How to Wed a Warrior

by Christy English

  Pru made a strangled noise at his side, but he did not heed her. This time, when Robbie smiled, it was real. “Aye, lady duchess, that is my intention.”

  “Intentions are all well and good, my boy, but action is the fruit of heaven. Get to it then.”

  The old lady looked them both over once more before stalking off to find other prey. She crossed the room to Mary Elizabeth and the duke. Mary Elizabeth curtsied prettily, and the old lady smiled at her, ignoring her son altogether.

  “She’s an odd one,” Robbie said.

  “That,” Prudence answered, sounding a bit bemused, “is an understatement.”

  * * *

  Pru slipped away from Robbie, leaving him to watch over Mary Elizabeth, as Alexander Waters was far too distracted by his young bride to do the job properly. She found herself envying those two the freedom of their open, light-filled love. Her own heart felt as dark as a tomb.

  But now she was being uncharitable. Better to go read her brother’s letter. She said a small prayer for her brother, and for the Waterses, too, not knowing if anyone was listening, but hoping that Someone might be.

  Instead of going to the ladies’ retiring room, where the duchess or Sara Vaughton or Mary Elizabeth might burst in and question her, she crept up the darkened staircase to the private rooms, where her own borrowed bedroom lay.

  A fire was lit in the hearth, throwing shadows over the carved marble of the mantelpiece. One lamp burned by the dressing table. She turned the wick up and sat down.

  Her hands shook again as she opened the letter, and this time, she could read every word.

  Sister,

  I know you think me dead, and I’ve skirted close to oblivion more than once in the last five years. But as you see, I live. I hope you do not hate me for all the evil I am said to have done. I could not bear my silence any longer, knowing that you think ill of me.

  Our losses are great, but yours are perhaps the greatest, as a woman alone does not fare well in this world. I wish that I might send you money, but all I have is this gold Spanish doubloon, which I enclosed beneath the seal. I hope it does you good, and saves you from some cumbersome burden, many of which you no doubt shoulder now.

  Grathton tells me that you refused to marry him, and went away as soon as I was lost. I wish you were not so stubborn. I wish that, in my place, you had let that good, solid man care for you. But I am the last man to condemn you for folly, as my own follies are hard enough to bear.

  I wish that I might come to you and set things right. I wish that I might be your knight and defend you, as we once played at castles and tilting when we were small. Please know that only my wish for your continued safety keeps me from you.

  If I live beyond this latest challenge, I will come to you. I swear it, by the God our mother so firmly believed in. Until that day, remember me with love, and know that I do the same of you.

  Now and always,

  Your brother,

  Bertie

  Their father’s seal was placed firmly next to his name. Except that it was her brother’s seal now, if it was anybody’s. She drew Robbie’s large square handkerchief from the drawer of her dressing table and wiped her eyes with it. Tears were useless. Action was what was called for.

  She washed her face and dried her eyes again, knowing that Robbie would see she had been crying and question her about it. She would need to make up some credible lie. She would smile, and dance, and eat her supper. After the ball, she would show him this letter.

  If she could manage to keep her secret until Mary Elizabeth’s party was through, Robbie would help her. He would help her brother. She had no doubt of it.

  Thirty

  Pru was not sure how she got through the rest of the evening. In an effort to seem as serene and unaffected as possible, and to keep the contents of her letter a secret for a few hours more, she coerced Alex into escorting her in to dinner, as the duchess did not seem to care who sat with whom at her table. The madness of a coronet had its privileges. Robbie took Alex’s young wife in to dine, glaring down the table at Pru for eluding him. Though he was cool toward her as he always was, Alexander was the soul of courtesy, and did not curse her openly for keeping him from his Catherine. Pru told herself that they had a lifetime to sit together. Tonight, she needed the shield of Alexander’s broad shoulders more.

  She managed to elude Robbie well past midnight, when he finally cornered her next to a potted palm.

