“Go ahead,” Laura said. “I’m going to swim awhile longer.”

“Laura—”

“It’s all right. I’ll meet you on the beach.”

Henrietta pursed her lips, but she didn’t argue.

Laura wouldn’t have heard her if she had. She dived again and kicked away from the bathing machines. She swam until she was no longer surrounded by curious travelers. Until the noise of the beach was drowned out by the sound of the surf. Until she had no thought for romance, or money, or London solicitors.

It was freedom. Glorious freedom. Everything she could have imagined, and more.

It was also exhausting.

The sea was still smooth as glass, but beneath the surface, there was an unmistakable undertow. She hadn’t noticed it at first. It was subtle closer to the shore. Only when she’d swum out far past the bathing machines, did she begin to feel the relentless power of it.

It caught her in its grasp before she recognized the danger. When she did, she tried to swim against it, kicking as hard as she could—so hard that one of her canvas slippers came loose.

How had she managed to drift so far from the shore? Had the current been pulling her out the entire time?

She stroked her arms through the water with renewed effort. They were beginning to feel heavy. So were her legs. Had she pushed herself too far? The shore seemed a very long way away now. And her lungs were burning.

A flare of panic set in.

Perhaps she wasn’t as strong as she’d thought she was.

Alex stepped back to view Teddy’s painting from a different angle. It was the seashore—that much he recognized. As for the rest…

“There’s something compelling about it,” he said. “A feeling of movement. Of emotion, rather than accuracy. But I’m no expert.”

“It’s an experimentation with light. The way it hits the water.” Teddy cocked his head, squinting as he laid down another swipe of color with his brush. “If it comes out well, I’ll give it to Laura for her birthday next week.”

Alex went still. “I’d no idea it was her birthday.”

“She doesn’t like anyone making a fuss over it. Especially not this year.”

“What’s so special about this year?”

“She’ll be five and twenty.” Teddy raised his head, looking out past Alex’s shoulder. “There’s Henrietta. I wonder where Laura is?”

Sure enough, Henrietta Talbot walked toward them from across the sand. Her dress was a little wrinkled, and her golden hair somewhat flattened—from a bathing cap, Alex suspected.

“Good morning,” she said brightly. “Have you seen Laura?”

A frisson of tension tightened Alex’s muscles. “What do you mean?”

“She’s not been by, has she?”

“Wasn’t she with you?”