Chapter One
The scorching summer sun sparkled on the waves as they slapped against the bank of the River Cam, close to where Alicia Bolton stood.
The air was redolent with the smell of water, mud, and reeds as excitement built among the crowd clustered along the river’s edge to watch the Cambridge bump race begin.
The footman ran a finger around his collar as if it felt too tight. He cleared his throat and took a good grip on Figaro’s lead. “Pardon me, Miss Bolton, but are you sure we should be here?”
Alicia’s beloved Pomeranian was known to break free and escape even when it hardly seemed possible. He would go on escapades, causing an uproar in the house.
“I take full responsibility, James.” Alicia smiled, hoping it reassured him. “You will not be held accountable for my errant behavior. In any event, we shall be home before Papa and Mama return from their visit with Aunt Elizabeth.”
The tall, fair-haired young footman’s expression changed from doubt to one of hope, his eyes brightening. “If you are sure, Miss Bolton. It is a pity Miss Johns could not accompany you today.”
“Yes, it was too bad of my maid to catch the measles from my sister Anne’s children.
” She gazed up the river. “But I have looked forward to watching the boat race between Corpus Christi and King’s College since Anthony told me he had been selected.
My brother expects to find me here among the onlookers.
I cannot disappoint him. He has explained the rules of the race to me: the boats line up at a set distance from each other.
The coxswain holds a rope attached to the riverbank.
Then it’s released when the cannon is fired to signal the start of the race.
Each crew aims to make contact with the boat ahead, while trying not to be bumped by the boat behind them.
” She turned to James. “And I am the only one of the family here today to support him.”
At that moment, the cannon boomed to signal the start of the race.
Then sculls advanced down the river, the coxes keeping time as their rowers’ oars dipped into the water.
There were cries among the crowd when a scull bumped another boat, and they both headed for shore to moans of dismay and loud cheers.
She craned her neck. “Magdalene College just bumped Queens.” King’s College was now ahead, but in the Corpus Christi scull, her brother and the other rowers pulled hard, their oars slashing through the water, their boat edging closer.
“Corpus Christi is coming fast!” Alicia squealed and gripped James’s arm. “Go, Anthony!” she yelled. A middle-aged lady with a hat of dyed purple ostrich feathers turned to glare at her. Baroness Forrester’s lips thinned in disapproval.
As the King’s College scull drew closer to where Alicia stood, James forgot himself and yelled along with Alicia. At that moment, Figaro saw his chance. He slipped his head from the lead and ran barking along the bank.
“Oh, do catch him, James!” Alicia cried.
The tall footman reached the dog, but as he made to grab him, Figaro plunged into the swirling water. As if realizing he had made a rash decision, the dog panicked and swam around in circles as the waves splashed over his head.
Alicia called Figaro, but he was too terrified to respond. “Oh, he will drown! Can you go in after him, James?”
James’s face went white, and he wrung his hands. “I cannot swim, miss.”
Her brother’s boat bumped the back of the King’s scull to a roar of triumph.
Then both boats pulled over toward the far bank to allow the following boats to continue.
Anthony, apparently noticing the dog in the water, gripped the side of his boat, distress on his face as he watched the ensuing drama, but all Alicia could think of was Figaro’s thrashing about had slowed as he quickly tired.
A rower from the King’s College boat pulled off his jersey and dove in. He swam strongly toward Figaro while whistles and screams of encouragement from both teams followed him. Reaching the dog, he raised Figaro’s head just as he sank beneath the waves rippling out from the boats.
Alicia gasped as the man swam toward the bank with Figaro held securely in one arm. Reaching the shore, he released the soaking and subdued dog into Alicia’s care.
“Oh, you have saved him! Thank you.” Alicia knelt on the muddy shore and clutched the shaking animal to her. “You are such a naughty dog, Figaro.”
James picked up the dog and slipped the collar over the canine’s neck. He held Figaro against his chest, soaking his coat. “I have him safe now, miss. He will not get away from me again.”
Alicia heaved a sigh and turned to thank his rescuer.
