Prudence huffed. “Fine then, just walk, but try to take smaller steps.”
Evan did as she asked, swearing to himself that if he felt this much the fool in private he would never do this dance in public. Even in Europe he had never really understood the fascination with the minuet. Just watching it was enough to put him to sleep. He found he didn’t like performing it much better. He and Prudence were separated by far too much parquet.
He much preferred the soirees thrown by the peasants, gypsies, sailors, and other folk that the European monied class tended to consider unsavory. For himself, Evan found them very savory and their dances much more invigorating.
“That’s better. Now you bow again. No, no, not to me, bow forward.” Prudence said, when Evan turned to face her again.
“But there’s nobody in that direction.” Evan waved his hand toward a row of empty chairs.
“Yes, but there will be when we are at a ball.”
Evan turned and bowed to one particularly overstuffed, red velvet settee that reminded him of a French grandam—one without a head, of course. He even pretended to doff a hat for good measure.
Prudence rolled her eyes. “Now, take my hand.”
Evan took her hand again, lightly this time, and Prudence walked around him in a small circle. Not sure what he was supposed to do, Evan tried to follow her lead but ended up walking straight into her path. Prudence bounced off his solid frame, and Evan had to wrap his arm around her waist to keep her from toppling.
“No, you need to stand still,” she said in a breathy voice. “Let’s go back to where you took my hand again.”
Prudence repeated her move, then reached out for his other hand. Evan allowed her to take it, and waited for further instructions.
Prudence spun the other way, twisting Evan along with her.
“You’re supposed to move with me!” The strain was beginning to show in her flushed face, and she no longer bothered counting out the beats.
“Are you sure this is the dance we should start with?”
Prudence dropped his hand and put her fists on her hips. “Really, this is the simplest of dances. If you would just follow my instructions, I’m sure you’ll have it in no time.”
She looked and sounded all too much like little Celia.
“Perhaps we can try another dance that I know.”
The prim governess returned, “Really, Mr. Evan, I don’t think this is the time or place for a dance of the sort you have in mind.”
“Now look who’s having impure thoughts. I was referring to a dance that I learned while I was in Europe.”
“I thought you didn’t know how to dance.”
“I don’t,” Evan said hastily. He didn’t want her renewing the absurd notion he had refused to dance because he didn’t want to dance with her. “But this dance looked exceedingly easy. The couple dances together in time to the music, with the man taking the lead. To me, that seems much easier than following a set of predefined steps.”
“Together?” Prudence’s eyebrows knit in confusion.
“Yes, like this.” Before she could protest, Evan slid his arm about her waist.
“Oh,” Prudence said, her eyes as round as her lips.
“Then, I take your hand in mine.” Evan grasped her hand lightly and started to hum a tune he had first heard in Bavaria.
Prudence stumbled when his feet started to move.
“Just move with me,” Evan said.
“I have to dance backward?” Prudence stiffened in his arms.
“Some of the time. At other times, I’ll be the one dancing backward.”
“Seems terribly random.”
“Just follow my lead.” Evan tightened his grip about her waist, and Prudence clung to his hand and shoulder.
He had danced many different versions of this peasant dance and with partners at all levels of skill during a brief expedition to Eastern Europe. Prudence was like none of them. Trying to lead her around the dance floor was like trying to tack in a full force gale. She simply wouldn’t move the way he wanted her to.
Prudence laughed when Evan tried to whirl her around, and she lost her footing. “Are you sure this isn’t dangerous?”
“I hadn’t thought so, but now I’m not so sure.” Evan laughed. “Tell you what, let’s try something. Put your feet on mine. That way you’ll get used to the feel of the dance.”
Prudence narrowed her eyes at him. “You want me to stand on your toes? Are you sure I won’t be too heavy?”
Evan snorted.
She took one tentative step onto his polished boot.
“Oof,” Evan said.
Prudence slapped at his shoulder, but her voice held amusement. “I haven’t even put my weight on you yet.”
Once she had her full weight resting on his toes, Evan whirled her around the dance floor once more, humming the tune in her ear.
Her satin slippers threatened to slide off his feet several times, so Evan tightened his grip and pulled her up against his chest.
“Do they really dance this way in Europe, in public?” Prudence was breathless even though Evan had been the one doing all the work.
“Definitely.” At least the villagers did. Evan pulled her closer.
“How very shocking!” Prudence giggled as he whirled her faster about the floor.
At the apex of one particularly aggressive twirl, Prudence’s slippered foot slid off Evan’s boot at the same time he lost his hold around her waist. He made a grab for her as she lost her footing and headed for the floor. Evan’s fast reflexes and an uncommonly solid sense of balance acquired by living life on the moving deck of a ship, allowed him to ensure she fell on top of him instead of hitting the parquet.
“Oof,” Evan said again, smiling into Prudence’s shocked eyes.
“I am so sorry!” Prudence tried to pull away, but Evan kept his arms locked about her waist.
She stopped struggling. Her long auburn hair slipped over her shoulder and brushed his cheek like a sheet of satin. He thought he detected the slight hint of rosemary.
He could stay like this forever.
