Chapter Nine
Given their nocturnal activities, it wasn’t surprising that Reid slept soundly for several hours and didn’t wake until cool air wafted around his bare backside.
With a groan he turned over, grabbed more blanket and reached for Prudence.
Who wasn’t there.
This, thought Reid, was getting to be a bit annoying. He was going to have some strong words with her the next time he saw her about this nasty habit of disappearing on him. And after a night such as the one they’d just shared—well, it was downright unacceptable.
He sat up, stretched and sighed. It was light, a bright snow white light, that told of the storm he’d seen in the clouds. He hoped the horse was there, or had she taken it?
He shook his head. It was a good thing he was completely bewitched by her or he would have taken her over his knee at that moment. Which thought led to other thoughts and even more thoughts…
He groaned, ignored his growing arousal and slid from the bed into the cool air. Since he was planning on leaving, there was no need for more wood, and he dressed hurriedly, relishing the warmth of his breeches and his socks.
At least she’d left his cloak. He grabbed it and left, securing the door and happy to find his mount where he’d left it, snow-free and apparently undisturbed by the fresh covering of white stuff outside its shelter.
Trying to find Prudence’s tracks was futile, of course. There were indentations around the door, but it was impossible to tell how large, how many or if there had been horses. A tracker might be able to distinguish something useful, but Reid wasn’t that talented.
He untied the reins and mounted, turning the horse for home. And all the way there, he wondered if she’d left to preserve appearances and get to the inn before dawn, or if she’d left because she was done with him.
And who the hell was there to help her? Because even she, strong and determined woman that she was, couldn’t walk that distance in snow.
All questions to which he had no answers, which frustrated him, confused him and—though he hated to admit it—scared the hell out of him.
She had crashed into his life like a fireball from the heavens and turned it upside down. They’d spent so little time together, but those few hours had been filled with the most extraordinary passions. And in those few hours, Reid had lost his heart.
Prudence was the woman he’d waited for. The only one who could drive him out of his comfortable existence and show him what life could be when one loved the right person.
He lowered his head as his horse ambled toward the lights of Chillendale Hall. He’d really mucked things up.
It got worse.
The household was awake when he arrived, and by the looks of things had been up all night.
Bunbury caught sight of him and, forgetting himself, rushed over with the clear intent of hugging him.
Reid backed into the wall, holding out a hand. “I’m quite fine, Bunbury. Don’t fuss.”
Bunbury straightened and frowned. “Fuss? Mr. Reid, there’s beenno endof a fuss. You never came home last night and nobody knew where you were. My Lord is about to send out a search party and I doubt your Lady mother slept a wink. So don’t talk to me about fuss. You are theironly son.” He took a breath. “Pardon my impertinence, but it’s time you remembered that.” He spun on his heel and stalked off.
Reid blinked. He’d just been soundly reprimanded by the butler.
And, sadly, he was well aware that he deserved it.
*~~*~~*
“Well. The prodigal son returns.”
Reid gritted his teeth as he walked in to breakfast and found his parents already there. His father was seated at the end of the table, giving him the raised eyebrow.
His mother was filling her plate, but she put it down when she saw him and rushed to hug him. “Sometimes I swear you really are a devil sent to plague me, Reid Chillendale.” She continued to hug him as he hugged her back. Then she kissed his cheek and let him go. “Do that again and I will take the carpet beater to your backside and make you regret it.”
“Mama, Father…I am sorry. Really. I had no intention of causing a fuss.” He shot a glance at Bunbury who stood silently in the corner, doing his best to not obviously pay attention.
“Well you did.” His mother stalked back to the server. “We were at our wits end.”
“I am of a mind to mention that I’m nearly thirty years old, you know.” He picked up a plate. “And I’m fairly sensible and able to look after myself.”
