Chapter Six #3
He turned back to the ale table, hoping to find Prudence there. And indeed she was, surrounded by half a dozen farmers, holding them in admiring thrall as she told a story about a farmer, his prize pig and the squire who loved bacon.
Reid neared and heard her assume accents and country dialects, and within moments all the men were roaring with laughter as she reached the end of her tale. They moved aside as Reid walked up.
“A fine story, I would guess.” He smiled at her and looked around at the others.
“Indeed it were, Mr. Reid,” said one of the farmers. “And the lady tells it with great style.”
A chorus of agreement and nods greeted that statement.
“Then I suggest we give a Christmas toast to Lady Eldridge and the Squire’s Pig.”
Everyone raised their tankards, and the toast was given with much enthusiasm.
“I thank you, gentlemen.” Pru curtseyed.
“And I am pleased you enjoyed the tale. But now I fear I must repeat it for Mr. Chillendale who missed the whole thing, so I beg your forgiveness for leaving you here at a table with only half a cask of the finest ale in the country…” She grinned. “There’s still time to finish it…”
Another cheer broke out and Reid eased her away from the crowd.
“Nicely done, Lady Eldridge.”
“Thank you, Mr. Chillendale. ‘T’was an old tale I heard when I was a very small girl. Probably not meant for ears such as mine, but as you saw, there’s always a place for a good story well told.”
“Indeed.” Reid guided her across the room to the food table, where there were already several empty serving trays. “Are you enjoying yourself?” He picked up a clean plate and selected a few delicacies.
“Very much. ‘Tis unlike anything I’ve experienced before.” She looked around. “The children seem to be having a wonderful evening.”
“They do. We all try to make it special, just for them. There will be church services, and other Christmas activities going on over the next fortnight, but this one? It’s built around the little ones.
” He leaned over, ostensibly to reach a tray of mince pies, but ended close to her ear.
“The festivities for the adults come later.”
She tilted her head as he held out the plate, offering her a choice of treats. “And when is later, Mr. Chillendale?” Her voice was a low whisper. “I find myself in a very festive mood.”
“Well, Lady Eldridge. If you’re returning to the Inn immediately, I’m not sure how to answer that question.” Reid surreptitiously grazed her body with his thigh as he moved them around the table.
“I believe I am allowed to be out late, sir.” She flashed him an amused glance. “There is no one to comment on my comings or goings…”
“Then I shall take great pleasure in observing your comings, Ma’am.”
“You might have to assist me in that matter, sir.”
“It would be my pleasure.”
“And mine.”
Reid’s breeches were far too tight, he realised. Also his mother was still in the hall and she was too sharp-eyed by half. So he backed away a little and took a mouthful of the legendary lemon tart he’d carefully picked for himself.
It was as good as ever, and he gave a slight sound of delight as he licked a crumb from his lip.
Then he saw Prudence’s eyes watching his tongue. Her cheeks betrayed a faint blush as she took a deep breath and turned away.
“Quite.” He spoke normally. “I believe I must speak with the Southwicks. Would you care to be introduced?”
She cleared her throat. “That would be pleasant, thank you.” She finished her food, although not cleaning her plate. It would seem that she was as affected by their discourse as he was.
Attempting to distract his errant thoughts, Reid recalled something. “I saw you speaking with Lord Southwick earlier. He seemed…distraught?”
“Oh, that man at the ale table?”
Reid nodded. “Yes.”
“I did not realise who he was. ‘T’was odd, Mr. Chillendale. He turned and saw me and his colour paled. He stared at me for the longest time, and finally he mumbled something about likenesses and then hurried off.”
“Well.” Reid was puzzled. “That is unlike him. But perhaps he thought you were someone else?”
She took his arm and let him lead her back through the Hall. “I’m sure it was something like that. I took no offense. It’s far too delightful an evening to worry about a small and unimportant incident.”
“And I do believe the best is yet to come.”
“Indeed.” She cast her eyes downward, demurely, lifting her gown slightly to reveal chestnut leather boots.
Reid was reminded of her hair. It was bound up in a tidy knot this evening, but still glowed. How much better it looked loose and tumbled around her ivory skin...
“Aren’t you going to introduce us, Reid?”
Lady Southwick’s voice cut through his erotic musings like a sharp knife through a freshly budded rose.
“I do beg your pardon, Ma’am.” He turned to Prudence and drew her forward. “Lady Southwick, may I present Lady Prudence Eldridge? She is cousin to Brent Rowdean and visiting the area in his company.”
“Well, how interesting,” gushed the older woman. “Cousin to a Viscount, eh? That is quite an accomplishment, dear. And might we inquire as to whether there is a Lord Eldridge?”
Nosy old bitch. Reid managed to strangle the thought before he gave it voice, but opened his mouth to respond. Prudence forestalled him with a slight touch on his arm.
“You are gracious to inquire, Ma’am,” she said. “Sadly, my husband was taken from me by illness some years ago now.”
“Oh.” Lady Southwick struggled with that. “My sympathies. It is difficult to be a widow at such a young age, I’m sure.”
“Indeed it is. How kind of you to understand.”
Flustered by the charm and self-control of the woman in front of her, Lady Southwick raised the white flag, metaphorically speaking. “I’m sure your family and friends are a great support to you.”
“Very much so.”
“And here’s dear Brent now. Has he told you of his childhood years here in the county?
How he adored it. And we of course adored him.
Why Emmeline thought he was the most amazing young man.
” She fluttered her hand, in lieu of a fan.
“I do believe she had quite the tendre for him. But I’m sure you remember what it was like to be a young girl. ”
With that final shot, Lady Southwick held out her hand to Brent, welcoming him into the group and drawing him next to Emmeline. Who blushed and giggled.
“I hope you’re having fun, dear sir. Aren’t the children delightful?”
To Reid’s surprise, Brent seemed to like that comment, bending his head to answer the girl and bringing a real smile to her face. During the brief conversation that followed, it was astounding to realise that Emmeline had apparently found her “r’s” along with a clear infatuation for “dear Brent”.
When arrangements were made for Brent to escort the Southwicks home in his hired carriage – Lord Southwick having apparently absconded with the family conveyance – both the Southwick ladies seemed eminently satisfied with the arrangement.
“I’ll take care of Prudence,” murmured Reid to Brent. “You take this lot. I owe you.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Brent shot him a quizzical glance and gathered his charges.
What that meant, Reid had no idea. But since he was standing next to Prudence, and now responsible for her safety, his mind was busy leaping to other matters of a more intimate nature.
“Let’s go,” he said, quietly.
“Where?”
“Our place.”
She looked at him, a slow smile curving those tempting lips.
“All right.”