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

by Rebecca Connolly

  He was her friend, and she wished him well.

  Biting the inside of her lip, she forced herself to curtsey to him, though her knees trembled dangerously as she rose.

  “There now,” Camden said as he took her hand and led her away, letting the smile fade and working his jaw a little. “That was well done. My face is out of practice, that hurt quite a lot.”

  Prue smiled at the return of the Camden she knew. “You were very convincing.”

  “Well, my budding career on the stage will be gratified to hear that.” He exhaled and scanned the room. “Right, where are the allies?”

  She snickered a little and gestured towards the windows. “Lady Hetty always sits by the windows. She likes the sky.”

  Camden shrugged at that. “She’s of an age where she can like whatever she wants. Works for me.” He smiled to himself as he caught sight of them. “Ah, and Miranda is with her. Perfection.”

  “She is, isn’t she?” Prue smiled at them both. “Good evening,” she greeted as they approached the women.

  Miranda was radiant in cream and gold, and she rose with a delighted squeal. “Prue! You are a goddess of the seas! What a vision you are!” She kissed Prue’s cheeks warmly. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have your figure, child, it is divinity itself.”

  Prue flushed in embarrassed pleasure, though she smiled at Miranda’s effusiveness.

  Miranda winked and pinched at Prue’s cheeks gently. “Darling, I overstepped, didn’t I? Sit here by Lady Hetty, she’ll find a fault straight away to take the blush back.”

  “I will not!” Lady Hetty barked, smiling in spite of her refusal. “There’s nothing to fault in Prudence but her lack of proper family, which is not her fault at all!”

  Camden chuckled and released Prue’s hand. “Well, will you try to come up with one while I take a dance with the lovely Mrs. Sterling?”

  Miranda brightened considerably. “Oh, Mr. Vale, you are too charming! Surely you’d rather dance with a younger woman.”

  He winked at her. “What younger women?”

  Lady Hetty cackled and waved them on. “Go on, the silly pair of you. The dance will be over before you’ve flattered each other enough.”

  Miranda placed her hand on top of Camden’s and let him lead her on, beaming for all the world.

  Camden had that effect on women.

  Prue swallowed as her smile faded, watching as her mother eyed Camden with distaste, huffing and turning her back as she continued to talk with the other ladies around her, waving her hands wildly.

  “It really is a pity that she’s only a prospect for her money,” she heard her mother warble. “Such a useless girl, always has been. Her cousin, however…”

  As if directed to do so, Prue’s gaze slid over to her cousin, dressed in the colors of a pale rose and looking as fresh as one. She had Mr. Hawkins by her side still, and Mr. Davies stood nearby, smiling at whatever she was saying. Her eyes met Prue’s, and she gave her a smug smile. Then she slid her hand from Mr. Hawkins’ arm and pulled Mr. Davies into the dance, though he was obviously willing enough to go.

  Prue didn’t care about Mr. Davies being taken in by Eliza, as she’d never had an interest in him herself. She did, however, care very much that Eliza only took him on to take him from Prue. That all of this was simply a way to remove things from Prue’s life that could potentially bring her joy. That she found such pleasure in hurting her, and always had.

  Say baa for me, lamb. Go on. Baa-aa-aa-aa…

  Prue’s cheeks colored as the sound of mocking bleating suddenly rang rampant in her mind, almost making it to her ears.

  Laughter joined it, and she could not discern if it were in her mind or actually happening. It all blended together in a cacophony that threatened to deafen her.

  “Prue, darling, why does your mother look like an actual blizzard? Snow drifts and giant flakes, and all?” Charlotte’s voice broke in, laughing to herself. “And with the way she’s flailing, it may actually snow in a moment.”

  “What in the world is she doing?” Grace’s voice wondered, probably looking very pretty with the worry knitting her fair brow. “How embarrassing.”

  Embarrassing. Dreadful. Horrifying. Her family was an absolute nightmare to deal with, to even associate with. No one who had any sense wanted them about, not even her friends. Prue didn’t want them around if she could help it, but she had little choice in the matter.

