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'I left word for him to follow us,' Lord Mottesford said soothingly. 'In fact, there is someone arriving now. Yes,' he added after a swift look through the window. 'Charlotte, listen to me, quickly. If you heed my advice don't tell Edward you have a large fortune until after he has offered for you. He's a plaguey touchy fellow, he might think he couldn't marry an heiress. Do you understand?'

Charlotte nodded swiftly, and then turned eagerly to the door as it was flung impetuously open and Edward Gregory marched in.

'Well, what sort of a coil is this?' he demanded, striding across the room to take Charlotte's hand in his. 'Netta was full of bogeymen and wicked witches, I thought you'd all been dragged off to some enchanted forest.'

Laughing and crying, Charlotte tried to explain, until Prudence took pity on her and spoke.

'Lady Mottesford refused your offer because she wanted Charlotte to marry Hubert,' she said crisply. 'They were travelling to Devon in order to force her compliance, and Lord Mottesford and I chased them. He prevented it,' she finished, beginning to laugh at the recollection. 'He knocked Hubert down, and was marvellous!'

'My thanks, Richard,' Edward said, still looking puzzled. 'Where are they?'

'On their way to Devon,' Lord Mottesford said calmly.

'But Charlotte? How did you persuade them to leave her with you?'

'I intended to bring her back to town. For you to renew your offer, if you so wished.'

'If I wished? Richard, are you crazy? Of course I wish, and Charlotte knows it. But how can we marry if that wretched woman refuses her consent?'

'She won't. Well, are the pair of you betrothed? If so, I suggest we sit and eat some of this excellent fare the landlord has provided. There would have been time for him to roast a capon after all, had he known,' he added reflectively, and Prudence chuckled.

'Well, my love?' Edward asked, and Charlotte, with a shy smile, slipped her hand into his.

'Champagne, mine host!' Lord Mottesford called, and they then explained everything in detail to Edward while they ate.

'I'd no notion you were an heiress,' he said at the end.

'Neither had I, and it feels very strange.'

'But you can't cry off because of it,' Lord Mottesford warned. 'Prudence and I are witnesses.'

'If Charlotte is happy so am I. But it's high time we were setting off for London. Where can Charlotte go?'

'We'll take her to my home,' Prudence said quickly. 'Aunt Lavinia will be delighted to have her until the wedding can be arranged, or Sarah will.'

'Good, so you take Charlotte in your curricle and we will follow when I've settled with the landlord. We'll see you later in Grosvenor Square.'

Edward and Charlotte then left, while Lord Mottesford went to find the landlord.

Suddenly, after all the excitement, and alone in the coffee room, Prudence felt oddly bereft. She was sitting on the window seat, her feet curled underneath her, her chin on her hands, when Lord Mottesford returned.

'Well, are we ready?' she asked brightly, coming to her feet.

'Not for a while. Prudence, my dear, am I forgiven?'

'Forgiven?' she asked, suddenly breathless. 'I ought rather to be thanking you for helping Charlotte, and bringing me with you.'

'Sit down.' He took her hand in his and led her back to the windowseat, then sat beside her, retaining her hand in his.

'My lord?'

'I never intended to marry that wretched girl,' he said, an irrepressible twinkle in his eyes, 'although I confess I did not expect to escape quite so easily.'

Prudence laughed. 'Permit me to say you were thoroughly unscrupulous, my lord! A farmhouse in Westmorland indeed! And needing to retrench! It would have served you well if she had called your bluff!'

'I don't think there was any fear of that. What Emma wanted was a rich and complaisant husband to pay all her bills, while she queened it in London. I'd have found some other way of getting rid of her if those threats had not worked.'

'Unscrupulous, my lord.'

'Indeed. For I could no more have married her than Charlotte could the deplorable Hubert.'

'But why did you permit them to trap you in the first place? It would have been so easy to deny it, to say it was all a mistake.'

'But I wanted to make you sorry for me,' he replied, in apparent surprise she should not already have guessed his motives. 'Prudence, we started badly with the stupid wager. I never dreamed you knew of it, or I would have understood earlier your inexplicable coldness, after I was so sure you were beginning to return my regard.'

'I was unable to believe you were sincere,' she said slowly. 'I wanted to, so much, but did not dare.'

'I was sincere after the first couple of days, I think. It took so little time to realise that you were different from the usual simpering misses just out of the schoolroom, that I have been avoiding every time I came to London on leave. I certainly never wished even to flirt with them for more than a few days.'

'You are a confirmed flirt?' she teased, suddenly happy beyond her wildest hopes.

'Utterly,' he agreed, 'and unrepentant. But now I shall always flirt with you. Just with you. Am I forgiven? Will you trust me now?'

Prudence nodded, and sighed as he pulled her towards him, to kiss her gently on the forehead.

'When will you marry me, my darling?' he asked, his voice husky.

'Shall I have to live in Westmorland?' she asked, in a mock solemn voice.

'Only if you displease me. But I would live there with you,' he added as she drew away from him. 'I could not bear to be apart from you.'

'And will you allow me a new gown every year?' she queried anxiously.

'I might manage two. And possibly a bonnet as well, as long as you trim it yourself with all the leftover scraps from the gowns you will make.'

She giggled. 'After threatening Emma with such fierce retrenchment, how will you dare to appear in town, my lord?' she demanded.

'I shall live on your money, of course. You are an heiress, aren't you, or have I been misled?'

'I haven't a penny,' Prudence claimed blithely.

'Oh, dear, how can I get out of this betrothal?' he asked with a worried frown.

'Well, I haven't yet accepted your offer, my lord,' she reminded him.

'So you haven't. What a relief. I shall withdraw the whole scheme unless you immediately start to address me with greater respect, as Richard.'

'But I prefer Dicky,' she said pensively.

'I could even tolerate that from you, my darling,' he said, suddenly serious.

'Richard, no!' she exclaimed, and as Prudence turned her face towards him, he bent his mouth to hers.

It was some time later that, shaken by the glimpse she had been vouchsafed of their mutual passion, Prudence sighed and said she would be an abandoned wretch if she did not agree to marry him now.

It was very late when they arrived in Grosvenor Square, where Charlotte had been welcomed an hour earlier, and where Edward had been invited to join the Fromes for dinner. As Tanner opened the door and Prudence stepped inside the familiar house, Lord Mottesford at her side, Netta came flying down the stairs.

'There,' she exclaimed, ignoring her mother's protests that she ought to be in the schoolroom having her supper, as Lady Frome emerged from the drawing room and followed her down. 'I knew they would make it up. Mr Gregory explained he won the wager within the week. When are you getting married? Can I be a bridesmaid?'

Prudence blushed, glanced up at her smiling aunt and uncle, and found Richard's arm was about her waist.

'She's marrying me just as soon as we can possibly arrange it,' he said firmly. 'I'm not risking any more ridiculous misunderstandings. And I'm not entering into any more wagers with you, my lad,' he added to Edward. 'Unless it's one to beat you to the altar!'

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 1987 by Marina Oliver

Originally published by My Weekly Pocket Novel)

Electronically published in 2011 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228

 

     http://www.RegencyReads.com

     Electronic sales: [email protected]

 

This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.

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