  “You’re trying to evade me, Lady Pru. It won’t work.”

  “It has been working,” she answered. “Rather well. Until now.”

  He took a deep breath in what she had come to recognize as his way of holding on to his temper, and she took the moment to breathe in the scent of his skin. She wanted him so badly, her hands almost shook with it. She pressed her hand against her breast, where she had hidden her brother’s letter. Robbie looked to where her hand was tending, and his eyes lost their focus.

  “Step into the hallway, if you will, love. Let me woo you.”

  “I know where your wooing tends, Robert Waters. I need to keep my eyes on your sister.”

  “Is that what you call it, as you dance with every swain who asks you? Were you watching her close from the arms of your old lover, Grathton, during that last waltz?”

  “Robbie,” she said, casting her voice low. “Why are you so angry? I am merely pleasant to these gentlemen, as propriety dictates, Lord Grathton included. It’s you I want. So why are we fussing like hens in a chicken yard?”

  He swallowed hard and did not speak. For one long moment, she thought that he might have swallowed his tongue, and she would not get any sense out of him at all. She continued in the same vein as she had begun, watching his blue eyes darken to indigo with desire.

  “I am going to see Mary Elizabeth to bed,” she said. “Then I will come to you.”

  He swallowed again, the heat in his eyes scorching her skin where she stood. She saw his gloved hands flex, and knew he wanted to drag her away from there—and under him. But he was in control of himself, which was what she was counting on.

  “No. I’ll come to you.” His voice was rough, and made her shiver.

  Her heart started pounding in her breast. Tonight she would tell him the last of her secrets. “Give me half an hour to look in on Mary.”

  “Go now,” Robbie said. “She just left, and went up the stairs behind you.”

  Pru was almost faint with the need to touch him, so she turned to go at once. She did not trust herself to say a civilized good night. But he would not let her go.

  He dragged her back behind the ferns, deeper into the shadows, and kissed her hard, his hand rising to her breast, his fingers heating her skin beneath the silk like a brand.

  “Leave this gown on,” he said. “And let your hair down.”

  He let her go then, and she fled before she did anything that might cause a bigger scandal. But no one seemed to see her go, save for the duchess, who raised her glass of wine in a salute as she passed, one woman to another.

  * * *

  Pru found Mary Elizabeth still dressed in her scarlet gown. She had discarded the gold baldric, but instead of taking down her hair and readying herself for bed, the girl had her long blade out and was putting herself through her paces.

  “Mary, please don’t put your eye out.”

  The good-natured girl merely laughed. “Ah, Lady Pru, I’ve been at this blade since I was twelve. I’m safe enough, and so are you.”

  “So you’ve heard the truth, that I am no widow.”

  “Aye.” Mary Elizabeth sheathed her sword. “I knew you were not who you said you were, but I figured you’d tell me when you were good and ready. I’m not as blind as my brothers are.”

  “My father and mother are dead. Our family estate is lost, and my brother is in disgrace.”

  Mary Elizabeth did no
t recoil at that litany of horrors, but looked sympathetic, offering her hand. “I am sorry for that, Lady Pru. But you are still yourself, whatever name we call you.”

  Pru took the hand she offered. The warm touch soothed her and brought her back to ground. She felt more stable with Mary’s hand in hers.

  “I was hired to help you,” she said. “But all you have done is help me.”

  “Ah, now, that is what family does. We help each other.”

  Pru felt tears come into her eyes, and Mary Elizabeth took her into her arms for a short, fierce hug. “No crying now. This night was a triumph. You’ve got more than one man panting after you, my brother included.”

  Pru sniffled and smiled. “Alexander is very kind.”

  Mary Elizabeth laughed loud at that feeble joke. “It’s Robbie I mean, and you know it. He loves you, God help him.”

  “I love him, too,” Pru answered. She felt as if she might cry again, so she blinked hard to stop herself.

