Willing Love

by Mary Jean Adams

  “Yes, you two dance together.” Celia took Evan by one hand and pulled him into the center of the room. “Lizzie, let Miss Prudence set you down so she can dance with the man.”

  Prudence seemed reluctant to let the child go. Elizabeth had to struggle a bit, but it was clear Celia’s commands were meant to be obeyed.

  In the end, Evan found himself in the center of the room with Prudence standing in front of him, clearly expecting him to comply with Celia’s wishes.

  “I don’t dance,” Evan said.

  The merriment on Prudence’s face dissolved.

  “Sure you do,” a girl with twin brown braids running down her back said. “Miss Prudence told us that all men dance. Isn’t that right, Miss Prudence?”

  Prudence flushed. “I suppose there are some men who don’t dance. Perhaps they don’t know how. Or perhaps they don’t enjoy dancing.”

  “That would be me,” the boy grumbled.

  “Oh, shut up, Peter.” Celia cast her brother a withering look that made him slump even further into the settee.

  Prudence gave the children a wan smile, and Evan felt like the worst sort of cad. Somehow, he had doused the candle that had burned brightly not a moment before. He salved his guilt with the truth.

  “That’s it. I don’t know how.” At least he didn’t know the steps of the Americanized dances being performed in the Sheridan’s ballroom. “I never had a teacher like Miss Prudence to help me learn,” he said, settling on a simpler answer he hoped the children would accept.

  Celia put her small fists on her nearly nonexistent hips. “You don’t look so tall after all. Miss Prudence can teach you while she teaches me. You will be my partner.”

  Evan almost laughed at the idea of learning to dance by partnering with a demanding six year old, but part of him was afraid to earn the little hellion’s wrath. “I think it’s actually time I collect Miss Prudence and return to the party with her.”

  His statement was met with collective groans and complaints from the children.

  “Yes, I think Mr. Evan is right,” Prudence said in a breathy voice. “I’ve been away far too long, and I really must return.”

  Prudence took Evan’s offered arm but had to drop it when Elizabeth ran up to her and held up her chubby, little arms. Prudence picked her up, closed her eyes, and gave the child a squeeze as though she might never see her again. After a long moment, she set her gently on her feet. Prudence returned her hand to the crook of Evan’s arm, and he escorted her back down the stairs and through the dark hallway.

  Prudence had been so cheerful dancing with the children. Now, he sensed an emptiness coming from her.

  Did she hate leaving the children that much? He longed to assure her that she would have her own someday, but since she still considered their marriage a business arrangement, he thought she might consider him a bit presumptuous.

  Still he couldn’t help but worry about the way she had simply faded before his eyes.

  “Is something amiss?” Evan asked just as they came to the door that would take them back into the light and crush of the crowded dance floor.

  “I’m just weary I suppose. Would you mind terribly if I asked you to escort me home?”

  “Of course.” Evan opened the door so she could precede him through.

  He almost bumped into her when she stopped. She seemed to be scanning the room for someone. But for whom? Before Evan could find his answer, Prudence started forward again, her eyes directed at her feet.

  Evan put a hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the foyer. If Prudence resented the assumed intimacy she didn’t show it. Besides, it was the safest way to get her through the crowd since she seemed reluctant to look up.

  What or who had gotten to her?

  Leaving Prudence standing by herself in the foyer, Evan left to ask a footman to find their wraps. He returned just in time to see a thin blond man sidle up to Prudence. The way his eyes darted about reminded Evan of a lizard.

  “Well, you’ve turned into quite the looker, haven’t you?” His voice even had a lizard-like hiss.

  “Hello, Simon. How nice to see you again.” Prudence’s words were as cold as the Atlantic in the spring, and she kept her gaze firmly planted on her feet.

  “I didn’t think you had it in you. In school, you were all brains and no beauty. Now look at you.” His eyes raked her from head to toe. “I think your grandmamma would have been better off sending you to finishing school where you might have learned how to be a woman.”

