When they'd moved permanently up to the Hunting Lodge, they'd learned the property's actual name was Deerfield park, and just more than two generations ago, the house was adorned with hunters' trophies. Deer heads hung over mantles in every room, furs hung as tapestries, and there'd been a large elk head in the dining room from a hunting excursion to the Netherlands. Until Robin's grandfather acquired the estate through a card game, the house's sole purpose was to house rowdy men escaping dull existences for a few days of fun. Despite its rustic beginnings, Deerfield had never really fit the house, and still, she and Robin called it the Lodge as they always had. But Henry and Roland wanted to rename the house, so she and Robin had let them, and they chose for it the whimsical title of Apple Blossom Manor for the orchards that spread across the other end of the estate. The staff at the house made a big ordeal of celebrating the renaming of the house, and Winston helped them to burn and paint a new sign to go at the edge of the property-and each time they passed it, the boys would beam proudly at their cleverness and handiwork.
So when Robin acquired the sea-side estate that had sat abandoned since the rebellion in the American colonies, it only seemed appropriate that the younger two children of the family should get to name the new house. At eight months old, Charlotte couldn't contribute much, but Oliver, at nearly two years old had enthusiastically declared it Fishy House. Henry and Roland both giggled at the name, and Charlotte clapped along-as she usually did when her brothers laughed at something-and that had been that.
Fishy House was theirs.
Of course, the proper and legal name of the estate was Stoney Bluff-likely a description of the property the house sat on-but that hardly mattered, and no one ever called it that.
They'd purchased the house in late February of the previous year, and by the time summer arrived, the house was ready for them. They'd spent that summer at the house, enjoying the sunny rooms and the earthy smell of the ivy that covered the house and kept it cool and the soft smell of lilac carried in from the fields just beyond the house.
But the best part of the house was its closeness to the sea, and it seemed as soon as the sun was up, they were wading and splashing in the water. Henry and Roland loved it, and by summer's end, they'd both become quite good swimmers. Oliver was more timid than his brothers, prefering to wade in the water from Robin's shoulders. Usually, Regina settled with Charlotte on one of the great rocks that came up from the water, connecting it to the sandy beach, and she'd giggle and laugh as the tide came up and sprayed them, and watched longingly as her brothers played.
On one particularly rainy day, Henry and Roland helped their younger siblings dip their hands in paint to decorate a new sign for the entrance of the property and spent the better part of an afternoon turning little handprints into fish. Then, in her beautiful handwriting, Mrs. Potter traced the name of the house-both its proper name and its whimsical nickname-for Winston to burn into the wood. When it was done, Henry painted over the burned letters in crisp white and Roland added a bright blue wave to the bottom while Oliver and Charlotte spread out on the cool tile floor of the kitchen, covered in paint as they napped.
The sign was the last thing they saw as they left the estate for the summer, and then it was the first thing they saw when they returned the following spring to open up the house and prepare it for summer that was to come. Typically, such work would be done by the staff-and since moving permanently to the lodge, there was more than enough staff to spare a couple of maids and footmen for a week or two. But they'd decided to do it themselves, deciding they could treat it as a little get-away for just the two of them-and though leaving the boys was a struggle, by the third day, Regina was glad they'd decided to do it this way.
The first day had been dedicated to setting up the nursery. Regina washed the bedding for Oliver and Charlotte's cribs and Robin had washed down the walls and unshuttered the windows. Ruby made them each a new set of sheets, so those were put out on the bed, and when their summer quilts were dry, they were set atop them. Oliver's set was a soft green calico and Charlotte's was made from the same fabric just in purple. Mrs. Potter had used some of the extra fabric to make bows for their stuffed bears-new, fuzzy brown ones that would be waiting to help quell them when they cried because they missed their beds at home.
The second day was spent on Henry and Roland's room, and she and Robin spent the better part of the day hauling trunks down from the attic, sorting them, and making a list of things the boys needed for the summer. It was a bit bittersweet as she realized the cream-colored breeches that Henry spent most of last summer in would no longer fit, and though they were too small for him, they were still a bit too big for Roland. The same went for socks and shoes, and she made a mental note to talk to Ruby about picking out some light fabrics for each of them before summer officially came around.
Robin finished their room while she went down to the cool, stone kitchen, scrounging together some sort of diner for the both of them. Without anyone around, there was no need to keep up appearances, so they ate their pan-fried fish and potatoes standing barefoot at the counter-and then, after cleaning up, they'd retired to bed, falling asleep almost instantly as a soft night breeze tangled in the sheer curtains and swept the soft scent of lilac and the sea into the room.
