A Countess of Convenience (10 page)

"I've already said we met at the theater."

"Fine. I'll say the same. Any other problems?"

Prudence decided to ask the question that had been bothering her most. “Where am I going to live after our marriage?"

"Do you like it here?"

"Yes, but your mother expects me to be with you in London."

His smile disappeared. “Did you tell her otherwise?"

"No. I didn't think it my place to do so."

He patted her hand that rested on his forearm. “Good girl. It'll be best if I tell her."

"But am I supposed to take over the responsibilities for this house? Your mother's been giving me instructions, but there's much too much to learn in such a short time."

Now he looked puzzled, as though he hadn't thought about it. How typical. “Ah—Mother runs the estate—not just the house. Has ever since my father's death."

His cavalier attitude toward Prudence's future grated on her already raw nerves. “Well, that makes it all the more important for you to get her permission before abandoning me here."

He pulled his forearm away from her hand and turned to face her. “I let her run things here, but it's still my estate. I can do whatever I wish with it."

She stared at him, suddenly very aware of his strong jaw, straight nose, and deeply set eyes blazing down at her. Had his polished good looks or his rank or the combination of the two caused his arrogant selfishness?

Trying to speak very distinctly, she said, “But since she runs your estate for you, it would be common courtesy for you to—"

He stood very straight and his chin jutted forward. “I do not need someone of your background lecturing me about courtesy."

So it had come back to her father's commonness. She shook her finger in his face. “Let me tell you something,
Lord
Malvern. My mother was the daughter of a duke and she taught me—"

He grabbed her shaking finger, encircled her waist with his other arm and yanked her body against his. “Don't ever shake your finger at me again. And why are you meek and mild with everyone else but quarrelsome with me?"

Prudence found it difficult to breathe even though Malvern wasn't holding her that tightly. “I—ah—you. No one else treats me as thoughtlessly as you do."

"Thoughtless? I've thought of little else but you since our night at the theatre."

Still holding her finger, he crushed her hand against his chest. “Stop fighting me, Pru. Give me the sweetness you give to others, and you'll get my utmost courtesy in return."

She didn't know what to say. But she knew it wasn't proper for them to be embracing like this just a few feet away from their nearest relatives. She told herself to push him away, but couldn't seem to move. “Malvern, don't."

His face came closer to hers. Then his lips skimmed across her cheek up to her ear. “Anthony. After tomorrow you can call me Anthony,” he whispered. When his lips moved toward hers, she turned her face into his kiss.

His lips and then his tongue quested and Prudence felt the same dizzying buzz she had the last time he had kissed her. She couldn't resist this man, even knowing his true nature; she couldn't stop herself from opening to him.

"Anthony. Anthony.” A voice called from inside the house. Malvern pulled his head back. “Damn,” he muttered softly. Then, more loudly, he called, “What is it, Mother?"

Fortunately his back was toward the house, so Prudence was mostly hidden from view.

"It's getting late, Anthony. And Prudence needs a good night's sleep. You two will have lots of time to be together after the ceremony."

Malvern squeezed Prudence's finger and softly promised, “Tomorrow.” Then he released her and turned to face his mother.

"I hope you can spare me a few moments before you go to bed, Mother. There's a matter I must discuss with you."

"I have something I want to discuss with you too. Let's get our guests settled and then we can meet in my sitting room."

He gave Prudence a brief nod and somehow she knew he meant to discuss her living arrangements with his mother. A smile welled inside her. Perhaps sweetness
was
the best way to deal with him.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Leaving most of their male guests liberally supplied with brandy and cigars, Malvern made his way up to his mother's sitting room. She eventually joined him, puffing as if out of breath and complaining about Lady Agatha's numerous requests before she had settled down for the night.

"Now what do you want to talk about, Anthony?"

He made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “Ladies first."

"I just want you to know I've had the old hunting lodge cleaned and stocked with enough supplies for a week. I thought it just the place for you and Prudence to get acquainted."

