The Spinster and I (The Spinster Chronicles, Book 2)

by Rebecca Connolly

  “And your reputation will come to light.” She nodded and put her hand in his. “I suppose I must, if I ever will.”

  He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “I’ll save you, Prue,” he murmured, his eyes on hers again. “All night, I’ll save you.”

  Her heart clenched within her, and she nodded, unable to speak, to tell him how much that meant.

  Or to ask the question, “And after that?”

  She was too afraid of that answer.

  But tonight, she could dance.

  Chapter Eight

  Leave-taking is really the most inconvenient thing in the world. Well, it is on the list of most inconvenient things, at any rate. Several other things take precedence. Garters, for example, are much more inconvenient. But leave-taking is unfortunate all the same.

  -The Spinster Chronicles, 2 October 1815

  Camden had not slept well at all the night before, which would usually indicate that he would be remarkably surly to anyone that crossed his path.

  Not this morning, however. Walking the grounds of Tinley, he found himself mostly content. Tired, but content.

  Mostly.

  Despite the dramatics of it all, he had enjoyed last night possibly more than any other ball he had ever attended. There had been some truly spectacular balls in his time, but at this moment none could surpass it, and that was a perplexing thought. Nothing had happened but saving Prue from the idiots, helping her to calm, and then dancing with her twice.

  Twice.

  Other than that, he’d stood near her chair, and they’d chatted easily for the rest of the evening. Others would come and join them on occasion, but no one tried to flatter or puff themselves up for Prue’s benefit. She had danced with Mr. Andrews, who had shocked everybody with that request, and while Prue had not smiled in the dance, she had not turned any colors either. Davies had asked if he might have an opportunity, and given his willingness to make a fool of himself for her, Prue had allowed that as well.

  Camden had only danced with Amelia Perry besides, and his good opinion of her was growing more by the day. It was becoming clearer to him that she was too good for the company present, and while she would never require his assistance or protection, he would consider the idea if it was presented to him.

  Whatever that meant.

  Truth be told, it was probably the most innocent evening he’d ever had after a social engagement like this. Not that he’d ever been really wicked at any other time, but this may have been the first occasion where he’d had no ulterior motives.

  At all.

  It was an odd feeling, somewhere between liberating and bewildering.

  And today, they were leaving Tinley House to return to the glory and splendor of London. No more limited company, no more structured activities, no more enduring sycophants just for the sake of politeness…

  No more saving Prudence Westfall.

  That did not sound particularly appealing at this moment, even after what last evening had brought them. In truth, it was not as much a matter of saving as it was soothing. Assisting. Reassuring.

  Caring.

  He nearly stumbled a step and felt his eyes widen as that realization sunk in.

  Good heavens, he cared. He honestly cared about Prue and her situation, her comfort, her feelings… He cared enough to act, not just to sympathize.

  He cared. About her.

  He exhaled a rough burst of air and shook his head. It was undoubtedly time to return to London and his usual way of life. He needed normalcy and sanity, which one did not tend to get from London Society, but once there, he would find restoration of his usual cares and concerns.

  Not that there were many of those, but he enjoyed it that way.

  Camden Vale did not care. That was what they all said, that was what he had always believed, and that was what he intended to keep to.

  Except this time, he did care, and he did not know why.

  She was nothing, a tiny slip of a woman who feared attention and praise the way most women feared the reverse. She was certainly sweet and undeniably witty, and for some reason, he seemed one of very few people who knew that about her. She had seen fit to confide in him, to trust him, to let that more impish side of herself shine through the fortress of her anxieties.

  What a surprise it had been to discover just how very far from nothing she truly was.

  It would not be necessary to save her in London. She had friends there who were more familiar with her situation and knew how to aid her in her distress. She would be protected and cared for by far better individuals than Camden, and he wouldn’t have to do anything at all.

  She couldn’t possibly need him after this. He hadn’t even heard of her before coming to Tinley House, which meant that her difficulties could not possibly be as spread about as she thought. Here, there was little to distract from them, so it was understandable that it should seem so pronounced. Once there were more to gossip about and more people to see, Prudence Westfall and her shyness would be a small matter indeed.

  And yet…

  He swallowed with a harshness that startled him. Once he had been her protector and her friend, could he cease being so?

  He’d lost all his friends before this because of idiocy and willpower, so he knew it was possible, but this wasn’t like the others. He hadn’t done anything particularly stupid this time, and neither had she. No pride to patch up, no apologies waiting to be delivered.

  A friendship such as this, unlikely as it was, did not follow the same form and pattern as his others, and he was entirely unsure what he was supposed to do with it.

  Was a friendship of convenience supposed to last beyond the convenience?

  Did he want it to?

  Despite his warnings to her, he really wasn’t as bad as everybody made him out to be. He might be a rapscallion, but he was no villain. He might lack manners, but he was not cruel. There were times he was improper, but he was never wicked.

