Vexed by a Viscount (11 page)

She had thought they were more than friends, in fact. Not something she would ever admit aloud, but it was the truth.

Not a day went by that she didn’t think of him, or go over their last conversation again and again. Was it possible to be right and wrong at the same time? Her heart ached not to see him anymore, but what could she do? His argument had resonated with her over the past few days, but what difference did it make for them? He was still totally and completely beyond her reach.

As was her own happiness.

“Head out of the clouds, my dear. This wedding breakfast menu will not plan itself.”

Prudence nodded as her mother shoved the handwritten list of meal options in front of her. Names of various meat dishes, fishes, soups, puddings, and desserts swam before her, none of them appealing in the least.

Mama pursed her lips, once again displeased with Prudence’s lack of interest. “In mere days, you shall be the mistress of your own home, and choosing a menu is a very important part of that role. If you wish to please your husband, you must take care in creating the perfect menu.”

It was a recurring theme over the past week.
If you wish to please your husband, you’ll be diligent in choosing a proper wardrobe. If you wish to please your husband, you’ll learn the names and spouses of all of his friends and acquaintances. If you wish to please your husband, you’ll learn his interests and make them your own. If you wish to please your husband, you’ll . . .
The list went on and on, reminding her with each new item that her only purpose in life from now on was to make her husband happy.

But the problem was, her betrothed was utterly unconcerned with what might please
her
. Unbidden, Ash’s words came back to her again:
I want you to be happy
. Yes, he had argued with her. Yes, he had tempted her with things she could never have. But he was the only person in her life that had ever shown a care for her happiness.

Even she hadn’t been so concerned.

But looking into the future now, filled as it was with endless tasks designed to make a man she didn’t even like happy, she suddenly was concerned. Why should she go through with something that would make her so utterly miserable only to please others?

What would happen if she called off the wedding? Would the squire sue for her dowry? If so, then wouldn’t they both get what they ultimately wanted? Money for him, and freedom for her? The obvious problem was being unable to marry in the future without the dowry, and facing spinsterhood, but was that really worse than marriage to Jeffries?

She shuddered. No, it was not.

The other consequence would be upsetting her parents. She’d spent a lifetime avoiding just such a fate, but would the world really end if they were upset with her? Angry, even? Was suffering their censure worse than giving herself to the squire?

Heavens, no, it most certainly was not.

She drew a sharp breath, the very thought a revelation. Her hand went to her pounding heart, excitement and fear and dread and hope all careening about inside of her. Was she really considering calling things off? Did she have it in her to do such a thing?

Only two weeks ago, the answer would have been a resounding no. But now? She felt . . . different. Ready to reach for things that had for so long seemed out of reach. Her list had helped her learn to be brave, but it was Ashby who had given her courage, who had made her imagine she might deserve more than the life she was leading. If only he could be here now to bear witness to what she was about to do.

Her life was about to change.

Closing her eyes, she drew a long, deep breath, thinking of Ash’s encouraging smile, drawing strength from his confidence in her. When she exhaled, her decision was made. Opening her eyes, she lifted the sheet of paper bearing the menu choices in both hands, looked directly at her mother, and tore the sheet in half.

In the end, it hadn’t been pretty. Mama had wailed, Papa had shouted and threatened, and the squire had angrily laid claim to her dowry. But remarkably, the world did not end. It was a messy, emotional business, ending a betrothal. Certainly not for the faint of heart.

But had it been worth it?
Absolutely
.

She smiled now, sitting on the black iron bench beneath the old oak tree at dusk three days later, toasting herself with a third glass of sherry at a time when she was supposed to have been preparing for what would have been her last night in her parents’ home. Her mother had sequestered herself inside these last few days, declaring herself far too overwrought to leave her chambers. For that, Prudence truly was sorry, just as she hated the disappointment and anger that lingered in her father’s eyes.

She’d never wanted to let them down so thoroughly, but she hoped in time they would understand why she did what she did, and accept that it had not been done simply to thwart them.

