“And you wished to make me cognizant of the appropriate manner?”
There was just the slightest edge to his voice. Harriet threw up her hands in surrender. “Certainly not. I merely wished to call your attention to the possibility of your bride's . . . shyness.”
“Thank you, my dear, I shall be on the lookout for it.” Ledbetter picked a single white dog hair from his sleeve. “I really should change. Was there anything else?”
His sister sighed. “You could have had the money from Markham, you know. He would have been willing to lend it to you.”
Ledbetter shrugged. “I'm aware of that, Harriet. I chose to pursue my own course, as you see.”
“She's a fine woman, Will,” his sister admitted. “You don't deserve her, you know.”
“Probably not. But I have her.”
“Yes.” Harriet turned again to the window. “She could be the making of you, if you let her.”
“Ah, but is that likely, my dear? I'm a care-for-nothing London beau. I believe that was the expression your husband used.”
“He meant it as a compliment,” she retorted. “And it’s quite obvious that you care for Salston.”
“I do. It’s my seat, and I’ve every intention of keeping it intact. Hence my marriage.”
Harriet turned slowly to face him. “Have a care for Prudence. As your wife, she is deserving of your attention and your kindness. I trust her father insisted on an allowance befitting a baroness.”
Ledbetter found himself sorely tempted to give his sister a set-down. Instead, he said with marked neutrality, “He was a great deal more astute than one would think from looking at him. Prudence will have quite a handsome allowance.”
“Excellent.” She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again with a sigh.
Ledbetter approved of his sister’s decision to forego any further comment. No doubt she realized how close he was to being seriously displeased with her unnecessary intervention. He could not image what possessed her to think he would act anything less than honorably with his bride, unless it was that he had married her for her inheritance from the poor deceased Porlonsby.
Which was hardly to the point, was it? Someone had to marry her with that handsome fortune, and it might as well be he as anyone, mightn't it? What choice did a man with a title and a large draw against his estate have, after all? To have borrowed from his brother-in-law would not have suited him, and his need had been rather pressing.
Ledbetter felt a sudden desire to be on his way. He moved to stand beside his sister at the window, looking out over the gravel drive and the row of chestnut trees. “I know you mean well,” he said, without looking at her. “And I'm delighted that you came for the ceremony, Harriet. It meant a great deal to me, having my only family here.” He turned then and lifted her chin with his finger. “You worry too much. Everything will work out splendidly.”
“I'm sure you're right,” she agreed, if not with as much enthusiasm as he could have hoped. “Go get changed. You don't want to keep your bride waiting.”
“No, indeed.”
Chapter Two
Prudence allowed her sister Lizzie to take her outside into the kitchen garden for a breath of fresh air to clear her head. “Papa wouldn't let me have any champagne,” Lizzie complained. “He'd have done better to refuse to let
you
have any.”
“Don't scold me,” Prudence begged, battling hard against both dizziness and nausea. She attempted to focus on a bare vine climbing up the brick wall, but the effort made her woozy.
The March sun was weak, and little of it penetrated the walled garden. Prudence suddenly realized it might be years before she saw the Colwyck kitchen garden again. Thyme and marjoram would grow again this spring, but she wouldn't be here to pluck and dry the leaves. Something very like a sob caught in her throat.
Sympathetic now, Lizzie stroked her sister’s arm and drew her down onto the bench, saying, “You'll feel better in a little while. You couldn't have had that much.”
“No, but I do seem to remember Harkins refilling my glass at least twice.”
Lizzie scoffed at this. “Your glass probably wasn't empty each time, Pru. He was just being attentive to the new bride.” And then her face seemed to crumple. “Oh, Pru, you shouldn't have done it!”
“Nonsense!” her sister said bracingly. “He's a perfectly respectable man.”
Lizzie raised her brows but made no comment.
“Well, perhaps we've heard things about him which indicate a slightly frivolous disposition, but he hasn't struck me as being the least bit objectionable these two weeks past that he's been here.”
“Two weeks,” her sibling moaned. “How well can you come to know a man in two weeks, Pru? He might be a wretched fellow for all we know.”
