A Very Matchmaker Christmas

by Christi Caldwell

  “Prudence, I—”

  “No.” Whatever he wanted to say, she couldn’t hear it. Not yet. She needed to know her own mind, first. “I must go.” And she picked up her skirts and fled the Garden of Eden. Again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Christmas Eve Morning

  Pru welcomed the trip to the local village with the other ladies to view the shop windows’ holiday displays. She needed time away from the house, away from Christopher. She’d sinned last night. She’d beyond sinned last night. But somehow Christopher had made it seem all right. It had felt safe and wonderful. But there was no way her mother was going to accept a suit from a pirate and it was not as if Christopher had made any offers. No, his offer had been strictly made with his body. Nothing else.

  It was true that she hadn’t exactly remained to hear whatever it was he had intended to say but she needed time to think. And that’s all she’d been doing since she’d left the conservatory last night. She still had no answers. She was so preoccupied with her thoughts she barely heard the chatter of the other ladies as they browsed along the shop windows.

  “What’s the matter, Prudence, dear?” Mama asked, stepping up beside her and patting her on the shoulder over her pelisse.

  “Nothing, Mama. I’m quite all right.”

  “Has Lord Beasley done something to upset you, darling?”

  “No, Mama, of course not. He’s done nothing.” That couldn’t have been more true. Regardless of what she decided to do about Christopher, Pru had decided one thing during all of her time spent thinking over night. She intended to stop chasing around a man who clearly wasn’t interested. Why, Lord Beasley hadn’t even been in the conservatory last night or perhaps he’d seen her and fled. The thought made her smile. Either way, they certainly didn’t appear to have much of a future together.

  She snuggled her hands deeper into her fur muff. “I’m not sure Lord Beasley is right for me, after all, Mama.”

  “It’s all right, dear. The right gentleman will come along. Have no fear.” Mama gave her a small smile before turning her attention back to the unruly twins whose noses were pressed against the glass of a shop window farther down the lane. Pru suspected sweets must be inside.

  By the time the shopping party had returned to the manor house an hour later, Pru was resolved. She intended to tell Christopher that while she obviously had strong feelings for him, feelings she could not deny, she had to do the right thing and marry someone suitable. Mother might say the right gentleman would come along, but she certainly wouldn’t accept Christopher Chance as said gentleman. Why, she’d warned Pru away from him more than once. More importantly, most importantly, she had to tell Christopher that they must never touch each other again. And the best way to ensure that happened was to remain firmly out of one another’s company.

  The only problem was that she had to be in his company to inform him as much. And that was simply asking for temptation. She certainly wasn’t fool enough to write anything half as scandalous on paper that might be discovered or read by another. She could picture it now.

  Dear Mr. Chance,

  I am far too tempted to sin in your presence. There shall be no more touching.

  Yours, etc.

  L. Prudence Carmichael

  P.S. Please destroy this correspondence.

  Yes, she could hardly just scroll that onto a piece of foolscap and send it to his bedchamber care of a footman. Instead, she waited until the fancy Christmas Eve dinner was over and everyone was gathered in the ballroom for a festive dance with the servants. She sidled over, caught his attention, and motioned to Christopher with her head to meet her in the corridor.

  He frowned at first but quickly understood what she meant. He waited a full five minutes after she left the room to follow her. By then she was firmly hidden behind a palm at the far end of the corridor. She stuck out her head and made a soft whistling noise to grab his attention. She briefly wondered if that was what a parrot sounded like. She’d never made the acquaintance of a parrot.

  Christopher strolled over and leaned his back against the wall beside her. Both were hidden from view down the corridor by the large potted palm.

  “No conservatory tonight?” he drawled.

  “No!” The word came out much more sharply than Pru had wished it to.

  “I thought you were hiding from me.”

  Her cheeks heated but she shook her head. “I’m not.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” he replied.

  The strains of the music from the ball wafted into the corridor. The servants and guests were singing carols together. A light snow fell outside. It was a glorious magical night. But Pru took a deep breath and said what she had to.

  “I wanted to tell you that I . . . that we . . . cannot see each other again.”

  His back stiffened. He eyed her carefully. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that we should not be alone together ever again.” She rubbed a hand against her high collar as if to emphasize the point.

  “You mean like now?” He was clearly pressing his lips together to keep from laughing.

  She ignored his little barb. “This must be the last time.”

  “Why?” he asked simply, relaxing a shoulder against the wall again.

  She snapped her mouth shut and blinked. She should have been prepared for that question but she wasn’t.

  “What do you mean, why?” she replied, attempting to afford herself some extra time to come up with a suitable reply.

  “You have all these rules and strictures and morals and directions. Why? It has to be more complicated than a sin, Prudence.”

  “It’s not.” She turned her head away.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe what you like.” She crossed her arms over her chest and turned back to stare directly across the corridor at some oil painting of a Weston ancestor. “How do I know that all you’ll ever want from me is anything more than a sin?”

  “You can’t believe that,” he said softly.

  A lump formed in her throat. “What else am I to believe?”

