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“Yes, my lady. He went to bathe in the stream.”

Isabel looked out the window and instantly wrapped her arms around her. The weather was gloomy, and it couldn’t have been warm. So why was he washing up in the stream instead of the house?

“Thank you, Mr. Monroe.”

She put a shawl around her shoulders and went in search of her husband. The wind blew straight into her face, slowing her pace. Now that she thought about it, she should have waited inside the house. And what did she hope to accomplish by hunting him down?

Nevertheless, she wasn’t one to turn back from a challenge. And perhaps the fresh country air was exactly what she needed. She raised her head to the sky, enjoying her walk and thinking about all the things she could help teach Millie once her education started.

A slight smile adorned her lips. When Isabel was younger, she loved to teach her little sister Samantha everything she knew.

With all the difficulties in their lives and all Isabel’s duties, she’d completely forgotten how much she enjoyed spending time teaching Sam.

Isabel had always wanted to have a daughter. When circumstances had changed, and she was forced to embrace spinsterhood, she’d forgotten about her dreams, but they were always there at the back of her mind. And now perhaps she could finally have her dream.

Isabel approached the woods about ten minutes later. She looked around, wondering if she had missed her husband somehow. There was no one nearby, and she did not see footsteps leading back to the house.

If her husband was still at the stream, she’d go and meet him then. She stepped into the woods and proceeded toward the picnic place, hoping that would be where he chose to swim.

Only once she arrived on the spot did she understand her folly.

Her husband was bathing in the stream!

What was she supposed to do once she found him? Help him wash? She giggled, her face heating at the idea. Perhaps he was already done.

She searched the bank but did not see Vane there. Had he already left? Had she missed him?

She turned toward the water and instantly spotted him. How could she not?

He stood waist-deep, splashing his face and shoulders.

Isabel’s mouth went dry. Her husband was absolutely magnificent. His corded muscles glistened, his shoulders were large and powerful, and his chest was covered with dark hair that thinned at his flat, corded stomach. Her gaze followed lower, but water covered the rest of him. Isabel couldn’t help but wish she could see more.

She caught herself on the wanton thought and squeezed her eyes shut. What was she doing?

She heard more splashing and opened her eyes just in time to see Vane emerging from the water. He walked toward the shore, water running down his slick body in rivulets. Her gaze slid lower to the place between his legs of its own accord. A patch of hair covered a tiny appendage.

Oh.

Isabel had only seen that part of male anatomy once, and she did not remember it too much. Somehow she thought it’d be larger.

As Vane walked further out of the water, her gaze got distracted by his thighs—the powerful thighs of an expert rider.

Isabel stood frozen in place, watching her husband in all his naked glory. A few more steps, and he reached the bank.

Oh, Lord! What am I doing?

Isabel turned away and covered her eyes with her hands. Her face felt hot to her touch, and acute embarrassment settled in her chest. She needed to leave and fast. Before Vane figured out that she was watching him like a complete wanton!

She made a step and tripped over her skirts. She caught herself against the nearby tree, but it was too late.

The noise must have caught Vane’s attention because he called out, “Who’s there?”

Isabel grimaced. She couldn’t very well keep hiding out from him and then hope to outrun the man back home. She picked up her skirts and stepped onto the bank.

“It’s just me.”

To her relief, Vane had already put on his breeches and boots, although he was still naked from the waist up.