Chapter 4
Prudence had spent the afternoon helping Mrs. Logan. Busy assembling the trifle, she startled at the sound of a door clicking shut. She looked up to see Bennet emerging, hair damp from the small bathing chamber off the kitchen. Mrs. Logan rushed to take the clothing he held.
“I’ll get this washed and dried out for you right away,” she said with a smile.
Wiping her hands on her apron, Prudence stepped around the worktable in the center of the kitchen. “What happened to your clothing?”
“I walked into town to fetch the part for the coach.”
She stared at him. While the rain had slowed a few times throughout the day, the past couple of hours had been a steady drenching as the wind had picked up once more. “You must have been soaked to the bone. How did I not see you come in?”
“You weren’t in here.”
“I must have been in the pantry.” She stared at his simply knotted cravat. “You miss your valet, don’t you?”
He laughed. “I don’t have a valet. Which is unfortunate since I’m rubbish at cravats.”
“No, you’re not. It looks nice and unfussy, not at all like most gentlemen in London. Do you prefer a more elaborate knot?”
“Honestly, I find them a nuisance. Not having to wear them while boxing is one of the things I like best about the sport.” He winked at her, and she hated how her body trembled. No one had ever flirted with her, and she likened her reaction to finding water after days in the desert.
“I still can’t believe you walked all the way to town and back. You must have walked very fast.”
“I ran partway. It seemed necessary if I was to return before dark.” A glance at the window told her he’d barely made it, for it was black as pitch outside now—not that the charcoal rainclouds had permitted the day to ever be bright.
“Plus, there was the rain. I was quite eager to get out of it. The last mile was a complete downpour.”
“No wonder you needed a bath,” she murmured. “Are you warm enough? You had to have been cold to the bone. Why don’t you go sit by the fire?”
“Come with me.” He went to the door and held it for her.
She looked toward Mrs. Logan, but the woman was already waving her out. Prudence untied her apron and set it on the worktable. “Thank you for letting me help,” she said.
“Thank you, my lady. The trifle will be especially delicious this evening.”
Prudence departed the kitchen, which was situated at the back of the inn, and made her way down a short corridor to the common room. Bennet followed her, and they sat at the table by the fire.
Bennet grinned widely. “I’m pleased to report that the coach is being repaired at this very moment. We’ll be able to leave for London tomorrow, provided the weather cooperates.”
“That is wonderful about the coach, but forgive me if I don’t hold my breath about the weather.”
“Are you always this skeptical?”
“Yes. It’s best to be prudent when managing one’s expectations.”
He frowned briefly. “You sound as if you’ve been disappointed too often.”
How did he see straight through her? No, not through her, but through her defenses and into her thoughts, into her feelings, which she worked so hard to keep buried.
It was most disconcerting. She didn’t like it one whit.
“Did you forget my name is Prudence?” she asked saucily, hoping to distract him. “Who will drive us to London?”
“Ah, well, that is a slight conundrum, but I’m working on it. If necessary, I’ll drive us.”
She sat straight against the back of her chair and leaned slightly forward. “You can’t do that. Is this about money?” She saw his jaw tighten. “Don’t bother prevaricating. Haven’t I seen you at your worst?”
He laughed, and she was surprised he could find humor about the subject given his clear desperation surrounding his financial state.
“It’s about a lack of money, yes. Everything seems to be about that.
” He exhaled in resignation, and she wondered if he’d just decided to surrender. Whatever that entailed.
“I’ll pay for the driver.” She had some money saved, surely enough for that. “I can compensate him when we get to London.”
His blond brows pitched to a V over his eyes. “Absolutely not. You’ve been through enough. I can drive us.”
“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. Let me pay for a driver.”
“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.” His mouth quirked into a smile, and she would have laughed if he wasn’t agitating her with his refusal.
“If you’re seen driving your own coach into Mayfair, your reputation will never recover.”
He touched his chest. “My darling, I am overcome that you are so concerned.”
“I am so glad you’re trapped here,” Mrs. Logan said from the doorway as she carried in a tray with a bottle and two glasses.
“Gives me the chance to enjoy the love you share. It brings such joy to Riverview.” She beamed at them as she poured two glasses of light-colored wine.
“This is a sack Mr. Logan found this morning. I hope you like it.” She left the bottle on the table before bustling back to the kitchen.
