Everything and the Moon (The Lyndon Sisters #1)(69)

—R

A swim? Was the man batty? Granted, it was summer, but it was not a particularly sunny day, and the water had to be freezing. Victoria went to a window to see if she could see Robert in the surf, but the water was too far below her to make anything out. She ran upstairs and put on her shoes. Because she didn't have a shawl—indeed, she didn't even have a change of clothing save the seductively cut blue silk nightgown that he had picked out for her—she took a thin blanket to wrap around her shoulders. The wind appeared to be picking up, and the sky was growing darker. She doubted her dress would be warm enough to brave the elements.

Victoria dashed back downstairs and out the front door. To her left she could see a path leading down the steep hill to the rocky beach. The path was very narrow, so she took careful steps as she began her descent, using one hand to hold the blanket around her shoulders and the other for balance. After several minutes of careful footwork, she reached the bottom and scanned the horizon for Robert.

Where was he?

She cupped her hands to her lips and bellowed his name. She heard no response save the swishing sound of the surf. She hadn't really expected him to yell back, but a wave or a motion to show that he was still alive would have been nice.

She clutched the blanket closer to her body, then arranged it so it would protect her clothing as she sat down.

The wind grew more fierce, and the salt air stung her cheeks. Her hair was beginning to grow stiff, her toes were freezing, and damn it, where was Robert? It couldn't be safe to be out swimming in this weather. She stood again, scanned the horizon, and yelled his name. Then, just when she decided that her situation could not get any worse, a sharp raindrop stabbed her cheek.

Victoria looked down, saw that her arms were shaking, and then realized that it wasn't because of the cold. She was terrified. If Robert drowned…

She couldn't even complete the thought. She was still angry with him for his high-handed behavior this past week, and she wasn't at all certain that she wanted to marry him, but the thought of him forever gone from this world was beyond comprehension.

The rain grew thicker. Victoria continued to yell Robert's name, but the wind refused to carry her words to sea. She felt helpless and impotent. There was absolutely no point in venturing into the water to save him—he was a much stronger swimmer than she was, and besides, she hadn't a clue where he was. So she just bellowed his name yet again. Not that he could hear her, but it was the only thing she could do.

And doing nothing was pure agony.

She watched as the sky darkened ominously, listened as the wind's shrieks grew more ferocious—and told herself to breathe evenly as her heart raced with panic. And then, just when she was sure she would explode with frustration, she saw a flash of pink on the horizon.

She ran to the water's edge. “Robert!” she screamed. A minute passed, and then she could finally make out that the object in the water was indeed a man.

“Oh, thank God, Robert,” she breathed, running into the calf-deep water. He was still much too far away for her to be of any use, but she couldn't stop herself from moving toward him. Besides, it seemed silly to worry about her wet ankles when the rain had already soaked through her clothing.

She waded out farther until the waves smacked her knees. The current was strong, pulling her out toward the horizon, and she shook with fear. Robert was fighting that same current. She could see him more closely now; his strokes were still strong, but they were growing uneven. He was getting tired.

She yelled his name yet again, and this time he stopped and looked up while treading water. His mouth moved, and in her heart Victoria knew that he had said her name.

He put his head back down and swam forward. It might have been Victoria's imagination, but it looked as if he was moving a little faster now. She reached her arms out and took another step forward. Only ten yards or so separated them now. “You're almost there!” she shouted. “You can do it, Robert!”

The water was at her waist and then suddenly it was over her head, a giant wave crashing above her. She tumbled into a somersault, and for a moment she had no idea which way was up. And then, miraculously, her feet touched the ground, and her face found the air. She blinked, realized that she was now facing the shore, and turned around just in time to see Robert staggering into her. His chest was bare, and his breeches were plastered to his thighs.

He practically fell against her. “My God, Victoria,” he gasped. “When I saw you go down…” Clearly unable to finish his sentence, he bent at the waist, gasping for air.

Victoria grabbed his arm and began to pull. “We've got to get to the shore,” she pleaded.

“Are you—are you all right?”

She gaped at him through the driving rain. “You're asking that of me? Robert, you were miles from shore! I couldn't see you. I was terrified. I—” She stopped. “Why am I discussing this now?”

They stumbled to shore. Victoria was cold and weak, but she knew that he was weaker, so she forced her legs to pull them along. He clung to her, and she could feel his legs wobbling beneath him.

“Victoria,” he gasped.

“Don't say anything.” She concentrated on the shore, and when she reached it she concentrated on the path.

He ground to a halt, though, forcing her to stop. He took her face into his hands, ignoring the rain and the wind, and looked into her eyes. “Are you all right?” he repeated.