A Countess of Convenience

by Sarah Winn

  Moving inside the stall, Prudence rather gently pulled the brush along Madge's back.

  “Bare down,” he called to her as he went for Thor's saddle. “Horses enjoy being curried.”

  She focused her attention on the task, using more force and making longer strokes. Malvern watched her expression grow more intent as she warmed to her work. It was soon obvious that she wasn't just scratching the horse's back, but also grooming the animal by sweeping away bits of straw. Color flooded her cheeks from the exertion, and a ribbon of golden hair escaped from her upswept hairdo to tickle her cheek.

  He was about to tell her not to work so hard, that someone else would actually groom the horse, but as Prudence moved to curry Madge's rear flank, the horse suddenly shifted, it's large rump pushing and trapping Prudence against the side of the stall. With a small cry of alarm, she looked to Malvern for assistance.

  He couldn't stop from chuckling over her surprised expression. “Just push her away.”

  She pushed hesitantly and then with more force. The horse didn't budge. Finally, she pushed with one hand and slapped with the other and Madge obligingly moved over. To Malvern's surprise, Prudence laughed. “Wilbur used to do things like that.”

  “Wilbur?”

  “Our pony. I had to be careful when I harnessed him, or he'd step on my toes. I was almost sure he did it on purpose.” She walked toward the front of the stall, paused, and threw one arm around Madge's neck. “Still and all, he was a good pony, just like this old horse.”

  She pressed her cheek against the horse's neck as she hugged it. “I'd forgotten how much I missed that pony.”

  “What happened to it?” he asked, suddenly thinking it had been wrong to separate the girl from her pet.

  She released Madge and assumed a more dignified stance. “Uncle Horace sold him along with Primrose Cottage.”

  “That was your home?”

  “Yes. I knew after Mother died that I couldn't live there alone; still, it shocked me to no longer have a home of my own.”

  “Now that you're the Countess of Malvern, you'll never have to worry about that again.”

  She stepped out of the stall and handed him the currying comb, her expression suddenly serious. “Then why am I worried about where I'll live after this week?”

  “Do you like Malvern Hall?”

  Her expression brightened. “Oh, very much, but it's your mother's home.”

  “It's the traditional home of the Earl of Malvern. Technically, the management of it falls to the current countess, but since mother has pretty much run the entire estate all these years, I'm hoping the two of you could come to some sort of compromise.”

  “I'll be perfectly happy to live there and let her go on running things, but what does she think about it?”

  After putting the comb back on its shelf, he tucked her arm through his and strolled out of the stable. “When I spoke to her, she seemed to think the two of you would get along well together. But you should insist on making some changes, just to let her know you are a countess too.”

  “Malvern Hall is perfect just the way it is. I wouldn't want to change a thing.” After a short pause, she continued. “Except, I do miss the garden we had a Primrose Cottage. It was rather small, but we had a lot of different flowers all massed together. Something bloomed all summer. It was very colorful.”

  “I don't see why you couldn't get the gardener to do something like that.”

  She shook her head. “The gardens at Malvern Hall are so formal. I wouldn't want to spoil them.”

  Malvern patted her hand that rested on his arm. “Talk it over with Mother. I'm sure she'll come up with an out-of-the-way space you can use. If you have any problems, I'll look into it for you.”

  She smiled her appreciation up at him.

  He smiled back. This was just the sort of tempest-in-a-teapot type of problem he'd expected from a wife and he had handled it with aplomb. Perhaps being married wouldn't be such a bother after all. Not with a compliant wife like Prudence.

  He saw her back to the cottage and then took Thor out for a brisk ride. When he returned, Malvern found the house still bustling with servants, so he suggested a picnic lunch for Prudence and himself.

  Prudence had been delighted when Malvern suggested a picnic in the woods. Since leaving her mother's home, she'd had no opportunity to tramp through woodlands. However, as they walked along a rather indistinct path, she soon had to stop admiring the glories of nature and pay strict attention to keeping her walking skirt from getting caught on brambles and branches.

  Malvern led the way, but he carried the food basket and a blanket, so he was somewhat limited in his ability to clear the path for her. She finally asked, “Where are we going?”

  “To my favorite spot in the woods. But I didn't realize how difficult the path would be for a woman. Do you want to turn back?”

  She liked the idea of being the first woman to share his favorite spot. “This isn't so bad.”

  He released the branch a bit prematurely and it sprang forward, knocking Prudence's straw hat to one side. “Oh, I'm sorry.” He moved closer and tried to help her as she struggled to right the hat and re-pin it in the proper position. “We should go back,” he said, but seemed disappointed.

  “Is your favorite spot much further?”

  “Another five minutes or so.”

  “If we're that close it would be a shame to turn back.”

  He nodded and moved forward, but this time more slowly, making sure Prudence was very close, so his body would protect her from jutting brush. She hadn't felt so protected since—since her father was alive.

  Finally she heard the trickle of water and the path widened into a small clearing. A stream ran though this part of the forest and a depression in the land had formed a pool. Shafts of sunlight filtered through the openings in the trees and dappled silver on the surface of the water. “What do you think?” he asked.

