excellent care of me.”

When they were done with their repast, they removed their boots and walked barefoot along the sand. Rob purposely did not touch Fiona, not even to take her hand. He could see that she was still fragile, for his presence alone was forcing her to face her feelings, and this was difficult for her.

But it was better that they dealt with this turmoil now.

If Fiona had helped Cherish send out her invitations, then most of the young ladies who were invited had no doubt been chosen for him by Fiona.

How would she handle seeing him in the company of these potential wives? He did not think she was capable of remaining indifferent.

What a mess this was going to be.

As they ambled back toward the blanket and the beach steps, he stopped to roll up the legs of his trousers.

Fiona watched him. “What are you doing?”

“Dipping a toe in the water. Care to join me for that? It is innocent enough.”

Nodding, she hiked her gown up to her knees and ventured into the water alongside him.

He liked watching her dance amid the waves, darting forward and then back as they gently broke around her.

What a beautiful portrait she made with her big eyes shining under that big, floppy hat, its pink ribbon fluttering in the wind.

Her legs were nicely shaped, too. He’d never seen more than her ankles in almost twenty years. But in their earlier days, when they were children, he’d seen her legs lots of times, for they often climbed trees or hopped fences, her long, spindly limbs flailing as she struggled to lift herself up.

Fiona had never had much upper body strength. She made it up a tree or over a fence by sheer determination.

“I’m going in for a swim,” he said, tugging his shirt out of his waistband. “Turn around, Fiona. I’m taking everything off.”

A hot blush stained her cheeks, but she did not turn away. Instead, she tipped her chin into the air. “What difference does it make? I’m going to see you that way eventually, aren’t I?”

“Yes, but only when you are ready and willing. I have no intention of rushing you into anything.”

She swallowed hard but did not take her gaze off him.

“Fine, pretend you are jaded and sophisticated.” He removed his shirt in one fluid motion and held back a chuckle when he heard her make a strangled sound, halfway between a kitten’s meow and a bird chirp, because she wasn’t used to seeing bared muscles or broad shoulders on a man.

Her late husband was built more like a slender willow reed.

“All right, Fiona. Moment of truth. I’m taking off my trousers now. Are you going to stay stubborn and gawk at me? Pretend you are not going to silently shriek and panic? Or will you turn your back? Do it now.” He stared at her while undoing the first button of his falls, then the second.

Her face turned a brighter shade of red as she spun around to stare at the beach steps. “I am only looking away to protect your modesty.”

“Mine? I am not modest. Turn around if you want to look at me. I know you are dying of curiosity. But it will also be a shock to your senses.”

She huffed. “Pardon me while I yawn.”

Laughing, he took off his trousers and dove into the bracing sea.

“You can look now,” he called out once the water was above his waist. The water was clear, although hopefully roiled enough by the small waves breaking around him so as not to give her too much of a view. She wanted to appear brave, but in fact she was a skittish filly.

Perhaps he was treating her too much like an innocent, but this was what she was to some degree. She was not sophisticated about sexual matters, although she probably assumed she was, due to her almost twenty-year marriage.

But what had she and Shoreham done in all those years? It was clear to Rob that she understood almost nothing about men’s bodies. Shoreham had been her one and only, and obviously taught her very little. Nor had anyone touched her before marriage or after she’d lost her husband.

Was he being a prideful arse by worrying about showing her too much maleness all at once?

Fiona was no wilting daffodil. She wasn’t going to swoon or faint at the evidence of his masculinity.

But she was a thinker, and this was what she was going to do—think too much and then obsess over every detail.

She turned to watch him in the water and was now staring at him with the intensity of the sun.

Obviously, she was contemplating joining him.

“The water is quite splendid, Fiona.”

When she did not respond, he let the matter drop and swam the length of the cove and back. She probably studied his arse, the very same one she had powdered when he was a toddler.

One’s arse did not change much from infancy to adulthood. It was the package up front that mattered most.

“Look away, Fiona. I’m coming out now.”

“I don’t see why I should.”

