Bridge’s eyes bore into hers. They were full of concern and his jaw was tight with tension. “Are you all right?”

  She clenched her teeth to try and keep them from chattering and nodded her head.

  “Let’s go.”

  He pushed away from the boat and began to swim toward the shore. He glanced back once and she pushed away as well. Thank goodness she was in the male clothing because this would have been nearly impossible in a dress. It could be done, but it would take so much longer.

  The shore had not seemed so far away when she was in the boat, but from the water, it appeared to be miles. Her body was cold and going numb and she prayed they made it to the edge of the river before she was completely frozen. She tried her best to match his strokes, but Bridges was stronger than she and pulling further ahead. She gritted her teeth and tried to swim faster. If she kept moving she might not turn into a block of ice.

  Occasionally he glanced behind him. First to the sloop, or so she assumed because was looking back in that direction and then at her. She pushed forward and decided to keep her eyes on the shore. This was difficult enough and she didn’t want to worry about what was behind her but concentrate on what was ahead.

  The report of a gun shattered the near silence along the river and instinctively Geneviève ducked beneath the surface and continued to swim in the same direction. At least she hoped it was because she didn’t dare open her eyes underwater. When her lungs burned from lack of air, she surfaced and took a deep breath. Bridges was not far away and swimming in her direction.

  “Thank goodness,” he bit out. “I thought they had shot you.”

  She quickly glanced behind her. The sloop was at Bridge’s boat. Men were looking in their direction. Clouds moved over what little moon there was and she could barely see them. She hoped they could not see her and Bridges.

  “Come on,” he whispered.

  Turning, she began to follow him toward the shore, moving her arms and legs and quickly as possible.

  Thank God Geneviève could swim. Had she never learned, they would have been done for because Jonathan wouldn’t have left her alone in that boat. Someone had to protect the strong-minded woman and who knew what the smugglers would have done once they had them. He would have been killed. Jonathan was certain that would have been the case. He knew the names of at least five of the men. They wouldn’t have let him live. But what scared him more was what they would have done to Geneviève.

  No, he would not have stayed in the boat. No matter her clothing or swimming aptitude, he would drag her over the side and just to keep her from ending up in their clutches, even if it meant certain drowning death for both of them. As they would have died anyway, that was preferable over any torture the smugglers might have had in mind for them.

  She wasn’t a strong swimmer but she was holding her own. His concern now was the cold. The river was frigid enough, but once they were on shore, their clothing would be of no use in warming them. It was a cold February night and they would need shelter or their escape would be for not if they died of exposure.

  Another shot rang through the air. They both dove beneath the surface. Surely they were out of range but he wasn’t going to risk either of them getting shot. How could the smugglers even see them? He could barely make out their forms against the backdrop of the night sky. He and Geneviève were dressed in black and in the bloody water.

  Jonathan broke the surface when he needed air and Geneviève came up nearly beside him. She was a much quicker swimmer underwater. Just up ahead trees dipped into the water. A row of willows would be their best cover until they could safely move further inland. At least the smugglers hadn’t lowered a boat to come after them.

  “Over there,” he whispered and nodded toward the willow branches dipping into the water.

  Without a word, Geneviève swam in that direction. Soon he was able to gain purchase even though his boots sank into the mud. They waded further onto shore and hid behind the draped leaves.

  Jonathan peaked through to note the ship. The sails had been turned and they were once again sailing in their original direction. He breathed out a sigh of relief that one danger was leaving them behind. The wind had also caught the sail of his boat. It was being pushed to the shore, slowly and at an angle, but it was too cold to wait and see where it landed.

  Jonathan pushed through the mud and water until he had finally reached the shore. Geneviève followed and he held out a hand to pull her up the bank where they both fell to the ground, breathing heavy. Neither said a word and he suspected she was waiting for her heartbeat to return to normal much as he was. All too soon, the night air added another layer of cold to their already frigid clothing and Jonathan struggled to his feet before holding out his hand to help Geneviève rise. Together they walked toward what he hoped would be a road. The clouds moved away from the moon and he snuck a glance at his companion. His heart stopped for a moment before it began pounding anew. Her face was white as snow and her lips blue. He had to get her warm before it was too late.

  Grasping her hand in his, he pulled her forward and began walking at a quicker pace. If they kept moving perhaps they would begin to warm. If she succumbed to illness or worse, he would never forgive himself. It didn’t matter that she had insinuated herself into the situation and boarded his boat when she should have remained at the house, tucked warmly in bed waiting for them. He should have locked her up in the warehouse where she would have been safe and then he wouldn’t be worrying about if she would suffer a grievous illness because of him.

  Where the hell was John and his wife? They were on horseback and he assumed they were on this road. Were they behind them or further ahead? Did they even notice to sloop turned back and they shot into the water?

  Well, they couldn’t keep walking along the road, hoping the two came along soon. “We need to find shelter.”

  Geneviève stumbled to his side. She must be exhausted from the swim and now the walking. Yet, they couldn’t rest yet. The wind was turning bitter cold and they would die out here.