  “It's beautiful,” she replied, surprised that such an urbane man would have special feelings for this simple natural setting.

  He spread the blanket on the grassy bank. “We can eat here. Later we can go exploring, or if we sit very quietly, we might see some wild creature come to the pool to drink.”

  She joined him on the blanket and took charge of unloading the basket. They concentrated on the food, saying little. Aside from the birds chattering in the trees, it was very quiet. A curious thrush finally flew closer to investigate the interlopers in his domain.

  Malvern pinched a crumb of bread from his sandwich and threw it at him. With a flutter of alarm, the bird flew away but soon came back to investigate the crumb. In no time, two thrushes and half-dozen sparrows were squabbling over crumbs that Malvern and Prudence threw.

  He leaned back, propping on one elbow, so that he was very close to her. They laughed at the way the sparrows darted in to steal crumbs from the larger birds. When they grew tired of watching the birds, it seemed only natural for him to shift until his head came down in her lap. She looked down at him and smiled.

  He reached up to brush an errant tendril of hair behind her ear. “Why don't you take your hat off, Countess, and stay for a while?”

  She tried to effect a stern expression. “It wouldn't be proper for a countess to be seen in public without a head covering.”

  With a sweeping gesture, he said, “I would hardly call this public. There's no one here but us—and the birds.” He reached up and unbuttoned the top button to her jacket. “In fact, you could get a lot more comfortable.”

  Remembering how he'd made her comfortable the night before, she slapped his hand from the second button. “Don't think of starting something here. We're out-of-doors. Anyone might come by.”

  “This is private land. No one is allowed to come here.”

  She looked at him skeptically. “What about the tenants or poachers?”

  He shrugged, “The chances are so slight—”

  She interrupted him with an impatient flutter of her han
d. “Any chance at all is too risky for me.”

  A wicked gleam came into his eyes. “An element of risk adds spice to life.”

  “You yourself said I must maintain the proper demeanor of the Countess of Malvern.”

  “As long as you do it with me, anything you do is proper.” He placed his hand behind her neck and started pulling her down. When she resisted, he levered himself up and met her halfway. His lips lightly nibbled at hers.

  “Please don't do this,” she whispered into his mouth.

  He released her and sat up, irritation flickering across his face. “Don't do what?”

  “Don't make me do something I don't want to.”

  Now he looked truly offended. “I am a gentleman. I never use force with a woman.”

  “I know you'd never use force, but you can make me want to do things when I shouldn't want to.”

  Her reply seemed to amuse him. “Oh, I can, can I?” With a few deft moves, he pulled the pins from her hat, and tossed it onto the blanket. “Well, right now I want you to relax.” Lying back against the blanket, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled down until her head rested against his shoulder. “And you'll have to accept the sad fact that every time I touch you, I don't intend to have my way with you. Unfortunately, I lack my sire's stamina.”

  It took her a moment to understand what he meant. When it finally dawned on her, she blurted out, “Surely you don't want to be like your father.”

  “Sometimes it isn't a matter of what we want. Haven't you ever heard the saying, ‘the acorn never falls far from the oak'?”

  She toyed with the watch fob that hung out of his vest pocket. Realizing she had stumbled into a sensitive area for him, Prudence chose her words carefully. “I don't think that is necessarily so. I'm quite different from my mother. She was helpless and frightened after my father's death. I didn't want to be like that.”

  “And yet you married me for my protection.”

  “Well—ah—women—ladies have no choice but to seek a husband's protection, but I don't intend to be a burden on you. I intend to do my share to make this marriage work.”

  He cupped her cheek and turned her face up to his. “Isn't seeing to his physical needs the most important thing a wife can do for her husband?”

  Prudence stared up at him speechlessly. Did that mean she never had the right to say no, even when her modesty screamed out against what he wanted to do?

  He leaned forward and kissed her—a languid kiss that grew in intensity as his tongue moved into her mouth with a slow rhythm. Little prickles of fire started to move through her body, and she turned so she could press her breasts into his chest. His hands roamed across her back until one reached her bottom and pulled her lower body tightly against his. Her arms instinctively gripped the sides of his body.

  Suddenly he pushed her away—onto her back so her head rested on his arm. “Let's relax and look at that beautiful blue sky.”

  She glanced over at him in disbelief.

  The corners of his mouth twitched as he fought a mischievous grin.

  “You just had to prove you could arouse me, didn't you?”

  Through a burst of laughter, he said, “Yes!”

  She thought his answer quite arrogant, but she smiled a bit, for even though he could have overcome her objections to out-of-doors intimacy, he had chosen to respect her wishes.

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  * * *

  Chapter 9

  The next morning, knowing she could put it off no longer, Prudence agreed to have her first riding lesson. Malvern rolled an old stump in place so she could use it as a mounting block. Still, he practically lifted her onto the horse. After making sure her knee was securely around the post of her sidesaddle, he held the bridle while slowly leading the horse across the stable yard. He lectured her on the details of how to hold the reins and use them to communicate with her horse. Finally, he released the bridle, but continued to walk beside her, still advising and correcting.

