Vexed by a Viscount (6 page)

His words actually surprised her. “You would have liked to choose your own wife?” He was a man; she’d assumed he would have already protested the arrangement, if that were the case.

He shrugged as he swallowed. “Of course. Who doesn’t want to have a say in who will sit across the breakfast table for the rest of one’s life?” As if realizing the implication, he grimaced and said, “My apologies. I realize that you are in a situation that is certainly outside of your control.”

Control
. What a foreign concept for her. “Nothing in my life has ever been in my control, so I have no reason to protest now.” She stuffed another bite of the lemon cake in her mouth. It really was divine. Light, fluffy, sweet, and tangy. It almost made up for the distasteful turn of the conversation.

He shifted, leaning on his left arm while lightly tapping the prongs of his fork on the plate. Regarding her thoughtfully, he said, “Have you never before rebelled? Tested the waters of disobedience?”

The very thought made something inside of her cringe. “Perhaps when I was very young, but honestly I can’t remember ever doing so. My parents’ and nursemaids’ wills were law to me. There’s this heavy lump of dread that lodges in my chest if ever I think of pushing back. I swear I am physically incapable of being defiant.”

Even now, sitting here in the sunshine eating the world’s most delicious cake beside one of the most charming men she knew, there was still an echo of that lump. The only reason she had been able to pursue the items on her list was because she was doing so secretly. Or at least as secretly as one can be with an accomplice.

“And yet, you have a list.”

She nodded. “I do.” Drastic times called for mildly drastic measures.

“And you are actually doing the things on the list.” He sounded as though he were genuinely impressed.

A small, pleased smile tugged at her lips. For the first time in her life, she was stepping outside of the straight and narrow path she had held to for so long. “I am.”

He lifted a heaping forkful of cake as though it were a glass of champagne. “To Miss Landon. The bravest woman I know.”

There was no holding back her grin now. “Call me Prudence.” Even just saying the words sent a rush of exhilaration through her. Right then and there, she decided that
Extend the right to use my Christian name to a handsome man
should definitely be on her list.

His answering smile sent a second rush clear to her toes. “Actually, I believe I shall call you Pru.”

Pru?
She wrinkled her nose. “Whyever would you call me that?”

It was impossible to miss the devilish glint in his eyes. “Because for the next two weeks, I declare that you shall be as
im
prudent as possible.”

The confidence that rang in his voice made her feel that much more daring. He believed she was capable of breaking from her prison of correct behavior. Of course, he
had
seen her swimming naked, so perhaps it wasn’t such a great leap for him.

His grin turned teasing as he leaned forward. “And you may call me William if you wish to be truly naughty.”

“Oh, I can’t imagine . . .” She bit her lip, contemplating whether she could bring herself to call him that. “Are you certain?”

He lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. “Quite. Though really only my brother and cousins call me that. My father has called me Ashby since I was born, as do all of my school friends, and that’s more or less how I think of myself.”

William.
She silently mouthed the name, feeling terribly forward all the while. Finally, she shook her head. “Ash will suffice, I think. Since that’s what you call yourself.”

It was obvious he wasn’t fooled. Lifting an eyebrow, he said, “Mm-hmm. Very well, but I must insist that you say it, at least once.”

“No, really—”

He cut her off. “No arguments. Say my name.”

For some reason, the request sent a tiny thrill straight down her spine, making her shiver. It was just so . . .
personal.
“It’s not necessary—”

He set his hands on either side of her shoulders, immediately stealing the air from the rest of her protest. “You’re thinking about this too much. Let go of convention, throw that exceptionally well-developed caution of yours to the wind, and call me by my Christian name.”

For a moment, she couldn’t speak at all. She was held spellbound by his earnest gaze and the warmth of his hands at her shoulders. The flecks of gold in his eyes seemed to shimmer like sunlight dancing along the forest floor. Taking a long, slow breath, she licked her lips and met his gaze. “As you wish . . . William.”

A
sh’s breath rushed from his lungs like air from a bellow. No one had ever spoken his name quite like
that
before.