  Prudence’s chin shot up at the impertinent remark. Her face blanched when she saw Evan standing behind Simon. However, the fool was so engrossed in lodging insults, he didn’t notice her reaction.

  “Of course, I could teach you to be a woman.” He took a step forward and reached out his hand as though to stroke Prudence’s cheek.

  His hand never made it. In a flash, Evan had Simon by the back of the collar. He yanked him backward, and only Evan’s grip kept the man from stumbling.

  “Hello. I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,” Evan said as though he didn’t have a handful of Simon’s collar clutched in his fist.

  Simon’s pale features flushed crimson. “Just who the hell are you?”

  “I am Miss Ashcroft’s fiancé. And you?”

  Simon twisted and Evan let the man go.

  “I am Simon Manley, and you would do well to remember it.” Simon tugged his coat back in place.

  Evan almost smiled at the intricate silver embroidery that decorated every possible edge: along the tails, the hem, the cuffs, and even around each buttonhole. When they caught the candlelight, the delicate flower petals looked almost like snake scales. He could just imagine the man asking his tailor for a suit of clothes that accentuated his reptilian-like features.

  “Well, Mr. Manley, I can assure you, if I ever find you insulting my fiancée again, I will remember your name, although you might not live to regret it.”

  Leaving Simon huffing in the foyer, Evan grasped Prudence by the elbow and led her down the stairs to the waiting carriage.

  Once inside, he sat across from Prudence, his knees brushing hers in the small conveyance. Prudence tucked her knees to the side and turned her face to the window.

  “What on earth did you ever do to him?” Evan asked, his tone light.

  “Nothing much,” Prudence said, her voice flat. “I went to school with him is all.”

  “Let me guess. You got better marks?”

  Prudence nodded, and her lips twitched. “I did.”

  “In all your classes?”

  “Of course.” The carriage window reflected her tentative smile.

  Evan nudged her knee with his. “And at some point along the way, you probably beat him at a foot race, too. Am I right?”

  “Tree climbing,” Prudence said, her smile turning into a grin.

  “But that’s not all, is it?”

  “No.” Her grin dissolved.

  “What is it, Prudence?” Evan let his knee brush hers again, but this time in a reassuring manner, the way he might casually touch a troubled horse. Not demanding, just letting the beast know he was not a threat.

  “I broke his nose.” Her voice held neither remorse nor pride.

  “He deserved it,” Evan said. “I can’t tell you how much I wanted to take a swing at him. I’m glad one of us had the opportunity.”

  Evan waited, but Prudence’s smile didn’t return.

  “He’s wrong you know.”

  Prudence turned to face Evan. “About what?”

  “Something tells me you’ve always been beautiful, even as a child.”

  Prudence’s scoff sliced the air between them. “I’m afraid he’s not wrong. And he was lying about me turning into a looker. He just said that because he knew how much it would hurt me.”

  “Somehow, I doubt that. The way he looked at you told me he meant what he said. I don’t trust the man.”

  Prudence shook her head. “It doesn’t matt
er anyway.”

  “Why not?”

  She pierced Evan with her gaze. “I have money. Looks aren’t required. When we met on the cliff, I told you I could buy a husband. I proved it to you when you agreed to marry me.”

  Her words were sharp, and Evan bit back the urge to lash out with his own sharp words. In the pale moonlight, the pain already glistening in Prudence’s eyes stopped him.

  “I’m not marrying you for your money.”

  “Oh really? Am I supposed to believe you are marrying me for love?” Her harsh laughter told him how absurd she considered the possibility. “I suppose you’ve written sonnets to me but haven’t had the opportunity to send them. Or perhaps you’re growing roses out behind the stables. Maybe you’re just waiting for the right moment to pick them. Or maybe you’re even—”

  “Is that what you want? Sonnets? Roses?”

  “I’d settle for a dance,” Prudence said in a voice so low it barely registered.

  “A dance? You would accept that I am not marrying you for your money if I danced with you?”

