Compromising Prudence (10 page)

“There’s something I need to tell you.” His face had turned serious.

“He called you cousin.”

“I meant to tell you, but each time I tried, I became sidetracked.”

“The ducal family your mother was born to…”

“…the surname is Petworth. I should have told you before.”

“Yes, you should have,” she agreed. “You should have mentioned your relations immediately when I unburdened my tale of woe.”

He looked miserable.

“You can’t imagine I would hate you for your relations.” She took his hand in hers. “I promise not to hold Petworth against you if you don’t resent me for my father’s actions.”

“I never would.”

“You were my hero today, vanquishing the villain.”

He brightened. “I
was
good.”

“You were. But you must resolve to be honest with me.”

“In all things,” he promised.

In spite of the excitement, or perhaps because of her exhaustion, the rhythm of the carriage made her eyes grow heavy. Resting her head against her husband’s shoulder felt the most natural thing in the world. She shivered. Rubbing her hands together did little to warm them. Charles noticed and removed her gloves. He placed both her hands between his and warmth seeped back into them.

“You’ll want to dress for dinner,” he said against her hair. “I’m afraid Mrs. Forbes has gone wild with delight. She hasn’t had much to do until you arrived. The prospect of a wedding meal, even just for two, has sent her over the moon.”

“Sounds lovely,” she murmured.

Charles settled an arm around his wife’s shoulders. This moment was so much like the night he had brought her home and yet completely different. The rush he’d felt as she nuzzled him in her sleep was not just desire but an odd tenderness.

How had he come to this so easily? Their bargain to live separate lives was far less appealing than it had been two days before. How long had it been since he had enjoyed anyone’s company so?

Perhaps he had been too much alone, spent too much time tramping the countryside in pursuit of nests and flocks. He hadn’t felt lonely at the time.

And now…

And now he was looking forward to spending the evening in her company. He woke his sleeping wife and handed her down from the carriage.

“Do I need to carry you upstairs again?”

She yawned and shook her head, but held his hand up the stairs. At the door to her room, he stopped and turned her to face him. She laid her head against his chest, content to stand there in his embrace. He cupped her face, tilting her chin up. Her eyes were still dreamy and her cheek was flushed where it had rested on his shoulder.

He kissed her very softly. With a sigh, her lips parted and she breathed a kiss back to him. He wound both arms around her, fitting her to him. She didn’t resist but leaned into the kiss a little harder.

Sweet, but passionate. Impulsive, yet sensible. What a miracle of a woman he had found! She slipped a hand inside his coat and he broke the kiss. If he didn’t, they would never make it downstairs for their wedding breakfast and Mrs. Forbes would make his life hell.

Neither of them spoke, but he took both her hands in his, kissing first one palm and then the other. She reached, pulling him down for one last brush of lips, before she turned and went into her room.

He turned at a discreet cough. Lizzy’s face betrayed nothing, but he realized with an embarrassed rush that he had lost track of time. He had no idea how long he had been standing there outside Pru’s door with a fatuous smile on his face.

Chapter Eight

M
RS
. F
ORBES
H
AD
O
UTDONE
herself. The meal was far too lavish for only two, but Prudence was famished after the walking she had done and tucked in like a stable hand. Charles must have also been hungry for he was rather quiet. After the easy intimacy of the afternoon, this felt awkward.

“I have decided to begin packing,” he said finally. “It’s time to return to my home —
our
home. We can take the post chaise as far as Maidstone and then tomorrow hire a coach on to the ancestral pile.” He put down his glass. “If that is acceptable?”

He was asking her?

“That would be fine. I haven’t much to pack. Just the few things I bought.”

His mouth twitched with humour. “A few things? I’ll need an army of footmen to load the chaise.”

“A lady requires a great deal more clothing than a gentleman.”

“Of course.”

“Every single item is necessary!”

“I’m sure it is.”

His smugness infuriated her, especially when she remembered the silky gown and robe she had purchased. Those could hardly be considered necessary, but were the sort of thing a bride should have for her wedding night. She turned her attention back to the soup.

“Are you sure you don’t want to see your family one last time?”

Pru had been dreading this moment. She set down her spoon. “Do you think I should?” She said it calmly, but her heart thumped.

He shrugged and took a taste of the soup. “Your choice.”

“I’ll think on it tonight.”

“I have a great deal to do,” he said. “I’ll be in my study.”

“Of course.”

Had she thought to have a proper wedding night? What a ninny she was with her head in the clouds. This was a convenience, an arrangement. The day had been pleasant, but meant nothing. She had met him at
Dorothea Tuppence’s
house for heaven’s sake! Perhaps he went around kissing any willing maiden he found.

