The Colonel's Spinster - Audrey Harrison Page 0,35

was on the stage, surrounded by people, and longing to reach home.

*

Days of travel and the strain of being alert to everything going on around her and the constant worry of falling prey to anyone willing to take advantage of a lone female had resulted in Prudence arriving home with a severe headache and a churning stomach.

On the way to her aunt, a maid had travelled with her in her father’s carriage until Lady Catherine’s carriage had collected her from Westerham. Prudence now realised that it was because her aunt had presumed she would be travelling on the stage. On leaving, she had not wished to wait until her father’s carriage could be sent, as there had been weeks left of the planned visit, hence she’d taken the stage.

Tipping the coachmen well had ensured they had looked out for the quiet young lady who was travelling such a distance with them. When she was handed to a different coach, a quiet word in the driver’s ear by the one she was leaving ensured that her unobtrusive protection continued. It helped a little.

Arriving in Manchester, she breathed a sigh of relief. She was once more in familiar territory. Hiring a hack, she sent her portmanteau to be delivered home.

Her father would be working in one of his mills, and she wanted the busy environment to take off some of the focus her early arrival would cause. She set-off walking in the direction of Bamber mills.

Chapter 12

Mr. Bamber looked up from his large desk at the familiar knock on the window of the office door.

“Prudence? What the devil are you doing here? What’s wrong?” Mr. Bamber asked, immediately rising from his seat to greet his daughter.

“Hello, Papa,” Prudence smiled. “I found I missed you too much. It is too quiet for me in the country.”

“Nonsense! What’s the real reason you have returned? Not that I am displeased to see you. It fair warms my heart to have you back home. The place has been like a graveyard without you buzzing about the house,” Mr. Bamber said.

“I am glad to hear I was missed,” Prudence said, kissing her father’s cheek. “More than once I longed to have your counsel, I can tell you.”

“Not up to snuff, were they?” Mr. Bamber asked gently.

“A couple of them were,” Prudence admitted. “But the others made some spectacular assumptions.”

“Ah, I feared as much, but I hoped it would not be so. Your mama was the best out of the bunch of them. Never mind. You are home now, and that is something I am thankful for,” Mr. Bamber said.

“I am equally so,” Prudence said. “Now how can I be of use?”

“You should go home and rest.”

“I’m no fine lady who needs to be pampered. I’m much happier when I’m useful.”

“You will do for me, lass. You will do for me!”

*

When the evening gloom had settled across the chimneys and roof tops of Manchester, Prudence travelled with her father back to their home. It was on the outskirts of the city, a place called Stretford. An agricultural and hand-weaving region, which many of the mill owners had moved into because of its position between the River Mersey and the River Irwell. The plain seemed to protect its residents from the smoke and smog created by Manchester city centre, making it even more attractive to those able to escape the unhealthy environment.

Prudence smiled as she stepped out of the carriage when it came to a stop outside the large stone doorway. The butler was there to welcome them home.

“Miss Bamber, it is a pleasure to see you home,” the butler, Walsh, said.

“It is good to be here,” Prudence answered. She glanced upwards at the house that had been her home as far back as she could remember. It was not as grand as Rosings, but it was a large house, and every brick was precious to her.

Walking into her chamber, she was reminded that she hadn’t bathed in days and was extremely travel weary. Her maid, Bessie, was there to greet her; everything had been put away, and a bath was being drawn. Theirs was one of the more modern houses with a separate room for bathing and ablutions.

“Oh, it is a relief to be home, Bessie,” Prudence said as she was helped to undress. “The houses of my family might be grand but my goodness they are cold places! And as for using the pot under the bed, or the tin bath, I can tell you, they can