“I would expect nothing less.” She settled her skirts and forced herself to focus on the work at hand. “Now I’m particularly interested in getting the sound of the water falling just right in the fountain…”
The fact that she was sitting less than a foot away from one of the most attractive men she’d ever met in her entire life…well, that meant absolutely nothing at all.
She swallowed, pulled her focus to the Duke’s project, and did her best to ignore the outrageously appealing Sir Ronan O’Malley for the rest of the morning.
*~~*~~*
“Forgive me, uncle, but that was the most boring few days I’ve spent in quite some time.” Prudence leaned back in the carriage with a sigh of relief. “The Streatfords may be of great consequence, as her Ladyship managed to insinuate on many occasions, but Mr Albert Streatford is still, to be blunt, an ill-mannered lackwit. I apologise if I am insulting a family connection.”
The Duke shook his head. “I am ashamed to admit that I am in the fullest agreement with that sentiment. And it reflects poorly on me that I cannot find a single virtue with which to endow not only young Mr Streatford, but the entire damn family.”
Prudence peeked around her bonnet and grinned. “Let’s not do that again.”
“We had no choice, really.” The Duke spread his hands out helplessly. “The Streatfords are distantly related to the Maidenbrookes and unfortunately that matters in the overall scheme of things. So any association with them is a courtesy, and we are honour-bound to view it as such.”
“I do understand. But this is perhaps the third or fourth visit. And of course, since there’s an eligible young Streatford and you have an unwed niece…” She let her voice trail off.
“Yes, yes. I know. It was quite obvious.” He pursed his lips. “Lady Streatford has always behaved as if she ruled not only the Streatford line, but the Maidenbrooke line as well. I believe my parents suffered from her interference, if I remember correctly. She is quite convinced of her own superiority. I am so sorry about it.”
“Horridly so,” sighed Prudence. “But it’s certainly not your fault. If you will forgive my forthright speech—she’s a pushy termagant, a bully and certainly not one to view her sonas anything other than the next arrogant Streatford.” She took a breath. “I would probably feel sorry for him were he not possessed of such an unpleasant character.”
“Well, we’re done with them, for now at least.” The Duke gazed out of the window. “I will try to avoid such situations, I promise you. Not just because they’re difficult for you, but also because they’re extremely annoying for me.”
“I am much relieved to hear it,” answered Prudence. “And also much relieved to be heading back to town, even though we are a day early.”
He grinned. “Anticipating your visit to the Wednesday club?”
“Well, I had expected to miss it this week, but now you come to mention it, yes, I would love to go.”
“Then you shall. As your reward for not dumping the bowl of trifle over Albert Streatford’s head.”
She blushed. “Thank you for noticing my restraint. But when he started talking about this play he’d just read, and declaring he would instruct me on how to interpret it because it would probably be too complex for me to understand…it was Hamlet, for heaven’s sake, Uncle. I could quote half of it…”
“And you were sitting right next to the trifle…”
“I was indeed rather close to disaster…”
“You know something,” the Duke observed thoughtfully, “it would have suited him.”
Their driver smiled to hear the merriment from within. It wasn’t a long journey back to town, and the weather was fine, so with a cheerful whistle he clicked up the horses to a spanking pace, urged on by the sound of two happy people sharing a jest.
Being a sensible girl, Prudence had not shied away from the idea of marriage. She knew eventually she would wed, and that her future husband would be from a well-born family. It was no secret that the upper classes preferred to marry within their ranks. There were logical estate considerations that were easily concluded by a carefully arranged marriage. There were fortunes that could be expanded, properties exchanged or traded…the business of marrying was just that. A business. And the arrangements would not be simple or quick.
In her case there was money, of course. Her parents’ estate was hers, managed on her behalf by her Uncle. He was not afraid to speak with her about it, and as soon as he’d understood she was interested, he hadn’t hesitated to give her occasional updates. She appreciated that, since it was rare for a man to even discuss such things with a woman, let alone a young woman who was under his jurisdiction.
But Uncle Colly was a different sort of Duke. And a different sort of man. She was grateful for both, since she hadn’t had to worry about being foisted off onto a lackwit like Albert Streatford, even though his lineage was impeccable and his fortune acceptable. It would have been an approvingly sanctioned union by many viewing the situation.
The landscape passed by the carriage window, unseen by the young woman staring out, deep in thought.
Who, wondered Prudence, would be the man she would wed? Would she love him immediately? Or would it be a slow tumble into that desired state? Judith Withersby had fallen, and Rose had slid into it with Miles Linfield.
Both were love matches, it was plain to see. What would be her fate and who would be the one to share her life?
