The Colonel's Spinster - Audrey Harrison Page 0,20

to be spending much time with her over the years, her idiosyncrasies will not cause me any loss of sleep.”

“Are you thinking of leaving us already?” Fitzwilliam asked in sudden panic.

“No. But I cannot remain here forever. I have never been so idle in my life.”

“Nor I,” Fitzwilliam admitted. “But I am finding that I am enjoying my time on this visit. I was only to come for a week in the first instance, but I have been delaying my departure.”

Prudence tried to control her elation at the words. It could be because he was interested in Miss Goode, she cursed herself. How foolish would she seem if that were the case? Her thoughts did not stop her hoping that it was herself who was delaying his departure.

“If that is so, I think we should take every opportunity to find out who is best on horseback,” she said.

“You do know I spent months travelling on my horse through Spain, Portugal, and France, don’t you?” Fitzwilliam answered with his winning grin.

“In that case, a head start is not unreasonable,” Prudence said, digging her horse with her heels and setting off at a gallop. She heard Fitzwilliam’s laugh behind her but didn’t turn. Hunkering down over the neck of her horse, she urged him on.

Fitzwilliam followed, and although he caught up, Prudence was no novice at horse riding. She was challenging his abilities even though he was confident of winning in the end. Instead he chose to lull her into a false sense of security.

Racing towards the house, Fitzwilliam decided it was time to show his prowess. Urging his steed for a final push, he began to overtake Prudence.

Laughing at the curse she aimed in his direction, he continued to make progress, clattering along the gravel path and around the corner into the stable yard. Coming to an abrupt halt, he leapt from his horse, landing nimbly and stood, arms folded, leaning on the door post of the stable building.

Prudence was moments behind him, and bringing her horse to a stop, she couldn’t contain her laughter. “You cad! That’s not very gentlemanly of you!” She accepted his help in dismounting and slid into his arms as he lifted her from her mount.

“You laid the rules down by cheating at the start,” Fitzwilliam smiled down at her, keeping his grasp around her waist.

Prudence hit his shoulder with her hastily removed gloves. “It’s only a rogue who would point out that a lady tried to gain the upper hand, for all the good it did me.”

“Never put yourself up against a cavalry officer in a horse race. You made the fatal error of underestimating your rival.”

“Lesson learned, believe me!”

There was a pause between them, as if each were waiting for the other to do or say something. Fitzwilliam moved his head slightly, lowering it towards Prudence, but then a groom began to move her horse, and the pair, realising they were in a busy stable yard, pulled themselves apart.

“I had better get inside and make myself decent,” Prudence said quietly.

“I will make sure the horses are tended to before I come in.”

“Thank you.”

Prudence stepped away, but Fitzwilliam grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. “You still look beautiful.”

Eyes widening at his actions as much as his words, Prudence flushed. Unable to think of a suitable retort, she gave a swift curtsy and walked away towards the house and her chamber.

Fitzwilliam watched her retreat, not knowing whether he should chase after her to kiss her, apologise for his rakish behaviour, or beg for her hand in marriage. He shook himself. What was he thinking? Marriage? He had never wanted to marry anyone he’d ever met, yet here he was considering marrying Prudence?

Striding into the stable, he shrugged his shoulders. He had allowed himself to have his head turned by a pretty face. That was all. He would soon come to his senses. He needed to marry for money.

She was utterly charming though. Funny and challenging. And sweet.

Oh, dear Lord!

*

Prudence took her time making herself presentable. She hadn’t brought a maid with her, and Lady Catherine hadn’t assigned anyone to attend her, just letting one of the housemaids assist her when necessary. Thankfully, for the assembly, Anne had insisted her own ladies’ maid should help them both.

She looked ruefully at her reflection in the looking glass. She was playing with fire; she knew that. Papa had insisted she go without announcing the reality of her home situation. He wanted her to receive a genuine