Chapter 4
On his desk at that moment, Cash knew there were three different reports from stewards at his various properties, seven petitions his secretary thought important enough for him to personally review, a letter to Prince Leopold of Bavaria which required his signature, and a list of his mother’s concerns.
She’d been displeased to learn that he did not plan to take the full summer off from his responsibilities, and in fact had brought his responsibilities with him to Dumpkins.
But his concession was private dinners in the suite he’d been given, as the visitor with the highest standing.
On the nights he could avoid Lady Dumpkins’s formal meals, he’d enjoyed the chance to dine with his mother, his sister, and often, even Matthew.
Last night, Mother had met with him alone, and laid out her concerns for the coming year in London..
Apparently, before they traveled north for the summer, Carlotta had managed to scare off her third music instructor—no surprise there—but had already gained the attentions of some earl’s son thanks to her fine riding skills.
Mother was enthusiastically planning Carlotta’s presentation next season, which would either be a Smashing Success or a Giant Disaster, depending on how well his uninhibited sister managed to make her curtsey.
Oh, and Mother had spent at least seven minutes bemoaning the fact that her Precious Baby was growing up too fast and would become a woman soon.
Cash assumed this meant he’d be expected to visit London in the autumn and either a) curtail Carlotta’s wilder tendencies, b) escort the pair of them around Town, or c) give his approval—or disapproval—of The Match Of The Season.
At least that was what Mother had called this hypothetical future marriage proposal, and he wasn’t at all certain how he was expected to reply to that.
Yes, Cash had plenty to worry about in terms of his responsibilities.
So what was he doing standing in shallow water with his trouser legs rolled up to his knees, teaching a tow-headed lad one of the necessary skills for living in the country?
Having a far better time, that is for certain.
“No, Callan. You have to curve your leading finger around the stone. Like this.” He held the boy’s hand in his. “Otherwise, you won’t get the correct spin on it.”
“I’m doing that!” the lad shrieked in frustration. “But it’s no’ listening!”
“The stone’s not listening?” Matthew asked drily. “Have you tried explaining things louder? That might help.”
Just as Cash sent his son an exasperated glance, Callan lifted the smooth river rock to his lips, and screamed, “Ye have to skip! We’re skipping ye! Skip, if ye ken what’s good for ye!”
Matthew doubled over with chortles, and Cash hid his smile as he nodded at the younger lad. “Yes, that should work. Remember to curl your finger around the edge, and try to hold it as straight as possible. You don’t want to let it go on an angle—it has to be flat when it hits the water.”
“Flat. Got that, Rocky?”
“You named the rock?” laughed Matthew, just as Callan swung and released the flat stone. It skipped three times—a personal best for the lad—before sinking about ten feet out.
Cash immediately nodded and exclaimed, “Oh, well done, lad!” as Matthew clapped…but Callan burst into tears.
“I miss Rocky! He was my bestest friend, and I threw him away!” he wailed.
Matthew’s eyes were wide, torn between surprise and laughter, and Cash’s brows went up. It was the lad’s mother who came to his rescue.
With a no-nonsense manner, Athena joined them at the bank. “Callan, focus. Ye asked Rocky to do his job, and he did it. He did it verra well.”
“But I miss him!”
“Then go and get him.” Her lips twitched. “Besides, ye ken good and well that Rocky wasnae yer best friend.”
The lad’s tears seemed to have magically dried. “Nay, Matthew is. Matthew, can ye fetch Rocky for me so I can try again?”
“I can…” Matthew hesitated, glancing down at his shirt and trousers. “I can fetch you another stone, if you’d like?”
Before Callan could throw another fit—goodness, Cash had forgotten what it was like to have a child young enough to require a nap—Athena tweaked her son’s nose. “Strip down to yer smalls, lads, and I’ll make sure yer clothing doesnae get dirty while ye swim.”
Before Cash could even give his approval, both boys whooped and started divesting themselves of their clothes. Over their heads, Athena cocked a brow at Cash, as if asking his permission. He inclined his head in approval.
He was a duke. It wasn’t just that he was used to getting his way, it was what was expected. His entire life had been full of people asking his opinion and suggestions and approval.
But here was a woman—a woman he knew nothing about—who had taken command of the situation, of his heir. Matthew listened to her and sought her approval in a way he’d never done with his nurses and tutors.
And Cash didn’t mind at all.
