The Colonel's Spinster: A Regency Romance (Tragic Characters in Classic Literature)

by Audrey Harrison

  The evening of the assembly soon came around, and although Lady Catherine had hinted at cancelling the trip a few times over the passing days, Fitzwilliam had always countered that he would still accompany Prudence, using Mrs. Collins as a chaperone. As Lady Catherine was loath to be excluded from any activity and Fitzwilliam’s threat hung over her head, there was never any real danger of the trip not going ahead.

  Anne and Prudence entered the drawing room together. Fitzwilliam was standing at the fireplace and turned to greet the ladies. He faltered at the sight of them framed in the doorway.

  Dressed in a pale pink satin with organza overlay and decorated with tiny embroidered flowers, Anne looked almost ethereal with her pale complexion and slight frame. Her brown locks had been fixed in a softer style than she normally wore, curls framing her face. Her colour was heightened, and she smiled shyly at her cousin.

  “Anne, you look beautiful,” Fitzwilliam said, and he meant it. He had never seen her look so well.

  “Thank you. Do you think it is too much? It’s only a local assembly after all.” Anne asked, uncertainty in her voice.

  “Not at all!” Fitzwilliam said quickly. “You look perfect, and I only wish I could stand up with you, for I would love to be the one to show you off to the locality.”

  If Fitzwilliam had been stunned at Anne’s appearance, his mouth had gone dry at the sight of Prudence. She wore a rich navy-blue silk dress. It seemed to fall against her tall frame, highlighting her figure to its best effect. Silver lace edged the gown, and a sapphire and silver necklace focused the eyes on the low, but not too revealing, neckline. Her hair was dressed similar to Anne’s at the front, but she had left more length at the back, resulting in a cascading tumble of curls. A silver shawl wrapped around her shoulders, and silver gloves contrasted with the dress. She wore no make-up apart from black on her eyelashes and a rich red on her lips. She looked regal and elegant.

  “I am to be the envy of every man in the room tonight,” he said to Prudence, his voice a little choked.

  Prudence smiled, her cheeks colouring slightly but said nothing.

  Fitzwilliam wasn’t used to being without words, so he was relieved when Lady Catherine followed his cousins into the room. She assessed Anne with approval and then turned her scrutinising gaze onto Prudence.

  “That’s an expensive dress,” she stated.

  “Yes. It is,” Prudence answered.

  “Your father has tried his best to show you in a positive light. It does him credit,” Lady Catherine conceded.

  “He spoils me.”

  “The jewels look the real thing. Paste is a wonderful ingredient. Only an expert eye would suspect anything. You will do, and if you continue to please me, I shall allow you to wear some of my own jewels at the next assembly.”

  Prudence smiled sweetly at her aunt but once more remained silent.

  Fitzwilliam wondered at the exchange, always wishing his aunt would be slightly more tactful. He silently commended Prudence’s restraint, for he knew she would have made some comment if it had been anyone else uttering the remark.

  “Come. We are to collect the Collinses,” Lady Catherine said. “I want to hear all about how my instructions on the tenants’ homes are being received. I tasked Collins with speaking to them.”

  “Isn’t that a job for your steward?” Fitzwilliam asked.

  “Huxley had other jobs to do. He is capable, but I like to keep an eye on what he does.”

  The three groaned quietly in unison. The journey would be tedious and without the anticipation of an enjoyable evening to look forward to with Mr. Collins and Lady Catherine having a conversation. All of a sudden, five miles in a carriage seemed a very long distance.

  *

  Entering into the Assembly, Fitzwilliam had an inkling as to the real reason Lady Catherine didn’t frequent the assemblies very often. There was a real mixture of people in the room. It was obviously an area without enough families to make the event exclusive to the top of society. There were members from the middle classes, and if his aunt’s expression and mutterings were anything to go by, as she surveyed the room, many people of trade.

  The arrival of Lady Catherine caused a bit of a stir, and one of the head members of the older families in the area immediately approached the group and bowed deeply over Lady Catherine’s hand.

