Sweet Rogue of Mine (The Survivors #9) - Shana Galen Page 0,84

Pru asked, her voice softer than it had been. That was when he heard the hurt in her voice, and the ache that lanced through him, knowing he’d caused her pain, almost left him breathless. He wanted to ease that pain, soothe it away, atone for it.

“Terribly,” he said, and it was true. He hadn’t let himself feel how much he had ached for her until this moment when she was at his side again. He couldn’t allow himself to feel it because the anguish would have been too much. How was he ever to let her go again?

She seemed to make the decision for him, pulling away from him. “Here is the carriage,” she said. He could make out the large form of it and was glad to climb inside so as to be somewhat hidden from the curiosity of the village.

The carriage began to move and Pru made a sound of pleasure. “I’ve only been in a carriage a few times in my life,” she said. “Most of those were hackneys. None as lovely as this.”

Nash had a vague memory of the coach. It was nothing special, but then he’d grown up as the son of an earl and took carriages for granted, he supposed.

“Now that it is back in good working order, we’ll have to make sure to send it for you,” Rowden said.

“Thank you.”

Nash could hear the rejection in the tone of her voice. There was a but coming, and Nash didn’t want to hear it.

“But Mr. Pope and I have finished with our lessons in night writing. He knows the chart now and just needs to practice, and he doesn’t need me looking over his shoulder.”

Nash would have argued he did need her looking over his shoulder. And at his side. And in his arms. Instead, he said, “I need you to help with the autumn festival.”

“Me? I’ve never been to the autumn festival. I have no idea what the village expects. Mrs. Blimkin can be of much more service than I.”

“We have promised to fetch her from the vicarage,” Rowden said. “We need all the assistance we can muster. Ah, here we are.”

The coach slowed, and Rowden opened the carriage door before the servants could jump down and do so. He closed it behind him, quite purposefully leaving Nash and Pru alone.

“Excuse me,” she said, moving toward the door.

Nash reached out and groped until he managed to grasp her wrist. “Wait.”

He could feel her tense, could feel her desire to escape him. But she didn’t move, didn’t pull away. That must mean she still felt something for him. Didn’t it?

“Walk with me,” he said on a whim. He was no great walker, but it seemed the only way to be alone with her and to ensure she wouldn’t make an excuse and stay behind in the vicarage.

“Nash, I—”

“We have promised Mrs. Blimkin a ride in the carriage. Rowden can escort her, and you and I can walk to Wentmore.”

She sighed, and he knew she was thinking of how to refuse.

“It’s a perfect day for a walk,” he said. “The breeze in your hair. The sun on your shoulders. We might even come across fairies on our way.”

She gave a quick laugh. “The fairies won’t be out until dusk.”

“Oh. You see, I have much to learn.” He squeezed her wrist lightly. “Please, Pru.”

If she rejected him now, he would not ask again. He was practically begging, and while he did not have much pride left, he had some honor. And he would never force a lady to do something she did not want to do. He would not force her to be with him, if she didn’t want him.

“Very well. We will walk there, and by the time we arrive, Mrs. Blimkin will be ready to return. You’ll send us back in the carriage?”

“Of course.”

The carriage door opened, and Nash released Pru’s wrist.

“I have Mrs. Blimkin,” Rowden said. “She’s bringing half the vicarage kitchen.”

“I suppose you will need more room then,” Pru said. “It’s a lovely day. Mr. Pope and I can walk.”

“Oh, but there’s plenty of room in the—” Mrs. Blimkin began.

“Go ahead then,” Rowden interrupted. “I will have to mind my manners, alone with my favorite cook in the world.”

“Oh, you!”

Nash could all but hear the blush in Mrs. Blimkin’s cheeks. He climbed out after Pru and stood beside her as the coach departed. “Shall we?” he asked.

“Yes. I must admit, it is a glorious day.” She took his arm, and though he