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water.
    Lucy reeled in the line until she felt resistance. She leaned back and pulled, snagging the line on the underwater obstacle. Her boots scrabbled for purchase on the rocks, and she braced her heels.
    “Help!” she called over her shoulder, in Toby’s direction.
    Felix came to her side. “Caught a big one, have you?”
    She nodded, making a show of struggling with the imaginary catch.
    “Toby! Kindly help me reel it in?”
    Jeremy came up behind her. “I don’t suppose you want my assistance?”
    “Certainly not.” She sidestepped onto a large boulder. What was keeping Toby? He was certainly taking his time in disentangling himself from Sophia Hathaway. Lucy leaned back again, battling the himself from Sophia Hathaway. Lucy leaned back again, battling the phantom fish with all her might.
    Henry joined the group and assessed the situation. “Your line’s caught, Lucy. That’s all.” He took a knife from his pocket and pulled it open.
    “Henry, no!” She frantically attempted to right herself.
    Too late.
    With a flick of the knife, Henry cut the line. Caught off-balance without a counterweight, Lucy pitched, reeled, and ultimately splashed headlong into the stream.
    Cold. Freezing cold water. Ice-cold mortification.
    Icy shock seized her ribcage like a vise, squeezing the air from her lungs. Lucy could not bring herself to care. She would gladly drown.
    Here, in the spot where she and Toby had passed so many pleasant afternoons. It would be a fitting end to her young life and vain hopes. For who in his right mind would marry such a perfect ninny?
    Then several strong, meddlesome hands hauled her out of the water. Lucy went limp. There could be only one thing worse than dying of shame.
    Surviving it.
    She kept her eyes tightly closed as the men dragged her onto the bank. She heard voices. Henry, Sophia, Toby, Kitty, Felix, Jeremy.
    They all spoke at once.
    “Fetch the blanket.”

    “Is she alive?”
    “Henry, you ass.”
    “She’s breathing.”
    “I wouldn’t have imagined she weighed so much.”
    “Lucy, wake up.”
    She allowed her eyelids to flutter briefly—just long enough to glimpse Henry’s face hovering above her. His eyes were troubled; his mouth a thin line. She shut her eyes again. More voices.
    “What shall we do?” Toby asked, as strong fingers brushed her hair from her face and throat. Lucy quickly disguised her sigh with a cough. Toby was touching her throat .
    “Leave her be,” Henry ordered. “She’s my sister. I’ll see to her.”
    The touching ceased. Drat Henry. His brotherly affection always surfaced at the worst possible moment.
    “Poor thing,” Sophia said.
    “Should we remove her boots?” Felix asked.
    Silence.
    “They say that, you know.” Felix again. “If you’re drowning, you ought to remove your shoes.”
    “I think that only helps while one is actually in the water,” Kitty said.
    “Lucy, wake up now.” Henry gave her a rough shake. “Stop playing around. I swear you’ll be the death of me, if I don’t kill you first.”

    “You very well may have killed her this time.” Jeremy’s voice was gruff, and nearer than she would have supposed.
    “Henry, just step aside. Let’s get her back to the house, warm her up.” Oh, now that sounded promising. Toby’s voice warmed her from the inside out, like whiskey.
    Lucy felt a pair of strong arms lifting her, tucking her body against a broad, muscled chest. Powerful strides carried her up the bank and across the uneven ground.
    She sighed and nuzzled into his coat, breathing in the deliciously masculine scents of leather and pine. Eyes closed tight, she mentally cataloged the position of each of his ten fingers on her body. A five-pointed star cupped her right shoulder; the other five formed a crescent curving around her upper thigh. The flexed muscles of his arms were thick ropes running across her back and under her knees, binding her to him.
    She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been