  “My lady, it is an honour to see you here. Please, would you join my family? My mother is with us and very much desirous to speak with you.”

  “Sir James, that would be preferable to joining any other group I can see in this place,” Lady Catherine said with a sniff, accepting the proffered arm and being led towards a table at which there was an elderly lady and two younger ones already seated. They were the daughters of Sir James Goode. One was married, but the other was unmarried, pretty, and had the same open character as her father.

  The party broke into two natural groups, Lady Catherine, Mr. and Mrs. Collins with Sir James, his elder daughter and her husband, and Sir James’s mother. The younger, unmarried members standing to one side. Anne had to concede to her mother’s request that she accept a chair, but apart from that, Lady Catherine turned her attention away from the group.

  Miss Goode’s dance partner collected her in plenty of time for the first dance. When Fitzwilliam offered his hand to Prudence she hesitated.

  “We can’t leave Anne here alone,” she said.

  “Oh, yes. Of course, we can’t.”

  “Please do not worry about me. I’m happy to remain here and watch the dancing,” Anne said quickly.

  “It would be a poor show indeed if we left you without a companion, and I know your mother wouldn’t be happy,” Prudence said.

  “I do not want to join their group, though,” Anne said quietly. “I shan’t be able to escape for the rest of the evening.”

  “True,” Fitzwilliam mused, and then catching Mrs. Collins’s gaze he walked up to her and whispered in her ear. Smiling at him, Charlotte stood and walked towards Anne.

  “I believe you need some company, Miss De Bourgh,” she said pleasantly, accepting the chair Fitzwilliam quickly obtained for her.

  “Am I taking you away from your friends?” Anne asked.

  “Not at all. My conversation isn’t required in a group of chatterboxes,” Charlotte said diplomatically. Anyone looking at the group would fail to see many interactions taking place. It seemed that Lady Catherine was, as usual, holding court with the occasional comment from Sir James.

  “In that case, I shall welcome your company,” Anne said quietly.

  Fitzwilliam and Prudence left the pair, Charlotte encouraging Anne to speak, whilst the dancing couple took their place in the long-ways set.

  “I could not utter the words properly when at Rosings, but I must say you look beautiful tonight, Cousin,” Fitzwilliam said as they met across the set.

  “You flatter me, Fitzwilliam. I’ve never had the word beautiful associated with my looks. A long Meg, or a robust woman, perhaps,” Prudence responded.

  “I will not have it that those are the best compliments you’ve ever received,” Fitzwilliam said.

  “You forget, I am a worker bee. We are far more focused on making a profit than wasting time on boosting one’s self-esteem.”

  “Is there not time for both?”

  “When Papa meets with his fellow friends, they talk business rather than pleasure. Development in the city is moving so fast there seems no time for changes to be implemented before the next one is being talked about. Perhaps we do not wish to waste a moment.”

  “I’ve never considered it a waste of time, flirting with someone I like.”

  “Is that what we’re doing?” Prudence asked in surprise, but although the words were unexpected, a trickle of pleasure ran through her body.

  “I’d certainly like it to be. Unfortunately, you seem to be determined on a more pragmatic conversation,” Fitzwilliam smiled.

  “I would not know how to start to flirt with someone,” Pru
dence admitted.

  “Would you be willing to learn?”

  Prudence flushed. “Yes. I think I would.”

  Fitzwilliam raised her hand to his lips and quickly dropped a kiss onto her gloved hand. “Good. I was hoping you’d be agreeable. I am beginning to realise this might be the best visit I have ever made to Rosings.”

  It was a good thing they were separated from each other in the dance because the ever-practical Prudence needed a moment to gather her thoughts. She smiled blandly at the gentleman from the next couple as he turned her in the dance sequence, but she wasn’t concentrating on him.

  Fitzwilliam wanted to flirt with her. Was it a serious flirtation or just one to pass a visit that he had to endure rather than enjoy? She knew he was looking for an heiress, but he hadn’t seemed to be bothered about her background, or the little she’d told him of it.

