The Colonel's Spinster - Audrey Harrison Page 0,13

little thing because she was sickly as a child. Aunt Catherine seizes on the thing that she can repine over again and again and use to her advantage. It isn’t a becoming trait,” Fitzwilliam said.

“No.”

“But you are like Darcy’s mother. And yes, that means I consider you very pretty.”

Prudence flushed a little, but laughed it off. “As I have said before, I know exactly where I stand with regard to looks. I am all angles and sharpness.”

Fitzwilliam swung around and caught hold of Prudence’s hands. When she was facing him, warily regarding him, he released her. Using his fingertips, he traced the contours of her face. “You have laughing eyes that sparkle beautifully. Your cheekbones are high and accentuate your slim features. Your lips are always ready to smile; their curve upwards is testament to that. Yes, you are very pretty.”

Having stilled at the most intimate exploration of her face, Prudence’s eyes had widened as she watched Fitzwilliam’s serious expression as he described her. Swallowing at their closeness and the feelings the experience caused, she tried to think of a retort that would turn the situation into a funny one. Unfortunately, her brain stopped working, and she was finding it difficult to speak.

Fitzwilliam seemed to gather himself when his fingers reached the curve of her chin. Tenderly smiling at her, he reached over and kissed her nose. “You are beautiful. Never forget that.”

Turning, he walked out of the room, silently cursing the fact that he had not grabbed her and kissed her fully and wondering how the devil he was going to figure out a way to avoid contact with her. He was being affected like he had never been affected by anyone before. It was extremely worrying and irresistible at the same time.

*

The following morning Prudence settled into the wing-backed chair, a cushion tucked under her arm, propping up the book she was reading. Her feet were curled underneath her, her satin slippers on the carpet.

She looked up quickly as the door opened, ready to alter her stance if needed, but relaxed when she saw Fitzwilliam enter the room.

“Am I disturbing you?” Fitzwilliam asked as he closed the door behind him.

“Not at all. I should say I am reading something educational, but I am not. Anne told me that I must read this novel. Miss Goode recommended it to her, and she contrived to have it delivered to the house without Aunt Catherine finding out,” she explained.

Fitzwilliam laughed. “I’m still surprised that I am seeing a whole other side to Anne than what I have been used to. She is becoming quite rebellious.”

“In her own quiet way. I think it’s since she no longer has the threat of marrying Cousin Darcy.”

“I think it is more to do with a certain rebel from Manchester.” Fitzwilliam flicked out the tails of his frock coat and sat on the chair opposite Prudence.

“I’m not in the slightest bit rebellious,” Prudence laughed.

“I’m afraid I cannot believe such an outrageous lie.”

“You do me a great disservice,” Prudence scolded. “I shall have you know that I was brought up every bit the polite miss.”

“Of course you were. A pity your teacher did not realise there was a streak of mischief underneath that polite façade.”

“Yes. Papa always hoped it would be something my governess could overcome, but I was a lost cause.”

Fitzwilliam frowned slightly. She’d had a governess. That was something he hadn’t expected to hear, and he wished to question her further. Only his reluctance to begin to sound like his aunt prevented him from asking other questions.

He saw Prudence watching him and suspected she was aware of his inner thoughts. He flushed a little but smiled at her. “I’m interested to hear about Manchester and where you live.”

“I would imagine Manchester is like no place you have visited.”

“I spend the season in London, which is a larger city,” Fitzwilliam pointed out.

“But do you spend your time in the gardens and refined houses, or do you explore the areas where the business is carried out? Where the real work takes place?” The questions were asked with a laugh, for she was fully aware of what his answer would be.

“I have not had a completely privileged lifestyle,” Fitzwilliam answered. His tone was defensive.

“I know,” Prudence said, immediately contrite. “We had some soldiers returning to our area. Their injuries are terrible, and some are reduced to begging because they cannot work. It is pitiful to see.”

“They should be helped. They gave up their livelihoods to protect this country,