There had always been something sacred about this part of the forest.
Long before the rumors, long before the Season had begun to suffocate her with expectation, Penelope had discovered the quiet inlet entirely by accident. She had been scarcely sixteen then, wandering farther than she was permitted while attempting to avoid an afternoon of insufferable piano practice and polite visitors.
The path had twisted between towering oaks and leaning willows until the sounds of the estate vanished behind her. At its end lay the small lake—clear as polished glass and sheltered by thick woodland that seemed determined to keep the rest of the world away.
No carriages could reach it, and no curious servants ventured this deep. It was perfect.
Over the years, the lake had become her sanctuary. Whenever the endless duties of society pressed too tightly around her ribs—dinners, etiquette lessons, the endless expectation that she would smile sweetly and speak little—Penelope would slip away here.
Sometimes she came to read, and sometimes she came to shout. And on rare afternoons such as this, when frustration burned too fiercely beneath her skin, she would wade into the lake itself and let the cold water steal the tension from her bones.
No one had ever found her here. Which was why the sound in the woods had unsettled her so profoundly.
"S-Show yourself," she warned.
Her heart thumped fiercely as the seconds stretched into minutes. Penelope's gaze darted from left to right, searching the trees.
The longer the silence continued, the more suspicious she became. The melodious chirping of the afternoon birds did little to reassure her.
She was alone.
She was, quite possibly, talking to herself.
A sigh escaped her lips.
Relief flooded her at once, bringing color back to her face. If she was alone, then at least she couldn't risk someone finding her here.
A lady of her calibre would become the laughingstock of the ton before the maids at the estate even had time to finish whispering about it.
And after everything that had already been said about her, the last thing she needed was another scandal.
She was stuck.
Breathe, Pen, she told herself. Just breathe. There's no one here. No one's going to find you—
CRACK!
Her eyes snapped toward the direction of the noise.
Penelope stared.
Beside a tree sat a small, white, fluffy rabbit, a stolen vegetable clutched between its paws.
For a moment, neither human nor animal moved.
They simply stared at one another.
The rabbit looked almost as startled as she felt.
It was only when the sudden flapping of wings shattered the silence that their strange little standoff came to an end.
The rabbit bolted.
Penelope released a breath and placed a hand over her chest, feeling the rapid pounding of her heartbeat.
Well, that was close…
She took a deep breath.
Clearly, she was becoming paranoid.
Penelope listened to the peaceful lapping of the water against the shore, allowing the familiar sound to calm her nerves before pushing herself deeper into the lake.
She sank until the water reached just below her chin.
Finally, peace.
Or so she thought.
"I find it hard to believe a woman with such vigor appears rather shaken by a mere rabbit," a deep monotone voice echoed calmly across the lake.
She went rigid.
She slowly turned her head.
Leaning casually against a rock at the side of the lake was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.
"…and a human, apparently," he added, clearly amused by the expression that had just overtaken her face.
The blood drained from Penelope's face.
At once, she froze like a statue, deprived of air, deprived of sense, and deprived of words.
The moment reality crushed her, it did like a ball of lava against a land, colliding into her, sending an uncontrollable rush of heat through her entire body.
"AHH!!!"
Penelope shrieked back instantly, creating a dramatic length of distance, and wrapped her arms around herself, as though it could shield the fact that she was stark naked with a man beneath the lake.
Her pulse skyrocketed, and her mind suddenly went blank. Penelope a few minutes ago would've had something to say. A clear unruly retort despite her situation.
But now her mind was stunned into silence—so overwhelmed with words that only a shriek remained as her instinctive response.
Irritated by the noise, the stranger's hands flew to his ears. "Can you… lower your voi—"
"…AHH!!!"
"…."
He grunted in defeat, understanding this wouldn't end anytime soon. Her reaction was clearly foretold, but how would he have known she screamed so loud?!
For the first thirty seconds, Penelope screamed out her lungs until she could barely breathe. She was flushed with equal parts anger and embarrassment.
Someone was here! Right inside… naked under… a lake! With her! And not just anyone, but a man!