  Shaking herself inwardly, she sighed. Of course he was just funning with her. He had been clear on the type of woman he wished to marry. He didn’t consider her eligible. Why had her mind immediately raced to thoughts of marriage? She wasn’t usually so fanciful. She should just enjoy a flirtation for what it was and then forget him when his visit came to an end.

  A pity then that since the moment she’d met him, she had thought of little else.

  After their second dance, Fitzwilliam accompanied her into the refreshment room and obtained two glasses of lemonade for them.

  “It’s as bad as attending a dance at Almack’s,” he grimaced as he drank the lemonade.

  “Not a place to be rowdily drunk?” Prudence asked with a smile.

  “No. The list of rules is longer than my arm, yet people are desperate to get an invite to it. Never really seen the attraction myself,” Fitzwilliam admitted. “People too full of their own importance for my liking.”

  “You are a simple soul?”

  “Yes. Being at war teaches you to enjoy the small things in life. When in Europe, a bed under cover was a luxury, or a bottle of wine bought or bartered from the locals was exquisite,” Fitzwilliam admitted.

  “True. A day out in the countryside, breathing fresh air and no smog is a delightful way to spend a day for factory workers,” Prudence said. “Something the people of Kent would take for granted.”

  Fitzwilliam gave her a sideways look. “Is life very hard?”

  “It can be,” Prudence admitted. “It’s hard work and long hours, but some of the mill owners are good men and do not mind spending a little of their profit on the welfare of their staff. Not all mind.”

  “And your employer?”

  Prudence seemed to be on the verge of saying something and then changed her mind. “Mine is of the benevolent kind,” she answered.

  “Good.”

  “I must say, Cousin, you aren’t doing well in the flirtation stakes. This is a very serious conversation for a ballroom,” Prudence said with a laugh, changing the subject onto safer topics.

  “I am losing my touch!” Fitzwilliam responded equally as lightly. “Come, I shall return you to our cousin, but I promise a better performance in the future.”

  Returning to Anne, Prudence smiled on seeing Mr. Huxley talking to Anne and Charlotte. It seemed her reserved cousin was gaining a little courage, for although she was blushing beetroot red, she was answering Mr. Huxley with a smile and was animated when speaking.

  Miss Goode had also returned from dancing and was talking to Charlotte. Fitzwilliam and Prudence both headed towards Charlotte, rather than Anne, each not wishing to disturb their cousin.

  After introductions and niceties had been exchanged, Fitzwilliam secured Miss Goode, and they went to join the next dance. Prudence watched their progression in the cotillion with a surprising amount of envy. Miss Goode was very pretty and could clearly flirt far easier than Prudence if Fitzwilliam’s laughter were anything to go by.

  “Miss Goode was telling me she’s just returned from a school in Switzerland. She seems very well travelled,” Charlotte said.

  “Pretty and educated. A perfect combination,” Prudence said, glad her voice didn’t sound bitter. She couldn’t be so uncharitable against a fellow female.

  “And with a healthy dowry. Sir James is convinced she will secure a fine match on her first season. They delayed her come out because she wanted to see some of the world before settling down,” Charlotte continued.

  “I don’t blame her. Going from the schoolroom to a marriage seems very strange. One can have little life experience.”

  “Sometimes that would be of benefit to both the husband and wife,” Charlotte responded with a smile. “Although in Miss Goode’s respect, that will not be the case.”

  “I would imagine she’ll have suitors fighting over her.”

  “Yes. Although Colonel Fitzwilliam could probably fix her attention if he put his mind to it, if their first meeting is any indication of how well they will get on.”

  “You can’t plan a life on the basis of a first meeting!” Prudence exclaimed.

  “Perhaps not, but Colonel Fitzwilliam isn’t getting any younger. He needs to make a short courtship if he wishes to secure someone like Miss Goode. Once they have reached London, there will be beaux aplenty to turn her head. He might not fare so well there.”

  “If an attachment develops on both their parts, I’m sure a trip to London will not alter their affections. It wouldn’t for me.”

  “Not with someone in reduced circumstances like Colonel Fitzwilliam, but for Miss Goode, she will have the pick of the ton,” Charlotte answered authoritatively.