After dinner, she left her husband to his port and books and went up to her room to pack. In spite of his teasing, her new wardrobe wasn’t extensive. She was glad she had been sentimental enough to pack her mother’s silver mirror and comb, but wished she had thought to pack the miniature of her mother and her sisters.

This was the edge of insanity. She had married a stranger and was about to leave town with him. The easy warmth was a surprise, but was there enough to build a marriage on? Did Charles even want that or was he now regretting their hasty marriage?

Prudence hadn’t held up her part of the bargain. She had invaded his sanctuary, intruded into his life, even planned to drag him off on a walking tour of Scotland. Why should he scruple to follow the bargain if she didn’t?

She missed her house. She missed her sisters. The reality that she might never see them again crashed over her in a cold wave and the first tear rolled down her cheek. This was her wedding night and she sat here sorting clothes while her husband hunched over his books with his port.

She drew out the rose negligee, the perfect thing for a wedding night. It was all so unfair. She was ruined without being debauched and now wedded but not bedded.

More tears followed and soon she was weeping in earnest. Her father’s last words were ringing in her ears.

“You foolish, impulsive girl. No good will come of you. Mark my words!”

“Excuse me, sir.” Lizzy stood in the doorway, wringing her hands. “It ain’t my place and Mrs. Forbes did say I should leave it be, but I thought you should know.”

“Know what, Lizzy?”

“Your missus is crying, sir. In her room. I don’t want to meddle, but…”

“Thank you for telling me, Lizzy.”

She dropped a hurried curtsey and fled. With a defeated sigh, he placed both palms on the table and stood. He’d a stiff neck from sitting too long. He frowned at the clock on the mantel. He’d lost track of time again, not that taxonomy was so interesting, but classification required concentration.

He rapped the door with his knuckles. “Pru?”

“Go away, please.” Her voice was muffled and thick.

He let himself in. Still in her evening dress, she was stretched across her bed, face down, arms flung overhead, sniffling into her pillow. A scrap of rosy silk was clutched in her hand. “What’s the matter, darling?” He sat on the edge of the bed.

She started and wiped at her face. “Can’t a girl have a weep in private?”

“Not on her wedding night.” That was evidently the wrong thing to say. She heaved a great sob and tried to move away but he pulled her into his arms. “Please tell me what is wrong. I thought we had a lovely day. Is being married to me so horrible? Please don’t cry. Please, please don’t cry.” He stroked her hair. “My poor Pru.”

She wound her arms around his neck. “Don’t you like me even a little bit?” She sniffled wetly against his collar. “I thought perhaps you liked me.”

“Like you? Why would you ask such a thing?” He meant to comfort her at first, fluttering soft kisses across her eyelids and trailing them down her forehead. “I like you very much. More so than I expected.” His voice was hoarse.

She turned her mouth to his. He explored her lips tentatively at first. She sighed against his mouth and his control slipped. His arms held her tighter — or was she pressing herself against him?

Her hands tangled in his hair. “I thought…our wedding night…you didn’t even want to touch me.” She hiccupped and pulled back. “I know this isn’t a proper marriage but I don’t want to spend my life so chastely.”

It was his turn to stammer. “B-but I was being noble.”

“Oh please don’t be noble!”

“I’m sorry,” he said against her mouth. “I promised myself I would not molest you, that we should spend time getting to know one another and…”

“Do shut up,” Pru said and kissed him hard.

She was his wife, he reminded himself, and she was in his arms and so
willing
. He turned to press her back into the bed and she fell back, pulling him with her eagerly.

Very, very
willing
!

Pru felt exactly right to be drawn against his chest that way, drowsy and replete. His hand stroked her hair idly.

“I had no idea it could be like that,” Pru said.

“Neither did I.”

She rose on an elbow to look at him. “Of course you did. You’re the one with all the experience.”

“What do you think I am? Not all that much experience. I mean that I’m not really such a…It isn’t as if I make a habit… that I go around…”

“No?” She raised an eyebrow. “You are blushing quite a bit for a man I met in a brothel.”

“Yes, well, it isn’t as if I never…” Charles abruptly pulled her into his arms. “I meant that this was different. Better.” He kissed her with such ferocity that although moments before she was drifting asleep, now she was fully awake with her blood pounding through her veins.

Much, much later, they finally slept.

In the early part of the morning, she was dimly aware of Charles slipping from the bed. He stopped long enough to drop a kiss on her shoulder and tuck the covers back around her. She wanted to protest the removal of his solid warmth, but speaking was far too much effort and she once again succumbed to the lure of sleep.