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
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
Similar Books
