A Prudent Match (7 page)

Before anxiety could rise too high in her chest, she found his lips on hers. It was not the first time she had been kissed, of course. Allen had kissed her a number of times, and very sweetly, too. Ledbetter's kiss was not sweet at all. His arms came around her to pull her firmly against him and his mouth covered hers in a demanding sort of way, as though he expected something from her. The tentative brush of her lips had him pulling back and rolling his eyes in disgust.

“I'm not your mama,” he told her. “That's the kind of kiss you might give her, or a sister who was going away to school. I'm your husband. Don't you know the difference?”

“No,” she said frankly. “What other kind of kiss is there?”

“I'll demonstrate for you sometime,” he assured her, setting her carefully aside. “Go and get ready for bed, my dear. I'll join you in half an hour.”

“In my room?”

“Yes, in your room.” He lifted her chin again and made her meet his gaze. “Remember what I've promised. There is not the slightest need for you to be frightened.”

“Thank you.”

* * * *

When she had left the room, Ledbetter sighed and retrieved his brandy glass from the side table. With a mocking smile he lifted it heavenward. “To you, Porlonsby,” he muttered. “Quite the gentleman you must have been. I suppose I look quite crass in comparison.” He took a quick gulp of the rich amber liquid and returned the glass to the table.

For some time he stood staring into the fire, a slight frown lowering his brows. Then he absently kicked a log further onto the fire, shrugged, and headed for his room.

* * * *

Despite his promise, Prudence was nervous. She lay stiffly in her new bed, her most modest nightdress enveloping every inch of flesh from her chin to her ankles. When she had released the pins from her hair, it had sprung in all directions and she had ruthlessly brushed it into something like submission. But with her head on the pillow she could tell that her hair had fanned out around her head like a misbegotten halo. Ledbetter would think she looked like a witch.

She had left a candle burning, as on the previous night. Its flame wavered in the slight breeze that wafted through the room, casting long shadows on the walls and ceiling. Prudence had left the velvet hangings open on one side, where Ledbetter could climb into the bed. She herself had rolled as far as possible to the other side and waited there with her lip caught between her teeth.

There was a soft knock on her door, and she forced herself to say, “Come in.” Ledbetter entered, in a royal blue dressing gown that sat easily on his broad shoulders. He set his candle down beside hers, and in the double light regarded her for a long moment. “You'll fall out of bed if you get any farther over,” he said dryly before snuffing both candles.

In the darkness Prudence saw him start to remove the dressing gown and she turned her gaze away, remembering what he had said about sleeping without clothes. She had taken pains to warm his side of the bed with a warming pan and hoped it had not cooled off before he arrived. Now she felt the mattress shift as he positioned himself on his side of the bed.

Hoping to sound perfectly normal, she said a cheerful goodnight. His rumble of quiet laughter slightly shook the bed. “My dear girl, we're not ready to go to sleep yet,” he said.

“We aren't?”

“No, we're going to talk for a few minutes. Give me you hand.”

“My hand?”

“Yes, dear. I'm going to hold your hand while we talk.”

“Why?”  She could tell when he reached a hand across toward her and she timidly placed hers in it.

“Because we need to have some physical contact.” He twined his fingers with hers and then began to rub his thumb against her skin. “Tell me why your sister Lizzie would have put whitewash in my shaving soap.”

The question startled a laugh out of her. “Did she? Naughty Lizzie. Did you catch her doing it?”

“Oh, no. But there is no one else who could possibly have been responsible, and I saw her studying my face very carefully when I appeared for the marriage service.”

“She must have been disappointed that you weren't white as a sheep.” Prudence smiled in the dark at the picture which formed in her mind. Then a thought distracted her. “Did you tell anyone?”

“No, of course not. I had no wish to get her in trouble. But I was a little concerned that it might mean she had taken me in dislike.”

“I don't think so.” Prudence remembered Lizzie's fears about the marriage, but they hadn't really centered on Ledbetter. “She just can't resist playing pranks now and then. And I don't think she was happy that I was leaving home.”

“No, I don't think she was.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it before returning it to the no-man's-land between them. “I told her she might visit us sometime.”