  Holding tight to her hand, he led her to what he thought was the road. There had to be a house along here somewhere. “Keep a lookout for shelter.”

  She nodded but did not say anything. She probably couldn’t from the chattering of her teeth.

  After walking for a few minutes, Geneviève pointed to a small dirt road to their left. “There.” It was more of a narrow drive than a road and he prayed it led to some type of structure. Together they picked their way past the ruts and the overgrown trees and bushes. If this were summer and the trees fully leafed out, they might not have seen it.

  “Thank goodness,” she breathed out as a small structure came into view. Jonathan could not make out much of it, but it didn’t matter. Inside they would be sheltered.

  There was no light from within. Perhaps the occupants were already asleep but he would disturb them no matter what the hour. They paused at the door and he knocked. When there was no answer, he pounded on the door. Still nothing. The place was a bit run down. Perhaps it was abandoned. Geneviève tried the handle. It turned. Jonathan stepped before her and pushed the door open. It was completely dark inside. Either the owners were gone or they were very sound sleepers.

  He ushered her inside and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness he noted the large fireplace on the far wall. Closing the door behind them, he made his way to the opening. There was no wood inside, but some was stacked ready to be used. He added kindling before the larger logs and located a flint on the mantel. His hands shook so badly from the cold he was surprised he could light anything. The kindling was dry and old and took to the flame almost immediately. He fanned the small fire until there was no fear of it blowing out and soon the wood caught.

  With the additional light in the room, he could now see where they were. It was a small cottage with only a chair, table, and bed. Blankets were folded neatly at the end of the bed. “You need to get out of your clothing.”

  Chapter 20

  Geneviève tried to undress but couldn’t manage to get even one button undone. She couldn’t seem to make her fingers work. Perhaps when the feeling returned she would have more success. She sat on a small stool and struggled to pull her boots off.

  Why couldn’t she grip anything? This was becoming too difficult and she half wondered if it was worth it. Couldn’t she just pull a blanket from the bed, curl up before the fire, and sleep for a bit?

  “Here.” Bridges knelt at her feet and tugged the boots off of her.

  Geneviève sighed and wiggled her stiff toes. Bridges had moved to a chair and yanked both of his boots. She thrust her hands before the flames in an attempt to warm them before she once again tried to remove her waistcoat. Her hands shook and her fingers were stiff with cold. Undressing should not be this difficult. Jonathan came back to her side and make quick work of the buttons, fastenings, and everything else that held her clothing together and soon Geneviève was stripped to a short, thin chemise and her trousers.

  He sucked in his breath and turned his back. “You should wrap yourself in a blanket and rest.”

  Geneviève glanced down and heat infused her cheeks. Her chemise did little to hide her breasts. Her nipples were erect from the cold and the wet material clung to her skin, thin enough to reveal the darkness at the tips of her breasts. She should be more embarrassed that he had seen her as such, but she would rather stand before him naked and warm than remain in wet clothing for propriety’s sake.

  She pulled the chemise from her body and let it drop to the floor with her other clothing before pealing the trousers from her body. Once they were removed she rushed across the room and grabbed one of the blankets, wrapping it around her body and returning to the fire. “I am sufficiently covered.”

  Jonathan had already removed his waistcoat and wore only his linen shirt and trousers. The material clung to his back as her chemise had clung to her breasts. With each movement, she could see the muscles ripple in his shoulders, back, and arms.

  He gave a nod. “Please keep your back turned until I tell you.”

  Geneviève forced herself to look away, but not before she caught a glimpse of how the trousers clung to his tight buttocks. Goodness, she was warming already.

  She leaned forward and slipped the stockings from her feet. Her toes were white from being in the water and cold for so long. She pulled the blanket closer. It may be rough against her skin, but she didn’t care because at least it was dry and she went about spreading her clothing out so that it would dry more quickly.

  Slowly her skin began to warm, though she still shivered. Her hands and feet ached and there were tiny pinprick sensations in her fingers and toes that were near painful. Bridges laid his clothes out as well before he settled beside her, sitting close enough that they nearly touched. She slid a glance toward him. He too was wrapped in a blanket. Goodness, they were both as naked as the day they were born underneath the wool.

  If society learned about this she would be ruined beyond repair. Thankfully, society barely knew of her existence. She was the younger sister of Lady Acker and that was it. Perhaps she could use this to her advantage. She could threaten Bentley that if he continued to force his will upon her, introducing her to a group of people she did not wish to know, she would announce that she had been with Bridges this night, unclothed. Bentley might just change his plans so as not to bring further disgrace to the family.

  More likely he would force a marriage, which would not do at all. She had no complaint against Bridges, she simply didn’t want to enter a forced union, which is what Bentley would do. So, as much as she wished to have something to hang over Bentley to keep him from forcing her into Society, knowledge of this night would not be it.

  It was a shame that something as innocent as the circumstances they found themselves in could become an embarrassment to the family. She hadn’t planned on swimming in the Thames and ending up here. She had thought to catch some smugglers.

