A Prudent Match (15 page)

Within the shelter of a stand of alder Prudence paused to catch her breath. She could hear the starlings cry above and watched as a mistle-thrush flew with twigs to build a nest. There was the murmur of a stream nearby. She followed an overgrown path in the direction of the sound and came in time to a meandering creek that rolled over mossy rocks and lapped at its muddy banks.

The peacefulness of the scene calmed her. With a shaky sigh Prudence dropped down onto a rotting log and allowed herself to absorb the gentle sounds of nature all around her. She would have to apologize to Ledbetter, of course, and she disliked apologizing. Especially when she was still convinced that he was entirely in the wrong.

Prudence sat for some time with her elbows on her knees, her chin on her locked fingers. Her tumultuous emotions gradually dwindled to a vague discontent. Well, what had she expected, agreeing to marry Ledbetter on such short re-acquaintance, and with the full knowledge that it was her money he needed? Though why, when she looked at the perfectly groomed estate around her he should be in the least need of ready cash, she could hardly imagine.

Some gambling debt, perhaps. Gentlemen were so ludicrous about their play-and-pay rules. They could merrily leave their tailors and bootmakers to starve, but heaven forbid they should delay the payment of a gambling loss to one of their rich friends.

A brown hare bounded alongside the stream, pausing momentarily to dip its mouth in the water. Prudence watched as it hopped back into the woods. Her gaze, lifted from the stream, now came to rest on her husband, who was leaning against a tree across the water, staring at her. She could feel a flush rise to her cheeks, but she refused to budge from the log. Let him come to her if he chose, or to go away again and leave her alone.

When it became obvious that she intended to remain where she was, he gave an exaggerated sigh and headed toward her. He easily cleared the stream in one leap and seated himself beside her on the log. “You'll ruin your gown,” he pointed out.

“Then I'll buy another one,” she retorted. “With that generous allowance you've granted me.”

His brows rose in surprise. “Isn't it? I agreed to precisely what your father requested.”

“It's far too much,” she complained bitterly. “No woman consigned to country life could possibly go through the half of it.”

“Am I to understand that you would prefer a smaller allowance,” he asked carefully, “or that you would prefer to spend time in London?”

“I'm sure my wishes are not of the least concern to you.”

“Ah, of course not. I'd forgotten.”

Prudence, who had been avoiding his eyes, now attempted to meet them. “I'm sorry I behaved so inexcusably, William. It was childish of me to walk out on you.”

“Yes, it was. I trust you won't feel the need to do it again.”

“I should think that will depend entirely upon you,” she said, smiling sweetly.

“My dear lady, you can't hold
me
responsible for
your
behavior.”

“Whyever not? You hold everyone else responsible for making you impatient, do you not?”

“How did this get to be about me?”

“I believe it was you who insisted upon ignoring my very plainly expressed and entirely reasonable request.”

“So it was. How could I have forgotten that?”

“And I should like to know how you found me here in the woods, too. I came here to be alone.”

“I saw you from the dining room window, scurrying across the lawn in that ridiculous shawl, and was afraid you would freeze to death.”

“I was not scurrying,” she retorted. “And I would remind you that this is the very same shawl you offered me yesterday for our drive.”

“How could I forget?” Ledbetter eyed her wildly disordered hair and her pink nose. “You must be devilishly cold, Prudence. Won't you come in with me?”

“Am I forgiven?”

Ledbetter grunted and ran a hand through his own windblown hair. “If I am,” he said, somewhat grudgingly.

Prudence nodded. “It was just that I had planned something special, a surprise for you, with Newhall, William. Something I thought you would be pleased with. And if he is not here to bring it about . . .” She lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “I never meant to interfere or question your authority.”

“You're going to be the ruin of me,” he muttered. “Every time I get impatient with you, it turns out I'm an ass to have done so. I foresee a time, which will come very shortly, when I'm too intimidated by the possibility of once again proving myself a numbskull to indulge my worst habit. Then where shall I be? A perfectly reasonable human being.”