“Am I not heavy?” Prudence asked in a whisper.
“Yes, as a matter of fact you are.” Evan gave her a wicked grin and flipped her over so she lay under him. “There, that’s better.”
It was better.
“I can see why the Europeans are fond of this dance,” Prudence said, a becoming blush spreading across her cheeks.
Evan dipped his head, his eyes on her rose-colored lips. Would she let him kiss her again?
“I suggest we not try it at the Governor’s Ball.”
Evan froze, his lips just above hers. “The what?”
“The Governor’s Ball.” Prudence pushed at his chest so she could look into his eyes. “It’s in two weeks. An invitation was delivered to the manor just today. That’s one of the reasons I decided to teach you to dance.”
Evan sprang to his feet, then yanked Prudence to hers with a quick tug at her hand.
“I thank you for the lesson today, but I must get back to the stables so I’m there in time for my appointment.”
“Oh, of course,” Prudence said, sounding slightly bewildered. “Perhaps we could do this again sometime?”
****
“Stu!” Evan bellowed as soon as he cleared the threshold to the stables.
Stu appeared from Demon’s stall, a hoof pick in hand. “What is it, Evan?”
“I need you to find me a dancing instructor. The best one money can buy.” Evan leaned against the stable wall and released a frustrated sigh.
“A dancing instructor?” Merriment shone in Stu’s eyes. “What on earth would you need a dancing instructor for? Unless...Oh, don’t tell me. The lovely Miss Ashcroft has you dancing to a merry tune already!”
“Just do it,” Evan said, in no mood for Stu’s teasing.
Stu’s smile dissolved. “Very well. How soon do you need him?”
“Now, dammit!”
He would
not disappoint Prudence again.
Chapter Fourteen
A cool breeze tousled Evan’s hair with gentle fingers as he guided Demon up the slope to the top of the cliff. The big black pulled at his reins, obviously eager to work out some of his pent up energy. Evan knew exactly how he felt.
His last encounter with Prudence left him aching with need. Their dancing lesson ended with her lying atop him, her soft, rosemary-scented hair falling over one shoulder, her breasts pressed against his chest, her hips against his hardening body.
Had she not mentioned the Governor’s Ball, how might the afternoon have ended? Would he have suggested they continue their dance in the privacy of her bedroom? Or perhaps he would have been content to take her right there on the parquet floor.
Evan grunted. He was as bad as Demon, sniffing after Bolt even though the mare was not in season.
Demon snorted as though objecting to his master’s thoughts.
Rider and horse cleared the top of the rise, and Evan scanned the horizon to the west. A single tree stood off in the distance surrounded by meadows still golden from last summer’s grasses. He considered spurring Demon toward the tree, racing some imaginary foe, when a lone rider caught his eye.
So she did prefer to ride astride rather than sidesaddle. This time, however, her skirts were hiked only to mid-calf. She still showed a ridiculous amount of leg, but at least she wore brown riding boots instead of the impractical kid boots she had worn on the day they met.
Prudence rode for the tree, her long auburn curls fluttering in the breeze, her white cap flopping at her back with each of Bolt’s strides.
Evan nudged Demon with his knee, prepared to join her in a real race, when the shadow of a man separated from the trunk of the tree. He yanked Demon’s reins so hard the horse nearly stumbled.
The man appeared to be waiting for Prudence, but for what purpose? The hair on the back of Evan’s neck stood up, and every muscle in his body tensed.
A portion of his concerns were answered when Prudence waved a hand in greeting. The man waved back. At least she knew he was there, but that still didn’t explain why Prudence would ride out to meet a man in the middle of a meadow without a chaperone.
Was this perhaps the same man she had met on the beach? He was tall and thin, but beneath the shadows of the old oak, Evan could detect no more defining characteristics.
Bolt trotted up to the tree, and Prudence slid from her saddle even before coming to a full stop. The man stepped forward until a drop of sunlight glinted against golden hair. Evan held his breath, waiting for him to step farther into the light that would reveal his identity. He released it in a frustrated rush when Prudence stopped the man’s advance by throwing herself into his arms.
He had to be the same man. She claimed they weren’t lovers, and he believed her. Still, she obviously knew him well enough to be free with her affections.
An old friend of the family perhaps? But then why meet in the meadow? Was he unwelcome at the manor?
It occurred to Evan that should either Prudence or her mystery man look over their shoulder, he and Demon would stand out in stark contrast to the sea of golden grass and the blue sky behind them.
“Come on, boy, let’s find a place to hide.” Evan clicked his tongue and guided Demon behind a copse of trees.
Feeling a bit like a schoolboy with a jealous crush, he watched the pair face each other beneath the tree’s sheltering branches. Prudence reached out and grasped the man’s hands in hers. Her lips moved, but Evan was too far away to hear her words.
Demon nickered and nudged his nose into the small of Evan’s back.
Unwilling to take his eyes off Prudence, Evan waved a hand behind him. “Settle down, boy. I can’t go down there where I am not wanted.”
Demon whinnied.
“Shush! We’re upwind. She’ll hear us if we’re not quiet.”
