Chapter Sixteen #2
Marie did as ordered. She clung to the edge of the pool, sputtering and shaking and sucking in as much air as she could between hacking fits.
The woman pulled at her other arm, trying to lift her from the pool. Marie knew she should be of some use and try to climb out with the woman’s assistance, but she only had the strength to hook her elbow onto the ledge and cling.
Footsteps sounded. A shout. Arms lifted her from the pool and pulled her to a wide, hard chest. “What happened?” a familiar voice demanded.
Marie curled closer into Mr. Burton. He was so warm, and under the faint odor of refuse were the scents of cedar and pine and him. She wanted to wrap her arms around his shoulders and bury her nose in the crook of his neck, but her arms wouldn’t move.
“I forgot my bonnet,” the woman said. “I came back and there was a man holding her under. I yelled and he ran out, knocking me down. Oh, I’ve never been so frightened in my life.”
Neither had Marie.
Someone had tried to kill her.
If this woman hadn’t come back, she’d be dead. Tears streamed down her face and she could only hope her face was too wet for anyone to notice.
“Who was it?” Burton’s voice was almost unrecognizable. “Did you see who did this?”
“He’d wrapped his face with a scarf,” the woman said. “Had a hat pulled low. Dressed in black. All I can tell you is he had brown hair.”
Another voice spoke up. “I haven’t seen anyone like that. I didn’t sell him a ticket.”
“But the gate is often unoccupied. You left it to lead me to the bath.” Burton pushed wet clumps of hair off Marie’s face. “Did you see who it was?” he asked her.
Marie shook her head. “Pushed. From behind,” she rasped out.
“No use pestering the girl now.” The woman who’d saved her plucked a towel from a stack in the corner and shooed the doorman out. She tried to shoo Burton, but he was unshooable.
“Let me dry her as best we can,” the woman said. “Why don’t you go call a hackney to take her home?”
“We have a hackney,” Burton said. “And we have the same home.”
“Oh.” The woman tossed him the cloth. “Then start drying out her hair and I’ll wring out her skirts.”
Marie let them help her to standing. She stared at her bonnet floating lazily in the pool as they worked on getting her dry. When her shivering resulted more from chill than fear, she pushed away their hands. “Perhaps the sun will do the job best.”
“Of course.” Burton examined her from head to toe.
Marie blushed when she realized how much her damp gown revealed, but there was no hint of lust in his gaze. In fact, there wasn’t much of anything in Burton’s look. His expression seemed as wiped clean as Marie’s body now was. “I am all right,” she told him.
He nodded, but no relief came to his face, not a hint of a smile.
Marie’s chest tightened. She turned to the woman. “I don’t know how I can ever thank you.”
The woman shook her head. “You don’t need to. I come here once a week. It could have been you saving me.”
Marie didn’t think that likely. It would have been nice to think that this was a random act of violence, but it happening while she and Burton were looking into a murder, just after Burton had thought they were being followed, well, the coincidence seemed unlikely.
She and the woman stared at each other a moment before throwing their arms around the other. Marie would probably never see her again, yet she owed the woman her life. After one last squeeze, they parted.
Burton led Marie out of the bath. When the day’s heat greeted her, she tipped her face to the sun and sighed. She would never complain about being overly warm again.
The hackney driver opened the door, giving her a concerned look. “Did you fall in?”
“Something like that.” She clasped her elbows.
Her fingers touched thick cotton, and she looked down.
Burton had draped a towel over her shoulders, covering her bosom.
Well, that was one less thing for people to look at, but her gown was damp in other places.
She quickly climbed into the carriage, for once enjoying the stifling heat.
Burton followed. He sat across from her, his knees bracketing hers, and took her hands, chafing them gently.
Marie took her first good look at him since the incident. He was without his jacket and neckerchief. His ivory shirt gaped open to mid-chest, exposing a thatch of dark-blond curls.
Marie swallowed. “Do you think it was the man you chased who did this?”
“I don’t know.” His voice was as stony as his face.
She turned her hand over and gripped his. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you acting so…cold?”
“Cold?” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Cold?” He slammed the side of his fist into the carriage wall.
Marie jumped.
“What I feel now is as far from cold as I have ever been.” He picked up her hands again and dropped his forehead to them.
“I almost lost you. Someone held you under water and tried to kill you. And I did nothing. I didn’t catch him, didn’t save you.
So while I might not be able to name what it is I’m feeling, trust me when I say that cold is not it.
There is a burning ball of rage in my chest that I fear will only disappear when I find the man who did this. ”
She looked down at the top of his bare head, her chest going tight. Aside from her parents, she didn’t know that anyone would have cared so much about her life, not even Lady Mary. She squeezed his hands. “You pulled me out of the bath.”
He turned his head, one eye glowering up at her. He looked so peevish she couldn’t help but laugh.
“You fell into a pile of garbage chasing a man in a brown coat, then had to suffer the indignity of a woman saving me instead of you.” Marie clucked her tongue. “You are having a bad day, poor thing.”
He jerked straight. “You’re feeling badly for me? You’re the one half drowned.”
She raised one shoulder, the towel slipping off. “You shared your body’s warmth with me and now I’m only damp.”
His gaze dropped. He swallowed. “Sitting in damp clothes can’t be healthful, either. Perhaps you should take them off.”
Marie slid the towel back into place, but she took her time about it.
“You yourself said how unseasonably warm it is today,” she said lightly.
“My gown will most likely be dry before we reach Lady Mary’s.
” But what if the day weren’t warm? What if she had to snuggle into his heat once more?
She’d never been held by a man like Mr. Burton had held her in the bath.
She’d been too frightened and cold to truly appreciate it. A pity.
She looked out the window. She had almost died, and yet here she was thinking the silliest thoughts. Something must be wrong with her.
Mr. Burton shook her hands. “It’s over. You’re safe. You will remain safe.” Determination laced his last words.
Yes, she was safe. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
Safety, however, didn’t necessarily bring happiness.
Lady Mary’s words rang in her mind. Change was uncomfortable.
That didn’t mean it didn’t have value. She snuck a glance at Mr. Burton from the corner of her eye.
His presence tended to bring her a sort of discomfort.
He could make her feel unbalanced. Unsure. But perhaps that wasn’t a misfortune.
Mr. Burton raised her hands, kissed the back of first one, then the other. “However, if you ever require sharing bodily warmth again, I’m always available.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Clothing is optional.”
The muscles in Marie’s body released their tension. He could go from tender to outrageous in a snap of the fingers. Their laughter banished the remaining dark clouds the attack had brought.