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The older woman drew herself to her modest height and said sharply, as imperious as a queen, “Lord Wycliffe, what are you doing with my niece?”
Unfortunately, her voice carried. Quite deliberately. The glint in her eyes was calculating, and, for whatever reason, she was gambling on his honor. Prue turned her face into his shoulder, but from the shaking of her shoulders, he could tell that she had added up the consequences as quickly as he had. His reputation might survive—he was an earl, after all—but hers was in as poor a shape as her dress. Oscar could tell the truth. Leave the poor girl ruined, even more on the fringes of polite society than she already was. But that would be a very dishonorable thing to do, and the old biddy was hoping for that very reasoning to enter his head. He was bloody annoyed with the machinations of those caught up in the matrimonial fervor. It did not matter to them that marriage should be a beautiful union filled with comfort and respect. He was almost tempted to drop the delightful bundle in his arms on her buttocks, walk away and damn it all.
“Oh, God, I am going to be ruined,” she whispered in the crook of his neck, clearly stricken. “Please help me to explain—"
“Shh,” he crooned, not understating the fierce urge that rose inside of him. “I’ll protect you.”
She jerked her face from his throat and tried to slither down. “I do not need you to rescue me!”
Oscar tightened his grip. “Pray recall that your ankle is hurt, miss.”
He needed money to fix his estate, and this lady’s family clearly wanted to net a title. A mutually beneficial agreement. Tightly, he said, “Forgive the impropriety, madam. I was having a moment alone with my intended when she fell and twisted her ankle. I had no choice but to take her into my arms.”
The woman arched her brow, a hand fluttering to her chest. “Intended?”
Prue’s sister stared with mouth agape. “You’re going to marry her?”
She sounded shockedanddelighted.
Without looking down at the young woman in his arms who sounded as if she were choking, Oscar said, “Yes.”
But he would be damned if he touched the girl before she became a woman, wife or not.
3 weeks later…
She was no longerPrue Merriweather but Lady Prudence Campbell, Countess of Wycliffe. The vicar had declared so, just a few hours ago. The wedding breakfast had finally ended, and the few guests who had attended their marriage at Fairfax Manor, the earl’s principal estate in Hertfordshire, made their way back to their own homes.
Prue had escaped the elegantly decorated dining hall a few minutes ago and now sat on a bench in the lovely eastern gardens. The estate was grander than any home she had ever seen, and she was now its mistress. Nerves cramped her, and she pressed a gloved hand over her mouth. She would be expected to manage this grand household and acquit herself well. Then she would have to bear the earl his heir and spare rather quickly, as per the advice of the dowager countess earlier this morning. It was clear to Prue that her husband’s mother did not approve of her, something about her connections not being what she wanted for their family. Still, the dowager countess and his sisters had been polite as they welcomed her into the family.
Her mother had also cornered Prue an hour ago to inform her that tonight, doing her duty might seem frightening, but it can be pleasant if she relaxed. That cryptic message had been haunting her. What duty must she perform that could be perceived as frightening? Those questions had only caused her mama to lift her chin and walk away.
A rustle of sound had Prue whirling around. She blew out a sharp breath when her sister came into view. “I thought you were Wycliffe.”
Even though she was not sure the earl would come looking for his new bride. He had barely paid her any attention at the breakfast table, and Prue couldn’t help feeling he resented marrying her after all. Blast the man. She had found the courage to call upon him in London a few days after their mishap in the gardens and urged him to reconsider marrying her merely because they were compromised. Though she thought him very handsome and appealing, she had an idea of the kind of man she wanted to marry. One who would dote on her as she doted on him, one who shared the same love of poetry and the theatre, and one who was good-natured and affable.
Her cheeks stung at the memory of the earl’s chilling indifference tinged with amusement when she had said she wanted to only marry for love.
“Love…, how naïve. A marriage connection has nothing to do with love. Your limited views and understanding of how the world operates will change as you mature. You are still wet behind the ears if you do not see that your reputation would be irrevocably ruined should you call the engagement off at this stage. Our alliance is a mutually beneficial one. There is certainly no need for this injured air as if you are losing something by becoming a countess!”
The memory of those words now brought an ache to her throat. Clearly, this was not a man who believed in love. Her family had wanted an illustrious title, and they had got it, but how had the earl benefited? When she asked her papa, he had shushed her away, claiming that was the business of men, and she was not to concern her pretty head about these matters. And her mother had supported his ridiculous assertions.
“Why are you hiding away here?” Temperance asked with a quick frown as she sat on the bench.
“I am not hiding,” Prue said. “I am breathing.”
“Your guests are leaving, and you are not by your husband’s side bidding them a safe journey.”
Prue sighed. “He said I looked a bit wan, and I should retire. I am taking his advice.”
Her sister smiled. “I think your earl meant you should retire to the bedchamber to rest for tonight.”
Tonight?Prue’s heart lurched. Of course, her sister would know the truth of it; she was also a married woman! “Mama mentioned that tonight will be frightening. I am not sure why she told me this, Temp, but I am very out of sorts and nervous. What does she mean?”
Temperance waved her words away. “Mama told me the same rubbish, and I urge you to forget her words. Nothing at all scary will happen.”
Despite the reassuring words, her sister seemed anxious.
“There is something you are not telling me. What is it?”