If anger were self-destructive, Penelope would've combusted minutes ago. The idea that she was in a lake with a man was more scandalous than the rumor of her being compromised.
What would society say this time? What new gossip would the ton manufacture now?
This was precisely the sort of incident that could turn every whisper about her into supposed fact. Whatever remained of her chances of securing a suitable gentleman this Season would be ruined.
Finally, breathless, her screams faded into sharp, furious gasps.
The stranger slowly lowered his hands from his ears. "Are you finished?" he asked flatly.
Penelope glared at him, eyes blazing despite the humiliation threatening to devour her whole. "How dare you!" She burst out. "Turn around at once!"
He blinked once.
Slowly, and then leaned further against the rock. "No."
For a moment, Penelope could only stare at him in disbelief. "No?" she repeated, her voice rising dangerously.
"No," he said again, maddeningly calm. "You are the one trespassing."
Her jaw dropped. "Tres—?" She sputtered, scandalized. "This is my lake!"
He lifted one brow at her words, clearly amused. "Your lake?"
"Yes!" She could hardly believe she was having this conversation.
"How fascinating," he said dryly. "And here I believed nature belonged to no one,"
Penelope's cheeks burned so fiercely she feared the water itself might begin to boil. "You insolent—!" She stopped abruptly, clutching the water higher around her shoulders. "Have you no decency?"
"On the contrary," he replied. "I am demonstrating remarkable restraint."
"Restraint?!"
"Yes," His gaze swept lazily toward the treeline behind her. "Had you arrived with a touch more awareness—and perhaps a touch less fury—you might have noticed that someone had already claimed this corner of the lake,"
Penelope frowned, obviously bitter at his accusation. How dare he insult her!
He tilted his chin toward the bank. "Your gown is not the only one abandoned there." he revealed, and her eyes widened despite herself. W-What?
Penelope blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then her gaze flickered toward the shoreline where her discarded clothes lay in a heap of pale fabric.
Slowly, rather horribly, she noticed something she had indeed missed; another set of garments. Dark ones. Very much not hers not hers, and heat flooded her face all over again.
"I—"
"You did not see me," he finished mildly. "Nor did you appear interested in discovering whether the lake was already occupied,"
She stared at him, looking mortified. O-Oh gods! "And you said nothing?!" she demanded.
"I attempted to," he replied and then shrugged. "But you were rather busy muttering about irritating suitors and murderous intentions,"
Her stomach dropped at once. Oh heavens. He had heard that. All of it.
His gaze swept across the lake again with lazy indifference before returning to her furious face. "Though I admit, I found that truly amusing,"
Her mouth opened, closed, and opened again. "You… you—"
He tilted his head, studying her as though she were an unusual species of bird. "You are very loud," He observed.
Her face was red in rage. "I will scream again!"
"I do not doubt it."
"Then turn around!"
"Why?"
"Because I am naked, you insufferable brute!"
Silence fell.
For the first time, something flickered across his expression, something dangerously close to amusement for a man who appeared less expressionable.
"I had noticed," he simply said, unaffected by the acidity of her tone. And in fact, clearly amused instead.
Penelope inhaled sharply. Her dignity, what little remained of it, was finally shattered. The society… The ton… her duty…
"You mannerless coward!" She snapped out her frustration, finally releasing the outburst that seemed to have cracked the final piece of decorum within her.
That seemed to surprise him as he frowned. "Coward?"
"Yes!"
"How precisely am I a coward?"
"Because," she sputtered furiously, "any gentleman would have turned away immediately!" What manner of man was he?! Penelope couldn't take it anymore. Someone who wasn't at least considered that his—as much as hers—image would be soiled.
He seemed to consider her response with a thoughtful hum, and then, with deliberate slowness, straightened from the rock, pushing his body fully into the lake.
A faint smile touched his lips. "Would he?"
"Yes!"
He regarded her for another moment, seemingly amused by her outrage. Then, with maddening calm, "Well then," he said. "I never claimed to be a gentleman."