The Colonel's Spinster - Audrey Harrison Page 0,15

met.”

Fitzwilliam’s words increased Prudence’s guilt, but she tried to push it aside. She would tell him of her situation soon. She wanted to be honest with him more than anything, but she was becoming more worried about the reaction her words would cause. There should have been truthfulness from the start. He was suspicious of her. She could see that, and needing to be frank with him was becoming more and more important to her.

They strolled about the gardens, thoroughly enjoying each other’s company, until Fitzwilliam caught Prudence shivering.

“Oh, blast it! You are cold! Why didn’t you say?” he asked in some consternation, immediately shrugging himself out of his frock coat.

“Do not concern yourself. It is only now that I’ve started to feel a chill. I have been enjoying myself too much to return to the house before.”

Fitzwilliam wrapped his frock coat around Prudence’s shoulders. “Here. Take this. I too have been enjoying myself, but I insist we return. I’d be mortified if you caught a chill.”

Prudence relished the feel of the still warm coat. It felt delightful to be encompassed within the fine material. She wondered if it was the quality of the coat or the fact that it was his that made her feel quite heated as they returned to the house.

Entering the hallway, both let out a silent groan when they were faced with Lady Catherine, coming down the stairs.

Their aunt paused mid-step. “What is this?” she demanded staring at Prudence wrapped in Fitzwilliam’s clothing.

“We have been for a walk and realised belatedly it was becoming cold,” Fitzwilliam explained, accepting his frock coat from Prudence, who had immediately relinquished it on seeing Lady Catherine.

“You have been outside without bonnet, gloves, or spencer?” Lady Catherine asked Prudence.

“It was a spur of the moment decision,” Prudence admitted.

“It was my fault, Aunt. I persuaded my cousin to leave what she was doing and go into the garden through one of the windows. I did not give her the opportunity to retrieve her outerwear. I should have done so, and I apologise for it,” Fitzwilliam said, with a slight bow of his head towards Prudence.

“I enjoyed the excursion,” Prudence admitted with a smile.

Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes at her niece. “That is conduct that is not becoming of a relative of mine.”

“I am sorry, Aunt,” Prudence said demurely.

“It was my doing entirely,” Fitzwilliam interjected.

“It is Prudence’s responsibility to know what she should and should not do. How can she hope to improve herself if she continues to behave like a hoyden?”

“Aunt! For goodness sake! We went into the garden!” Fitzwilliam snapped, probably for the first time, at his aunt.

“It is easy for you to say that, but she must remember her place. It is far too easy to be condemned for one’s actions. My connections to her won’t always protect her,” Lady Catherine said.

“Oh, dear Lord!” Fitzwilliam said.

“It does not matter, Cousin,” Prudence said quietly. “Aunt, please forgive my lapse of judgement. It will not happen again.”

“I am glad to hear it. Now I suggest you go into the library and spend a half hour on reading a sermon. I can choose one for you if you like.”

“No. Thank you. I can choose a suitable sermon myself,” Prudence said quickly. “And remove the evidence of my novel,” she whispered to Fitzwilliam as she passed him on the way to the library.

Hearing a choke caused by her words, Prudence tried to suppress the smile on her lips, but by the glare she received from her aunt, she wasn’t convinced she’d achieved it.

Chapter 5

The evening of the assembly soon came around, and although Lady Catherine had hinted at cancelling the trip a few times over the passing days, Fitzwilliam had always countered that he would still accompany Prudence, using Mrs. Collins as a chaperone. As Lady Catherine was loath to be excluded from any activity and Fitzwilliam’s threat hung over her head, there was never any real danger of the trip not going ahead.

Anne and Prudence entered the drawing room together. Fitzwilliam was standing at the fireplace and turned to greet the ladies. He faltered at the sight of them framed in the doorway.

Dressed in a pale pink satin with organza overlay and decorated with tiny embroidered flowers, Anne looked almost ethereal with her pale complexion and slight frame. Her brown locks had been fixed in a softer style than she normally wore, curls framing her face. Her colour was heightened, and she smiled shyly at her cousin.

“Anne, you look beautiful,” Fitzwilliam said,