“And so will I!” Lydia crowed from in front of them.
“You’re not courting her, I am.”
“I wasn’t asking you.”
“You didn’t ask anyone.”
Prue felt her lips curve into a smile as her heart pounded a joyful cadence against her chest. It was the best night at the opera she’d ever had as well, and there wasn’t an easy way to express that. So, she would just smile and enjoy it, hoping that this would be a turning point for her and whatever future lay before her.
Chapter Fourteen
What could be better than a small, intimate gathering of friends? That, dear readers, would depend entirely on the friends invited, the weather of the day, and the gossip of the time. There are no certainties with friends.
-The Spinster Chronicles, 28 March 1817
“Mr. Vale, would you escort me in, please?”
“As you can see, Miss Howard, I already have Mrs. Westfall and Miss Westfall on my arms. I do not have a third arm, alas.”
“Oh, Prudence doesn’t mind walking in on her own, do you, dear?”
Camden looked at the infernal blonde with all the patience he could muster, which was not much at all. “I already have her arm, Miss Howard, and it would be ungentlemanly of me to release it.”
Miss Howard threw her head back and laughed merrily, though it sounded more like an evil cackle to his ears. “But you are no gentleman, Mr. Vale. Surely you don’t adhere to such archaic statutes.”
He ground his teeth together and tried for a smile, grateful the door was before them now. “I do try, Miss Howard, and it does me good.”
Prue’s hold on his arm tightened, but she said nothing.
Miss Howard laughed again, and she swept through the door before he or the ladies on his arm did, and he scowled after her.
“Such a lovely, high-strung girl,” Mrs. Westfall said with a fond sigh. She rapped Camden’s arm with her fan. “She’d make you a good wife, Mr. Vale.”
Camden stared at her retreating figure as she entered the house and looked down at Prue in revulsion. “Is she trying to pair me with your cousin while I’m courting you?”
Prue shrugged a shoulder, not looking particularly surprised. “Mother is set on Mr. Davies for me. She said as much before you arrived. You are currently an obstacle.”
“How unfortunate for you,” he muttered, gesturing for her to enter ahead of him.
“Isn’t it just?” she replied, shaking out her pale blue pelisse a little. “Georgie is never going to forgive me for…”
“WHY ARE THEY HERE?” came the indignant screech of their hostess.
Prue winced and looked up as the fair-haired Georgie Sterling approached them, eyes wild.
“Prue!” Georgie exclaimed, waving a hand in the direction Prue’s family had just gone. “My first event? Really?”
Prue shook her head morosely. “I tried, Georgie. I really tried. They just… don’t listen to me.”
Camden grunted and removed his hat as he bowed to Georgie. “I can vouch for that, Mrs. Sterling. They just tried to match me up with Eliza despite the fact that I’m already courting Prue.” He shuddered and tried not to gag.
Georgie gave him a sympathetic look. “Poor man. I’ll have Tony get you something stronger to drink.” She turned to Prue and shook her head, sighing, then reached for her hands. “Well, I forgive you, especially since my dunce of a husband invited Hugh, as well.” She rolled her eyes, took Prue’s arm, and pulled her along. “Come on, it’s not a garden party unless you’re in the garden, I’m told.”
Camden chuckled and followed them through the house, marveling that Georgie could look at him without twitching already. After that encounter with her husband the other night, it seemed an uneasy truce had been established, and a tremulous alliance was now in place. He might not be on warm terms with the Spinsters, but they were not excluding or cutting him either.
Small mercies.
For all the slow progress he was making here, Prue was taking Camden’s life by storm. Lydia absolutely adored her and was fully set on adopting her as soon as she could find a way to accomplish it. She spoke of nothing else when Camden saw her, and no longer seemed interested in anything he had to say unless the subject was Prue.
It was endearing, he would admit, but he could have done without her gabbing about her to his friends, with whom she was unfortunately also friends, and now they would not stop talking about Prue, either. He wanted her to know them better, to be sure, but with this increasing fervor about her, they would overwhelm her with enthusiasm, and she would be far too embarrassed to make any coherent response.