Even though it was a difficult time for them all, she knew she had done the right thing. She only wished that the viscount could know what she had done. In the midst of all the upset, she would have liked to have someone with whom to celebrate her decision. Smiling, she raised her glass toward the leafy branches and said, “To Ash.”

“To
me
?”

Prudence gave a startled little gasp, nearly dropping the glass in her haste to turn around. He stood only ten or so paces behind her, looking as handsome as she could ever remember seeing him. His hair was lightly tousled, his cravat loosely tied, and his stylish dark-green jacket brought out the warm mossy tones in his eyes.

Best of all, though, was his smile. She felt as though it was reserved just for her. It was a silly thing to think, given that they were the only two people in sight, and who else would it possibly be for, but it was the thought she had nonetheless.

“Handsome Lord Ashby, whatever are you doing here?” The words tripped off her tongue with a bubbly lightness. She was so very, very happy to see him. Especially in that jacket.

He grinned even more broadly, and came to sit at her side. “You’ve started number four on the list without me,” he said, giving the stem of the crystal glass a little tap.

“Do you think I’m foxed, my Ash? I mean, my lord?” There was indeed a rather warm haze to her thoughts, like the way candlelight looked through a frosted windowpane. It was quite, quite nice.

He chuckled, shaking his head lightly. “I think I liked your first try better. And yes, I think you are foxed. Or at the very least, a trifle disguised.”

“Oh. Well, I think I am a trifle foxed, too. I didn’t realize how much until you got here.”

She drank in the sight of him, realizing all at once just how much she had missed his face this week. She hadn’t known when she would ever see him again. It could have been years—or never—for all she knew. She wanted to reach out, to trace that strong, handsome jaw of his, to feel those perfectly formed lips beneath her fingertips. Or better yet, beneath
her
lips.

Oh! But she shouldn’t be thinking like that. She may be free—thanks in large part to him—but he was not. Such a pity.

“What’s a pity?”

She blinked. Had she said that out loud? “Can’t really say,” she said vaguely, with what she was sure was a very sophisticated shrug. “Did you hear the news?”

“That you are foxed? I’m seeing it for myself. But other than that, I only just arrived an hour ago. I changed and came here on the off chance I might see you. Imagine my surprise to hear you speak my name.”

“It is a very nice name.”

He laughed again, clearly enjoying himself—and her. “Why, thank you. But why did you speak it? And what is your news?”

Her heart fluttered at the prospect of telling him. No one else had been happy for her, but he would be. “You made me brave,” she said. “So I called off the wedding.”

His mouth quite literally dropped open. One often heard that expression, but Prudence couldn’t remember ever actually seeing it happen. He did have such nice teeth, though. She had always liked them.

“You called off your wedding?” he repeated, not quite sounding as though he believed her.

She nodded twice and lifted her glass. “I did. Because you thought I deserved more. I realized I agreed.”

He shook his head, looking every bit as shocked by the news as she had hoped he would be. Then, quite unexpectedly, he started to laugh. The sound was low and deep in his chest, but his amusement was unmistakable. “What a coincidence,” he said, slipping the drink from her hand and setting it on the ground. He stood and held out his hand.

“What are you doing?” she asked, a little bewildered. Or was that a
trifle
bewildered? “And what is a coincidence?”

Not waiting for her, he clasped her hand in his and gently brought her to her feet. She held onto him until she found her balance . . . well, perhaps for a
trifle
bit longer than that.

“Good?” he asked, and when she nodded, he smiled. “Excellent. I thought perhaps we should add another item to your list, since I managed to miss out on getting drunk with you.”

“You haven’t missed out,” she said, waving airily toward the half-empty sherry bottle on the ground. “Help yourself. We can share my glass.”

“I think,” he said, not acknowledging her kind offer to partake in her sherry, “that you need to be well and truly kissed. Preferably by someone who is in love with you, and someone whom you could maybe love in return.”