Prudence put her hand over her eyes and tipped her head down. They needed to be more cautious. What if Mrs. Logan had overheard them talking about his lack of funds or the fact that he’d abducted her?
She dropped her hand to her lap. “We need to be careful,” she whispered.
“Why? So the Logans don’t think we’re in love?” He smiled as he picked up his wineglass. “I think it’s best if they do. Perhaps I should kiss you for good measure.”
Heat flushed her neck and probably tinged her cheeks pink.
“You most certainly should not.” Except the thought of it made her tingle everywhere.
She’d had two kisses in her life—one nice and one awful.
She wanted to have one that made her body sing.
Or at least made her as giddy as Fiona and Cassandra had been.
Both had fallen in love while Prudence had been their companion, and both had exuded a joy and excitement that was impossible to ignore. Or not to be jealous of.
She took a deep breath and hoped she wasn’t blushing. “We need to be more careful about what we say so they don’t hear the truth. We need to keep pretending we’re betrothed.” Perhaps he should kiss her. When one of the Logans was present.
No!
“As I was saying, you can’t just drive us into Mayfair.” She kept her voice low and swept her glass up for a substantial drink to settle herself.
“I meant what I said—I’m delighted you care so much. Truly.” His smile was genuine. “But I’m fairly certain my reputation is in shreds, as it should be. I deserve to be pilloried, not that anyone knows why. Yet.”
“They won’t. I’m not going to tell anyone you kidnapped me or that you’d planned to take Cassandra.”
He stared at her in silence for a long moment, his features registering surprise, then awe and perhaps admiration. “You aren’t?”
She shook her head. She hadn’t completely decided until that moment. Now that she’d said it aloud, it seemed the obvious choice.
Now he looked at her in gratitude. “For as long as I live, I will never understand why you aren’t leading the charge against me.”
“What good would that do? I’m not in the business of contributing to anyone’s ruin.” She spoke rather vehemently—it was hard not to when discussing this matter—and he noticed. His gaze centered on her in open curiosity. She braced herself for his question, but it didn’t come.
“You are a singular woman,” he said softly. “I am still so sorry for what you’ve endured, and continue to endure, but I must confess I am glad to have come to know you.”
She knew he meant it, that he wasn’t just flattering her like some empty-headed buck. “You can stop apologizing. Really.”
“Just because I can doesn’t mean I should.” He smirked and lifted his glass in a silent toast.
Prudence couldn’t halt the giggle that slipped out. She took another drink of the sack. It really was quite delicious. The Logans’ wine supply was a marvel.
Sobering—slightly—he asked, “So what are you going to say?”
“I don’t know. I woke in the middle of the night and thought about it for some time. I wonder if I should seek help from Lucien. Lord Lucien, I mean.”
He blinked. “Do you know him well?”
Calling him Lucien had given her away. Or the fact that she knew he helped people.
Ah well, there was no help for it now, she may as well tell him the truth.
Or at least part of it. “Well enough to know he helps people, no matter their station. There is no problem too great that he doesn’t want to help solve. ”
“I suppose I’ve heard that about him, but I didn’t realize the scope of his assistance.”
“Meaning, you didn’t realize he helped people like me?” She tried not to jump to the worst conclusion, but she found herself speaking more freely to him than she did to just about anyone else. She blamed their close quarters and spending so much time together.
“That wasn’t really what I meant, but I suppose that’s also a valid point. I wouldn’t have thought so, no. I meant that I’m surprised he would help with a matter such as this. Anyway, he won’t want to help you when he realizes you’re protecting me.”
Prudence sipped her wine and set it on the table, flattening her palm around the base, with the stem between her thumb and forefinger. “He isn’t going to know you’re involved.”
Bennet stared at her as if she’d sprouted horns. “I didn’t think you could shock me more than you already have, but you intend to ask Lord Lucien Westbrook for help with this catastrophe that I created without mentioning me at all?”
“Yes. Keeping you out of it is precisely why we need help.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Please don’t question me or my motives. Just be relieved that I wish to keep you out of it.”
He gaped at her. “I don’t know what to say.”
“For once,” she muttered with a hint of a smile, teasing him.
His laughter warmed the air around them. “You are incomparable. Can you really be so sure that he’ll help you? Just because you’re companion to his sister?”
“That’s not why. He’s helped me before.”