Chapter 6 #2
Perhaps it would be best if she sought employment away from London. Then she’d never risk seeing Bennet, and she could settle into a long-term position with someone older. No more young ladies falling in love.
Did she think it was catching? What a preposterous thought.
She felt nothing for Bennet beyond a warm affection due to the time they’d spent together.
The day after tomorrow, she’d leave this idyllic time—and the scoundrel beside her—in the past. She’d look forward and leave everything behind, including the truth of her birth, the hope of finding her real mother, and all the nagging emotions that accompanied those things.
Clearheaded and unencumbered, she’d embrace the future and whatever it brought.
Their forced sojourn was about to come to an end.
After six long days, half of which had seen them nearly flooded away, they could finally leave on the morrow. Provided they had a means of departure. Bennet was waiting for Logan to return with good news.
Unsettled, he went out into the yard, where the dusky sky was overcast. Despite the coming of night, it was still warm, quite different from the storms that had ravaged the area just a couple of days before.
The tree had been removed from the stable roof, but the repair to the building would take some time. His wrecked coach still sat beneath it.
Of course he was unsettled. He’d lost his only coach, and he didn’t have the funds to replace it.
He supposed he could sell his horses since they didn’t have a coach to pull.
That was a very small benefit. Except he liked those horses.
Ah well, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t parted with many things he would rather have kept.
If he were honest, and he wasn’t always, as evidenced by what had brought him here, he’d realize there was more to his agitation than the loss of his coach.
Or the fact that he’d nearly ruined poor Prudence’s life.
He’d become rather fond of her. Fond? He bloody well thought about her almost every waking moment.
And many of his sleeping moments if his dreams last night were any indication.
Sharing a bed with her had been a poor idea, but they’d come through it unscathed. How many times had he nearly turned toward her and gone through with the kiss he’d intended yesterday?
He stroked his fingertips across his lips where the imprint of her lips still blazed. Shock hadn’t been his first reaction but delight, anticipation, desire. He’d nearly kissed her in return before his sanity had returned.
Yet another moment where he’d lost his control.
Clenching his jaw, he lowered his hand to his side. The sound of a horse drew him to turn.
Logan rode into the yard and dismounted. “Evening, your lordship,” he said.
“Good evening.”
“Looks as though you’ll be able to leave tomorrow, and not just because of the weather. My neighbor is going to London and can take both you and Lady Prudence.” He paused before continuing. “You should know he’ll be traveling in a cart. I will understand if you’d rather not travel in such a state.”
“It’s fine,” Bennet assured him before thinking if it really was fine for Prudence. She deserved an enclosed coach where she would be protected from the elements.
Except she wouldn’t care about that, and he’d promised her he’d return her to London as soon as possible. This was as soon as possible, and he thought he knew her well enough to know she would jump at the chance.
“It’s more than fine,” Bennet amended. “It’s wonderful. Pru will be thrilled to get back to London. Not that she hasn’t enjoyed her time here. We both have.”
“Is that possible?” Logan chuckled. “You’ve worked as hard as anyone, and she might be the best help Mrs. Logan has ever had. You’ve got yourself quite a woman there, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“I don’t,” Bennet said softly. Prudence was an incomparable woman.
He meant that he didn’t mind Logan saying so, but he realized it could also have meant that he didn’t have her.
Because that was the truth—Prudence wasn’t his.
In that moment, the thought of parting from her was almost agony.
She’d become so much a part of his daily routine.
He could see them together at Aberforth Place.
He’d take on repairs and working in the garden. She’d cook and keep things tidy.
And what about his family? He’d somehow keep their true natures hidden?
With marriage necessary, Bennet had realized his viscountess would learn of his family’s affliction, but he’d honestly never thought about the specifics, the how and when he would tell her.
He supposed he’d hoped to keep it from her as much as possible.
How foolish that sounded now. Did he really think Prudence wouldn’t notice everyone’s moods? Or the way his great-aunts obsessed over things to the point of making themselves ill. She would immerse herself in his household, as a good viscountess would.
Except she wouldn’t be there at all. This betrothal was a farce, even if it had begun to feel quite real.
Bennet pivoted toward the house. “I’d best go in. I suspect Mrs. Logan has dinner about ready.”