  He wasn’t always a gentleman, but he was rarely less.

  What exactly did that make him?

  She was right; he was confused by his own reputation. He’d never cared enough to really change anything about it, and now he wondered if he should have. Camden Vale could not be friends with Prudence Westfall as things stood. It would take a gross undertaking of the reformation of his character and an establishment of a new one, and probably with some flare and dramatics to emphasize the thing.

  And Prue would not do well with flare and dramatics.

  So that was it, then. The rogue and the spinster would part ways here, just as the road diverged outside the gates. She would go her way and he his. They might meet at events in London. There might be a shared look or a secret smile, a nod of acknowledgement, perhaps a hint of warmth in their eyes. But that would be all. Once in London, she would hear all about him, and there would be no more saving, no more dancing, and no more terrace escapades unescorted.

  Which was as it should be.

  Mostly.

  He circled around to the front of the house to find carriages lined up, waiting for their occupants to appear. The horses snuffled and blustered a little, making the grooms and drivers chuckle as they soothed them. Camden smiled a little at that, oddly wondering which carriages belonged to which guests and if he would be surprised by them.

  A bit of bustling at the doors drew his attention, and he saw Mrs. Westfall proceeding towards the carriages as though she were some sort of royalty. Her head was held almost impossibly high, and her dark traveling clothes, along with those blessed airs of hers, made her seem more like a pompous widow than anybody of importance.

  He looked past her, as much as he was able to without straining, to see Prue following at a greater distance than he expected, seeming somehow more fragile and petite than ever before when compared with her mother. She had absolutely none of the same airs, and reminded him again of a very young girl, though she was older than most here.

  She wasn’t even looking ahead when only in the company o
f her mother. She was just as timid there as she was when surrounded by a dozen people, though she had never quite managed that attitude with him after the first ten minutes.

  There was no life in her like this.

  No life. No spirit.

  Nothing that made her Prue.

  But everything she reduced herself to be.

  Glancing back at the carriages, where her mother was now preparing to board the simplest one of all, Camden looked at Prue and cleared his throat.

  Prue jumped a little, her eyes widening. He saw her swallow, and then she turned to her mother. “Mother, did you b-bid Mrs. Davies farewell?”

  Mrs. Westfall stopped and turned on her heel, not seeing Camden as he stepped further away. “I made my farewells to her last night, Prudence. Did you think I would be so rude as to neglect our hostess in such a way?”

  Prue shook her head quickly, her fingers suddenly knitting together. “Of course not, Mother. It’s j-just she m-mentioned something to me at breakfast about wanting to c-continue a discussion in London.”

  Mrs. Westfall looked suspicious. “What discussion?” she demanded.

  “She d-didn’t say,” Prue told her with all the innocence in the world. “But I b-believe she said you discussed it l-last night.”

  Now Mrs. Westfall seemed almost gleeful, and she marched back towards the house. “Do not go anywhere, Prudence, we will be leaving the moment this conversation is finished,” she barked as she passed her.

  Prue watched her go, then turned to Camden with a raised brow.

  He grinned and strode towards her. “Is there a real conversation that is going to take place inside now? Or did you make that up just to have a private word with me?”

  She returned his smile. “As a matter of fact, yes. I wasn’t going to tell her before we left, as I have a fair idea of what it will pertain to, but now…”

  Camden tilted his head at her, his grin turning crooked. “You sacrificed keeping something from your mother just to speak with me? Good heavens, Prue, I’m rather flattered.”

  Prue rolled her eyes, still smiling. “I keep a great many things from my mother, Cam. It isn’t anything special.”

  He had to laugh at that and marveled at how changed Prue was now from the creature he had just seen. “What’s the conversation about?” he pressed, losing some of his teasing air.

  Now she looked uncomfortable and averted her eyes. “Mr. Davies and myself.”

  “Ah,” Camden murmured with a slow nod. “And am I to congratulate you, then?”

  Prue glared at him quickly. “You know better than that, don’t you?”

  He shrugged. “Do I?”

  She scowled and sputtered softly. “Mr. Davies has never said anything to me to indicate any particular interest. His mother is eager to have him marry anyone of fortune, and as my mother tends to be fairly boisterous with regards to her interests…”

  Camden barked a laugh, interrupting her attempt at an indignant speech.

  Now Prue sighed and let herself smile again. “She is very determined.”

  “So I see,” he replied, still chuckling. “You will undoubtedly find yourself engaged before you reach London.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and his smile softened at the sight. Even the thought of it embarrassed her.

  Poor thing.

  Prue met his eyes wordlessly, her gaze unexpectedly open, the lack of barriers taking him by surprise. It was the clearest, steadiest gaze he had ever seen, somehow filled with secrets and yet completely without them. He was at once disarmed and fascinated, and more confused than ever.

  “Cam,” Prue began, hesitation rampant in her tone.