“I am very grateful, sir…” The words died on her lips.
All she could think of was how splendid he was, reminding her of a Greek river god emerging from the water.
Very tall, he stood dripping before her, his wet shirt sticking to his skin.
Every delineation of his wide chest and magnificent musculature was thrown into high relief, his trousers hugging his strong thighs.
She quickly raised her gaze to his blue eyes and found an appreciative gleam as he ran his hands through his wet, black hair.
“There’s no need to thank me,” he said, amusement in his voice. “I couldn’t let an animal drown.”
“You are too good, sir.” She swallowed as a thrill ran through her, caught by the glimpse of his body—one did not ordinarily see a gentleman in such a state—and feared she was as red as Grandmama’s prized roses. “Figaro is a rascal,” she said hastily. “I don’t know why I love him so much.”
He grinned with a flash of white teeth; he bowed, and without another word, dove back into the river to swim strongly back to his boat.
She watched him climb easily into the scull, powerful muscles flexing, to be accompanied by the cheers and backslapping from his crew.
Then she quickly turned away, having become aware of the scandalized looks the ladies in the crowd cast at her.
“We are already late. We must hurry home, James.”
The footman led the way, resolutely clutching the miserable, trembling, wet bundle of fur in his arms.
Whispers followed them as they moved through the group of onlookers. One woman’s bitter comment to her young daughter of marriageable age, “How well planned. A perfect way to meet the duke. I wish I had thought of it.”
“But we don’t have a dog, Mama,” the freckled-faced young woman said.
“Hush, Marian. We shall go home. No earthly reason to stay here a moment longer.”
He was a duke. And he must have thought her a blushing, ninnyhammer.
But Alicia had little time to dwell on it as she and James hurried home.
Gasping to regain their breath, they arrived at the townhouse her father had rented for a month, a mile from the river.
To her dismay, she found the stablehands washing and polishing the family carriage by the stable yard.
She groaned. “Oh, drat! My parents are home, James.” She held out her arms. “Give me Figaro, quickly, and change your coat. You know nothing, remember?”
“Yes, miss.” James needed no urging to obey and handed over the dog before rushing to the servants’ entrance.
Alicia led Figaro up onto the front porch.
Grimsby, their butler, opened the door. She noted the warning in his hazel eyes as she hurried in.
“Your father is in his study, Miss Bolton, and has asked for you. It might be prudent to go directly to him.” He took Figaro from her and handed him to a footman who held the dog away from his livery with a moue of distaste at the strong river smells.
Alicia removed her bonnet and discarded the muddy and odoriferous spencer, which would be sure to draw questions from Papa.
She tidied her fair hair in the gilt-framed mirror in the hall, and with considerable trepidation, walked to her father’s study.
After her gentle tap on his door, her father’s gruff voice bade her enter, and she opened it and peeked in.
Papa looked up from his desk. “No need to try to fool me as to where you have been. I was advised of it by Lady Forrester.”
Alicia wrinkled her nose. Lady Forrester. The woman in the hat with purple feathers. She must have sent her servant running all the way to tell him. “Already? My goodness, news does travel fast, doesn’t it?” She tried an appealing smile, but her lips trembled.
If she had hoped to charm her father, she soon saw it was a hopeless case. He came around the desk and perched on the edge of the polished surface with a heavy frown. “Well, miss, what do you have to say for yourself?”
Alicia rose on her tiptoes, her hands clutched behind her back.
She was still a little shaky after watching Figaro struggling in the river and then racing all the way home, and would have liked to sit down but dared not ask.
“I felt Anthony should have support from the family, Papa. And as you and Mama had another engagement… His boat did very well today. They bumped the King’s College scull. ”
Distracted by the news, which he clearly had not yet heard, Papa smiled.
“Did he, indeed? That was well done by Anthony and his crew. Your mother has gone to stay with your sister and help with baby Angus, who is teething. But I shall be at the river to view the race tomorrow and every day until the finish in three days’ time. ”
Apparently, Lady Forrester had failed to relay any good news. But then, she might have been cheering for the King’s College team.