In the space of that one word, the lightheartedness of the moment evaporated like water in a hot pan, leaving him momentarily stunned. What the hell had just happened? He leaned back, breaking the contact between them, and rubbed his hand over his chest.

Those big, sapphire-blue eyes stared back at him expectantly, uncertainty lurking in their depths. He rallied, knowing he needed to respond. “There, see? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

His voice sounded normal, thank God, and he could almost pretend the strange moment hadn’t happened. He was doing nothing more than helping a neighbor. Wasn’t that what people were supposed to do? It was even in the Bible, if he wasn’t mistaken. Or maybe it was love thy neighbor . . .

Shaking himself from the strangeness of his reaction, he settled back and grabbed his fork like a lifeline, shoveling another chunk of the plum cake into his mouth.

She made a face, or at least as close to a face as one as ladylike as she could make. “Yes, it was hard, actually,” she said, her plump bottom lip falling victim once more to her top teeth. Still, there was a hint of teasing in both her words and her eyes. “But at least I can scratch it off my list now.”

Feeling on firmer footing again, he chuckled. “Am I on the list now? I recall only swimming, dancing, eating, and drinking.”

“I’m not opposed to revising the list,” she said, primly brushing crumbs from her skirts. “
Address a social superior by his given name
was added mere moments before it was accomplished.”

“So we can add to the list?” He liked that. If she was about to resign herself to a life with Jeffries, he wanted her to enjoy the next few weeks as much as possible. His mind flipped through a dozen possible scenarios to add to the list. “This just got much more interesting.”

She shook her head, pressing both hands to her chest. “
I
can add to the list. I’m not certain it would be wise to allow
you
to do so. I can just imagine all manner of troubles you would get me into.”

“Yes, I can too,” he agreed, earning a light laugh from her. “Perhaps there is a compromise in there. Allow me to add just
one
item to the list. One that I promise will not land you in front of the magistrate or warrant your parents’ censure.”

Eyeing him suspiciously, she said, “And what, exactly, do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know yet. But I brought you cake, so that should count for something.”

“It does—my heartfelt gratitude. It does not entitle you to my blind trust.”

He liked bantering with her like this. She’d lost any hesitancy that she had shown in the past, appearing to be truly at ease with him. Which was appropriate, seeing how that was precisely how he felt with her. “Then I shall have to prove my trustworthiness,” he replied.

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth again, briefly worrying it. “I see. And how do you plan to do that? I wish to know if I should be worried or not.”

He smiled broadly, if purposely enigmatically. “There’s time enough to worry about that. But for now,” he said, confiscating her fork in order to lift a morsel of lemon cake to her reddened lips, “you still need to finish your cake.”

Surprise registered in her gaze, but just when he thought she would refuse him, she opened her mouth and accepted the bite. He loved watching her savor it, as though it were the finest dessert ever to pass her lips. She showed more pleasure in this small thing than some of the women he knew showed in gifts of jewels.

When she finished, she looked down at the still half-full plate and sighed. “This was amazing, but I can’t possibly eat even one more crumb.”

“I think it counts for crossing off the item from your list. After all, if you partook in half of three small slices, that equals one regular slice.”

Her laugh was as light as goose down. “Yes, I do believe you are right.”

“And was it everything you hoped it would be?”

Her smile softened as she nodded, her eyes never leaving his. “Much more so. Thank you, Ash. You turned quite an ordinary event into something rather extraordinary.”

In that moment, he wanted to go to Jeffries and demand that he give his bride cake every night. Anyone who appreciated the small pleasures in life this well deserved to indulge.

Nodding, he said, “You are most welcome. I don’t think I have enjoyed cake or company quite so well in my life.”

“My feelings exactly. Alas, I must return home. My mother will begin to worry that I fell in the creek again,” she said with a wink.

“Those creeks do tend to sneak up on a person,” he said with a grin. “Can I at least walk you back to the edge of the forest?” The idea of having her leave so soon was more disappointing than he would have imagined. He stood and held out his hand to her.