  She pinned him with her eyes. “What kind of man would refuse to dance with his betrothed? I could have taught you a dance that didn’t even require a single touch.”

  Prudence gasped when Evan plucked her from her seat and settled her in his lap.

  “I don’t find the idea of touching you disagreeable,” he whispered against her ear. “I just don’t think the kind of dance I have in mind would have been suitable to perform in front of the children.”

  She whirled on him. “What is that sup—”

  Evan cut Prudence’s question off by claiming her lips.

  He expected her to pull back, to struggle off his lap and cower on her side of the carriage as soon as she realized what he had in mind.

  She didn’t.

  Evan softened the kiss. Her lips were soft and sweet, with a hint of fruitiness from the punch she had drunk as she introduced him to her many friends. He sucked on her lower lip, and Prudence giggled.

  Now that was a good sign.

  He pulled away to look into her eyes just as the carriage rumbled up the drive to Ashcroft manor. They were murky, with pupils so large they nearly concealed the dark ring of green around them.

  She slid off his lap when the carriage rolled to a stop. Evan opened the door and stepped down to help her out. Prudence stumbled on the first step, and Evan nearly had to catch her. The door to the manor opened behind him, and Evan hid a smile when he realized how close he had come to carrying his betrothed into the house for a third time.

  Instead, he handed her off to her maid and watched as she wobbled up the front steps. Did he have something to do with her inability to walk? He hoped so.

  A sudden understanding dawned on him. His fiancée wasn’t so unlike himself. He, too, had grown up with a sense of unworthiness, fostered by years of cruelty at the hands of those who were supposed to care for him. He had found refuge in the sea and discovered, quite by accident, something at which he excelled.

  Prudence had yet to find that at which she excelled. Unlike others of his sex, he didn’t think women existed only for the pleasure of men. Surely, most of them wanted to be good at something.

  Evan had also found people he cared about. Stu was more like a brother than a valet. And then there was his former captain, a man he looked up to as much as he might his own father, if he had one.

  While Prudence had at least one person who loved her, perhaps she had known cruelty, too. He had seen the way some of the men she introduced as former schoolmates looked at her. Their mocking disdain had his blood boiling, and more than once he had been moments away from issuing a challenge. Thankfully, those introductions had been few and far between.

  He stared at the door through which his fiancée had disappeared. Somehow, someway, he would convince her of her worth, a value that had nothing to do with the Ashcroft fortune. It was a task he looked forward to.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Evan arrived at the manor at precisely quarter to three. He had come as Prudence requested, but not exactly when she requested. She was within her rights to take him to task for the kiss, but he’d be damned if he would let her dictate all the terms of their courtship.

  Evan whisked off his hat, and Gil led him to a room at the back of the manor. He would have sworn the man gave him a wink before shutting the double doors behind him with a soft click.

  No, that was impossible. Even when they shared a pint and a meat pie in the manor’s kitchen, the man never cracked a smile.

  Evan surveyed the empty room while he waited for Prudence. It was a large rectangular affair with parquet floors and high ceilings. Sunlight shone through tall mullioned windows, bathing the walls in soft hues of lemon and cream. Chairs upholstered in red velvet were scattered about in small clusters, as though arranged for intimate conversation.

  Evan was no expert, but he suspected the room was used for small gatherings or perhaps music recitals.

  He tossed his hat onto one of the chairs. After what happened to his last hat, he considered retrieving it but then decided Prudence couldn’t possibly squash two of his best hats in one week.

  A pianoforte had been shoved into a corner, a piece of sheet music still propped open as though waiting for someone to return. Evan walked over to the instrument and tapped at a key. The tinny note echoed against the high ceilings.

  The soft swoosh of skirts sounded behind him, and he whirled around.

  “Mr. Evan… I hadn’t expected you to be here until four o’clock.” Prudence held a stack of sheet music in her hands.

  She seemed surprised to see him. Had Gil not announced his arrival?