“Will ye come swimming with us, Mama?”
“Oh yes, please, ma’am? And Father? Come swimming with us?”
Cash was in the process of rolling down his trouser legs when he glanced at Athena, fully expecting her to be the one to point out the fact they weren’t wearing bathing costumes.
Instead though, she shrugged mischievously and offered them all a cheeky wink. “Perhaps. Go play while I hang up yer shirts.”
It was strangely peaceful to stand there on the riverbank, his toes in the grass and the sun on his back.
He was watching their sons play with half his attention, but the rest was on the gentle sway of Athena’s hips as she arranged the lads’ clothing over one of the branches, far away from the dirt.
He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then let it out.
When had he last felt this way? Never, not that he could recall.
There’d never been another woman who haunted his thoughts the way Athena did.
When he wasn’t with her, all he could think about was seeing her next, and when he was with her, he felt so at peace, it was almost scary.
His secretary was beginning to notice and comment on his more frequent absences. Cash had excuses for the man, but it was becoming obvious his daily attempts to sneak away to be with Athena, Callan and Matthew were becoming problematic.
What he wanted was the chance to be with them all the time, which meant what he needed was for them to be under his roof. He was ready to return to Cashard…and bring Athena and Callan with him.
He’d been thinking about that, in fact. If Athena and Callan would consent to visit Cashard as guests, perhaps once this idyllic summer began to wane, then he could have them on hand all the time.
He knew it wasn’t done for a gentleman to keep his mistress in residence with him, not when his staff would know and judge. But on the other hand, what was the bloody point of being a duke without having the clout to flout rules a bit, eh?
If he wanted his doxy to live with him, to take her meals with him so he didn’t have to take time away from business in the middle of the day in order to make himself happy, who in damnation cared? Especially since he wasn’t married anyway.
Easy, Cash. You’re getting ahead of yourself.
He hadn’t even asked Athena to become his mistress. Hell, he hadn’t even bedded the woman yet.
But he had plans.
In fact, remembering that saucy wink she’d sent at the suggestion of swimming, he decided now would be an ideal time to put said plans into motion.
He sauntered toward her and happened to catch her just as she turned around. Her hands dropped to the waist of the simple dark skirt she wore. She gasped as she realized how close he was standing to her, but she didn’t back away.
For his part, he resisted the urge to take her in his arms. “Well, Miss Oliphant? Are you willing to try your hand at swimming, fully clothed?”
They’d both gone into the river in the last weeks, but only when wearing one of those new-fangled swimming outfits, as they’d both been wearing the first time he’d met her.
Instead of balking, Athena’s smirk turned naughty. Of course it did; she wouldn’t be his Athena if she didn’t rise to meet a challenge.
“Well, Mr. Cash?” she teased, putting just enough inflection on the name to remind him they hadn’t been entirely truthful with one another. “Who says we have to be fully clothed?”
And just that quickly, her skirt dropped to her ankles.
He stepped back, shocked, and she chuckled. “Ye ought to see yer face.”
“You really— You really intend to swim?”
She was still chuckling as she went to work on her blouse’s buttons. “I’m wearing a chemise, am I no’? I will be nae more scandalous than our lads are.”
She nodded to where the two boys were cavorting; the water having stuck their light linen smalls to their pale round arses.
Cash swallowed, unable to stop imagining what she would look like with her wet chemise plastered to her curves and swells.
Bloody hell, he did not need a cockstand at that moment.
Looks like you’re going to get one though.
She was already efficiently hanging her clothing from the same limb of the oak, and when she bent to roll down her stockings, Cash swore under his breath at the sight of her rear end framed by the soft material. He began to fumble with the buttons on his trousers.
If she was going into the river mostly naked, then by God, so was he!
She turned back to him and smiled in approval, which of course shot straight to his cock. He was enough of a gentleman to turn around as he undressed, but she still hummed softly as she gathered up his discarded clothes for him.
“Are ye coming swimming too, Cash?”
“Yes. I think the cold water will do wonders for me.”
Her throaty chuckle told him she understood. “I think, perhaps, it might be safer if we swam in the deeper waters, so the water will cover us from prying eyes.”
Since she’d slipped her hand into his and was leading him toward the river, he wasn’t going to object.
“And are you a strong enough swimmer for such an endeavor?”
“Nay.” She winked at him over her shoulder. “I will have to hold on to ye.”