She readily accepted his assistance, slipping her gloved hand into his and allowing him to lift her to her feet. “No, I think not. I would hate to try to explain your presence should someone come upon us.”

It was sound reasoning, unfortunately. “Very well. Thank you for joining me this afternoon. I do so love abetting a bit of debauchery.” He gave a teasing wiggle of his eyebrows, wanting to see her laugh one more time.

He was not disappointed. She wrinkled her nose and half laughed, half groaned. “I am involved in no such thing! Debauchery, indeed.”

“Well, what would
you
call the willful abandonment of propriety?” he challenged, sending her his most innocent look.

Swatting at his arm, she said, “Merely sidestepping the rules for a moment or two.” She lifted her chin, practically daring him to contradict her.

Sweeping his most magnificent bow, he said, “Then who am I to disagree?” Straightening, he smiled with genuine affection this time. “Good day to you, my friend. I do look forward to seeing you again soon.”

After a brief curtsey and cheeky grin, she turned and made her way back down the path toward her father’s property. He watched her go, loving the way her sunny yellow gown swished back and forth as she walked, giving subtle glimpses of her figure.

“Pru,” he called impulsively, causing her to stop and look over her shoulder in question. “You look very well in yellow. You should wear it more often.”

Her grin was as bright as the sun itself, and he reveled in the knowledge that he had elicited it.

He set his hands to his hips and exhaled as she carried on her way. Tomorrow night, she planned to dance barefoot beneath the full moon. Of course, everyone knew that a proper dance required two people. Lucky for her, he knew of a volunteer who was more than happy to join in.

***

“W
hat
are
you woolgathering about, Prudence?” Mama scowled at her across the pile of new fabric Mrs. Hedgepeth had brought by the house for their approval. “Can’t you see we have much to do today?”

Blinking, Prudence glanced away from the wet, dreary landscape beyond the rain-streaked window and tried to piece together whatever it was her mother had been saying while Prudence had been thinking of yesterday’s picnic. Something about . . . fabric, perhaps? Or flowers? The wedding breakfast menu, by chance?

Drat—it could have been anything.

Sending her mother an apologetic cringe, she said, “I’m so sorry. I was just thinking about . . . the squire’s gardens. Do you think there are roses?”

It was the perfect distraction. Mama’s pinched lips instantly eased as she gave the question due consideration. Anything having to do with the squire was always worthy of discussion. “Yes, I believe there are. But as mistress, you may direct the gardener to add more if you like. In fact, it will be an excellent opportunity to establish your authority within the household. Within reason, of course,” she said with a confident nod.

“Of course,” Prudence echoed dutifully.

“As for the topic at hand,” Mama continued, “I was inquiring about whether or not the squire had indicated that you might be visiting London anytime soon.”

Her betrothed’s words from their short time alone together came back to her, heating her cheeks. He wanted her to visit his preferred
modiste
. It had been a singularly odd thing to speak of, and again she felt the same vague discomfort she had experienced at the time. Looking down to the square of greenish-blue silk closest to her, she ran a hand over it and nodded. “Yes, he did.”

“Very good. In that case, I think you should go with the pink India muslin for a nice day dress, and the willow-green gauze with satin sprig for an evening gown.” She sent Prudence a knowing smile. “I’m sure your new husband will be keen to show you off, and we want for you to put your very best foot forward during your first foray into society.”

The image of Squire Jeffries parading her around like a prize mare didn’t exactly appeal to Prudence. She didn’t want to be a silent decoration for his arm; she wanted to be seen for who she was.

She sat a little straighter, her fingers rumpling the corner of the silk. When had she ever wished for such a thing? For as long as she could remember, she had always wished not to be noticed at all. Wasn’t that the goal of a dutiful daughter? But in that moment, with the phantom taste of illicit lemon cake still fresh on her lips, she wanted to stand tall and proud for the woman she was. The woman she had been these past few days as she pursued the items on her list.