  He paced away from her, across the corridor and then back again, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He cursed under his breath. “What if I offered for you, Prudence? Would you accept me?”

  Unexpected tears burned the backs of her eyes. “You can’t. We can’t. My parents will never accept your suit. Mama has warned me away from you.”

  He clenched his jaw. “Is that so? Because of the damned rumors of my being a pirate? I swear to you it’s not true and I fully intend to clear my name.”

  She shook her head slowly. “No. It’s not just that.”

  His head snapped around to face her. “What? What else is there?” Then a dawning understanding spread across his hardened features. “Because I’m not titled? That’s it, isn’t it?”

  She nearly sobbed. “It’s complicated, Christopher. It’s—”

  “Please, spare me from what will undoubtedly be an expectation of the ton. I understand better than most. A lady’s sole purpose on this earth is to find the best catch possible. I learned that lesson once when my intended left me for a marquess. You’ve no need to explain it to me again.”

  Pru shook her head savagely this time. “It’s not about your title.”

  “Ah, yes, but then again you’ve been chasing after the estimable Lord Beasley, haven’t you? And he just happens to have a title. Look me in the eye.” He pointed to his face. “Look me in the eye and tell me my title, or lack thereof, has nothing to do with it.”

  She wanted to. God, how she wanted to. But she couldn’t. Her gaze remained focused on the painting. “Christopher, please—”

  “I may be the heir presumptive to an earl, that’s hardly good enough when a peer is within your grasp, eh?” His voice was filled with derision.

  Tears slowly traced down her cheeks. “That isn’t it,” she whispered brokenly.

  “Then enlighten me, Prudence. What is it?”

 
But she couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t admit that she felt doomed to hell if he was going to tempt her the way he did. It wasn’t natural. It wasn’t right. It was sinful, lustful, wrong. She’d thought about it all night, all morning, too. She’d had years of reading the Bible to rely on. She knew it was true. But someone like Christopher Chance, a rule-breaker, a possible pirate. He wasn’t going to understand any of that. He’d mocked her views before. She wasn’t going to open herself up to his mockery again.

  “I can’t,” she whispered, wiping the tears from her eyes and turning away from him. She placed a hand on the frescoed wall.

  “Can’t you?” he ground out from between clenched teeth.

  “You wouldn’t understand,” she murmured.

  His next words were filled with a mixture of anger and pain. “On the contrary, Lady Prudence. I already do. Don’t worry. I will not inflict my presence on you again.” He turned on his heel and stalked away.

  Chapter Sixteen

  There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under the heavens. A time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant and a time to uproot. A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to . . . confess.

  And now was that time.

  Pru had been pacing in her bedchamber for the better part of an hour. She hadn’t returned to the servants’ ball. Instead, she’d come upstairs and dressed in her night rail. Then she’d spent hours wearing out the carpets, replaying every second of her time with Christopher since she’d arrived at the house party over and over in her tortured mind. She should have long ago been abed. She’d finally asked her maid to go fetch her mother.

  The door cracked open, and her mother (also wearing her night rail and a dressing gown) came hurrying through it. “Pru, darling, what’s wrong? Are you ill?”

  Pru wrung her hands. “No, Mama. It’s nothing like that.” She swallowed hard and closed her eyes. “I must tell you something.”

  Her mother moved over to her, took her hand, and led Pru to the bed where she sat down next to her and patted Pru’s knee through her night rail.

  “Of, course, darling, you may tell me anything.”

  “I’m afraid you’re not going to like this, Mama.” Pru wrung her hands.

  “The Lord never gives us challenges we cannot handle,” her mother replied calmly.

  Pru raised her eyes heavenward and silently prayed for strength. There was no easy way to deliver this confession other than coming right out with it. Pru decided to do it quickly like pulling off a bandage. “Mama, I’ve sinned.” She clapped her hands over her face and peered at her mother through the cracks between her fingers.

  Her mother’s calm smile didn’t waver. “We’re all sinners, dear.”

  “I don’t think you understand. I’ve been doing things I ought not.” She cringed. “With a man.”

  Her mother’s façade cracked only slightly. She tugged at the throat of her prim, lace-collared night rail and cleared her throat. Her voice was higher than usual. “Prudence, dear. Please define ‘things you ought not,’ if you would.”

  Pru’s face flushed hot. “I kissed him, Mama. I kissed him! And a few other things.”

  Mama quickly held up a hand. “That’s enough. I don’t need to hear all the details, dear.”

  “But, Mama, the things I did.” She bit her lip. “They were wrong. Terribly wrong.”

  Her mother patted her knee again. “I’m sure the Lord will forgive you, Prudence. He can’t entirely blame you. After all, he’s the one who created a man who looks like Mr. Chance.”

  Pru nearly toppled off the bed. “Mama! How in heaven’s name did you know it was Mr. Chance?”

  Her mother gave her a kind smile that reached her blue eyes and made them sparkle. “Mothers know these things, darling. Besides, I have a bit of money on it with Agatha, Pamela, and Lenore.”

  Pru’s mouth fell wide open. “Mother, you do not!”