Prudence giggled. “You're absurd. And,” she added, dropping her eyes, “you have been exceedingly patient with me . . . in certain things.”

“So I have!” he agreed in a mocking voice. “I have proven that I am not entirely a brute, have I not?”

“You have.” Prudence rose and dusted off the wood chips from her skirts. Ledbetter adjusted the shawl around her shoulders and then allowed his fingers to stray through her hair. She looked up at him with a puzzled frown.

“I love your hair,” he said.

“It is very odd of you.”

He laughed and placed a kiss on her cold nose. “Not at all. Has no one told you before how glorious it is?”

“No. Though Tessie seems to admire it as well. I can't think why.”

Ledbetter merely shook his head and tucked her arm through his. “Let's get you back to a warm fire. And you're probably hungry. We'll have an early tea.”

Chapter Thirteen

The baron was finding that being married was entirely different than he had supposed it would be. What he had said to his bride about his discomposure was entirely true. It was a new experience for him to be held accountable for his behavior in just such a way. Not that he was accustomed to riding roughshod over his employees and acquaintance. But it had not actually occurred to him that he might in fact misjudge the simplest situation and then be shamed into apologizing for his actions or words.

And he wouldn't have believed it possible if he
had
considered the matter, either.

Yet here was a chit of a girl insisting that he behave like a gentleman. Imagine! Ledbetter smiled ruefully as he observed himself in the mirror while he dressed for dinner. He had seldom been as startled in his life as when Prudence had walked out of their midday meal. On the other hand, he had been genuinely touched to hear that she was planning a surprise for him. How could he comfortably reconcile the two facets of her character? And did he need to?

The truth was that she charmed him. Those big, honest eyes. That sensational hair. Her warmth and humor. Her delight with even the smallest things. Her response to his kiss and his touch. Oh, she was worth learning a little patience for. And he had every intention of convincing her that she had not made a mistake in marrying him.

Ledbetter, lost in thought, allowed his valet to accomplish a rather complicated and distinguished neckcloth arrangement without shifting in irritation. His man regarded him speculatively, but said nothing as he carefully brushed down Ledbetter's jacket and tweaked it until it fit perfectly over his broad shoulders. When the man reached up to give one more finicky touch to the cravat, however, the baron grimaced.

“It will be fine, Balliot,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Very good, my lord.”

“Don't wait up for me,” Ledbetter added, as he had each night since he had arrived at Salston. Though he knew it pained Balliot to find the baron's clothes carelessly tossed on the bed, Ledbetter did not lead his life to please his servants. “I'll ring for you when I need you in the morning.”

“Very good, sir.”

Ledbetter waited until the valet had departed before crossing the hall to knock on his wife's door. Tessie answered immediately and dropped a hasty curtsy. “Lady Ledbetter is almost ready, Lord Ledbetter,” she said.

“Welcome to Salston, Tessie,” he said, observing the girl carefully as she rose from her curtsey. There was nothing submissive about her posture, though there was nothing insolent, either. On the whole he thought perhaps he preferred that self-confident air to the one of obsequiousness with which he was more frequently faced.

“Thank you, sir. It's a lovely house, and the people have been ever so kind.”

“I'm pleased to hear it.” His gaze shifted to his wife, who stood before the mirror with a different earring in each hand. She wore a gown of burgundy zephryine and looked particularly fetching. “May I come in, Prudence?”

“Certainly. We were just debating the wisdom of garnets with the burgundy gown or pearls. You may decide if you wish.”

“The garnets,” he said instantly. Then he lifted a hand and said, “No, wait. I have something of my mother's that would suit you and that gown admirably.”

He had meant to save them for the night of their party, but the present seemed as good a time as any to bestow them on his bride. It took him but a moment to retrieve them from the strongbox in his sitting room, but when he returned he found that Tessie had gone and Prudence was alone. He smiled his approval.

“It wasn't my idea,” Prudence admitted. “Tessie said she would be in the way if you were going to present me with some family heirloom. I assured her it was no such thing, but she insisted.”