  They were a trial to everyone, and no one would feel that more keenly than Camden. He’d suffered the effrontery of interrogation and degradation in his interaction with them, all for a connection that did not actually exist. He had endured their belittlement of Prue and the aggravation of their conversation more times than Prue could recall at present. They ought not to be such a burden for him.

  Not when this all meant nothing.

  Would any man want to deal with them for want of Prue?

  Alas for love matches, no one would have accepted you as a relation for convenience alone…

  Camden’s words to Hugh Sterling came into mind, the same taunting accent in them, but now they were directed at Prue.

  Her relations that no one would want.

  Or was she the relation no one would want?

  Her mind began to cloud, to thicken with the laughter, the bleating, the rumbling insults flitting about, and she looked around faintly for any sort of reprieve.

  Hugh Sterling leaned against a wall, looking listless and wasteful as he drank deeply from the glass he held. His eyes cast around and settled on Prue for a moment. He seemed to laugh to himself, his expression morphing into a sneer, and he gave her a mocking toast of whatever he held before drinking the rest of it.

  Prue’s breath hitched in her chest, and her cheeks burned.

  She was a mockery. This was all a mockery. She didn’t deserve to be an heiress, she didn’t have anything to offer anyone but her fortune, and even that would be a waste.

  “Oh, Prue, you don’t look well at all,” Eliza taunted as she and Mr. Davies swept past. “Can you give a greeting to Mr. Davies? You remember him, don’t you?”

  She leaned closer as if examining Prue with concern.

  Prue met her eyes, though her vision began to blur a little.

  Eliza smirked. “You’ll never get there, lamb. Simple ones never do.” She bleated weakly, her ratafia-laced breath wafting over Prue’s burning cheeks. She straightened and turned to Mr. Davies. “Poor thing, she’s not even really here. We’ll have to come back. Come along, Davies.”

  Prue exhaled on a whimper, tears beginning to sear their way down her cheeks.

  “Don’t pay any attention to that…”

  “Prue, it’s all right, you don’t…”

  Their voices faded into a buzzing as her entire body began to tingle, from the roots of her hair to her temples and down her spine.

  Camden would leave her when he was tired of this mess of her life, this pretend courtship for no reason at all, and she’d be left all alone again.

  Alone with the fortune she didn’t want.

  Alone with the fortune hunters who would not rest.

  Alone with her family who refused to love her.

  Alone…

  A horrible, catching, wheezing whimper met her ears, and she wanted to beg whomever it was to stop, to leave her be, to let her have peace.

  And then it occurred to her.

  It was her.

  She staggered to her feet and stumbled towards where she thought the door was, needing air and quiet and calm. The music from the orchestra suddenly overwhelmed every one of her senses, driving the tingling of her frame into a frenzy.

  She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t stop the roaring of her own panic as it consumed her so completely.

  Her arms were seized just as she felt her legs crumpling, and she felt herself being dragged, though her feet still moved, tingling to a painful extreme. Her chest ached with the breath she could not find, panicking further at the lack of air,
quickening the pulse now pounding in her head.

  She was going to die. She was honestly and absolutely going to die in this numbing, tingling, senseless state, and she would forever be tied to such an embarrassing end.

  Her breath hitched loudly, and her knees were suddenly swept up, her body slamming limply into a much larger, warmer object.

  “The door, Georgie. Charlotte, distractions.”

  Prue’s head dropped back as her strength gave out completely, and rough sobs now ripped from somewhere in her chest. Waves of tingling, burning sensations cascaded through her.

  “Oh, Prue…”

  Was that Izzy? Grace? She couldn’t tell, couldn’t make out the differences.

  Who held her? Whose voice had she heard directing the others?

  “Come on, sweetheart, give me a second…”

  She knew that voice, and her lungs seemed to quiver on their heaving sobs at hearing it.

  Suddenly, she was positioned upright on a bench, flanked on either side by bodies, and her head was taken in hand.

  “Breathe in, breathe out. Fear in, fear out.”