  He was shaking his head before she could say anything else. “Don’t,” he told her. He couldn’t bear having her showering gratitude on him, making this moment more of an ending than it already was.

  She gave him a look, something raw and vulnerable that nearly stole the feeling from his knees. “I h-have to.”

  That stammer…

  Camden sighed, glanced at the door, and stepped forward to take her hand. “No, you don’t,” he told her gently. “I’m only glad I was out on that terrace when you came racing out.”

  Prue smiled at the reminder and nodded once. “You scared me to death.”

  “I have that effect on people,” he quipped, though he couldn’t manage the lightness he’d hoped for.

  She said nothing, but her smile remained.

  And so did his.

  He cleared his throat and turned their hands, so he could shake hers. “Well, goodbye, Prue Westfall. If you ever need saving in London…”

  Her smile turned wry, yet somehow sad. “But you aren’t the saving type, as I recall.”

  “True.”

  They stared at each other again, silent but for the horses and the sounds from within the house.

  “Goodbye, Camden Vale,” Prue murmured, her hand gripping his with more firmness than he’d expected. “Thank you for saving me.”

  The thought crossed his mind to take her hand and press it to his lips, not in a romantic sense, but more of a teasing, gallant air. Yet it remained firmly in his hold, and he returned the pressure.

  “My pleasure,” he told her, with an honesty he hadn’t managed in years.

  Her slender throat moved on a swallow, and she nodded, releasing his hand and moving to the carriage.

  He ought to help her up, see her situated, say something more…

  Yet here he stood.

  Watching.

  Too soon, her mother reappeared, a satisfied smirk on her lips, and she bustled past him without a word. Then they were off, pulling away and rambling down the road of the estate and out of his sight.

  He stared after them for a long moment, then turned back towards the grounds.

  It would be well to walk them again.

  Prue gnawed on the inside of her cheek as they approached London once more, grateful that it was not a longer journey from Tinley House, though her mother had managed to doze off on the trip, her mouth gaping rather comically as her snores escaped.

  London, for all its being her home, was one of her least favorite places in the world. Too many people, too bustling, too much expectation and restriction. If she had any strength in her character, she would have told her mother that she wished to spend what remained of the Season at her new estate, but she had not.

  And a life in the country would not be the haven she expected it to be if her mother was with her.

  At least London would have the Spinsters. She’d only been gone a few days, but she had missed them terribly. They would have been such a comfort at the house party with all that had been going on and would have found a way to make her laugh about it.

  She would have gone mad had Camden not taken her on.

  She sighed as she leaned her head against the side of the coach, watching the countryside fade into the London streets.

  Her farewells to Camden this morning had seemed somehow more poignant and culminating than she had expected. As though they were parting for life and not for the time being. As though the friendship they had struck up was no longer in place, dissolved now that they had no need of it.

  It was a forlorn feeling, losing a friend who had been so attentive.

  Well, when he remembered to be attentive, that is.

  She had yet to decide if his behavior last night made up for the almost two days of neglect previously, but she could be persuaded to forgive him.

  Not that it would matter. He would not be asking for forgiveness, and she would probably never see him again under the same circumstances. Their paths would most certainly cross at various events, but she crossed paths with several people who paid her little attention.

  She’d never minded before.

  Would she mind now? Would she notice his absence when her usual friends and associates were about her? Would she look for him when she returned to the routine of her life? Would she find herself looking to be saved?

  Would he be
watching?

  Questions rose and swirled and threaten to engulf her completely, none of which she could bear to properly contemplate. She closed her eyes against them, letting the swaying of the carriage soothe her as much as it could. There would be enough to be getting on with without worrying about Camden Vale and his intentions.

  Not that he had any intentions. He didn’t. He wouldn’t.

  And she shouldn’t care.

  London was dangerous ground for a woman in her position, but even more so for a woman in her condition. She knew that the attentions she had endured at Tinley would only be magnified when the rest of London caught wind of her inheritance, if they hadn’t already. Those that had been at Tinley and had gossiped about her would spread it around once returned, and then more and more would do the same.

  She felt no panic at the moment imagining all of that. Rather, it seemed a far-off dream, a hallucination, something that another girl would have to endure, and she would watch with sympathy. She was too fatigued to contemplate how she would react to such advances and attentions. She had no reserves to draw upon, and London would see to it that she did not have a chance to build any up.

  Prudence Westfall was an heiress now, and in London, that was a significant thing to be.

  She would have to deal with all of that soon. She would have to manage invitations and calls, attempts at courtship from men who had never paid her attention, requests for friendship and associations from girls who had never seen her as an ally… Everything she had never been, she would now become.

  The only thing that had not changed was herself, which had never gotten her anywhere in the first place.

  She could not do this alone. She could not endure another event like Tinley. If Camden hadn’t been there to assist her, it would have been a complete disaster, and disasters for heiresses were worse than death.

  She needed her friends.

  Prue looked over at her mother, who was now rousing and scowling out of the window blearily.