The Colonel's Spinster - Audrey Harrison Page 0,24

the fire, Cousin. I shan’t be letting you get chilled as I did in the garden.”

Prudence did as she was bid. She had taken off her bonnet and gloves, welcoming the warmth of the fire. “We should make haste to return, for the night will close in on us.”

“It will, but I shall hire us a coach. I should have thought it through before we set out. It will be too chilly, returning in the gig. I will collect it tomorrow.”

“I hope you travel early. I would not wish Anne to miss her morning trip out.”

“You’re a hard task master. I am only usually below stairs so early at Rosings because of the early hours Aunt Catherine keeps. You’d have me rising with the lark!”

“It is character building. Where I come from, the knocker upper would make sure you rose at the appointed time.”

“Even the name sends me into shudders,” Fitzwilliam responded.

“You poor, spoilt boy,” Prudence laughed. “I would like to see you work in a mill for a week. You’d be eaten alive.”

“No doubt.” Fitzwilliam smiled. “Although you’ve survived and are still a genteel lady.” There was so much about Prudence that didn’t quite add up in Fitzwilliam’s mind.

“I have had advantages that most workers do not have,” Prudence admitted.

“One is the quality of your clothes. You always look exquisite,” Fitzwilliam said.

Blushing, Prudence smiled. “My mother had good taste and only went to the finest people when she needed clothing. I suppose it was what she’d been used to, and Papa always liked her looking her best. He has just transferred that wish onto me, so I benefit. There are some talented seamstresses in Manchester. Not everyone dresses in sackcloth.”

“I would never have supposed it for a moment,” Fitzwilliam defended himself.

“Aunt Catherine does.”

“Thankfully, Aunt Catherine’s views are about as far away from mine as is possible. I shall secure a carriage before we sit down to eat.”

When Fitzwilliam left the room, Prudence cursed herself silently. She’d had the perfect opportunity to reveal herself to him. Why hadn’t she? There was no need to tell him everything, just enough for him to realise that she had no need to take up a post her aunt had threatened to find for her. Instead, she’d taken the cowardly way out. Again.

Fitzwilliam soon came back, and the banter continued between the pair. When they were leaving the inn, Fitzwilliam offered his arm and helped Prudence into the carriage. He accepted two hot bricks and placed them at her feet.

“I insist you have one of these,” Prudence said, using her booted foot to push one of the bricks towards Fitzwilliam. “I am not the type of female who will make others suffer whilst she sits in comfort.”

“Thank you, but I don’t know how you will deal with the fact that there’s only one blanket to cover your knees,” Fitzwilliam smiled at her.

“In that case, sit next to me, and we will share,” Prudence said, wriggling sideways so there was room enough for him to join her on the seat.

Fitzwilliam didn’t need to be asked twice. He moved seats and let Prudence fix the blanket across both their laps.

“There. We shall both be comfortable, and I won’t feel guilty,” Prudence said with a smile.

“I would be more comfortable if I did this,” Fitzwilliam said, reaching out for her hand and bringing it to his lips.

Prudence eyed him. “And what have I done to warrant such a gesture?”

“Oh, you’ve been funny, beautiful, and lovely ever since my arrival at Rosings,” Fitzwilliam admitted.

“Thank you, but I have to suggest your eyes are faulty and you are easily pleased.”

Laughing, Fitzwilliam kissed her hand again. “You are a delight.” The mood suddenly changed. It was as if they were back in the stable yard, but this time there was no one else around.

“If you are going to kiss me, Fitzwilliam, please do it now,” Prudence said. “I would hate a sudden unexpected stop of the carriage to prevent it.”

With a chuckle, Fitzwilliam pulled her to him, and not a moment too soon in both their opinions, kissed her soundly.

Her bonnet and his stove top hat landed on the floor. Arms wrapped around waists and necks, and Prudence was pulled onto Fitzwilliam’s lap. Grabbing handfuls of his hair, she revelled in the feel of it, something she’d been wishing to do for days.

Fitzwilliam moaned at Prudence’s actions but forced himself to pull away slightly. Cupping her face in his hands, he smiled into eyes that were wide and unfocused.

“I’ve wanted