  “How depressingly fickle,” Prudence said.

  Chapter 6

  A knock on her bedchamber door stopped Prudence from becoming depressed from what she’d heard that evening. She couldn’t curse anyone but herself for how the evening had turned out. True, Fitzwilliam had returned to their group and danced with Charlotte and then escorted Anne and Lady Catherine into supper, but she couldn’t shake off the feeling that he’d been smitten with Miss Goode. He would not neglect his duties to his family no matter how delighted he was with the young girl.

  Acknowledging the knock, she wasn’t surprised when Anne entered the room, all flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. Prudence smiled at her cousin.

  “Did you see how attentive he was?” Anne asked, sitting on the edge of the chaise longue.

  “I take it we are discussing Sir James towards Lady Catherine?”

  “Don’t be cruel!” Anne chastised.

  Prudence laughed. “Of course, I saw how attentive he was,” she said. “Our cousin thinks Aunt Catherine would never countenance a match between you. Be careful, Anne. Flirt with him, but do not have your heart broken by your mother’s wishes.”

  Anne’s smile slipped. “I know it is futile. But I do so like him. He is the only man who doesn’t frighten me, apart from Fitzwilliam of course. But he is different.”

  “Your mother would never consider a marriage between you and Fitzwilliam? It surprises me somewhat that she is not encouraging a match between you two. She wanted you to marry Cousin Darcy after all,” Prudence couldn’t resist saying, although depending on the answer, she could be torturing herself even further than she had since she had met Miss Goode.

  “Oh, no! Fitzwilliam is not important enough for mother to give her approval. I’m relieved to say that I would wish a marriage to him as little as one to Darcy, but for different reasons,” Anne said.

  “You seem to be on easy terms with Fitzwilliam.”

  “We are, but he would find life very dull with me. I enjoy the quiet life. Fitzwilliam is a man who is always doing something. I pity him when he is here, for he is like a caged animal,” Anne revealed.

  “I suppose it comes down to his military career.”

  “Possibly. He needs an active life with someone who can challenge him. For, although he is the second son, he’s so charming he is very often spoiled and fussed over.”

  “And does he realise this is how you see him?”

  “No. As you s
ay, I have claws, but they are well-hidden,” Anne grinned at Prudence.

  “Anne, you are definitely my favourite family member,” Prudence responded, pushing aside her inner voice, which accused her of lying as she uttered the words, for that title belonged to a cousin with laughing green eyes and an easy smile.

  *

  Anne felt too tired to venture out of doors the morning after the assembly, so Prudence rode out instead of using the gig.

  Galloping over the fields belonging to the Rosings estate, she let her hat fall onto her back and her hair stream behind her in a tangle of knotted curls. Windswept and exuberant, she brought the horse to a stop and turned it to look back over the hill she had ridden over.

  Seeing a rider following her, she smiled. He looked very well on a horse, as if he’d been born to it, which he probably had.

  She waited until he caught up, his ready smile on his lips.

  “Cousin! I thought I would never catch you,” Fitzwilliam admitted.

  “I had an urge to see the view.”

  Turning reluctantly to look behind him, Fitzwilliam moved until he was close to Prudence. “Looking at you is preferable even to the rolling hills of Kent.”

  “Are we flirting again?” Prudence asked.

  “When you look so fine, it is inevitable,” Fitzwilliam answered.

  “I look like the hoyden my aunt accused me of being and grieve the brushing of my tangled locks that I shall have to endure to make myself presentable for visits later today.”

  An image of brushing her hair for her made Fitzwilliam turn away from Prudence for a moment whilst he gathered himself. He didn’t know what was happening to him with regards to his feelings towards her. It was bad enough that he sought out her company at every possible opportunity, but now he was imagining instances that he’d never imagined with anyone else he had ever met. It was disturbing.

  When his emotions were under control once more, he turned to look at Prudence. He smiled wistfully. She looked beautiful. Windswept, with colour in her cheeks and an exquisitely fitted riding habit made her look like just the type of woman he could feel proud to have at his side.