  “I wasn’t free at four. I am now.”

  That wasn’t precisely true. While he promised Stu he would be at the stables at four to look over a new mare, he could have changed the appointment. However, he hadn’t cared for the way Prudence summoned him to the house instead of inviting him. The note she delivered to the stables even requested he wear clean boots.

  “But I’m not ready.” She strode to the pianoforte and set the sheet music on top.

  “Ready for what?”

  She looked as though she were ready for a quiet afternoon at home. She wore a muslin gown of soft cream and green stripes. Flowers he guessed to be violets lined the hem and trailed down the front of her bodice. Her neckerchief was plain with just a narrow trimming of lace. She had tied her auburn curls in a ribbon of periwinkle blue that matched the flowers in her dress. One tress escaped its prison and curled about her ear. Had he not known she was the lady of the house, he might have mistaken her for a young governess.

  “I… ah…” Prudence glanced at the door.

  “Are you expecting someone else?”

  She returned a steadied gaze to Evan. “Yes, I am.”

  “Who?”

  The last time she summoned him to the house it had been to propose to him in front of her solicitor. Did she now plan to break the proposal in front of the same witness? If she thought she would get out of their arrangement that easily…

  “The musicians.”

  Had her voice trembled?

  “Musicians? Are we having an impromptu ball? I told you I don’t dance. Or at least not the kind of dancing that requires musicians.”

  “I know. That’s what the musicians are for. I plan to teach you.” Prudence folded her hands in front of her waist, making her look even more like a prim governess than before.

  Evan found the look rather enticing. Like a naughty schoolboy, he considered the many ways he might get her to lose that calm demeanor.

  “And I take it they aren’t to arrive until four.”

  “Well, half past, actually. I invited you for four o’clock so we might have a chance to have some tea and get to know each other better.”

  “Before we dance, so to speak.”

  Prudence flushed, but she ignored Evan’s innuendo. “We’ll just have to have tea now.”

  “I’m afraid I
can’t wait. I have to meet someone at the stables at four,” Evan said, eager to see how Prudence would react to his disrupting her carefully laid plans.

  “Oh, but that’s only an hour from now.” Her disappointment made her look even younger, but she recovered quickly. “Oh well, I guess it can’t be helped.”

  “I’m glad you see it that way.” He started toward his hat.

  “I will just have to teach you to dance without music.” She grabbed his hand and led him to the middle of the floor. “You stand here.” Prudence stationed Evan in one spot, before backing up three or four paces. “I will hum the tune. Are you ready?”

  “I don’t seem to have a choice,” Evan said.

  Despite himself, he was eager to see how Prudence would manage without the musicians.

  Prudence scrunched her lips to one side. “I suppose we should start with a minuet, and then we can move on to something more complicated.

  Prudence hummed a few notes that left something to be desired musically speaking and held out her hand. Evan grasped it, and the last note ended with a squeak.

  “No, no, no. Lightly. Pretend I’m something delicate like a teacup, not the handle of a bucket.”

  Evan loosened his grip.

  “That’s better. Now you bow and I curtsy.”

  Evan bowed low while Prudence dipped her knees and bowed her head.

  “Ba…bum,bum,bum…4, 5…” Prudence half-hummed, half spoke the tune, making Evan almost wish they might dance in silence.

  “Now what?” Evan asked when they were both straight again.

  “Now we promenade in a sort of an arc.” She waved her hand as though the concept of an arc might be difficult for him to grasp.

  “Promenade?” It wasn’t the geometrical concept that had him concerned.

  “Yes, promenade, as in walk. Like this.” Prudence led him in a small arc, but whereas she took several mincing steps while she hummed her tune, he covered the distance in two giant strides so that his “arc” looked more like a square angle.

  “No, you have to take smaller steps. Like a prance.” She demonstrated a small stuttering step that looked almost like a skip.

  “Prance?” Evan cocked an eyebrow. He fought back a grin. “I do not prance.”