Free The Training of a Marquess by Sandra Owens

ripples. When he surfaced, the twins madly clapped their hands.
    “That was the most splendid of things,” Harry said. “Will you teach us how to do it?”
    “When I’m confident you’re good swimmers I’ll teach you how to jump first, then how to dive.”
    Satisfied, Harry and Bensey started a splash war. Chase glanced up at the trees from the corner of his eye and caught a sliver of pale hair flash in the sun. He grinned. Prepare yourself, my sneaky little minx, you haven’t seen anything, yet.
    He waded out of the lake and picked up a drying cloth. Turning his back to her, he leisurely rubbed it over his body. When he bent over to dry his legs, he stole a peek from under his arm. Claire leaned out from behind the tree, her eyes wide and staring. He stifled a laugh and called to the boys to come dry off. She disappeared into the forest.
    “Happy to oblige,” he murmured.
    Riding back to Hillcrest Abbey, his mind was full of Claire Tremaine. Again. He couldn’t help but to be amused by her antics today. Had she never seen a man’s body? She had been married four years, for God’s sake. How could one be married that long, yet never been kissed or seen a man without his clothes?
    Clearly, Derebourne had bedded her as she had given birth to a son. Chase had heard there were men who bedded their wives in the dark, only lifting their nightdress enough to do the thing. He might understand if she was hard to look on, but Claire was far from unsightly. You were a fool , he told the dead Derebourne.
    If she were his wife...he ruthlessly shut the thought down. He’d avoided her for most of the day for his own peace of mind. Kissing her had been a monumental mistake, even if it had been a kiss he couldn’t stop thinking about.
    ****
    Claire rushed into her room, closed and locked the door. Sweet heavens. When Chase had bent over with his back to her, she hadn’t been able to look away. Even though she should have, because what kind of woman spied on a naked man? His lean, muscled body was a piece of art and should be in a museum on display. Although the mere idea of other women looking at him in appreciation didn’t settle well.
    And oh, the sight of his buttocks outlined by the wet linen of his drawers—all firm and rounded—and his powerful legs had caused her mouth to dry.
    She would die if he knew she had been hiding in the trees and watching him. This couldn’t continue. She had her kiss. Now, she needed to concentrate on her goal of convincing him to give her the horses, or make an arrangement to purchase them.
    She rang the bell for her maid and unlocked her door. Maggie arrived and helped her into her widow’s weeds and white lace cap. The sound of carriage wheels on the gravel drive floated up. Claire glanced out the window and groaned at seeing Mrs. Fisherman, the vicar’s wife, and her daughter step out. She pushed the last strands of hair under her cap and waited for Smithfield to send word she had visitors.
    In the drawing room, Mrs. Fisherman droned on as she importantly disclosed the latest village gossip. Claire’s thoughts strayed to Chase and the way his wet body had looked when he emerged from the lake—the droplets of water on his skin glistening in the sun. She had touched that muscle-hard chest and wanted to do it again.
    “Lady Derebourne!”
    Claire blinked. “My apologies. I just recalled something I need to tell my housekeeper. You were saying?”
    Mrs. Fisherman gave a small tsk. “I was saying, if you had been listening, my lady, that I understand the new marquess is in residence. Is he available for introductions? I’m quite certain he would wish to make the acquaintance of my dear Rhonda. As soon as I heard he had arrived, I knew we must have an assembly to welcome him. The ladies planning committee agreed and we have set aside a week from Saturday.”
    Oh, no. Mrs. Fisherman couldn’t possibly think Chase would be interested in her daughter. Rhonda was one and twenty, and for