“I would imagine so. They made me captain because of it.”

She turned to him and they stopped walking near the shade of a large oak tree. She leaned back against the bark and tilted her head to the side, genuinely intrigued. “Truly?”

“Indeed. I even served under the command of Wellington in the Seventh Coalition. That’s when I decided I’d had enough. After a life spent on the sea, I wanted to set down some roots and establish my trade.”

“You must be a hero to have fought during the Battle of Waterloo,” she murmured.

He leaned his right hand against the tree, moving his body perilously close to hers. He lowered his voice as he began to slowly untie the ribbon holding her bonnet in place with his left. “I’m no hero. Many men suffered much more than I did. I was just there to assist with my ship if needed, a simple man who wanted to serve his country.”

She couldn’t seem to move her eyes away from his face as her bonnet fell the ground, unheeded. “And what do you hope to accomplish now?”

“Now,” he echoed, his eyes darkening to a deep, rich green as his gaze settled on her hair and then slowly dropped to her mouth. “I’m just a boy who wants to kiss a girl.”

Cornell heard the catch in Pleasant’s breath as he bent down to capture her full mouth. The moment she’d opened the door, it had been all he could think of. Every time she darted her delicious pink tongue out to lick a crumb from her scone, or the way his body had heated when his thigh had touched hers—all of it combined had made him determined to acquire this single, stolen moment.

He noticed that her siblings were still down by the pond, paying them no mind, so it was the perfect opportunity to taste her. However, he hadn’t been prepared for the shock of awareness that stole through him the moment they became one. His left arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against him so that he might deepen the embrace. He waited for her to try and pull away, but when she only gasped and melted into him, he was lost.

With a growl deep in his throat, he captured the back of her head with his right hand and coaxed her mouth open with his tongue. When she did, he delved inside. She was clinging to his shoulders and trembling slightly, and he realized that he had to take this slow. She was an innocent, and here he was, ready to lift her skirts in the middle of Hyde Park and rut against the tree like some sort of unscrupulous rogue.

Reluctantly, he forced himself to pull back. When her eyes opened, they were sparkling with a mixture of confusion and passion. What he wouldn’t give to fully unlock that potential. Either way, he knew that after that kiss, paying a visit to Madame LeFleur’s establishment was out of the question. Something told him that this woman had just ruined him for all others.

Cornell frowned slightly, for he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Pea! Come quick! It’s Connor!”

The urgent shouts coming from the pond had Pleasant quickly coming back to her senses. She blinked away the glaze that had covered her eyes and ran toward the sound of distress. Cornell followed her and clenched his jaw when he saw the scene in front of him. Fiona was sitting on a nearby rock, crying pitiful tears, and Niall was kneeling by Connor who was lying on the ground. He was wet and didn’t appear to be breathing.

“What happened?” Pleasant demanded as she knelt beside her older brother, her voice frantic.

Niall shoved a hand through his hair. “We’d made a bet that he wouldn’t walk out on the pond, but he did…and then the ice cracked…he fell through…” His face crumpled although he was trying to be strong.

Cornell had been through many such episodes on board ship with men who had gone overboard in frigid temperatures. As he removed his great coat, he asked grimly, “How long was he under?”

Niall shook his head. “I don’t know…maybe a few…minutes?”

Cornell nodded briskly as he knelt on the other side of Connor’s lifeless body. He had to act quickly, for his lips were already taking on a blue tinge. He glanced at Pleasant. “Take Niall over by Fiona.”

She looked as if she wanted to argue, but in the end, she put her hand around Niall’s shoulders and led him away.

Cornell worked quickly. He removed Connor’s coat, upper clothes, and boots, and then wrapped his great coat around his body to try and bring back up his body temperature using his own heat. Then he began to pound on his back to try and force up any water that might have gathered in his lungs.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Connor finally opened his eyes on a gasp, and began to cough and sputter, color flooding back into his face. Cornell lowered his head. While that procedure hadn’t always worked in the past, he’d prayed that this time it would.