“My dear child, I met him in London years ago. He was accepted everywhere. I doubt that has changed.”
“No, but society is forever fawning over anyone with a title,” the innocent ten year old proclaimed. “He would have to have done something drastic to have doors locked against him.”
“You are forgetting how very respectable his sister is, and she seems to dote on him, don't you think?”
“Indeed she does. But that means nothing, Pru. There would naturally be a familial bond between them.”
Prudence laughed. “Naturally? Oh, I think we've seen in our own family that familial bonds are not necessarily natural.”
“Well, they are. It is just that our sisters are missing some facet of their characters. Why, Elinor could very well have waited another year to make her comeout in London. How dared she call you a millstone round her neck? She must have read such drivel in a story.”
Prudence rose and smiled down at her sister. “It doesn't matter, Lizzie. She will have her chance now to go to London, as I did four years ago. I hope she may meet someone as wonderful as . . .”
Catching herself about to utter Porlonsby's name rather than that of her bridegroom, Prudence clapped a hand to her mouth and looked positively stricken. “So much has happened in the past year,” she protested by way of an excuse. “I'd scarcely accustomed myself to poor Allen's death when Ledbetter showed up. I thought at first he had somehow heard of Elinor's famous beauty and come to court her by stealing a march on the London beaus.”
“No, he came to win you and your money,” Lizzie said bluntly.
“Yes, well, I don't begrudge it to him. Papa has arranged matters quite well, I think. I am to have an excessively large allowance. You know, I have always thought it would be delightful to dress in the first stare of fashion,” she said dreamily. “Will I be expected to pay for a woman to dress me out of my allowance, do you suppose?”
Lizzie gave this matter serious thought as she guided her sister back into the house and up the stairs to the first floor. “Well, most of the staff would be Ledbetter's responsibility, but a dresser may be different. I shouldn't think one would be so very expensive, though, unless you were determined on someone with a reputation.”
“Don't you think I shall need someone who has dressed some lady of fashion?” Prudence inquired.
“Hardly. My dear sister, such a woman would be stuffy beyond bearing and you would not be able to put up with her for a week.” Lizzie pushed open the door to Prudence's room, only to find that Elinor and Gladys were already there.
“Where have you been?” Elinor exclaimed. “We've been waiting forever to get you into your traveling costume. You will look excessively fine in that Prussian blue,” she added handsomely.
Prudence thanked her and allowed the two to strip her of her wedding gown. It had seemed eminently practical to use the court dress again, for she was certain Elinor would refuse to have it for her own presentation. The traveling costume, however, was new, an exquisitely tailored gown that flattered her feminine figure.
Elinor smoothed the fabric down over Prudence's hips, saying, “I'm sure Lord Ledbetter will have the greatest difficulty waiting until this evening to see to the disposal of these skirts. You are fortunate to have won so handsome a man, isn't she, Gladys? That should go a long way toward making her wedding night most agreeable, eh?”
Lizzie made a face behind Elinor's back. Prudence was well aware of Elinor's unfortunate lack of delicacy in discussing men and conjugal duties. Gladys was sniggering at Elinor's remarks, adding her own perception of the situation: “His experience is sure to be helpful, too, Prudence, for you may be sure he's been with any number of women. Which could not be said for poor Porlonsby, you know.”
Prudence was forced to bite her lip to keep from saying something most uncharitable to her sisters. Fortunately Lizzie stepped forward to place the matching blue hat on Prudence's head with an exclamation of appreciation. “Oh, you look charming. No, no, don't tuck in that curl, Gladys. The way it escapes is positively delightful. Ledbetter will think her the most beautiful woman in Hampshire.”
Though Elinor and Gladys were wont to be amused by such enthusiasm for their sister's subtle attractions, Prudence, catching sight of herself in the cheval glass, thought that indeed she was in her best looks. Her color was a little higher than usual, owing to the excitement of the occasion. Or perhaps to the champagne. Lizzie hugged her and turned her toward the door.
“You'd best be on your way,” she urged.
Prudence took one last long look around her room. Her trunks were packed and gone. Such mementos as she'd collected during her engagement to Allen had been relegated to the attics or the dustbin. All save the ring he'd sent her from India. That was still tucked in a drawer of her dressing table.
