Vexed by a Viscount (2 page)

Prudence froze as a fat drop of water plopped on her shoulder.

Oh God, her
hair
.

She had purposely requested it be styled high on her head today, with the intention to keep it dry during her little escapade. Now it was a sopping, sodden mess, sagging heavily to one side. It had been a panicked response, diving beneath the surface like that. The possibility of Lord Ashby seeing her had spurred her into action, without a single thought to the fact that she could only hold her breath for thirty seconds or so.

This day was just getting better and better. Fishing the pins from the ruined style, she tried to keep her rising panic at bay. How on earth could she possibly explain wet hair?

She could say she was walking along the stream, slipped, and fell in, but her dry gown would immediately brand her a liar. What other excuse could there be? She wracked her brain as she wrung out her hair and attempted to finger comb the knots out. Being hit in the face with a bucketful of water was downright ludicrous, as was falling head first into a water trough.

As she twisted her tresses into something vaguely resembling a chignon, she tried to think of something—
anything—
that would make sense. She stabbed a few pins into place before dropping her hands to her lap with a defeated groan. Falling into the stream was her most viable excuse. As such, there was only one thing to do.

Gathering her skirts, her remaining hairpins, and what was left of her dignity, she trudged off toward the stream that delineated the Malcolm estate from her own.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

***

N
early an hour later, Prudence got exactly the reception she had anticipated as she plodded through the door, both her gown and her spirits thoroughly dampened. As if by magic, her mother appeared in the front entry hall, her normally pale cheeks overly pink and her eyes wide in abject horror.

Setting both hands over her narrow chest, she said, “Good heavens, child, what happened to you?”

Walking home wearing multiple layers of sopping wet clothing had not put Prudence in the best of moods. Still, the very last thing she needed was to anger or upset her mother. Meeting Mama’s widened gaze, she said, “I ventured too close to the stream bank, I’m afraid. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get out of these clothes as soon as possible.”

Mama nodded in earnest, flapping her hand for Prudence to hurry up to her chambers. “Go, go! I won’t have you catching your death. I’ll ring for your maid and have the kitchen set water to boil for a bath.”

Despite the disastrous afternoon, Prudence managed a wan smile. “That sounds nice. Thank you, Mama.” Her mother wasn’t normally the most solicitous person in the world, so it was gratifying to see her concern.

“Well, we can’t have you looking like a half-drowned cat when Squire Jeffries comes for dinner tonight. Now do hurry up. It’s going to be a feat to get you presentable in time.”

Prudence’s already lead stomach clanked to the floor. “The squire is coming to dinner tonight? I had no idea!” No wonder her mother was so attentive all of a sudden.

Dismay flooded through Prudence’s veins as she worked out the timing in her head. Blast it all, Jeffries would probably be here until late into the evening. How could she possibly sneak off to Malcolm Manor now? The image of Lord Ashby laughing with friends at the tavern as he regaled them with the story of her nude swim brought heat surging to her cheeks. She
had
to speak to him before the night was over.

Perhaps she could claim illness. After the frigid dowsing in the stream, the possibility of coming down with the plague didn’t seem entirely unreasonable.

Mama nodded briskly, causing the graying blond curls that spilled from beneath her mobcap to bob. “Indeed, my dear. He sent word of his intent to visit just after you set out for your walk, and naturally I responded with an invitation to dinner. It’s all set, and you can even expect a few moments of privacy with him, now that the betrothal contract has been signed.”

This was said with an indulgent smile, as though Prudence had eagerly been awaiting time alone with the man more than twice her age who was soon to be her husband. She drew a deep breath, trying not to linger on the cool buzz of panic that crept up her spine. She was a good daughter, and she would do as her parents instructed, just as she always had.

The list
, she thought, diverting her anxious mind. It was a lifeline of sorts. Something to look forward to when the rest of her future was too bleak to contemplate.

