Part 12 (1/2)
”Turned his back on generations of tradition by refusing to buy colors. Instead, he is studying for the church.”
”Black indeed,” he agreed on another laugh. Her eyes were glittering with pleasure in a way he had not seen in ten years.
”Absolutely. I doubt Vincent's father has gotten over the shock yet, though he made the decision five years ago. Vincent has spent long breaks with the colonel since his mother died.”
The race was nearing the halfway point, with all three boats rounding the island. Harry was in the lead, with Edwin and Vincent only one length behind. Feminine shouts of encouragement echoed across the lake.
The crowd swelled along the sh.o.r.e as the boats raced back. The gentlemen had removed their close-cut coats, which would have hampered their rowing. Muscles rippled across their shoulders as they dug the oars deep into the water. One of the girls on the bank swooned at the sight of so much undress.
Harry was losing ground.
”Not enough time in Gentleman Jackson's boxing rings,” murmured James.
Mary's expression revealed her conviction that Harry spent all his days in boudoirs.
”He is not that bad,” he protested, ”But he is more interested in marksmans.h.i.+p than boxing, so he gets little exercise in town.”
”How did you know what I thought?”
”Reading your mind, Mary. It isn't the first time. Was I wrong?”
She shook her head, then blushed.
”Almost to the finish.” He ignored her discomfort. ”Come on, Edwin. Two good pulls should do it.” Edwin and Vincent were still neck and neck, though Harry was now half a length back.
”He won!” Mary laughed as Edwin shot ahead.
Actually, Vincent had swerved off course. At the last moment, Lucy had leaned over the side to better see the finish line, throwing the boat off balance and pulling one oar out of the lake. It sprayed her with water as the boat twisted, losing momentum and letting both opponents cross ahead of them.
Lucy's shriek disturbed the dearly departed in the Ridgefield churchyard. ”Clumsy oaf! You've ruined my gown!” She jumped to her feet, brus.h.i.+ng frantically at the spots.
Vincent stammered an apology.
”Sit down, Lucy,” ordered Sir Maxwell, pus.h.i.+ng through the crowd. ”It's only a little water. And it's your own fault for upsetting the boat. Sit down before you fall in.”
”Water ruins silk!” wailed Lucy, ignoring him as she twisted to survey the damage. Tears coursed down her cheeks. ”How could you be so horrid? I should never have gone rowing with you!”
”Why would anyone wear silk to a picnic?” asked Mary as they raced toward the lake. Everyone within hearing of that screech was doing the same thing. She stumbled, grabbing James's arm to steady herself.
”Undoubtedly it's a new gown,” said James absently, ignoring Lucy's megrims. Mary's grasp on his arm tingled clear to his toes, yet he dared not respond lest drawing attention to her continued grip raise new fear in her eyes.
”Stupid.” Mary shook her head. ”This is her most idiotic display yet. And her mother isn't much better,” she added as Lady Granger's screams joined Lucy's.
”Somebody save my baby! She'll drown!”
Lucy was counting water spots, dancing up and down as her hysteria mounted.
Vincent was trying to calm her, but she remained deaf to his instructions, rocking the boat so badly that he had no chance of reaching her. ”Sit down,” he finally ordered in exasperation. They were only ten feet from sh.o.r.e, but he could not pull them closer without knocking Lucy into the water.
”Spiteful boy! You've ruined it,” sobbed Lucy. ”On purpose. My newest gown. How could you?”
Everyone on the sh.o.r.e was shouting for her to sit down. Harry and Edwin helped their pa.s.sengers out, then returned to the lake.
”Grab her!” shrieked Lady Granger, realizing that the other boats would never arrive in time. ”Don't let her fall.”
”Sit down, Lucy!” shouted Sir Maxwell, his face red with fury. No one in attendance would dream of offering for the girl now.
Vincent inched forward, swaying to counterbalance her antics and steady the boat.
”Get out!” cried Lucy, abandoning the spots. ”I hate you.” She slapped him, rocking the boat sharply to the left.
”Sit down!” Sir Maxwell's bellow made the onlookers jump, but Lucy ignored him.
Vincent grabbed the gunwale as the boat swung hard to the right, then lunged forward in an attempt to tackle her.
”Stay away. Don't touch me,” Lucy cried, jumping onto the seat. ”You've caused enough trouble.”
She retreated another step and fell into the lake.
Lady Granger swooned.
Harry arrived and pulled Lucy up by her hair. She choked a couple of times, then screamed.
”The water can't be more than waist deep,” Mary called.
”Thanks.” Harry s.h.i.+fted his grip to Lucy's arm. ”Stand up.”
She kicked her feet, screaming louder.
Edwin maneuvered close enough to grab the other arm. They dunked her.
”Stand up,” growled Harry when she came up sputtering. ”You are perfectly safe, but you are making a complete cake of yourself and risk becoming a laughingstock if you do not pull yourself together.”
One of her feet hit the bottom and she gasped.
”Stand up.”
The moment she got both feet under her, they dropped her arms.
”Now walk.”
”Poor girl,” murmured Mary.
Lucy slogged toward sh.o.r.e. Her gown clung to her unprepossessing figure. Weeds dragged at her legs. Hair dangled down her back. When she noted the size of her audience, her face flushed.
Someone coughed. Several of the younger guests giggled.