Free Compromising Prudence by Marguerite Butler

Prudence. If you want my advice…”
    “She doesn’t,” Charles said.
    “Hush, you! If you want my advice, make him take you abroad. Do him a world of good. Never goes anywhere except the fields of Kent. It’s all hedge sparrow this and songbird thrush that.”
    “The estate keeps me busy,” Charles said stiffly.
    “Tosh! At least take the woman on a trip.”
    “Brighton?” Pru had always longed to go there, but Papa had insisted on Bath and a turn around the Pump Room with Aunt Hetty was not her idea of summer fun.
    “Why Brighton?” Charles asked.
    “We always went to Bath,” Pru said with a shrug. “Brighton sounds exciting.”
    “Bath? Dowagers and card assemblies!” Graham shuddered. “Good Lord! Take the woman to Scotland.”
    Charles caught Pru’s eye and smiled, that sweet smile that made her think of a young boy. “Scotland. Do you know, I’ve always meant to go there? I just might.”
    “Oh, yes please!” Pru clapped her hands. “Oh, this is famous! I suppose the trip will have to be after the Season.”
    Charles shifted in his chair. “Spring is devilish hard to get away. Nesting season, you know.”
    “Of course. I shall want time to settle in any way. And a trip should be properly planned. Scotland.”
    “You’ve settled in a bit here,” Charles said.
    She arched her brow. “I’ve hired more staff for the place. I told you I would.”
    “Did you?” He frowned as if genuinely trying to remember. She would take this as a lesson. Never tell Charles something important when he was thinking about birds. “Do you think we need them?”
    Graham slapped his knee, laughing, and earned a glare from his twin.
    “Of course we need them,” Pru said patiently. “I need them at any rate. If you expect me to bring your sister out, it necessitates more than a month-long visit. We’ll be spending an entire Season in London and as fine as your staff is, they could hardly be expected to manage the entire Season with us in residence. You must own that I needed a new abigail.”
    “You’ve been very busy today.”
    She eyed Charles anxiously, but he didn’t seem displeased; he looked rather…stunned. Pole-axed was the word her sister, Grace would use.
    Graham cleared his throat. “What time is the wedding?”
    “After breakfast,” Charles said.
    “Wonderful,” Graham said. “What time do we eat?”

    They spent a delightful evening, but Charles was relieved when Graham made noises about leaving. He followed his brother to the door, but once outside, Graham turned back to him.
    Charles sighed. “This is where you ask me if I’m sure and if I know who her father is.”
    “’Course you know. Hard not to. Not the sort of family I’d choose, but sober as a judge is for you, I wager. Tell me you didn’t just meet her.”
    “I just met her.”
    “Lord!” Graham wiped his face with his hand. “Say she isn’t carrying the next set of Hatterly twins.”
    “Nothing of the sort!”
    “She has no chaperone, has she? Where is her family in this? I tell you this wedding seems a complete hum.”
    “It isn’t a hum,” Charles said. “Prudence is exactly as she seems: a lovely young woman who is foolish enough to yoke herself to this family.”
    Graham sagged against the door. “She’s staying here, isn’t she?”
    Charles remained silent.
    Graham cursed softly and placed his hat on his head. “Very well. If she can lure you away from the fields and skies, I suppose I must approve.”
    “It isn’t for you to approve.”
    “Rest easy, Charles. I didn’t mean to give offense over your little sparrow.” He took up his walking stick and went out into the night.

    Charles stood in the doorway to the drawing room, silently watching Prudence extinguishing the candles. She remained backlit by the fireplace as she paced, clasping and unclasping her hands.
    “Nervous?” He slowly crossed the room.
    “Of course I am. Tomorrow we will be married. Riveted! Tenants for life! ’Til death do