“I think she made something special since you’ll be leaving us tomorrow. Don’t tell her I told you.” Logan winked at him before leading the horse to the stable.
Returning to the inn, Bennet paused just inside the doorway.
Prudence was in the common room, standing next to the table near the hearth.
She wore one of the two gowns she’d brought, and though it wasn’t the most fashionable, nor was she bedecked in jewels or sporting an intricate hairstyle, she was breathtakingly beautiful.
There was an ethereal quality to her, as if she’d stepped from a folktale.
It was quite at odds with her strong, no-nonsense nature.
He envisioned her with jewels, an expensive costume, and sophisticated coiffure. She would steal every bit of attention at a ball.
“You’re staring at me,” she said, narrowing her eyes slightly.
“I’m struck silent by your beauty.” He went to take her hand and bowed gallantly as if they were in a ballroom. “I would ask you to waltz if we were at a ball.”
“I don’t know how.”
“It’s quite simple, really. I can teach you some time.”
“There’s no reason for me to learn. And no, you can’t. Or have you forgotten that this is the last night we’ll spend in each other’s company? That is, if we actually have a mode of transportation.”
“I have not forgotten,” he said quietly. He moved to hold her chair, and she sat down. “I have good news regarding our trip to London. Mr. Logan has secured us passage with his neighbor, who is driving there tomorrow.” He sat opposite her and poured wine from the bottle Mrs. Logan had set out.
“‘Us’?” Her brow creased. “I thought I was returning to London alone. I told you that I didn’t require your presence.”
“Don’t become agitated. Mr. Logan arranged it, and I didn’t think it wise to provoke his curiosity.
Besides, it’s not the sort of transport I would prefer you take, and I’ll feel better riding with you.
” She opened her mouth, and he held up his hand.
“Please don’t argue with me. We’ll be riding in a cart, not a coach.
I hope you don’t mind that I agreed on your behalf. ”
She pursed her lips briefly. “I suppose it’s what a future husband should do. To do anything else would, as you said, provoke curiosity. Anyway, a cart is fine, so long as it delivers me within a few miles of Mayfair. I can walk the rest of the way if need be.”
“You won’t. I’ll make sure you’re delivered to Lord Lucien’s.”
“To the Phoenix Club, I think, depending on what time we arrive. It will likely be afternoon, and that’s where he is most afternoons.”
“Very well. I do hope you’ll let me know if I can be of further assistance. For anything. At any time.”
She inclined her head. “Thank you. However, I daresay Lucien will be able to help me secure a new position, and then everything will be back to normal.”
He envied her certainty, her positivity. Normal wasn’t something he recognized anymore, and he wasn’t sure he ever would again.
Mrs. Logan brought their dinner, a lovely roast with a variety of vegetables and a rich sauce made from red wine. “There’s another trifle for dessert. I know how much you enjoyed it.” She looked specifically at Bennet, who’d had three helpings of it the other night.
“You are too wonderful, Mrs. Logan,” he said, grinning. “Truly.”
“It is my pleasure, especially with all the help you and Lady Prudence have given us since the storm. I hope Mr. Logan told you he doesn’t plan on charging you for your stay.”
Bennet hated how relieved that made him feel. “That is very kind of him.”
Mrs. Logan returned to the kitchen, and Bennet lifted his glass in a toast. “To mistakes made and overcome and friendships forged.”
Prudence raised her glass. “And to not having to pay after losing your coach.” She must have seen his faint grimace because a flash of alarm darted across her features. “I know you must be relieved, and there’s no harm or shame in that,” she said softly.
“Thank you.” He wanted to take her in his arms and thank her properly. It had been a very long time since he’d revealed the truth to anyone. If he wasn’t careful, he would tell her every one of his secrets. Only, if she knew them, she’d run far away.
And he wouldn’t blame her. On the contrary, he’d be the first one to tell her to go.
They ate for a few minutes, and it seemed the air between them grew thick, with things unsaid, perhaps. Or undone.
“You aren’t a villain,” she said, picking up her wineglass. “I hope you know that.”
“So you tell me. I behaved rather villainously, however. It’s going to take me some time to get over that.” He tried to smile, to take the darkness out of his words, but failed.