Excerpt of The Monstrous Duke And I by Dee St. Holm

She tipped her face to the clear sky and smiled. “Gorgeous.”

“That it is,” William agreed.

But when she glanced across the boat, he was looking at her and not their surroundings. Her cheeks flushed and she tried to compose herself while adjusting her bonnet. “Ah, William, perhaps we should discuss how this will all work.” She peeked at him. “People have taken note and—”

“Good morning, Your Grace,” a refined voice called.

Penny cursed inwardly as she recognized Stephana Skevington and her brother.

Their boat appeared in view—they must have circled the tiny island in the middle of the lake—and they were pointed so directly at Penny’s own boat that she wondered if they had planned this moment. Of course, Stephana’s golden dress perfectly matched the yellow flowers and gold chain decorating their boat. With her bonnet covered in ivory silk, she was the picture of an English lady.

And she knew it.

“Good morning, Lady Skevington, Lord Skevington,” William said. “I hope you enjoy your sail.”

He made to row away, but the other boat lurched dangerously close.

“Your Grace,” Stephana called out. “I thought perhaps we’d offer company.”

Penny gripped the seat as his oar struck the side of the other boat, and their own boat rocked wildly. The boats were so close now that Penny could make out a malicious glint in Stephana’s eyes.

Good grief, what on Earth was the other lady up to?

“Just so,” her brother Archie said. “Why not have a bit of sport and switch partners?”

“What?” Penny was taken aback. “In the middle of the lake?”

“Why of course, Miss Essex,” Stephana said. “Archie and I are both quite skilled, and I’m sure His Grace is very skilled as well—and would welcome some fresh conversation. Never fear, my brother is able to cross. You may stay put, Miss Essex. We will handle the rest.”

“That is unnecessary, Lady Skevington.” William stood and tried to fend off the other boat with an oar. “I must insist you—”

“It’s no bother, Your Grace,” she cried airily, and their craft careened forward.

“Stop!” Penny watched it closing with alarm. “You’re going too fast—”

The collision was as loud as a horse kicking the side of a carriage, and the wooden hull vibrated from the impact. Both crafts spun wildly out of control, rocking wildly on the water. William had been standing and he stumbled to the side. She tried to offset the weight, but it was too late.

Their boat tipped over, tossing them both into the lake.

She was plunged into the icy water—the day might be pleasant, but it was April and the water remained frigid. For a moment, she lost all sense of direction in the murky green below the surface. Then she righted herself, kicked off her slippers and surfaced with a gasp.

“William!” She cried, frantically searching for him in the water.

Reeds and oars and an overturned boat—but no William. 

Dear God. Her heart pounded with worry. He was a creature of flame. Cold or otherwise, would being submerged hurt him? Or worse? She couldn’t bear the thought. Forget pride, if the Skevingtons could assist, she’d beg. She paddled in a circle to face the other boat. “Please, can you see—”

Damn the pair to the plague, they’d already taken off.

“William!” She called out again and prepared to dive into the depths. “Hold on—”

“I’m—” He appeared next to her, coughing violently. “R-right here.”

The flames covering his body were sputtering like dying coals.

Blind panic flooded her.

“Hold on, William!” It was as she feared—the water was hurting him. Why, he could barely string two words together. Reaching out, she wrapped an arm around his chest and paddled hard with the other, kicking vigorously to propel them to the shore as quickly as possible.

“Pen—” He coughed again. “What are you—”

“I’ve got you,” she gasped. “Just a little further.”

The gentle waters were easy enough to navigate, even if Penny found herself awkwardly trying to hold William's much larger—and entirely muscular frame—while pushing them to shore. Reeds slapped the back of her head and tangled around her ankles. He tapped on her arm and asked her to release him, but she refused to let herself slow. Sure, he sounded fine—and he was clearly trying to gain purchase on the slippery bottom—but all she could see were those dying flames.

Damn men and their bloody pride.

His fire had almost entirely disappeared—there wasn’t an instant to lose.

Her feet found the muddy bottom, and she struggled to tug him further. “Almost there, William. We’re almost at the shore.”

“Pen,” he coughed. “You can stop. I’m quite—”

She planted both her feet in the mud and heaved with all her might. At the same time, he twisted in her grip.

“—well!” The word became a cry of warning.

Too late.

With a loud squelch of mud beneath their feet, they toppled slowly backward onto the shore. She tried to stop their fall by windmilling her arms, and he seemed to do the same by stepping quickly forward. To no avail. His arms came around her, her rear landed on the shore…

And his face landed directly on her bosom.

She froze. “Ah, William. Are you…”

“I’m fine.” His voice was muffled by the swell of her breasts, and suddenly his flames sprang to life with vigor.

Copyright © 2023 by Deana J Holmes writing as Dee St. Holm