Prudence was very aware that her arm had brushed along his bare chest when he lifted her hand to kiss it. This reminder that his body was naked made her stiffen slightly. “That was kind of you.”

“Not particularly. She was offended that I didn't set a specific date.”

“Poor Lizzie. She doesn't feel she has anything in common with my other two sisters, and indeed I cannot blame her.”

“Hmm. No, you are very different from Elinor and Gladys. I received the impression neither of them share your shyness about your body.”

Prudence felt her face flush in the dark. “Truly I am very sorry for it, Ledbetter.”

“Don't apologize. I was merely remarking on the difference.”

Prudence felt him shift on the bed at the same time he drew her hands closer to him. “Come, you're tired,” he said. “Give me a kiss and I'll let you go to sleep.”

His face was somehow very close to hers. Prudence leaned toward him and touched her lips briefly to his. “Again,” he said, “for a little longer.”

So she pressed her lips to his and allowed them to stay that way for a few moments. “Now let me show you,” he suggested.

When his lips met hers, they were firm and had an urgency about them. They did not remain still, but seemed to seek out the corners and the fullness of her lower lip. And he wandered farther afield as well, nibbling at her chin and her nose and her closed eyes. By the time they returned to her mouth, Prudence was able to respond a bit more enthusiastically. Ledbetter at length drew back and said, “Yes, better. Good night, my dear. I hope you'll sleep well.”

Relief flooded her. “I'm sure I shall. Good night, Ledbetter.”

“Come, Prudence. It’s time you called me by my given name.”

“Yes, of course, . . . William. I . . . I'm grateful for your patience.”

“Just remember that I don't possess an inexhaustible supply.”

“I will.”

* * * *

Prudence awoke in the morning to the sound of the draperies being pushed aside on their rod. Sunlight poured into the room, engulfing her even on the far side of the large bed. For a moment she thought is must be Ledbetter who had tossed them open, but a girl's voice spoke from behind the bed.

“His lordship asked me to bring your tea, Lady Ledbetter. Shall I put it on the dressing table?”

“Yes, thank you. Can you tell me what time it is?”

“Gone nine, milady. Shall I bring you some hot water?”

“Nine!” Prudence tossed back the covers and swung her feet to the floor. She could see the girl now, a young fresh-faced child who was regarding her with awe. “Yes, I would appreciate some hot water. I'm afraid I've forgotten you name.”

“Betsy, ma'am.” The child dropped a curtsy. “Mrs. Collins said I was to help you until your own maid came.”

My own maid, Prudence thought. Ledbetter had no doubt already explained her impulsive act to the housekeeper. Well, what was done was done. And she didn't regret her action, just wondered whether it would have been wiser to wait until she'd gotten to Salston to choose someone. Ah, well.

By the time Betsy returned with the pitcher of hot water, Prudence was standing at the dressing table sipping at the hot tea. And wondering what the routine at Salston was. Now
there
was something she could have discussed with Ledbetter, a subject of some import, but she very much doubted Ledbetter's patience ran to describing household matters. She would spend a few hours with Mrs. Collins instead, which would no doubt serve all of them a great deal better.

Prudence was accustomed to having an abigail assist in her dressing, but only with the occasional external touches. Four sisters sharing an abigail had not led her to depend on someone to help her in and out of her nightdress and her undergarments. And indeed her shyness extended to
anyone
seeing her unclothed, not just her new husband. So she asked Betsy to come back in quarter of an hour, when she would be ready for assistance with the impossible row of buttons on the back of the dress she planned to wear that day.

Before the quarter hour had expired, there was a tap on the door accompanied by Ledbetter's voice asking if it would be convenient for her to see him. Prudence's first impulse was to say “No,” but as she had already stepped into her round gown, she offered a reluctant, “If you will wait but a moment.”

Quickly shrugging her arms through the sleeves, she adjusted the gown so that it covered her sufficiently before allowing her husband into the room.

“I trust you didn't mind my having tea sent up,” he said as he strolled into the room. He was dressed in country garb, buckskin breeches and top boots, with a handsome brown riding jacket. “I did want to speak with you before I rode out.”

“Of course. I had no intention of sleeping so late. At home I'm up much earlier.”

