Prudence smiled before she set-off purposely away from the vehicle. Hearing Fitzwilliam speak to Anne, she smiled up at him as he came alongside her still on his mount. “Not playing chaperone?”
Pausing, whilst he dismounted, Fitzwilliam grinned at Prudence. “What mischief are you up to?”
With a feigned innocent look, Prudence batted her eyes. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Come now. You’re playing it too brown.”
“Oh, all right. Anne might have mentioned that she thinks Mr. Huxley is handsome.” Prudence shrugged. “And he seemed very keen to take up my offer, so I think there might be a mutual attraction there.”
Fitzwilliam laughed. “If you think Aunt Catherine would consider for a moment a romance between those two, you have learned nothing since your arrival in Kent.”
“If they were to fall in love with each other, why not?” Prudence shrugged.
“The heiress of Rosings, married to the steward? Now, that would cause gossip,” Fitzwilliam smiled. “Aunt Catherine would have apoplexy.”
“People should be allowed to marry whomever they wish, especially when there are no constraints such as money. Anne will have enough funds to keep them, and Mr. Huxley obviously works hard for the benefit of Rosings. It’s a perfect match in my view.”
“Seriously, Cousin. Even if Anne wished it to happen, she’d never have the courage to stand up to her mother to achieve what she wished. An encouragement of the scheme by any of us would only end with Anne suffering,” Fitzwilliam cautioned.
“Then the poor girl is doomed to end her days lonely and unloved, for I cannot imagine Anne wishing to marry someone who is of a similar personality to Darcy. He might not be as bad as Anne makes out, but to her, he is terrifying. Not a good prospect in a marriage.”
“I am sure Aunt Catherine will have started to think of a different husband for Anne, now that she has had to accept that Darcy will not be marrying her.”
“How cold for all the parties involved.”
“It is how things are sometimes. A business transaction to join lands or secure wealth or heritage. Love matches happen but aren’t the case in every marriage.”
“You have said that you are one of those who cannot marry as you wish?”
“Not if I want a good lifestyle,” Fitzwilliam admitted, but for the first time the thought of seeking out an heiress and marrying her for her money didn’t sound as appealing as it had.
“I hope to marry for love, which is why, at five and twenty, I am single,” Prudence smiled.
“Does your father wish you to marry? Most girls have married by the time they’re one and twenty at the latest. Many marry straight out of the schoolroom. Any older and they’re in danger of being on the shelf.”
“Goodness me! What sort of a society do you belong to?” Prudence exclaimed. “I admit many women do tend to marry by the ages you mentioned, but I am not the only one of my peer group who is unwed. I don’t feel we are cast off as unmarriageable quite so quickly as you seem to make out those in your circles are.”
“Has your father not encouraged you to find a husband?”
“He wants me to marry one day, but I’m under no pressure from him to do so,” Prudence admitted. “It seems his ideas of my securing at least a viscount will come to naught though.” She laughed. “I did not realise I was an old maid. I thought I had years yet before that label was attached to me.”
“Your father wanted you to come to Rosings in order to secure a title?” Fitzwilliam asked in disbelief.
“Oh, take that expression off your face!” Prudence laughed. “I’m not a deluded fool and neither is Papa. We were funning with each other when he mentioned it. He had his reasons for contacting Aunt Catherine all those years ago, and I have my own reasons for visiting since our aunt issued her invitation. Neither involve securing a viscount, or any other title, for that matter.”
“I see,” Fitzwilliam said. He couldn’t understand the feeling of relief that swept through him, but knew he was unaccountably happy at her words. It must be to do with her not being disappointed. That was it. His concern was for his cousin, wasn’t it?
Prudence accompanied Fitzwilliam to the stables, chatting as he tended his horse, and they entered the house laughing at something or other. Lady Catherine was leaving the study with Mr. Huxley in her wake.
“Good afternoon, Aunt,” Fitzwilliam said amiably.