She took some comfort in the fact that he had not forced her, and she did find some appeal in replacing her horse rides until her ankle healed fully.
She went to her room and changed into her swimming outfit, wearing a long robe atop. Then, she found a towel and snuck out of the house without anyone seeing her. That was another forewarning that should have told her she was tempting fate, but she was on her way, and there was no turning back now.
At the beach, she found a small pile of clothes and the Duke’s towel. She looked down at the water and found him already swimming. That made her feel even more comfortable—he had not been waiting for her to undress and go in.
Bridget stripped down to her bathing gown and placed the rest of her clothes and the towel on the sand next to the Duke’s pile. She placed a swimming cap over her head and stuffed her long hair beneath it.
Then, she took one look behind to make sure no one had followed her to the beach, and she strode down to the water.
The Duke waved to her mid-stroke as she approached, but he did not stop. She waved back and stepped into the water. There was a rush of vigor as the cold bit at her ankles, but the shock was a welcome one. The Duke had been right. There was something about entering the cold water that took her breath away in the same way as riding her horse.
Bridget walked deeper into the water, and the coldness rose up her body. She did not have to go as far out as the Duke, and she plunged under before coming back up. She swam parallel to the shore, just as the Duke did, but she was in shallower waters.
Bridget swung one arm after the other, gently kicking her feet. She did not feel any pain in the water but did not want to push herself. She quickly found her rhythm and flew through the water like a dolphin.
It became euphoric, pushing herself faster and faster, using her arms to increase her speed. She turned multiple times, going back and forth across the length of their part of the beach, and her appetite was thoroughly worked up.
She did not want to admit the Duke was right, certainly not to his face, but it had been a good decision to go out into the water.
When she had swum enough, she kicked only her legs, treading through the water as she got her breath back. She looked around and saw the Duke heading back to the shore, but not in her direction. She would have been irritated if he had come straight for her, but she became irritated now that he seemed to be ignoring her.
Bridget started back toward the shore, too, and when the water was shallow enough, she stood up and walked—her ankle didn’t hurt.
The Duke was not far in front of her, and she followed him back toward the shore. She did not know what came over her as she bent down and splashed the Duke with water.
The Duke turned to face her with an amused look on his face. For a moment, Bridget felt like a child again—the Duke had teased her enough that she decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. Yet, she knew he would fight back.
Once realization of what she had done sank in, she gasped. She gasped a second time when the Duke splashed her back.
Bridget was not one to shy away from a challenge, and she instantly started splashing the Duke, and at the same moment, he started splashing her. They flung water back and forth, and would have both become soaked if they were not already from swimming.
Bridget laughed as she tossed water at the Duke, and she could hear him laughing through the splashing water, too. The swim in the cold water had been euphoric, and there was a release in playing in the water with the Duke. Bridget laughed again, but this time at the image of a duke splashing in the water. It became the funniest thing she had ever imagined.
Then she saw his face as he came closer to her. She did not know if he meant to splash her more, but she became very aware that she was on the beach alone with him. It frightened her a little.
“I’m cold. I must get back to the shore,” Bridget said.
She turned quickly and walked back to the sand, hoping the Duke would give her some room.
As soon as she got back to her clothing, she found herself shivering with the residual cold of the water. Bridget wrapped her towel around herself and sat down with her legs pulled up to her chest. Her body shook as she looked past the Duke toward the horizon. It was not only the cold water that brought tremors to her body, but the stress of the wedding, her mother trying to protect everyone, and her father trying to ruin everything. Couple that with meeting Margaret’s betrothed and trying to play nice with the Duke, and it was a cocktail of strain.
The Duke had given her some space but soon approached and grabbed his towel to dry his hair.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Yes, of course,” she replied. “It was a silly water fight.”
“I don’t mean that. You are shivering and will catch your death if you stay out here.”
“I need a moment,” Bridget claimed. “I need to think.”
She needed to make sense of what she was feeling.
The Duke sat on the sand beside her, and he smelled so good—the saltiness of the seawater mixing with his musk. She flinched when he put his arm around her, even if it did bring her instant warmth. She should have run back to the house, but she needed something calming in her life, and even though the Duke infuriated her, his embrace calmed her body and quietened the shivering.
“You don’t have to stay with me,” Bridget told him.
She was more conflicted—she knew she should be alone but did not want the Duke to leave.