“Yes, so you've said.” His gaze drifted from her face to the mirror behind her, and he smiled. “Turn around. I'll do you up.”

“That's not at
all
necessary,” she protested, flushing. “Betsy will be back in just a few minutes.”

“Turn around.”

Prudence did as she was bid.

His hands came to rest on her shoulders, where they remained as he regarded the two of them in the mirror. “I hadn't realized how tall you were, Prudence,” he remarked. “And in your stocking feet, too.”

Prudence looked with chagrin at the stockings she had already pulled on. They were not new ones by any means. In fact she could see that the right one had been mended. There had seemed so many more important things to be taken care of in the short time she'd had before her wedding, that she'd ended up having to bring all the stockings she had owned for the last few years. Trust Ledbetter to notice.

For he had noticed. She could see that little quiver at the corner of his mouth, and the way his eyes almost teased her. Well, she would buy new stockings the first time they visited the village shops and in the meantime she would give any mended stockings to Betsy for a charity drive.

“If you would just do up my gown,” she suggested with some asperity.

“Certainly, my dear.” His fingers on the buttons were nimble and he was almost finished when Betsy arrived to assist his wife. The little maid looked surprised to see him there. She curtsied and offered to come back later but Prudence firmly stated that she was ready for Betsy's help with her hair.

Ledbetter reached up to place a hand on either side of Prudence's head, his fingers weaving into her thick auburn tresses. “You know, I'm of a mind to ask you to leave your hair down, Prudence. It's very becoming when it's loose, don't you think, Betsy?”

“Oh, yes, my lord. Lady Ledbetter looked ever so much like my school mistress yesterday with it all pulled back and pinned so tight.”

“There,” he said, smiling at her in the glass. “You don't wish to look like a school mistress, do you, Prudence?”

“Perhaps I would prefer that to looking like a green girl with my hair springing about with a mind of its own. Pinning it is the only way to gain some control over it.”

“I like it loose.” Ledbetter ran his fingers through her heavy mane of hair, making her almost shiver. “Controlling it seems such a shame. Would you, just for today, indulge me in this?”

Prudence sighed. “It is very odd of you. I shall present quite a slovenly appearance to your staff, sir.” When he continued to regard her with raised brows, she said, “Oh, very well, if it is what you wish.”

“Thank you, my dear.” To her astonishment, and Betsy's delight, he placed a kiss on her nape. “I'm afraid I must be off now. Look for me in the early afternoon and we will make a visit to Sir Geoffrey Manning and his good lady to apprise them of my marriage. They are our closest neighbors and he is a lifelong friend of mine.”

“I shall look forward to it,” she said, though nothing could have been further from the truth. She did not feel ready to make the acquaintance of so old a friend of his, let alone appear before Lady Manning with her wild hair undone. She would wear a hat, she decided, which would sufficiently curb its excesses. Ledbetter could not complain of that. And, honestly, if he intended to dictate to her on matters of appearance, he would do well to think again.

When the baron had closed the door behind himself, Prudence seated herself at the dressing table and allowed Betsy to brush the tangles from her hair. With each stroke her hair seemed to stand out more from her head until it formed an amber nimbus. “You see,” she complained. “It is absolutely unmanageable this way.”

“But, my lady,” Betsy protested, “it's the most beautiful hair I've ever seen!”

Startled, Prudence regarded herself dispassionately in the mirror. All her life she'd been used to thinking her hair a trial. From the age of twelve she had rigorously tortured it into obedience in a series of braids or twists which she pinned securely to her head. What she saw now was that her hair was very much like her sister Lizzie's, which she had always admired, in a girl that age. But to allow her own hair this wild freedom and she a woman of two and twenty! Surely that must be unacceptable.

“Well, for today,” she agreed, a frown settling on her brow. “But not to the Mannings. I will not have Sir Geoffrey and Lady Manning thinking me a heathen!”

Chapter Seven

Ledbetter firmly put his wife from his mind after he left her room. He had a great deal to take care of on his first day back at Salston. Already his estate manager had sent a list of items which he felt must be personally addressed by the baron. Then there were the two very specific matters that Ledbetter alone knew of. Now that he had sufficient funds, the sooner he put those demands behind him, the better.