Because she wanted there to be no question about who was to have his ring, she had waited until this moment to dispose of it. Taking it out of the drawer, she closed it tightly in her fist for a moment, and then handed it to Lizzie. “This is for you, my dear. You were always a great favorite of Allen's, and he would have wanted you to have it, as I no longer can. I hope you will remember him fondly, as I do.”
“Oh, Prudence!” Lizzie stared at the gold band with its elegantly set ruby. “Thank you! Of course I shall treasure it, and always remember Allen with the deepest affection.”
Both Elinor and Gladys were glaring at their youngest sister, but neither having had any fondness for Allen Porlonsby, nor he for them, they were helpless to protest Prudence's decision on where to bestow the treasure. Chagrin was writ large on Elinor's face, and Gladys scoffed, “Oh, Lizzie will probably lose it.”
“I won't! I shall take the greatest care of it,” Lizzie insisted, her eyes sparkling with a suspicion of tears.
“Of course, you will, my dear,” Prudence agreed. Her own heart felt sorely tried by having to part with this last gift from her fiancé. But she could scarcely carry it with her to her new home, could she? “I believe I'm ready now to go downstairs.”
* * * *
Ledbetter had arrived in the Great Hall only a short time before his bride appeared. As he watched her descend the circular sweep of the staircase, he was a little surprised by the murmurs of approval greeting her appearance. Ledbetter had always considered Prudence a handsome woman; it appeared that her family had not. He heard a cousin exclaim in an easily overheard undertone, “Why, she's quite a striking thing, isn't she?”
The Prussian blue traveling costume did indeed bring out the best of her coloring, as the converted court dress had not. The hat that perched at a slight angle on her head gave her an air of mischievous insouciance. But Ledbetter could not be sure that it wasn't the young Lizzie who had made the final adjustment to the bonnet, perhaps even tweaking that excessively long feather so that it swept extravagantly behind Prudence like a misplaced halo.
He stepped forward to meet her as she came down the last few steps. “Delightful,” he said, taking her hand and placing it on his arm. “Blue becomes you.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“The carriage has been brought round and, if you are ready, I should like us to be on our way.”
“Of course.” Prudence turned to the sisters who followed her and hugged each of them in turn, holding on to Lizzie for several seconds longer than the other two. Lizzie, Ledbetter saw, had tears in her eyes. He heard her whisper, “Oh, I shall miss you, Pru. Write to me often. Promise you will!”
“I will,” his bride agreed, “for with Ledbetter to frank my least significant words, I shan't hesitate to post them.”
He eyed his bride sharply. Somehow it almost sounded—though of course she hadn't meant it to—as if she had married him because he could frank her letters to her sister. And there was that gleam in her eyes, the gleam he suspected meant that she was amusing herself at someone else's expense—in this case, his.
But the gleam was gone on the instant that she turned to her mother and father. With a sober demeanor she thanked them and said all that was proper on the occasion. Quickly, then, she worked her way through the other guests, only pausing when she came to his sister.
“I am so pleased that you could be here for our wedding, Lady Markham.” Prudence held both of Harriet's hands in her own. “I shall try to make your brother a satisfactory wife, and I hope you will come to visit us at Salston often. There are so many things I would like to ask you; I regret we didn't have more time together.”
“I regret it, too,” Harriet replied, pressing the hands that held hers. “Welcome to the family, my dear. Don't hesitate to call on me at any time.” She dropped her voice so the Stockworths couldn't hear, but Prudence and Ledbetter could. “The best piece of advice I received on the occasion of my marriage was to start out as I meant to go on. With someone like Will, I think you would be wise to heed it, too.”
Ledbetter took exception to this counsel, but his bride merely smiled and nodded. “An excellent idea,” she said. “Your brother would not wish me to pretend to a meekness which I did not possess, would he?”
Harriet's eyes sparkled with amusement. “Indeed not. My brother does not need a compliant woman for a wife. He needs someone who will meet him word for word, else he will think he can ride roughshod over you. And that would be disastrous for you both.”