She wouldn’t care for that at all, and he had to defer to her wishes and comfort in all of this.
Whatever this was.
He’d loved taking her to the opera, loved spending time with her out in public, loved that she admitted to Tony Sterling that she trusted him… It had meant more to him than anything in recent memory had, and his delight had been unending. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve such a woman in his life, but he wasn’t about to give that up.
And she’d looked beautiful beyond description.
He’d complimented her without thinking, belatedly recalling how compliments affected her, but feeling strongly that he had to say something. Some small part of what he felt, what she did to him, how he… Well, there simply were not words. She was the description, picture, and ideal of loveliness, and that was all there was to it.
The fact that her shy smiles were beginning to make his knees unsteady, and her soft eyes set his heart aflame, and the sound of her laugh gave him wings, was just an extension of that truth.
He cleared his throat now as they moved out to the garden where the other guests were milling about. He grunted to himself at the suddenly interested expressions at least half a dozen men cast in Prue’s direction, and, after taking in their identities, felt no qualms about striding forward to offer Prue his arm as they descended the few stairs. A bit of a protective glare wouldn’t hurt either, he considered, as he did so.
“Oh, good, the goat’s here.”
Camden slowly turned to look at the whelp nearby with too-coifed hair. “I beg your pardon, sir?” Camden growled.
Prue’s hand tightened on him. “C-cam…”
That stammer of apprehension made his fingers curl.
“How many more sad spinsters are you inviting, Georgie?” the man asked as he stared at Prue steadily, oblivious to Cam’s fury or Prue’s distress. “Going to pair them all off?”
Georgie snarled audibly, which Camden nearly applauded at. “If you have a problem with my guests, Hugh Sterling, no matter their marital status, you can show yourself out. Lord knows I would never have invited you.”
Prue tugged at Camden’s arm, her face flaming.
“I demand an apology, sir,” Camden told him, not moving from his position.
Sterling looked at him with mild surprise. “Why?”
“Two counts,” Camden growled. “Insulting Miss Westfall and being rude to Mrs. Sterling.”
“I’m Mrs. Sterling’s cousin,” the idiot replied smugly, taking another glass of wine from the table.
“A point I am sure she weighed very seriously against accepting her husband’s offer,” Camden replied. “He must be an incomparable catch to ensure a lifetime of being tied to you. She must have spent ages in despair over the prospect. Alas for love matches, no one would have accepted you as a relation for convenience alone.”
At least two people nearby snickered, but Prue was not one of them. She pulled on his arm again. “C-cam.”
“Still waiting on the apology, Sterling,” Camden told him, smiling blandly.
Sterling’s eyes narrowed. “Or what?”
Camden’s smile turned devious. “That is my very favorite question to answer.”
Prue pulled on him harder. “Cam!”
He listened this time and went where she pulled, leaving a wide-eyed Hugh Sterling standing in his plac
e, staring after them.
“Sorry,” he mumbled to Prue, rubbing her hand. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
She shook her head quickly. “Not you. Just… the s-situation.”
He nodded and took her over to Lady Hetty, who had watched the exchange with interest. “I couldn’t hear what all that was about,” she croaked, reaching out a hand for Prue but looking at Camden. “I insist on knowing.”
“I’ll tell it!” declared another voice behind him, decidedly feminine and decidedly amused.
He turned to see a tall woman in elegant clothing, too attractive for her years, and in possession of very bright blue eyes. She grinned at him easily, as though they were old friends. He turned to face her, unwittingly amused himself.
“Miranda Sterling,” Prue intoned softly, a hint of a smile on her lips, “may I present Mr. Camden Vale? Cam, this is Mrs. Sterling. She’s Tony’s stepmother.”
Camden bowed but sighed aloud. “How many dashed Sterlings are there?”
Mrs. Sterling chuckled and patted his arm. “I’m the only one really worth knowing, Mr. Vale, aside from my stepsons. They’re fair enough, but that one over there drags us all down. Lord knows why. His brother is charming.”