  Bridges stood and began to examine the room. There was a bed not far from the fire. She would dearly love to lie down and sleep, but that would be rude as it was only the two of them. Bridges wandered to it. Pulled back a blanket that had been thrown across it and inspected the mattress. “It seems fit and clean.”

  “You should rest.” Shouldn’t she be warm by now? She may no longer be shaking with cold but she was far from warm.

  “I will rest in the chair, but you should get into the bed.”

  “I am not about to do so.” It wasn’t fair that she be comfortable. Besides, the bed was too far from the fire. “It is warmer here.”

  “Don’t argue with me Geneviève.”

  She blinked up at Bridges. He had never called her by her given name before. Of course, given the circumstances, it was silly to stand on formality. “I am not about to allow you to be uncomfortable all night in a chair.” She came to her feet, though she didn’t move from the warmth of the fire. “If I weren’t here, the bed would be yours alone. I am the one that came along uninvited.”

  He sighed and pushed his fingers through his hair. The blanket slipped revealing a broad shoulder and the right side of this chest. It was as muscular as she imagined. Her blood heated.

  “There is no reason for them to know and we need to get warm.”

  “Are you suggesting we share the bed?” He stared at her. “Are you truly so innocent?”

  She knew what damage could be done if anyone learned and it wouldn’t matter how innocent the intentions. “Nobody will know and why should we remain uncomfortable because of what Society may think. They aren’t here.”

  “Get into the bed, Geneviève,” Bridge bit out.

  She rolled her eyes again. “Very well.” She turned and crawled onto the mattress, keeping the blanket tight. If he wanted to be uncomfortable, who was she to argue with him? Blasted men with their principals. Didn’t he realize that if they were together, with blankets properly around them of course, they would both be warmer?

  He pulled the chair close to the fire and sat.

  Already she missed the heat. The bed was further away from the hot flames than she realized. She pulled the blanket tighter and curled into herself. While she may be more comfortable here, she certainly wasn’t warmer. Perhaps she should return to the fire and lay on the floor. The rug they had been sitting on wasn’t all that clean though, and the floor beneath it was also hard and her body ached. With a sigh, she let her eyes close. Eventually, warmth would return to her limps, at least she hoped that was the case.

  Jonathan had sat as close to Geneviève as he dared. He had hoped that between the warmth of the fire, in addition to their bodies, he would stop shivering. The pads of his fingers and toes were shriveled from the water and his body ached from exertion. He pulled the blanket tighter when he had wanted to wrap his arms around Geneviève. To keep from doing so, he left her side and studied the room, and put a bit of distance between him and temptation.

  Neither were wearing anything under their blankets and the blood stirred in his veins. If the two of them shared the blankets, they would warm much more quickly, but he didn’t dare. To do so would lead to his touching her and more. The icy Thames had done much to shrivel the most obvious evidence of his desire, but, as his body warmed that would also change. Already he was gaining the feeling back in his hands, feet, and legs. Given what he had managed to do with Geneviève not long ago, while they were fully clothed, only proved that he couldn’t control himself.

  When she suggested that they share the bed, he had nearly jumped at the opportunity, but he knew immediately where it would lead. It didn’t matter that he was half-frozen at the moment. With her, in his arms, everything would thaw almost immediately and he didn’t trust that he could keep himself from making love to her.

  Jonathan blew out a breath. Of course, he could control himself. It might be difficult if they were here too long, but he would not seduce her.

  He glanced at her once again. The last thing Geneviève needed was him making advances. She needed rest and he would see that she got it.

  Her hair was beginning to dry, creating a halo of curls about her head. Color had returned to her cheeks. Her lips were no longer blue and she looked so enticing.

  Though the blankets were dry, they were also thin, offering little warmth. Even now she shivered in her sleep. At least he assumed she slept. She had closed her eyes nearly half an hour ago, but she was still cold.

  Blast, why was he sitting in this chair. Geneviève may be everything he did not want in a wife, but he did admire her strength, intelligence, and determination. She had helped him solve the problem with his invoices, but would she continue to insinuate herself into his business?

  Of course, she would.

  He had wanted a wife who concerned herself with the household and future children. One who spent her days shopping and gossiping with friends. Not a business partner.

  But, would having a wife who understood the needs of every day be such a burden? Many of his friend’s spouses had no idea what their husband’s days were like when they were away from home. They only concerned themselves with pen money, or which ball they would attend, when a husband might simply wish to relax with a glass of brandy after a long day.

  It would be nice to return home and have someone to talk to for a change. To unburden himself of any problems he encountered, or share in the news of a profitable day. Geneviève would understand and he would be able to tell her everything.

  These last months had been difficult. He had been unable to share his problems with anyone, too afraid of who he could and could not trust. When he finally explained to Geneviève the situation, she didn’t rail at him as he expected but joined him in solving the problems. It would be nice not to be alone any longer. To never be alone again and to have someone to share the good and the bad.

  Besides that, she was beautiful. Probably the most beautiful woman he had ever encountered.