“Obviously she's as clever as you assumed, my dear, for I do indeed intend to bestow a family heirloom on you.”

His wife flushed. “There's no need, really, William. The garnets will look quite attractive with my dress.”

“These will look better,” he insisted.

The old jewelry case had been through several generations, but its contents sparkled as brightly as the day they were cut. The diamond necklace and earring set gleamed in the candlelight against its plush velvet bed. Prudence took a step backward, her eyes flying to Ledbetter's. “But they must be worth a fortune!” she exclaimed.

“I dare say they are. Been in the family for nearly a century.”

“But, William, they should go to your sister!”

“No, these are for my wife. They have always been for the Baroness Ledbetter. One of the advantages of the job,” he teased. “Don't you like them, Prudence?”

“They're the most beautiful jewels I've ever seen.”

Gratified, he lifted the necklace from the case and put it around her neck. The clasp was an awkward one, and it took him a moment to get the hang of it. By the time he was able to observe the sparkling stones against her chest, he found his wife staring at herself in the mirror, bemused.

“But, William, just for dinner, the two of us. They should be saved for special occasions.”

“Well, I had intended to give them to you next week when we have the neighbors in, but I can see no reason the neighbors should enjoy them before I do. They look lovely on you, my dear. Here. Try the earrings.”

When she stood before him in the matching set of diamonds, Ledbetter felt an unfamiliar tightness in his chest. This was the woman with whom he was destined to spend his life. She looked magnificent, every inch a baroness. How had he managed to choose a woman so perfectly suited to be mistress of Salston?

Prudence interrupted his train of thought, the bemused smile still on her face. “Thank you, William. They're magnificent.”

“They become you.” He frowned a little as he studied her face. “You know, I believe there is a matching tiara somewhere. I'll look it out before next week.”

“I hardly think the occasion will be grand enough for me to wear a tiara,” she said with amusement. “One day, if you take me to a ball, I shall be delighted to wear it.”

“
If
I take you to a ball? My dear girl, I'm sure there will be numerous occasions on which we attend balls together.”

He was surprised to see the doubt in her eyes, but she merely smiled and said, “Of course. Though no one will be able to see a tiara if you insist on my leaving my hair wild this way.”

“Your hair is like some exotic bird's plumage. It declares your uniqueness. You should be proud of it, Prudence.”

She flushed slightly and dipped her head in acknowledgment of his compliment. “Shall we go down now?”

“Certainly, if you're ready.”

Ledbetter resisted a strong impulse to kiss his bride and instead moved to hold her bedroom door open. Very much to his surprise, she paused when she came abreast of him and stood on tiptoe to place a shy, sweet kiss on his lips. Then she immediately continued through the door and out into the hall.

* * * *

Prudence felt as though the diamonds bestowed an unusual animation on her. Throughout dinner she fancied that she sparkled as richly as the stones did in the light from the chandelier. She told amusing stories about the village where she had lived all her life, and discussed with intelligence the writers whose books Allen had sent her to read. And she drew Ledbetter out about his interests in archeology and Greek myths.

For hours they sat across the enormous table from each other, talking and laughing as though they were the best of friends and the most equal of minds. It was the most stimulating evening Prudence could remember ever experiencing. And when they at length adjourned to the drawing room, Ledbetter seated himself close beside her on the sofa and read to her from
Emma
in that deep, lovely voice of his.

She liked the solid feel of his arm and thigh against hers. His left hand held the volume with ease while he prepared to turn a page with the fingers of his right. Prudence found herself watching his hands, and remembering where he had placed them on her body the previous evening. And the sensations that they had elicited from her. She wondered if he would do that again—touch her that way. To her surprise, the thought, though a little alarming, was more one of anticipation than dread.

After a while she found it difficult to keep her mind on the story, for thinking about what might happen when Ledbetter set down the leather-bound book and turned to her. But he continued to read, obviously unaware of her curiosity, and Prudence eventually found it necessary to simulate a cough to draw his attention.

“Shall I ring for tea?” he asked, concerned. “Perhaps you need something to soothe your throat.”