“There’s more?” Camden protested, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”
“Rather a fertile lot, the Sterlings,” she replied. “Present company excluded.” She reached a lace-gloved hand out to Prue, who took it at once. “Darling Prue, how are you, dear? You’re flushed, but you mustn’t let Hugh’s bleating trouble you. No matter what he says, he’s more goat than you could ever be accused of being. I should know, there are goats on my estate.”
Camden liked this woman at once and grinned at Prue’s shy smile.
“Thank you, Miranda,” Prue replied.
Mrs. Sterling paused, sniffed the air, then turned around, glowering. “Lord above, I thought I smelled a rat. Who invited your cousin, Prue?”
Camden’s grin couldn’t have grown any further, but he wished it were possible. “Mrs. Sterling, you are a woman after my own heart.”
She looked at him in surprise. “Charmed, my dear, but Prue should be that. I’m only impudent. Call me Miranda and let us be friends.”
He inclined his head. “Delighted, Miranda. You may call me whatever you like.”
Miranda smiled mischievously. “Oh, you are a rascally one. I may have you take my hound for a hunt one of these days just to test the pair of you together.”
Camden shrugged easily and took up position against a tree near the group. “If you like. Hounds tend to like me.”
“Rufus likes everyone,” Tony informed him as he and Georgie approached. “That won’t signify anything.”
Miranda sniffed haughtily. “He’s not that fond of you, dear.”
Tony rolled his eyes and gave Camden a grim look. “I heard about your interaction with my cousin just now. I cannot apologize enough. I’d hoped he would behave himself, but…”
“I wasn’t the one he offended,” Camden said with a shake of his head. “He refused to apologize for his words, either.” He glanced down at Prue, who was suddenly very interested in her gloves.
“Thank you for defending Georgie, too,” Tony murmured, looking at Prue as well. “Especially given that we weren’t exactly pleased with this connection of yours.”
Camden chuckled drily. “I’d have reservations about me, too. But for my respect for you both, I’d have called Sterling out for what he’d said.”
“Ah, yes,” Tony replied with interest. “I’d heard that you are something of a fighter. That would have been a fine sight.”
“Not that fine,” Georgie snorted, giving the other ladies an incredulous look. “It’s a garden party.”
Tony groaned as if in agony. “You ladies have no idea what we men endure for your finery.”
“Yes, we feel quite ashamed of ourselves,” his wife replied, obviously anything but.
“You wouldn’t really have fought Hugh, would you?” Prue asked as she looked up at Camden, eyes wide.
He returned her look firmly. “I most certainly would. He deserves a good thrashing. I still might do so.”
Prue’s eyes widened further, and she looked at Tony and Georgie. “He wouldn’t.”
“He would,” Tony and Camden said together.
She fidgeted in her seat. “But it’s Tony’s house and Tony’s cousin.”
Camden looked at Tony, his expression hopeful. “Do you mind, Captain Sterling?”
Tony shook his head. “Not at all, I welcome it. Please, feel free.”
Georgie cleared her throat meaningfully.
“Ah, but perhaps after the guests have left,” Tony clarified, looked at Georgie again, then added, “and don’t cause any damage.”
They nodded at the group and moved on to other guests.
“Not much fondness between cousins, I take it,” Camden commented as he watched them go.
Prue shook her head. “Tony hasn’t forgiven Hugh for what he almost did to the relationship between him and Georgie.”
Camden made a soft noise of understanding. “Has Hugh asked for forgiveness?”
“No.”
He smiled at Prue rather easily. “Then I see no need for Sterling to oblige him there.”
Her brow furrowed in exasperation, but whatever retort she would have offered was lost as the rest of the Spinsters arrived and greeted them all, Camden with wariness.
He didn’t mind. He fixed his attention on Hugh Sterling on the far side of the garden and prayed for any additional excuse.
She was alone for the moment, and oddly glad for the reprieve.
Sometimes all one needs is peace and time to oneself.