“Are we going to play this game again?” He brushed back his wet hair to keep it off his face. “Fine, don’t turn around. Show me how comfortable you are around a man’s naked body. Because I am very naked, Fiona.”

And he knew she wasn’t comfortable at all. Shoreham must have come to her bundled to his throat.

“This final warning is a courtesy to you. As for myself, I don’t care if you look your fill.”

But he had not waded more than a step forward before she made another of those chirping bird sounds and turned away. She did not move away from his pile of clothing, however.

He stepped out of the water and closed the distance between them, bending to retrieve the trousers by her feet. Water dripped from his hair and body, and a little of it fell on her as he shook himself like a dog to wipe the excess moisture off before he—

She turned around and stared at him.

He did not think her eyes could grow wider.

Fortunately, he happened to have his trousers in his hand and covering his private parts. Not on, just held in front. “What are you doing, Fiona?”

“You sprayed me with seawater.”

“Accidentally. Why are you standing so close to my clothes? I only meant to dry off a little.”

“Oh, I should have thought to bring a towel for you.”

“We’ll think of it tomorrow.”

A little pulse beat at the base of her throat. “You are going to swim tomorrow?”

He nodded. “If weather permits. Now, I don’t mind standing here naked while holding a casual conversation with you, but I would like to don my clothes before nightfall.”

She turned to face away from him. Still quite close.

This was a good sign, he supposed. Had he been that drunken goat, Lord Dexter, she would have shot up those stairs faster than a stone hurled from a catapult to avoid him.

She was looking at him again when he bent to retrieve his shirt. Droplets trailed down his neck, chest, and arms, so he lightly rubbed his shirt along his upper torso before slipping it over his head.

“Fiona?”

She gulped. “Forgive me for staring, but Shoreham looked nothing like you.”

“I know.”

“This is why every woman in England wants you,” she said, her voice shaky.

“They want me because I am a duke and rich. The body itself is immaterial. So is my heart. Immaterial, that is.”

“A duke,” she murmured. “I wish you were a stable groom or a footman.”

“You wouldn’t marry me if I were either of those men.”

“Then a barrister or a gentleman squire.”

He nodded. “That would work.”

“But you are not those things,” she said with that hint of pain in her voice that always crushed him.

“No, and I never will be. I am a duke and this will not change while I am alive.”

“I know.”

Tears welled in her eyes.

“Stop that, Fiona,” he said gently, and took her by the hand to lead her to their blanket beside the steps so they could put on their shoes and close the picnic basket.

The sun had reached its zenith and was now beginning its descent. Birds hovered over the water, hunting for fish. They still had hours yet before sunset, but Rob felt his hopes fade along with the beautiful light.

It was only the first day. They had not even spent a night together. But he could see by the way Fiona responded to this outing, her lips trembling as though she were about to weep, that she had her mind made up already.

She was never going to marry him.

He did not know if he could ever persuade her to alter this decision, not even if they spent the next seven days in mindless carnal bliss in her bed.

But he was going to try his best. This was not merely about weakening her resistance with the use of his prowess. Intimacy was only one aspect of the marital bond he needed to create with Fiona.

Weakening her resistance with true love was his ultimate goal.

He kept hold of her hand as they climbed the steps together, and carried their belongings in the other. They crossed the small expanse of grass and entered the woodsy path that led back to the house. The wind had died down now, as it often did in the late afternoon.

When she slipped her hand from his as they approached the house, he tried to keep his hopes from dying, too.

“I’ll have a bath brought up to you,” she said, rushing into the house ahead of him.

He wanted to invite her to join him, but held his tongue. There would be time enough for that over the course of the week.

“What do you have planned for us after supper? Any particular entertainments?”

She surprised him by turning flustered. “Oh… I…did not think of that.”

Fiona never got flustered.

“Well, we could play cards,” she said. “Or read. Or…”

“Or what?”

“Well, nothing… You know .”

Yes, he did know. “Are you suggesting we go straight to your bedchamber and have at it?”