  As Prudence overcame her insecurity over being so far above the ground, she grew increasingly aware of Malvern's hovering attention. She had come into this marriage expecting him to be an uncaring, absentee husband. His apparent concern from her welfare surprised her. Then she reminded herself that her poor riding skills would reflect badly on the Malvern name. Most likely, that was his primary concern.

  She grew more comfortable on the horse, began to remember her long ago riding lessons, and became impatient with his caution. “I know,” she told him several times.

  Finally she flicked the reins and lightly kicked Madge into a canter toward the roadway. With a cry of alarm, Malvern ran to mount his horse and was soon beside her. By then, Prudence's backside had bounced so heavily against the saddle that she had reined Madge back to a sedate walk.

  They spent the next half-hour going from walks to brief canters as she practiced bracing herself by gripping the post with her knee and pressing the other foot against the stirrup. Malvern's large, black stallion grew restive over the constant sawing on his reins, so Malvern returned her safely to the lodge and then took Thor for a brisk run.

  Once Prudence led Madge back to her stall, Clarence removed the saddle, and Prudence took her time grooming the gentle beast. Malvern soon returned and began to curry Thor. Prudence liked having her husband working beside her. Here in the stable, he no longer seemed the grand lord, but just an ordinary man. A man Prudence found herself liking more and more.

  Rain began to fall just as they left the stable, so they hurried back to the lodge and into a flurry of activity. The extra servants rushed to finish their work so they could leave before the road became too muddy. As soon as lunch had been laid out, Malvern encouraged them to go, saying they could manage perfectly well with only Annie and Clarence.

  Prudence actually felt relieved when Janie and Victor and the footman and housemaid left. The cottage was quieter and she felt closer to her husband.

  After the table was cleared and Annie and Clarence retreated to wherever they disappeared to, Prudence stood and stared out the front window at the steady steams of water already dripping from the thatched roof. Malvern came to stand behind her.

  She looked up at him. “What shall we do this afternoon?”

  A mischievous grin pulled at his lips. “We could retire to the bedroom for an afternoon nap.”

  She turned back to the window. “I'm not the least bit sleepy.”

  He slipped his arms around her waist. “If we don't fall asleep, we can find other ways to amuse ourselves.”

  Prudence still found the idea of making love in the broad daylight somehow wicked. “Isn't there something we can enjoy doing together outside the bedroom?”

  He leaned down so his breath brushed against her ear as he spoke. “I'm perfectly willing to use any other room you suggest.”

  She gasped at his implications and pushed away from him. Moving toward the center of the room, she pointed at the table near the fireplace. “I saw some cards in that drawer. Couldn't we play something?”

  With a disappointed look, he shrugged. “What games do you know?”

  “I learned whist while at Aunt Agatha's but that requires four people. How about Beggar My Neighbor?”

  Malvern grimaced. “That's a child's game. Have you ever played piquet?”

  She shook her head.

  “It isn't difficult. I'll teach you.”

  Prudence found holding the twelve-card hand he dealt cumbersome. Then he asked if she could match the points in his highest suit and explained that she must count the pips of her cards in that suit. She didn't understand and tried to show him her cards. He said that would spoil the game, so he slowly explained again what she must do. Still confused, Prudence stared at him with a frown.

  With a sign of impatience, he said, “How about Vingt-et-un. You can count to twenty-one, can't you?”

  She nodded curtly to that offensive question and put all her concentration to understanding his explanation of the ne
w game. Once she learned the value of the different cards, it was quite simple. After a few rounds, she began to make decisions more quickly and Malvern warmed to the play. He obviously enjoyed winning even in a simple game against a novice opponent.

  His desire to win nudged him into taking chances to get nearer to the desired twenty-one points. When Prudence had a jack and a five, she refused another card. Malvern, who had an eight and a six, drew a ten.

  “Ha! I win,” Prudence said.

  “You play much too conservatively.”

  “But I won!”

  “That was just luck,” he said.

  She was enjoying this chance to twit his pride. “Yes, good luck for me and bad for you.”

  He huffed impatiently. “You must consider the odds.” He launched into an explanation of how many cards are in a deck and how many of them have values below ten. “So you see,” he concluded, “I had a greater chance of drawing a lower card.”

  She grinned at him impishly. “But you didn't.”

  He smiled reluctantly. “That was luck. Perhaps we can make the game more interesting by betting on the outcome of the hands.”

  A wave of disapproval tarnished her pleasure. “I don't gamble. Besides, I have no money.”

  “We could bet other things.”

  “Such as?”

  “Articles of clothing.”

  She tsked at him. “Can you think of nothing else?”

  He chuckled. “I'm beginning to think your name has a great influence over you. Perhaps if I call you Vixen, you won't be so prudish.”

  “I am not a prude,” she said, her temper rising. “But people must conduct themselves with decorum or our civilization would degenerate into bestiality.”

  He chuckled. “Where did you hear all of those big words?”

  “In church.” She gave her head a satisfied nod.

  As he dealt the next round, he said, “Now that you're married, Prudence, you don't have to worry so much about doing what's proper. At least, not with me. That may be one of the few benefits of marriage. With a mate you can be who you really want to be.”