She’d had so little of that lately. Not that she wasn’t grateful for Camden’s devoted attention and the Spinsters keeping her company, but she’d always had moments of reflection and calm before all of this, and she yearned for it. She missed not having to be on display constantly, and not having her mother and cousin interrupt everything private and personal in her life. She missed her independence, which she ought to have gained with her fortune but had lost instead.
Prue sighed and closed her eyes, tilting her head back a little into the sun, letting it warm her.
“Miss Westfall, would you mind very much if I sat beside you?”
She bit back a sigh and opened her eyes, surprised to see Mr. Davies there, a hesitant smile on his face.
“Not at all,” Prue answered, surprising herself. She indicated the seat, and he sat with a smile, putting his hat into his lap.
“Thank you,” he replied, still smiling. “I’ve hardly seen you since our time together at Tinley. You’re always so surrounded.”
Prue grimaced slightly, “Rather too surrounded for my taste.”
“I can imagine so.” His expression turned sympathetic. “And I remember Tinley not being a particularly enjoyable experience for you.”
“Not through any fault of yours,” Prue assured him at once. “Nor your mother. You were both very kind and should not feel any guilt for my discomfort.”
He nodded gratefully. “You are very good to say so.”
Prue smiled at him a little. “I understand you were of great importance to the smoothing over of my embarrassment that final night. Mr. Vale said you made a spectacle of yourself as a distraction.”
Mr. Davies chuckled sheepishly and nodded. “I did, and it was prodigious fun. I’m not one for acting for attention normally, but it seemed as good a reason as any to do so.”
“Well, I am exceedingly grateful,” Prue told him as she laced her fingers together in her lap. “You can’t imagine how much.”
He seemed to color a little and glanced over to where Camden stood in discussion with Tony’s friend, Lieutenant Henshaw. “Vale’s a good sort of chap. A bit coarse, but nothing too outlandish. It’s a wonder his reputation does him so little credit. I didn’t mind doing as he asked, considering it was for you.” He looked back at P
rue curiously. “He is rather protective of you, Miss Westfall. Like a brother to watch over you, eh?”
Something like that. Unease clenched at her stomach, but Prue only smiled again. “He has been very kind as well.”
There was no need to go into all that.
Mr. Davies’ eyes suddenly narrowed, and his smile turned curious. “Pardon me saying so, Miss Westfall, but your… your speech seems much improved on closer acquaintance. Not so much trouble, if you’ll forgive me.”
She smiled further at his observation and the innocent wonder at it. “It tends to do that, Mr. Davies. Only crowds and attention heighten my anxieties, and with that comes the difficulty. I usually do quite well in private.”
His smile spread, and he opened his mouth to speak again when a laugh nearby distracted them.
“Oh, Mr. Davies,” Eliza exclaimed, trotting over to him. “You aren’t disturbing my cousin’s solitary reverie, are you? You know she must collect herself in order to converse at all. Soaks up the solitude like a plant in the sun.”
Eliza’s dark eyes glinted at Prue as she laughed, and Prue’s cheeks colored.
“I didn’t mean to disturb,” Mr. Davies said, looking worried.
“You d-didn’t,” Prue tried to tell him, wincing as she stammered.
“Oh dear, she’s overcome now,” Eliza sighed, shaking her head dramatically. “Poor, simple girl, now she’ll be babbling for hours. And poor Mr. Davies trying to be so polite. Truly, sir, it is not worth the effort.”
Mr. Davies frowned and fidgeted with his hat. “Oh, but I…”
“Dear Prudence needs to collect herself, sir,” Eliza insisted, gesturing for him to come. “She’s already turning a frightful shade. Just look at it. Have you ever seen such a shade? Poor thing, she is so embarrassed about it, and it only gets worse and worse.”
As if determined to make the situation worse, Prue’s face flamed further still, and her hands began to shake.
“Miss Westfall?” Mr. Davies prodded as he rose, looking concerned.
The Spinster and I (The Spinster Chronicles, Book 2) Page 18