Malvern stared at his mother in surprise. “The only thing to do at the hunting lodge is hunt. How on earth will Prudence and I amuse ourselves for a week?"

She tsked at him. “If you have to ask that question, you obviously haven't learned much from your
actress
friends. You and Prudence need to be alone to build matrimonial bonds."

He started to argue with her for making such an arrangement without consulting him, but then thought better of it. It would be easier to get his relationship with his new wife off to a proper start without being surrounded by the prying eyes and ears of relatives. A vision of Prudence, all wide-eyed and breathless as she'd looked on the terrace, flashed before his eyes. Yes, privacy after the wedding would be an advantage.

"Thank you for thinking of it. But there's another matter I need to discuss with you."

She sat on the edge on a sofa and looked up at him expectantly.

"I'm trying to decide where Prudence will live. I thought I would leave her here if the two of you can work together about running the house."

Her satisfied little smile over his agreement to use the lodge disappeared. “Do you want me to give over to her? I can stay full-time in London, if you prefer."

"Of course not. This has always been your home. I wouldn't dream of changing that. If you don't want Prudence here, I can send her up to the estate in Yorkshire."

Her brow wrinkled. “But you never go there. Why would you think to send her? Anyway, she will be with you in London while Parliament is in session and can content herself with redoing that stuffy bachelor's house of yours. We should all be able to spend the off-season here without stepping on each other's toes."

"I'm not planning on having her in London."

"What?” Her mouth puckered as though she'd just tasted bitter medicine. “A wife should live with her husband."

As he always strove to do in the face of his mother's disapproval, Malvern affected a nonchalant air. “It will be more convenient for me if she resides in the country. I've told her of my plans, and she has agreed. After all, we are not particularly anxious to be in each other's company."

She glared at him with undisguised anger. “Nor will you ever be, if you live apart. Anthony, I had hoped you were finally ready to settle down."

"I am, Mother. I'm going to marry and start a family. But I do not intend to totally disrupt my life."

"You mean you don't intend to give up your disreputable lifestyle. You can't be a proper husband and father and still play the rake. How can you even consider—"

He held his hand up to halt her. “It's my life, and I intend to live it as I please. I avoided scandal as long as I avoided
nice
females. I will not make that mistake again."

"Mistake?” The countess's voice became uncharacteristically shrill. “It was not a mistake. You were entrapped by one of those disreputable acquaintances you insist on associating with. Can't you see that people like Weathersby will always lead you astray?"

Malvern lost a bit of his studied calm and raised his voice. “No one leads me anywhere, and I intend to keep it that way."

She drew herself up with the hauteur that only a life-long aristocrat could manage. “Evidently I've been worried about the worth of the wrong partner in this marriage. By all means leave Prudence at Malvern Manor. She and I get along famously."

During the first half of her wedding day, Prudence felt as if she were a player in an entertainment the countess had arranged for her guests. After wearing black for so long, the silver-gray wedding dress seemed like a costume and the congregation and special guests who packed the small village church an audience.

Even at the afternoon “breakfast” for some forty
intimates
that followed the ceremony, she sat beside Lord Malvern, smiling and nodding at toasts as though in a dream. It wasn't until he helped her into the basket phaeton that would carry them to the lodge that Prudence finally began to feel married.

As he snapped the reins and the carriage bounced away from the front entrance of Malvern Manor, a fearful shyness swept over her. For the first time since their marriage bargain had been struck, she was truly alone with him. No longer would he be required to treat her with the courtesies polite society demanded of a gentleman. He could freely show any ill will he bore her for forcing him into marriage.

The phaeton turned off the main lane onto one that was little more than a path through woodlands, and Malvern slowed the horse to a walk to lessen the bouncing caused by ruts and fallen limbs. “Obviously Mother forgot to have this lane cleared. I hope she did a better job of preparing the lodge."

"How much further is it?” Prudence asked.