  “Just a few pounds. Please don’t tell your father, dear. Gambling is a sin, of course, but I concluded that it would be a worse sin to pass up coin so easily won. Besides, I’ve already promised the good Lord that I will give half of my winnings to the alms at church after Twelfth Night.”

  Pru shook her head, her mouth still open, completely astounded. “What exactly were you betting on, Mama? And what is coin easily won?”

  “Why, I bet that you’d make an excellent match. I never doubted it for a moment. Mr. Chance is a fine choice. As for the coin easily won, that part was all about Mr. Chance. I had a suspicion you’d taken an interest in him after the Culpeppers’ ball.”

  “You know about the Culpeppers’ ball?” Prudence slapped her clammy palm against her forehead. What didn’t her mother know?

  “Only that you’d asked about him then, dear. Of course, that nitwit Mary Anne Larkwood threw him over, and then he left town, but I’d always hoped he’d return.”

  “But you warned me away from him, Mama,” Pru insisted, convinced that she was deep in the midst of going quite mad.

  “I know, dear, and I’m sorry. You see, Pamela, Lenore, Agatha, and I were so set on seeing all of you girls well-matched. Agatha got it into her head that we’d need to point you in the, ahem, wrong direction. Of course I wasn’t convinced of it, but Agatha insisted.” Mama cleared her throat again. “She can be quite officious when she wants to be.”

  “So you don’t think it’s a sin that I’ve had”—Pru hid her face in her hands again—“lustful thoughts about him?”

  “Oh, I shouldn’t think so, dear. I tried to raise you correctly with good morals and values, and you have those. You have those in spades. Now it’s time you enjoyed yourself. Like I said, the Lord can hardly blame you for lustful thoughts when he’s created a specimen like that. Besides, I had a lustful thought a time or two about your father before we married. Make no mistake.”

  Pru reached out and balanced a hand on the bedside table in the hopes that the bedchamber would stop spinning. Had the entire world gone mad? Yes. Yes, it had. She shook her head. “So you don’t want me to marry Lord Beasley?”

  Her mother’s half-smile was downright saucy. “Does Lord Beasley make you want to do things you ought not?”

  Pru felt her blush return, spreading over her limbs from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. “No,” she admitted sheepishly.

  “Then I’m not certain he’s the best choice, dear,” Mama replied sagely.

  “But Christopher Chance is a pirate.”

  Her mother patted her hand this time. “A rumored pirate, dear. And I’ve written to a good friend of mine who just may be able to help clear all of that up.”

  Pru shook her head again. Not one thing was making any sense tonight. “What? How?”

  Her mother stood and pulled her dressing gown more tightly around her middle. “Go to sleep, darling. I hope we’ll hear something soon.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Christmas morning

  In a world that had not gone mad, Christmas morning would be a happy time filled with laughter, bells ringing, a few gifts being exchanged, perhaps even wassail and some caroling. But this particular Christmas morning, Pru remained in her bed, snuggled under the covers like a fat little duck, staring absently at the ceiling of her enormous guest chamber.

  “I do not want to get up,” she mumbled to the down pillows. The pillows appeared to be at peace with her decision.

  A knock sounded at her door, startling her.

  “Pru, dear, it’s Mama. May I come in?”

  “Yes,” she called. Of course Mama wasn’t going to allow her to stay abed on Christmas. They must go to church. Pru sighed. It was probably for the best. She pushed the pillows behind her head and sat up against them, blinking as Mama came through the door.

  Mama sailed over to her, holding a letter in her hand.

  “It came dear. Sent from London this morning by special messenger. Can you imagine having the influence to send out a spe
cial messenger on Christmas?” Mama shook her head.

  Pru frowned. “What came?”

  “The letter, dear. The one I’ve been waiting for.” She handed the folded piece of vellum to Prudence.

  Pru took the thing and quickly unfolded it. She scanned the page.

  My Dear Lady Carlisle,

  I read your urgent letter with great haste and interest and intend to reply immediately with the same. The gentleman in question, Mr. Christopher Chance, is known to me as the heir to the Earl of Arundell’s estate, and it was further known to me that he left the kingdom on a privateer some eighteen months ago on a mission for the Crown. His letters of marque have been verified as you requested. I’ve spoken to the Chancellor who has informed me this Eve that the pirate known as Deveraux has been apprehended off the coast of Corsica. That same man has made a full confession and is even now in route back to London where he shall be imprisoned and tried for his crimes. Please inform Mr. Chance that both the Lord Chancellor and I greatly regret the error in which he was ever suspected of piracy and I, myself, look forward to speaking to him upon his next journey to London. Please further inform him that he is welcome at Carlton House at any time as is his affianced bride. I shall inform Arundell that he should be nothing but proud of the lad.

  Yours, etc. etc.

  His Royal Highness, The Prince of Wales

  Pru finished reading with wide eyes. She should have been jubilant over the rest of the letter but instead she sputtered, “His affianced bride?”

  A smile spread slowly across her mother’s face. “Yes. You, dear.”

  “I’m not betrothed to Christopher.”