  “Ah, now, no need for tears. Robbie’s a pain in the arse, but he’ll do right by you.”

  Pru laughed a watery laugh. “I want to do right by him,” she said.

  “Of course you will,” Mary Elizabeth answered. “You’re safe now. We’ll keep you so, for the rest of your life.” Her charge hugged her one more time, then led her toward the door. “Now head on, and don’t keep him waiting.”

  Pru laughed that time from her belly. “I am not meeting your brother.”

  Mary Elizabeth looked skeptical, and Pru flushed at the lie she had told. Mary ignored the blush and the lie both. “Sure, and you’re not,” she said glibly. “He’ll make you my sister, either way. Welcome to the family.”

  She would not accept Robbie’s proposal and ruin this girl’s chances with the ton. But she could not have been touched more deeply. If she had ever been accepted as easily for whom she was in all her life, she could not remember it. Pru felt her throat close over any words she might have spoken. She simply kissed Mary Elizabeth’s cheek and left, closing the door behind her.

  * * *

  Robbie now knew what a cat felt like when it was trapped indoors with rocking chairs all around. He stood in front of the blaze in Pru’s fireplace and paced, then tossed on another piece of sweet-burning apple wood, and paced some more.

  Where in God’s name was she?

  He was about to go and look for her when she slipped inside, still dressed in her sapphire blue gown. It caught under her breasts, displaying them like fruit he might savor. But he did not step toward her, for she held up one hand to stop him. “Robbie,” she said. “I lied to you. The letter John gave me was not from his sister.”

  “No?” Robbie felt as if a sluice of cold water had been tossed over his head. Before he could become annoyed that she had accepted a love letter from her old flame, she distracted him by reaching into her dress where her beautiful breasts were hidden, drawing the letter out.

  “It’s from Albert. My brother.”

  She held it out to him, palm open, just as he now knew she would hold out her heart. He stepped forward carefully, banking his lust like a fire that he would tend later. He took the letter and read it.

  “I am very pleased to know he is still alive,” Robbie said, thinking it best not to mention that he had already known. He and his would look to the man, and deem whether or not he was fit company for the woman at his side. This Albert, the last Earl of Lynwood, might be a bungler, or he might be a thief. Either way, Robbie would keep Prudence safe—from him and from any trouble he might have fallen into.

  Of course, Robbie knew women. And he knew his Pru. So he knew better than to tell her this. Instead, he folded her letter carefully and laid it by on her dressing table, where she could see it.

  “Will you help him?” Pru asked, tears standing in her eyes. Robbie realized then that he had told her nothing of his thoughts, and he smiled at her.

  “I swore an oath to defend you, Pru. That means defending your kin as well. I will help him, and so will my brothers. We’ll find him, and take him in, and pay off his debts. Don’t think on this again.”

  “I can think of nothing else,” she said. “You will save him?”

  Robbie knew that she did not doubt his word. She just needed to hear him say the words again. She had been a long time alone, before he and Mary Elizabeth found her.

  “I swear on my honor, I will save him. Now come here.”

  She went to him then, and he held her, taking in the sweet scent of her hair. He ran his hand down her back, and she wiped her eyes on his shoulder, as if to hide the fact that she had been crying at all.

  “It’s all right now, leannan. You’re with me.”

  Pru stayed in his arms like a little bird taking shelter, and he felt his body respond to her nearness as it always had, as he knew it always would. Still, he did not move to caress her or to kiss her, save only to rub her back until she sniffled one last time, and pulled away.

  “I’m glad you came to me, Robbie.”

  “I would be nowhere else.”

  Those heavy words lay between them, as well as all the weight of her brother’s life. Robbie stepped away from her then, and went to make a circle around the room, much like a caged bear. Very likely she would not want him now, but would instead want to go to her bed. Alone.

  She looked exhausted from fear and weeping both, and he was not a man to impose himself on a woman ever.

