The Colonel's Spinster - Audrey Harrison Page 0,19

know it is futile. But I do so like him. He is the only man who doesn’t frighten me, apart from Fitzwilliam of course. But he is different.”

“Your mother would never consider a marriage between you and Fitzwilliam? It surprises me somewhat that she is not encouraging a match between you two. She wanted you to marry Cousin Darcy after all,” Prudence couldn’t resist saying, although depending on the answer, she could be torturing herself even further than she had since she had met Miss Goode.

“Oh, no! Fitzwilliam is not important enough for mother to give her approval. I’m relieved to say that I would wish a marriage to him as little as one to Darcy, but for different reasons,” Anne said.

“You seem to be on easy terms with Fitzwilliam.”

“We are, but he would find life very dull with me. I enjoy the quiet life. Fitzwilliam is a man who is always doing something. I pity him when he is here, for he is like a caged animal,” Anne revealed.

“I suppose it comes down to his military career.”

“Possibly. He needs an active life with someone who can challenge him. For, although he is the second son, he’s so charming he is very often spoiled and fussed over.”

“And does he realise this is how you see him?”

“No. As you say, I have claws, but they are well-hidden,” Anne grinned at Prudence.

“Anne, you are definitely my favourite family member,” Prudence responded, pushing aside her inner voice, which accused her of lying as she uttered the words, for that title belonged to a cousin with laughing green eyes and an easy smile.

*

Anne felt too tired to venture out of doors the morning after the assembly, so Prudence rode out instead of using the gig.

Galloping over the fields belonging to the Rosings estate, she let her hat fall onto her back and her hair stream behind her in a tangle of knotted curls. Windswept and exuberant, she brought the horse to a stop and turned it to look back over the hill she had ridden over.

Seeing a rider following her, she smiled. He looked very well on a horse, as if he’d been born to it, which he probably had.

She waited until he caught up, his ready smile on his lips.

“Cousin! I thought I would never catch you,” Fitzwilliam admitted.

“I had an urge to see the view.”

Turning reluctantly to look behind him, Fitzwilliam moved until he was close to Prudence. “Looking at you is preferable even to the rolling hills of Kent.”

“Are we flirting again?” Prudence asked.

“When you look so fine, it is inevitable,” Fitzwilliam answered.

“I look like the hoyden my aunt accused me of being and grieve the brushing of my tangled locks that I shall have to endure to make myself presentable for visits later today.”

An image of brushing her hair for her made Fitzwilliam turn away from Prudence for a moment whilst he gathered himself. He didn’t know what was happening to him with regards to his feelings towards her. It was bad enough that he sought out her company at every possible opportunity, but now he was imagining instances that he’d never imagined with anyone else he had ever met. It was disturbing.

When his emotions were under control once more, he turned to look at Prudence. He smiled wistfully. She looked beautiful. Windswept, with colour in her cheeks and an exquisitely fitted riding habit made her look like just the type of woman he could feel proud to have at his side.

His jaw clenched. He was being a fool. He couldn’t afford to let her get under his skin. He had to marry for money. A pity it seemed a very cold way of looking at wedded bliss when he was so near Prudence. That was also a new sensation. He’d never felt so bereft at being unable to choose his own bride as he had these last few days.

“You seem troubled, Cousin,” Prudence said, having watched Fitzwilliam with interest.

“I am just concerned that it will be weeks before we will dance again. That is if we can persuade Aunt Catherine to indulge us a second time.”

“Oh, I think she enjoyed the venture overall,” Prudence said. “Everyone was suitably deferential towards her, and those beneath her touch did not approach her at all, showing their good sense.”

“You really have our aunt worked out, don’t you? You are obviously a discerning person.”

“She is not a complex character,” Prudence shrugged. “I admit she can be frustrating, but as I am hardly likely