  Obediently, she inhaled deeply, the command registering on some deep, tormented part of her.

  “Look at me, love. Eyes on me.”

  Wearily, she lifted the lids she hadn’t known were closed and tried to focus on the dark ones before her. They were steady and strong. Warm. But… her father had blue eyes like hers.

  Camden.

  “Breathe in,” Camden murmured, his hands pressing against her skin, “breathe out. Fear in, fear out.”

  Breathe in, breathe out. Fear in, fear out.

  Somehow, she listened, obeyed, breathed with him, with both of them as her father’s voice rang in chorus with Camden’s in her mind. Over and over, the words repeated, from Camden’s lips and in her mind, giving her focus, direction, purpose…

  Camden nodded slowly as he breathed with her, seeing her clearly as she found the ability to focus again. “There you are. There’s my girl. Breathe in, breathe out…”

  “F-fear in, f-fear out,” she whispered weakly.

  He nodded again, smiling. “Almost there?”

  She closed her eyes briefly in an almost nod.

  Breathe in, breathe out. Fear in, fear out.

  “That’s right, love. That’s right.”

  Prue felt herself nodding in his hold. She inhaled a shaking breath that sent tremors through her, then released it with the sort of stuttering she spoke with.

  Someone wiped tears from her face, brushed her dampened curls from her brow, and someone else rubbed her upper arms gently.

  “Oh, Prue…”

  That was definitely Izzy, she could tell now.

  “All right, ladies, would you give us a moment? Just guard the windows.”

  The girls beside her moved, and Prue was scooped up again, then settled against Camden’s chest.

  She blushed and shook her head, but arms clamped firmly around her.

  “No, no,” Camden soothed, brushing her hair back again. “Don’t fight, sweetheart. You’re calm, but you’re not better. We can wait.”

  Prue whimpered as a fresh wash of tears appeared. She curled into Camden, loving how he collected her against himself as if to shield her from anyone and anything

  “Shh,” he murmured, his lips against her hair. “It’s all right. Whatever it is, whatever it was, it’s all right.”

  She nodded against him, grateful he didn’t press her for details. How could she have voiced any of it? He was so central to what had set her off, and confessing all of that… She did not have that much strength within her.

  But he was here now, and he had remembered every detail of the pattern her father had set for her, down to this last part. He hadn’t balked at any of it or told anyone else what to do. He’d done it himself.

  Breathe in, breathe out. Fear in…

  “Fear out,” he whispered against her hair, rubbing her arm.

  She sighed heavily against him, weary in the aftermath. For several long moments, there was no sound but her breathing, and that slowly began to steady as well. When her heart resumed a normal, painless rhythm and her body no longer shook, she raised her head and looked into his face. He smiled gently at her, no sign of regret or disdain, no shame or embarrassment.

  Nothing but warmth.

  “There you are,” he said fondly, his mouth lifting in a crooked smile. “We missed you.”

  Prue managed a smile at that.

  His eyes searched hers carefully. “Better?”

  She nodded again.

  He raised a doubting brow. “Really?”

  She wet her lips and gave another small nod. “Really.”

  A flash of pleasure lit his eyes at the lack of stammer, and he returned her nod, rising and setting her back down on the bench.

  “Good. I’ll take you home.”

  Prue shook her head quickly, collecting her thoughts in the sudden chill of the night. “No, I want to stay.”

  That surprised him. “Do you?” He put his hands on his hips, his brow furrowing. “Why?”

  She looked up at him, seeming to see him in all his essence for the first time. “I want to dance. With you.”

  Slowly, Camden grinned at her, a tempting, attractive, earnest grin that warmed her more than her shame ever had. “Sweetheart, I will dance with you all night if that’s what you want.”

  He reached for her hand and drew it to his lips, the fabric of her gloves doing absolutely nothing to deaden the shock of heat and lightning his lips created.

  Prue laughed a breathless half laugh, and Camden heard it, his lips quirking at the sound. He winked, then lowered her hand back to her lap with the gentleness of a whisper.

