“A year from now, my lord, you will not be constrained by ridiculous codes of propriety, and I trust we will have discovered more entertaining pastimes.” For a moment Edward allowed her hand to move across his chest and down to his belly, in innocent exploration.
He pulled them both to their feet. He was straining against his breeches and he turned away from her to get control of himself. He doubted that in her innocence she realized the effect her touch had on him.
“And you, Edward,” he heard her say from behind him, “if you cannot bear to look upon me before we are married, will you force me to wear a sack over my head after a year?”
“If you promise to wear nothing else, I suppose I would not quibble.”
She laughed in delight, and he pictured the dimples deepening on either side of her mouth. He turned about, his desire for the moment calmed, to see her standing close to him, her eyes sparkling outrageously.
She was wearing a light muslin gown of pale green, whose bodice was, thankfully, fastened with small buttons to her throat.
“Look, Edward,” she said suddenly, shading her eyes with her hand as she gazed out to sea, “in the distance, to your left. What a gorgeous yacht. Look how her sails are billowing in the wind. I believe I can even make out gun mounts on her port side.”
It was a beautiful craft, Edward thought, his eyes following her pointing finger, of sufficient size for ocean travel.
“Drat,” Cassie said, turning back to him. “She is moving so swiftly that I cannot see whether she is English.” She added, with a small sigh, “How I wish I could captain her.”
“She is probably London-bound. In any case, my love, you are going to be far too occupied to concern yourself with yachts. There is our wedding trip to Scotland, you know. And then we will be married and you will have far more interesting things to do than concern yourself with such unfeminine pursuits.”
She frowned at him, but just for an instant. “There are undoubtedly sailing craft in Scotland, my lord, and if you would but once come sailing with me, I know you would change your opinion.”
“It is not that I doubt your prowess, Cass, it is merely that I have a very healthy respect for the sea and its power. Come, let us walk down to the beach. I can tell that you are fairly itching to remove your sandals and stockings and wade in the water.”
“It is so warm, my lord,” she said in a demure voice. “Perhaps I could convince you to come swimming with me.”
“I suppose you have brought an extra shift for just that purpose.”
“Oh no. I think it would be far more interesting to wear nothing at all.”
At his threatening glance, she laughed aloud, picked up her skirts, and dashed away from him toward a path that led to the beach below them.
“Don’t break your neck,” she heard him shout after her.
Cassie gained the beach and turned, panting, to see him running down the rocky path toward her. The taut muscles in his thighs and belly flexed rhythmically as he neared her, and she wanted to touch him, to feel the lean hardness of him.
Edward clasped her shoulders in his hands and shook her lightly, his eyes alight with laughter. She did not respond in kind, but merely stared up at him, her lips slightly parted.
She realized dimly that they were standing motionless, in plain view; it was unlikely that she could even convince him to kiss her. She remembered a small cave, private and protected, some twenty yards up the beach, carved long ago by the crashing of the sea into the rocks. She pulled away from him and ran full speed up the beach, hoping she could reach the cave before he caught her.
Startled, Edward stared after her a moment. “Cassie, what the devil,” he shouted, but she did not stop. He shook his head and galloped after her. The beach curved sharply, and when he rounded the cliff, she was nowhere to be seen. “Cassie, if you don’t come here this instant, I am going to beat your bottom.”