  “Well, then,” he said. “I had best go.”

  “You’re leaving?” This time Pru’s voice was not plaintive, but annoyed.

  She had wiped her eyes in earnest then, so that they no longer held tears, but naked interest. His Pru watched him as he stood there, as a cat might watch a mouse hole.

  “I’ll stay, if you’ll have me,” he said.

  A new light came into her eyes, and his heart soared to see it. He pushed away all thoughts of her brother, and all thoughts of the morrow, and simply looked at her.

  “I’d like to have you,” Prudence said. “How shall we begin?”

  “I’ll lock the door first,” he said. “If your ladyship pleases.”

  She laughed then, and the sound warmed his heart.

  He moved across the room to where she loitered just inside the door. Suddenly, he felt shy, as he had not felt since he was a green lad. He did not move fast, in case she might change her mind, for she was a gentlewoman, and a well-bred virgin. He had never bedded one of those before. He had never before bedded a woman he loved. He would have to take his time. He would have to cherish her, and be careful. He would need to treat her like thin glass that might break at his touch.

  Robbie told himself this litany as he stepped toward her, hands raised. She laughed again to see him do it, and stepped out of his way.

  “You surrender then?” Pru asked, as pert as ever, all traces of her tears gone.

  He smiled at her wryly, and locked the door behind her. He left the key in the lock. He was not a man to trap a woman anywhere. And there was always the chance that, as a maid, she might even now change her mind.

  He thought of her sweetness the night before, laid out naked on that table before him in the library while he feasted on her. He had used up his restraint in that adventure. He prayed to God that he might be given a bit more restraint to call on tonight. As it was, he wanted to drag her down in front of that fire and have her there on the fancy ducal hearthrug.

  Robbie breathed deep in an effort to hold himself still. “Wine?” he asked.

  “I thought you only drank whisky and beer,” she said.

  He raised one brow, and poured a deep Burgundy into one glass, watering it only a little. He wanted her relaxed, to smooth over the breach of her maidenhead. He was determined not to hurt her, even for a moment. The more relaxed she was, the easier it would be.

  Her hair was down around her shoulders, just as
he had instructed her to let it down. To see her obey him in something so small made him want her even more. The golden flecks in her honey hair caught the firelight. He stepped toward her, glass in hand, and drew in a deep breath of hyacinth.

  “I will buy you vats of that perfume,” he said. “We’ll stow them in the bottom of the keep so that they will never spoil, and you’ll wear it every day for the rest of our lives.”

  “Will I?” She smiled up at him, the light in her eyes warm and loving in spite of the challenge in her words. “What if I get bored with it?” she asked. “What if I come to prefer rosewater?”

  “Then I will buy you that, too,” he said. “But I pray that you do not.”

  “May all your prayers be answered,” she said, leaning up to him, letting her lips come close to his, but not sealing the distance between them.

  He took her mouth then, feasting on her. Her lips were soft and sweet, and the smell of her flowers and the heat of her skin almost undid his reason. He shook with the need to have her, and after only a moment, he drew back and looked down at the wine in his hand. He had managed not to spill any of it.

  She looked disappointed that he did not kiss her again. He smiled at her, and kissed her quick, then drank from the wine before offering it to her.

  She took it from his hand and drank the rest. He set the glass aside then, and turned her around, that he might unfasten her gown at the back.

  He discovered the hooks not behind her, but down the side of the gown, underneath her arm. She leaned back against him as his hands fumbled with the fastenings, and she laughed a little when he could not get the last one. She turned and kissed him, pressing herself full against him, her small fingers coming to rest on his at the side of her breast. She unfastened the last hook and let her gown fall.

  He stepped back then to look at her, for he had dreamed of seeing her in just her shift and stays. The night before, he had had her out of her nightgown in a trice, as it had not interested him at all. But the underclothes Madame Celeste had provided had been made to be seen by a man. Robbie was not disappointed.