“I’m not big,” Anna said, lifting herself on her elbow and pushing her hair from her face. Of all the indignities, being called fat in front of Lord Greyley was more than she could handle. “I’m just tall. And I’m don’t need a horse. Really. I…I just need to rest.”

Anthony didn’t comment. There was no denying that her usually pale skin was even whiter than usual.

An unfamiliar stir of sympathy made Anthony turn to Sir Phineas. “Could you take the children back to the house? I will bring Miss Thraxton as soon as she has regained her breath.”

“We can’t leave yet,” Selena said, sucking on her finger. “She might throw up.”

Five hopeful gazes fixed on the governess while Sir Phineas manfully struggled to hide a grin.

Anna moaned and turned on her side. Sir Phineas hastily took Elizabeth and Selena by the hand and led them away. The other children followed, glancing back with regret. Only Selena voiced an objection, and that was to ask for someone to call them back immediately if Miss Thraxton fell ill.

Anthony waited patiently. After a moment, she sat up, her breathing more controlled. Her hair was knotted and tangled and a lump of lily pad hung over one ear. The water had darkened her red hair to a deep, rich auburn.

Anthony watched her, reluctantly admiring her. She’d been so damned determined to find his shoes and spare the children that she’d put herself at risk. He suddenly wondered if this was how she’d managed such success as a governess, by protecting her charges as if they were her own. “Are you better now?”

She managed to nod. “I think so.”

He stooped down so that he could see her face. Her dark brown lashes were splayed across her cheeks in perfect, pointed crescents. He reached out and slid a finger over them, disturbing the collected moisture on her cheeks.

Anna jerked away as if burned. “What are you doing?”

“Wondering how you can see through such thick lashes. They tangle at the corners, you know.”

“So do yours,” she replied, then flushed a deep, delightful pink.

Anthony’s groin tightened. God, but she was a magnificent woman—more woman than he’d ever known.

She pushed herself to her knees. “I really can swim, you know. It has just been a while.”

“How long?”

“I think I was ten. Somehow, I was better at it then.”

“I daresay you’d remember how if you had more practice.” He stood and held out his hand.

Without demur, she placed her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. “I don’t know what to say. This is quite awkward.”

“Drowning usually is.” He watched her mouth press together in a most delightful manner. Though she was thoroughly wet and beginning to sniffle, she still managed to possess an innate elegance. She would make a commanding countess.

Good God, where had that come from? She might have the air one expected from a countess, but not the manner.