  “Cam, could you teach me how to punch properly?” Charlotte asked, effectively breaking the tension Prue felt rising between them. “I have a fiendish desire to hit Lizard Liza Howard.”

  Prue choked on another laugh, as did the others, and Camden threw a sardonic look at the outspoken spinster.

  “I have someone you need to meet, Charlotte Wright,” he said with admiration. “She could help you far more than I could.” He returned his eyes to Prue, and they softened noticeably. “I’ll be inside waiting for you, whenever you’re ready. I expect marvelous dancing and nothing less.”

  “No promises,” she replied in a low tone, smiling in spite of herself.

  He returned it, nodded, and turned for the doors, offering an arm to Izzy, who took it with a merry laugh.

  Charlotte followed, and seized his other arm, plaguing him with questions.

  Prue watched them go, then sighed heavily as she looked around the terrace.

  Georgie stood there still, eyes fixed on Prue, expression unreadable.

  Prue blinked unsteadily, and she swallowed fresh nerves. “Georgie?”

  Her friend’s lips pursed as her eyes shifted to the ballroom, then moved back to Prue on an exhale. She smiled a small, knowing smile.

  “If I were you, Prudence Westfall,” she said at last, her voice laced with amusement, “I would kiss that man properly before too much time has passed.”

  Prue’s heart suddenly lodged itself in her throat, and she squeaked in distress. She swallowed no less than four times, then whispered, “I… d-don’t know how.”

  Georgie’s smile spread. “That’s all right. I’m fairly certain he does.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sometimes, a girl must do as she’s told. Sometimes, it’s quite delightful to do so.

  -The Spinster Chronicles, 8 July 1816

  “Cam, where is she?”

  “If I knew, I would tell you.”

  “But you did tell her to come, yes?”

  “You sent her an invitation, Lydia. And yes, I told her. At least three times. She will come.”

  “Are you sure? She wasn’t put off by you or by me?”

  Camden stared at his sister in surprise. “Why in the world would she be put off by me?”

  Lydia ga
ve him the sort of look only older sisters can. “Because it’s you?”

  He frowned and looked over at Chadwick, feeling a bit disgruntled. “Do you see what sort of woman you married?”

  Chadwick smiled and shrugged his broad shoulders. “Aren’t I a fortunate man?”

  Camden snorted and shook his head in disgust. “Hopeless.”

  “Oh, do be kind to yourself,” Lydia scolded, patting his arm. “You’re not entirely hopeless, just dense.”

  “Are you two still squawking at each other? I’d thought you’d matured long past it. But then, the Vales never were very mature.”

  Camden looked up with a frown as Dart and Julia entered, looking the picture of a perfect London couple, all refinement and elegance, and were it not for the decidedly mischievous glint in both of their eyes, one would have expected them to behave in an equally perfect manner.

  “Dart!” Lydia squealed, never one to behave as a perfect London lady.

  He grinned at her and released his wife’s arm to forgo any sort of propriety by hugging Lydia rather than greeting her formally. “You haven’t changed at all, Lydia.”

  She pulled back, grinning up at him. “Neither have you, whelp, except in inches.” She reached up and ruffled his hair as though he were twelve again, making them all chuckle.

  Dart shook his head and stepped back, smoothing his hair down. “Lydia Chadwick, may I present my wife, Julia?”

  “Oh, she’s far prettier than you should have managed, Dart” Lydia beamed and rushed forward to hug her as well. “I never thought there would ever be a Mrs. Dartmouth! I love you already!”

  Julia laughed and gave Dart and Camden a bewildered look. “Why shouldn’t there be? Was Dart that hopeless?”

  “Don’t answer that,” Dart said at once, giving his wife a severe look.

  Julia returned it, then smiled at Lydia fondly. “I can see we have much to discuss, Mrs. Chadwick.”

  “Now you’ve done it,” Camden muttered, shaking his head. “Excellent work, Dart.”

  Dart grumbled under his breath. “I presume that is your husband, Lydia?”