By the time she reached her room, she felt moderately better. These two weeks were hers. For a short moment in time, she would live outside the boundaries of propriety, so that when she was stuck in her gilded prison at the squire’s side for the rest of her life—or at least for the rest of
his
life—she would have something on which to look back and smile. Once upon a time, she could say, she had done exactly as she pleased.

Of course, the trick was making sure she didn’t get caught again.

Her maid bustled in and quickly divested Prudence of her wet clothes. As she obediently moved this way and that, Prudence’s mind wandered back to the viscount—the young, handsome, charming, impossible to talk to viscount whom she’d known almost her whole life, but with whom she had never been able to summon the nerve to have anything other than a perfectly polite, perfectly boring conversation.
I’m well, thank you, my lord. Yes, the weather is just lovely! Do enjoy your day.

She wrinkled her nose just thinking of what a featherbrain he must think her.

Like it or not, she would have to speak with him tonight. The very thought sent butterflies dancing through her belly. He was just so . . . intimidating. Not in a bad way, but in an out-of-her-reach way. Her family was well-known and respected in their small little corner of England, but it wasn’t as though they were part of the beau monde
,
as Lord Ashby and his family were. She’d never had a London Season, and wouldn’t ever be presented at court. She was just a plain country girl who was about to become a plain country wife, destined to live her life shut away in an estate that was miles and miles from anything.

And if that thought made her throat tighten, well then, she could just think of the list.

***

“M
r. Landon has come to call, my lord. Are you at home?”

Ash glanced up sharply at the butler’s words. He sincerely hoped his neighbor’s presence was a coincidence. After catching his daughter naked—though unfortunately shrouded by murky water—only hours ago, the unexpected visit couldn’t help but elicit unease.

“Yes, I’m available. Send him to the drawing room and have some tea sent up. I’ll be there presently.”

As Tolbert nodded and withdrew, Ash sighed and ran a hand through his hair. God willing, this was merely a casual visit. When he arrived in the drawing room, his neighbor was standing by the window, looking out over the courtyard.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Landon. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The older man turned and offered a perfunctory smile. Ash breathed a silent sigh of relief. He obviously wasn’t here about Miss Landon’s escapade.

“Lord Ashby,” he said with a dignified nod. The long, wispy pieces of hair that had been carefully combed across his thinning pate shifted forward with the movement. “I heard you’d returned, and I wished to be the first to welcome you back.”

Right. Having been raised by a father who was legendary for his ruthless pursuit of advantageous connections, Ash could read between the lines. Now that he was done with university, he was no longer seen as the young pup. He was a man now, one with a title, a fortune, and perhaps most important, an earldom in his future. Social climbers were to be expected.

On his guard, Ash allowed his smile to slide toward cool. “Very hospitable of you. I trust all is well with your interests.”

“All is well, thank you.” Landon paused, cutting his sly gaze toward Ash. “Though I must admit, things would be a lot better if I could convince the earl of the benefits of a joint irrigation project.”

Ah.
Ash had forgotten that his father had dismissively mentioned Landon’s pleading on the matter months ago. Shaking his head, he said, “If you can convince the earl to do anything, sir, then you’ll have accomplished something quite singular indeed.”

The man’s lips lifted in a cunning, commiserative grin. “I imagine that as his only son, you must hold some sway with him. I’m a firm believer that this project would be beneficial to both the estates for generations to come.”

How little Landon knew of his longtime neighbor. Ash was as much a trophy to his father as his stepmother was. Easy to take out, polish, show off to the neighbors, but never seen as anything of any true worth or value. He couldn’t recall a single time his father had asked his opinion about anything, in fact.

Besides, Ash knew his father well enough to be confident he would never agree to the project. The earl wanted superiority over everything and everyone around him. Having superior land to his neighbors was no doubt a point of pride. With complete honesty, he said, “My father takes no one’s counsel but his own, sir, I assure you.”

Shaking his head, Landon held firm. “You underestimate just how proud he is of the man you have become. Regardless, I hope you’ll join us tonight for dinner. A small affair, but certainly preferable to dining alone, I would hope.”