Evan stopped paying attention to his impatient horse when the stranger leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on Prudence’s lips. So Prudence might have been telling the truth when she said the strange man wasn’t her lover, but she never said she didn’t intend him to be.
****
“What was that for?” Prudence asked when the shock of Richard’s kiss wore off.
Had he been any other man, any other besides Mr. Evan, his cheek would have been stained with the imprint of her palm. But Richard had been her closest friend nearly all her life. That he hadn’t tried to steal a kiss before now was perhaps more shocking.
“To tell you the truth, I’ve wanted to do that since I was about ten, but you were younger still so I thought I had better wait. I never seemed to find the right moment though. Then you went away to school, and now you tell me the rumors of your betrothal are true. I figured this was my last chance. I do hope you’ll forgive me for taking it.”
“Of course, Richard.” Prudence released his hands so she could take his elbow. “Let’s take a turn about the meadow, shall we?”
They walked through the dry grass, their boots kicking up early spring insects and seeds from last year’s clover.
“Richard.” Prudence hesitated and looked up at him. “Do you love me?”
Richard slid a glance toward her then cast his gaze at the horizon. “Yes and no.”
“Yes and no?”
It wasn’t the response she had been expecting. Deep inside, she suspected Richard had loved her since childhood. No man would have looked after her as faithfully as Richard had if he didn’t harbor at least a deep affection.
Richard turned to face her, holding her hands in his. “Prudence, I will always love you. At one time, I even thought we might have a future together despite your grandmother’s admonitions, but tell me something.” He glanced at their entwined hands.
“What is it, Richard?”
Richard raised his eyes to hers. “How did you feel when I kissed you just now?”
Prudence thought for a moment. She hadn’t recoiled at the touch of Richard’s lips any more than the touch of his hands on hers. Had she not had something to compare it to, she might have thought it to be what a kiss was supposed to be.
But she did have something to compare it to.
“It was pleasant.”
“Pleasant, huh?” Richard gave her a wry smile.
“Pleasant is good, isn’t it?” She didn’t want to encourage him, but on the other hand, she couldn’t bear hurting her dearest friend.
“Sure, pleasant is good. I thought it pleasant, too, but don’t you think kisses between people who love each other, I mean love each other as more than friends, ought to be more than pleasant?”
At one time, Prudence would have given anything to marry a man whose kisses she found pleasant. A man who found kissing her to be pleasant was more than she ever dared hope for.
Until she kissed Mr. Evan. Her face warmed. His kiss had been no light touching of lips. He had kissed her thoroughly, hungrily. She had returned his kiss with just as much fervor. Richard’s kiss paled in comparison.
Richard chucked her under the chin with his knuckle. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. One day the woman in you will awake, and you’ll understand what I mean.”
Prudence tucked her hand back into the crook of his elbow and nudged him forward, hoping he wouldn’t notice the heat spreading across her face.
“So, tell me about this man you plan to marry,” he said as they walked.
“Well...” Prudence considered.
How could she describe a man she barely knew? He was handsome, but her friend didn’t need to know that. He wasn’t as accomplished as Richard, but it seemed somehow disloyal to say so. The feelings he engendered in her weren’t something she had ever tried to put into words.
She didn’t feel alone anymore.
The admission shocked Prudence. She had never considered herself lonely. Not really. Richard had always been there for her. Even when she was away at school and living in Boston, he found time to write to her, often several times a week. When his ow
n schooling and then business allowed, he came to visit as well.
She realized now that even though she wasn’t lonely, she was alone. She had dreaded what the future would bring. She supposed she always knew their friendship couldn’t remain as it had been forever.
Rachel Ashcroft saw what her granddaughter had been loathed to admit. If she and Richard married, it would change their relationship.
But that was bound to happen eventually anyway. If he didn’t marry her, he would find some other woman to marry. And his wife likely wouldn’t care to see her husband spending quite as much time with another woman, childhood friend or not.
With Mr. Evan, Prudence felt more secure about her place in the world. It was like everything somehow seemed right, and even if things did go terribly wrong, she had someone she could count on. Mr. Evan would be there for her, always.
She had never thought that she would want that, but now, she realized how very much she hated being alone.
“He’s intriguing.” Prudence settled on a completely inadequate description.
“Intriguing?” Richard grinned down at her. “That’s high praise coming from you. Does he have prospects?”
Prudence tucked her arm deeper into Richard’s. He had been such a good friend all these years. She was glad he felt the same way about their kiss. It would be a shame to lose her best friend over something so inconsequential. She needed someone she could talk to, and while the future remained uncertain, she welcomed his company now.
“Well, he’s stable master at Ashcroft, but I’m not sure what his prospects are.”
“He works for you then, does he?” Richard’s face turned thoughtful. “You don’t think it takes skill or intelligence to run a stable as large as Ashcroft?”
“I’m sure it does. I’ve just never seen any indication that he wants more out of life.” She could hardly admit to Richard that lack of ambition was a qualification she required in a husband.
“If he never rises above the position of stable master, would you hold that against him? Remember, although you call me cousin, I am just the son of your grandfather’s steward.”
Prudence jumped to his defense. “And my business manager.”
Willing Love Page 13