“Oh, thank God!” Pleasant came rushing over to them, Niall and Fiona were on her heels. They all wore similar expressions of relief. She brought Connor’s head to her breast through a flood of tears trailing down her face. “Don’t ever scare me like that again!”

“I’m sorry…Pea,” he rasped.

Cornell gently took her brother from her and lifted him into his arms. “Let’s get you home, shall we?”

Pleasant stopped him before he could go, laying a hand on his arm. “Thank you,” she whispered. And in that moment, from all the gratitude he’d ever received in his life, either from battle or a compliment from his well-made shoes, Cornell knew this was the greatest one of all.

He was about to hail another hackney when a black, lacquered barouche pulled up near the entrance to the park. The hood was up, but as the door opened and a man stepped to the ground, his identity was clear. The earl spied him and noted the boy in his arms with a frown. “Cornell? What’s happened?”

Cornell fought against his pride and strode toward his half-brother. “He fell in the lake. We need to get him home as quickly as possible.”

“Then let me offer you the use of my carriage.” Xavier spoke to his driver. “Mr. Reed is a close…friend. Take him wherever he instructs you.”

The servant nodded as a woman and two small children exited the vehicle. They were silent, but observant as they stared at Cornell. Since he seemed to be unable to speak, he was glad when Pleasant took it upon herself to do it for him.

“Thank you, Lord Haverton. It seems I am indebted to you once again.”

“It’s not necessary,” he returned, although he looked to Cornell. “However, if you might convince Mr. Reed to come by the townhouse for supper one evening—”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” Cornell stated firmly, as he climbed into the carriage with Connor.

He thought he heard Miss Hill tell Xavier that she would do her best to convince him to call, and then she ushered Niall and Fiona inside and they quickly set off.

Cornell could tell that Pleasant was curious about his behavior toward the earl, so he felt compelled to explain, “I have my reasons for distancing myself from the earl.”

With Fiona on her lap, and Niall sitting beside her, she returned, “It’s not my place to pry, and of course, you have the right to your own opinion toward Lord Haverton, but he did us a great service today, something that not many men of his ilk would do for the lower classes.”

Cornell fell silent, for he couldn’t very well argue against the truth.

Granted, Pleasant didn’t know the personal connection between him and Xavier, but neither had he felt so guilty for his curt behavior. He’d always imagined his half-brother to be cut from the same cloth as their father, had been biding his time to wait for his true nature to be revealed, but it hadn’t taken him long to deduce that Xavier was nothing like the previous earl. He actually had a kind heart, and it seemed his intentions toward Cornell were genuine. For the first time, it made him wonder if perhaps a relationship with the earl might actually be possible.

However, as they arrived at Pleasant’s lodgings, he pushed any further thought of Haverton aside for the moment. After they sent the driver back to Hyde Park, Cornell carried Connor inside. The moment Mrs. Hill saw her son in his arms, she gasped and struggled to her feet where she’d been sitting and doing some mending. Once Pleasant calmly explained what had occurred, her stepmother’s eyes shone with tears. “Oh, my poor boy!”

She led the way upstairs to the loft where five narrow beds were laid out in a neat row. Cornell had to duck in spite of the low ceiling as he laid Connor on his cot.

“Niall, come and help me with your brother,” Mrs. Hill instructed.

“Fiona and I will make some soup,” Pleasant offered, as she took her sister’s hand and led her back downstairs. Cornell did the same.

Now that the tragedy of the day had been averted, Cornell noticed that, as Pleasant went to fetch a pot for the stove, her hand was trembling. She was likely thinking of what could have happened.

He covered her hand with his, and she stiffened slightly. “Why don’t you sit down for a bit and let me and Fiona take care of this.” He winked at the little girl, who smiled back shyly.

Pleasant shook her head. “I couldn’t ask that—”

“I’m offering my services.” He gently took the pot from her, and she sighed wearily.

“Thank you, Mr. Reed.”

He merely nodded in return and turned his attention to Fiona.

Later, as he was preparing to leave, his coat and hat in place, Pleasant’s stepmother reached out and hugged him. “Thank you for everything, Mr. Reed. I don’t know how I will ever repay your kindness in saving my son.”