Her stomach dropped clear to her toes, taking some of her fuzziness with it. “Kissed?” she squeaked, unable to believe her ears. “Love?” What, exactly, was he saying? Try as she might, she couldn’t make sense of his words.

“Indeed. And I know just the man to help you cross it off your list.” The warmth in his eyes as he gazed down at her was enough to take her breath away.

“But . . . but . . . you’re betrothed!”

“Didn’t I mention? I just returned from a nice visit with Lady Tabitha. I decided someone should probably ask her if she
wanted
to marry me. And do you know what she said?”

Prudence shook her head, all the while wondering if this was some sort of dream. But his hand felt very real in hers, and he smelled exactly as he should.

“
No
. She said no. Quite emphatically, in fact. And when I asked if she would like to dissolve the contract, she burst into tears, so relieved that she wouldn’t have to marry some old man she didn’t even know.”

“
Old man
?” Prudence gave a horrified laugh. “Did she really call you that?”

“She did. And from her sixteen-year-old point of view, I can see how she would think that.”

Taking a deep, mind-clearing breath, Prudence met his gaze. “So, are you saying you are
un
betrothed?”

His hands settled about her waist as he nodded. “If that is a word, then yes, I am saying it.” He tugged her a little closer, sending a frisson of delight straight down her spine. “You say I made you brave, but it was you who made
me
brave. I never would have challenged the arrangement had I not had a reason to do so.

“You, my dear, are that reason. You’re my list. You’re the only one I can imagine my life with, and I was quite prepared to do whatever it took to stop the wedding and convince you to be with me instead. How very fortuitous to discover you’ve taken care of the first part all on your own.”

The pride shining in his eyes made her feel the very best sort of giddiness. His gaze softened, and he tightened his hold on her. “And I am also saying, sweet Prudence, that I managed to fall headlong in love with you somewhere along the way. The naked swimming may have helped,” he added with an incorrigible wink.

Her heart pounded madly in her chest, clearing her mind a fraction more with each beat. He was in love with her? How could she possibly be so lucky? “What a coincidence,” she said, echoing his words. “Because I find myself quite ardently in love with you. And very, very much in want of that kiss.”

It was an understatement. Everything inside her longed for his kiss. He was absolutely right when he had said that the right man would make her heart lift. It was beyond lifted—it was positively soaring.

His smile was slow and oh-so-satisfied as he looked down into her eyes. “Exactly the words I was hoping to hear.”

He pulled her close and kissed her then, making her toes curl and her ears ring. His lips were soft and warm, seeking instead of imposing. He let her melt into him like warm candlewax. She reveled in the feel of his body pressed against her own. He was a half-foot taller than she, but they somehow seemed perfectly matched, as though they had been made precisely for one another.

When his lips parted, she readily followed suit, wanting more. So much more. She wanted kisses every morning, and sweet touches every night. She wanted to swim naked by his side, and eat cake every day, and dance barefoot beneath the moon each night. And there were other things she wanted to do with him. Things she couldn’t yet name, but yearned for nonetheless.

When they broke apart long minutes later, he slid an affectionate finger along her jaw and said, “Are you happy now?”

Nuzzling his hand, she smiled wide. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life. Which is remarkable, because I have a feeling that it will only get better from here.”

His grin was full of promise. “I, for one, shall spend the rest of my days ensuring that your prediction holds true.”

She lifted a brow. “Shall we create a list? Things To Do Just Because We Want To? I think that would make me
very
happy, provided we do them together.”

Laughter rang out on the evening air. “I can think of nothing I’d like more.”

T
hree months later

“I still can’t believe you got your father to agree to the irrigation project. You must be even more persuasive than I realized.” Prudence sent a teasing smile to her husband of one week, then yelped as he playfully splashed her.

“Oh, ye of little faith. If I could convince you to marry me, why should you be surprised that I convinced my father to agree to your father’s schemes?”