It was on the tip of Ash’s tongue to decline, but the image of Miss Landon in the lake slipped through his mind. What the devil had she been up to, anyhow? He couldn’t help but wonder how she would react to seeing him again. Had she changed so much in the few months since he had seen her? Was it even possible for a mousy little thing like her to suddenly throw off her inhibitions and become some sort of bold temptress?

Temptress
wasn’t the right word. She certainly hadn’t been trying to seduce him, of that much he was certain. Still, one didn’t simply change one’s personality. He was curious about what had motivated her to do such a thing as swim naked in the lake in broad daylight, and the opportunity to learn more had just been handed to him on a silver platter.

Smiling to his guest, he said, “Do you know, I think that sounds like just the thing.”

W
ithout so much as a scratch at the door, Prudence’s mother came sailing into her bedchamber, her thin hands fluttering like damp tissue paper in a stiff breeze. “Oh, thank heavens you are presentable. It seems as though we are to have another guest tonight, because of course things like even numbers are of no interest to your father.”

Not daring to move her head as her maid jabbed the final pins into her freshly styled hair, Prudence lifted an eyebrow instead. “Oh? Who has he managed to importune today?”

“Viscount Ashby.”

Prudence jerked her head around, nearly yanking her coiffure from its moors. Harriet cried out in dismay, but Prudence ignored her. “
Lord Ashby?
Whatever does he want with us?” Her whole body tensed, dreading the answer.

Mama gave a mildly irritated sigh. “Your father went to see him this afternoon, and apparently was inspired to extend the invitation. Normally I’d be delighted to have a lord at my table, but it will make things terribly awkward with the squire here too.”

Prudence tried to quiet her growing unease. Mama had no idea just how awkward things could be. If he breathed even a single word about what he saw today . . . She swallowed. God willing, he had enough sense and discretion to keep his mouth closed. And if he didn’t? Well, she would find out soon enough.

A scratch at the door preceded a maid’s entrance. “Beggin’ yer pardon, ma’am, but Squire Jeffries has arrived. He’s waitin’ in the drawing room.”

“Thank you, Agnes,” Mama said before turning back to Prudence. Looking her up and down, she gave a nod of approval. “You look quite well tonight. Your beau will be well pleased.”

Mama had been relentless over the years in her attempts to groom Prudence into a proper young lady, but with the coming marriage, she actually seemed to be softening. In fact, her eyes betrayed a hint of pride.

And why shouldn’t she be proud? She had produced the most obedient daughter the county had ever seen. Prudence smiled, just as she was expected to do, and came to her feet. There was no use putting off the inevitable. “Shall we?”

Upon their arrival to the drawing room, Squire Jeffries stretched his thin lips into a passable expression of greeting and bowed. He was dressed head to toe in gunmetal gray, with a lifeless white cravat knotted at his neck. “Good evening, Mrs. Landon, Miss Landon. You are both looking quite lovely.”

Though his tone held nothing but politeness, his gaze eagerly swept over her form. She had to squelch the desire to cross her arms over her chest. He was her betrothed, after all. However he felt about taking on a wife, it was clear he had no objection to Prudence’s figure. In theory, that was a good thing; but in reality, it made her feel decidedly uneasy. Soiled, even.

The problem was that there was absolutely no doubt in her mind that the man wouldn’t be marrying her if it wasn’t for her tidy dowry and assumed ability to procreate. As her father had stated more times than she could count, a man needed heirs. Squire Jeffries had lived as a bachelor as long as he dared, and was now reluctantly seeing to the task of producing offspring.

And that was where Prudence came in. She knew it was akin to a business transaction, but it didn’t get any more personal than having to give over every part of her life and person to this man forevermore.

She bit her lip. There was that dirty feeling again.

Still, regardless of her feelings, he was to be her husband, and she was determined to make the best of it. She lifted her lips in a small, dignified smile and dipped into a well-practiced curtsey. “Good evening to you as well, sir. It is an honor to have you dine with us this evening.”