"Hey," Robin murmurs, whispering loudly in her ear as he perches himself on her shoulder. Grumbling, she turns her head into the pillow, her brow furrowing at the achiness of her arms and legs and scowling at the bright sun that's pouring into the room. "Regina, I know you're awake."
"Not because I want to be."
He laughs softly and presses his hand to her arm. "I think we should take a day off-or at least the morning."
"Then the best way to do that would be to let me sleep in."
"I disagree."
Her brow arches as her head turns on the pillow. "I wasn't looking for an opinion."
Robin laughs and in spite of herself a hint of a grin edges onto her lips. "Come on. Let's go."
"Go?" she asks, confused. "Robin, I'm- I'm not dressed. This nightdress isn't-"
"You don't need to be dressed."
She sits up a little and looks at him, her brows arched. "I know we live in the middle of nowhere, but-"
"It's not like I'm asking you to run outside naked with me," he cuts in-then a smirk forms. "Though that sounds a bit more enjoyable than-"
"Robin-"
"Let's go swimming."
She blinks, pulling herself up a bit more. "Swimming," she repeats. "You're insane. It's not even summer and-"
"It's going to be hot today," he tells her. "It already is, and what better way to cool yourself down and soothe those achy limbs than a dip in the ocean."
She wants to protest, but she's still groggy and a bit confused, and before she can come with some sort of smart retort, Robin is reaching for her hand and scrambling up from the bed. He pulls her up with him and she can't help but laugh as he leads her out of the bedroom and down the long hall to the main staircase-and then, he picks up the pace as they trot down the stairs and out the front door. She laughs out as the warm breeze sweeps up around her as his pace again picks up, making her run to keep up as they cross the lawn and the lilac field beyond it, weaving between the bushes in no pattern that makes any sense. Her nightdress sticks to her legs and falls down one of her shoulders as her hair blows around her face-and all she can do is run with him and laugh.
As they reach the beach, Robin again picks up the pace, dragging her along behind him as he runs toward the water. They slip in the sand, but still she holds his hand, letting him lead her into the ocean, and then, when he's about knee deep, he stops abruptly, turning to face her and lifting her into his arms before falling back into the water.
Momentarily, they sink down underwater and that's when he lets her go, letting her float up to the top. Breathing out, she stands up, finding the water is now just above her waist-and as she combs her fingers through her hair, she watches as Robin emerges from the water. He pulls off his shirt and tosses it to a nearby rock before grinning coyly at her then lunging toward her. She takes a few steps back, floating away from him and laughing when he misses her by mere inches. She succeeds in evading him a few more times, and when he finally catches her, he pulls her into a kiss-leaving her breathless as he drops her back into the water and again, making her laugh.
They spend the rest of the morning splashing and playing in the water, carefree and uninhibited. When the sun is high, she looks up at it, shivering despite the heat, and watching as Robin floats on his back, gently kicking his feet and propelling himself around in a little zig-zag pattern. She pulls herself up into one of the rocks and gathers her nightdress around her hips as she rings out its skirt. It occurs to her that she could just take it off, but she likes the cool, wet linen against her skin as the sun warms it, so she leaves it as it is.
Drawing in a long deep breath, she slides her hands back against the rock and closes her eyes, tipping up her chin as she suns herself-and for a moment, she wonders if she's ever felt this at peace.
Then, she hears Robin splashing toward her.
Grinning, she opens one eye, watching as he nears, shifting himself so that he can stand next to the rock. He grins a bit slyly as his eyes linger over her bare legs, and she finds herself biting down on her lip as his eyes trail up the rest of her body. He smiles as their eyes meet and he slips a hand underneath her arched legs, pulling her a little closer. His other hand rests on the small of her back as she reaches out, letting her hand coast up over his stubbly cheek, and she licks her lips as he leans in for a kiss.
Robin shifts himself a bit closer, tightening his hold on her and cradling her-and for a moment, she thinks he might climb up into the rock with her. But then, he chuckles softly against her lips as his hold on her once more tightens, and before she can even wonder, he lifts her off the rock, pulling her into the water again.
She laughs, linking her arms around his neck as their kiss breaks. Robin leans in again, his lips brushing teasingly over hers and his fingers trailing up her thighs, gathering her night dress up over her hips as they move upward-then in one fluid motion, he pulls the thin, wet garment off of her and tosses it up onto the rock. Her legs wrap around his hips as his lips come crashing down on hers-and though she won't admit it to him, he was right. This is a much better way to spend their morning.