"On horseback it's a half-hour's ride, but today will take longer."

"Will we still be on the Malvern estate?"

"Yes, but it's away from the farmland. We use the lodge mainly for overnight stays while deer hunting."

"It sounds terribly isolated."

He glanced at her and smiled. “I thought you liked the country."

"I do. I'm just surprised that such isolation still exists in this part of England."

"We've kept it this way on purpose—a great hideaway just a half-day's ride from London."

"But I thought you liked living in the city."

"I do. But invitations to hunt on our estate are highly sought after. If I'm to take my parliamentary duties more seriously, as my mother wishes, little things like that can be an advantage."

She was surprised he intended to accede to his mother's wishes. “Do you attend sessions of Parliament?"

"Not all of them. I attend when issues I'm interested in are being debated."

"How did you and Neil become friends?"

"Ah—he and I share certain interests."

She knew very little about her brother's life. Perhaps this would be an opportunity to better understand him. “Such as?"

Malvern shifted to a more comfortable position. His arm lightly brushed against hers. “Well—we both are interested in horse racing and other games of chance."

"You mean he gambles?"

"He does like activities with an element of risk. Actually, he has quite an eye for the horses. I once saw him pick five winners in a row. Of course, no one can do that all the time."

Prudence couldn't keep a censoring tone from her voice. “He told us he intended to make his fortune by investing his inheritance."

Malvern glanced at her and shrugged. Prudence fastened her attention on the strings of her reticule. Her naivete about her brother only served to remind her of her general lack of knowledge about what actually went on in this world. Especially between men and women.

A bird, apparently startled by their passage, flew up from a nearby branch with a harsh “tsee-tsee."

"Oh,” Prudence exclaimed, “a blue tit."

Malvern jerked his head toward her. “What?"

"That was a blue tit. You can always tell them from the other members of the tit family because of their blue tail feathers."

"Oh,” he said and chuckled.

"What was funny about that?” she asked.

He turned back to watch the lane, but she could still see the corner of his mouth turned up. “Ah—I just didn't know you were interested in bird watching."

"When I lived in Huffington, Mr. Potter taught me the names of many of the birds. He was a real bird-watcher. But I liked to walk with him when he came to the woods near our cottage."

Now he looked at her with a very serious face. “Mr. Potter?"

"The village apothecary. I got to know him because of my mother's medical needs."

Malvern now stared at her levelly. “How old was he?"

She thought that a strange question, but answered it nevertheless. “I don't know. His hair was white and he had a number of grandchildren."

"Oh.” He turned his attention back to the lane.

Soon Prudence glimpsed the lodge through the trees. The log and dab building stood in a small clearing. The thatched roof arched over two attic windows like surprised eyebrows. The front door opened and a gray haired, stooped-shouldered man emerged to take charge of the horse.

"Hello, Clarence, I trust everything has been prepared for our arrival."

The man tipped his head. “Yes, my lord. Yer lady mother has been sending servants over all week. Ye won't know the place."

With a laugh, Lord Malvern hopped down, handed Clarence the reins, and moved around to help Prudence from the carriage. Taking hold of her hand, he paused and turned to the old man. “Clarence, this is the new Countess of Malvern."

The man nodded. “Welcome to Wildwood Lodge, my lady."

Prudence smiled at him, still finding her new form of address strange. “Thank you, and that is certainly an appropriate name for this place."

As Lord Malvern led her through the open doorway to a large central room, a small woman bustled toward them. She bobbed up and down in a half-dozen quick curtsies as the earl introduced Prudence to Annie, Clarence's wife. Then, with a sweeping gesture, he said, “Good heavens, Annie. What have you done to the old place?"

Looking around the room, Prudence saw upholstered chairs and sofas, several silver urns filled with bouquets of flowers, and hanging on one wall, a beautiful tapestry depicting a fully antlered deer. A small round table, flanked by two ornately carved chairs, stood near the stone fireplace.