Free Sharon Sobel by Lady Larkspur Declines (v5.0) (epub) Page B

man, as you once did. Gentlemen are not so constrained and can swim wherever they wish.”
    As if to punctuate her point, two men and a large dog suddenly appeared on the beach just beyond Mr. Knighton’s array of bathing machines. One of them glanced towards the building and, apparently satisfied they had no audience, started to pull off his shirt. The dog bounced excitedly into the waves, chasing a gull. In a moment, the two men followed, leaving behind a pile of clothing on the pebbly beach.
    Janet squeezed the flesh of Lark’s arm, but said nothing. Nor did they turn away from the window, as propriety certainly demanded.
    “Yes,” Lark breathed, a little unsteadily. “It would be gloriousto be a man, and to be allowed to follow the dictates of one’s own heart.”
    From her wheeled chair on the wide veranda, Lark lazily watched the progress of the workmen as they completed the positioning of the bathing machines upon the beach. Each stood about twenty feet from another, on its own track. An open book lay on Lark’s lap, but she had abandoned its trite story at least an hour before in favor of studying all those who joined her in the sun and those who gathered along the waves. Janet, apparently finding her own book equally unsatisfying, asked permission to wander off and explore something of the town.
    A cheer went up from the corner table, where several of Mr. Knighton’s patients played at whist. Lord Scafell and Herr Schwarzwald, brothers-in-law alike in disposition and ailment, made an uncompromising team, and were accustomed to defeating all opponents. In spite of their deserved reputation, they were nevertheless challenged every afternoon, on this day by Lady Crawford and the bright-eyed Miss Hathawae. Judging by the looks on the gentlemen’s faces, the challenge had been met.
    Nearby, in a chair facing the building, Mrs. Wertham labored at her needlework. Lark had offered to help her on more than one occasion, for the lady’s fingers were twisted with disease and age, but the stubborn worker continued tenaciously, pausing only to change the color of her yarn and to complain about the noisy gulls.
    Entertainment of a sort was provided by Colonel Wayland, a blustery gentleman who seemed to have little to do but to recount his exploits in America and remind anyone within earshot that he would not have been confined at Knighton’s but for the severe injuries he had sustained in his battles against the Indians. Usually such sentiments were followed by an invitation to examine his scars, though it was likely to be refused. Janet, however, believed Herr Schwarzwald already had a passing familiarity with the colonel’s scars, and she said as much to Lark.
    Of the great man, Mr. Knighton, they heard nothing. The nurses and servants appeared to have their orders, and the daily lives of the sanatorium inmates moved along in an organized, peaceful manner. No one seemed to have any direneeds, nor did anyone seem to improve in health. The arrival of the bathing machines, however, heralded some great changes in their situations, and everyone appeared to be very excited about testing the waves. For now, the water was reported to be cold enough to induce paralysis, but only days away from being stimulating.
    One of the servants approached Colonel Wayland’s chair and bobbed very prettily as she handed him a card. Wayland, scarcely pausing in his speech, nodded, and the girl turned to wave in a gentleman from at the doorway.
    Lark twisted coyly in her seat, eager for some diversion and nearly certain she would see Mr. Gabriel Siddons, a young man who visited his uncle almost daily. She was not disappointed, but turned back quickly, lest she appear too interested. While he always seemed to have important matters to discuss with the colonel, her vanity insisted he also enjoyed the moments he spent in a mild flirtation with her.
    “Good afternoon, Lady Larkspur,” the soft voice purred. She thought she heard a hint of a