The Notorious Lord
She had
taken too much cider for breakfast.
Miss Rachel Odell could
think of no other explanation for the sudden and wholly unexpected sight of
a naked man, who emerged from the thicket of willows some fifty yards down
the riverbank and started to stroll towards her with all the aplomb of a
gentleman entering a dowager’s drawing room.
The book Rachel had been
reading slid from her hand and fell against the earthenware flask of
cider with a tiny clink. In the quiet air the sound was enough to carry.
Rachel saw the man go still, like an animal sensing danger. He turned
his head and looked directly towards her. Rachel’s heart skipped several
beats. The excited feeling in the pit of her stomach faded. Now that she
could see his face clearly she recognised him at once as Cory Newlyn, a
childhood friend of hers and colleague of her parents. She was
embarrassed that she had not realised his identity sooner, and felt a
curious mix of awareness and familiarity. She had not recognised him
because
she had been concentrating, most
improperly, on other parts of his anatomy rather than his face. And she had
enjoyed the view. Now, however, she felt differently. He was an old friend,
after all, and one did not ogle old friends in such a manner. It was over a
year since she had seen Cory, and she had not anticipated coming across him
here, but he was not the sort of man that one forgot. And she was never,
ever going to forget him in future, not after this experience.
Rachel found her voice.
“Cory Newlyn! What on earth
are you doing?”
Her words came out like the
screech of a fishwife on the wharves at Deptford. She saw Cory jump, his
eyes widening with surprise. He grabbed at a large lily leaf from a nearby
pool and held it strategically in front of him as he came towards he along
the bank. As an item of clothing it left a great deal to be desired and
Rachel kept her gaze riveted on his face, avoiding a shocking compulsion to
focus elsewhere.
“Rachel! How delightful to
find you here.” Cory’s voice carried easily to her, for by now he was a mere
twenty yards away. “I had been thinking recently,” he continued, “how nice
it would be to see more of you.”
“I can see almost all of you at
present,” Rachel said, shielding her eyes with her hand, “and it is a deal
too much! What are you doing? Where are your clothes? Go away and get
dressed at once!”
