He picked up his cloak. “I don’t want to leave you. But I know it won’t help either of us if I stay.”
Prudence felt a sharp gash open in her heart at the thought of not seeing him again. It was a possibility if his period of consideration led to a different decision.
For a few moments her resolve wavered. All she had to do was say yes and she could have the very thing she’d always dreamed of. A man who truly loved her and would take care of her. A man she would love back every bit as much.
But then reality intruded on her dream and she returned to being practical. Being illegitimate was a mark, a brand, that could destroy Reid and bring down the Chillendale name.
It would only take one breath of such a scandal to seriously impact the market for their ale; especially in those exalted places where nobodyeversinned. Such as the many London distributors whose carriages regularly delivered barrels of the stuff to the best gambling clubs and brothels. Places where many diverse sins were committed under the cover of titled privilege, but where a bride of unknown parentage could ruin a man in weeks.
Reid was still looking at her, his cloak over his arm. “You’re thinking, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “Yes. Too much perhaps.” Straightening her shoulders, she walked to him, put a hand on his chest and leaned in, giving him a gentle kiss. “Go Reid. Let us take the time to consider the future. It is important, you know. To more than just us.”
“I know.” He smiled. “You are as wise as you are beautiful.”
She snorted. “Out, Mr. Chillendale.”
He swept her a bow. “I shall see you at the Mistletoe Ball, Lady Prudence. Remember. Green is the order of the day.”
“I won’t forget.”
*~~*~~*
It turned out to be the longest few days of Reid’s life. His thoughts were filled with Prudence from the moment his eyes opened in the morning, to the last moment of consciousness at night.
He continued to do his duties and his chores, working in the brewery on the latest batch of ale, and performing a variety of requests for his mother, who was now hip-deep in preparations for the Mistletoe Ball.
Since both parents were busy, he had plenty of time to think his own private thoughts and spent the first couple of days in personal reflection, preferring to wait to share anything with his parents until he knew that his mind and his heart had reached the same decision.
Which sounded very calm and collected, but of course it really only took three minutes for him to realize that Prudence wasit. The One. The Only.
He told himself he wouldn’t have cared if she were a dairymaid or a duchess. He had fallen head over heels in love with Prudence, the woman. The circumstances of her life had made her who she was. Would she have been different if she had known her father? If there wasn’t a taint of illegitimacy in her bloodline?
He didn’t know. Perhaps she would have been other than who she was now. In which case he might not have loved her the way he did.
The more he turned the matter over in his mind, the more certain he became. There were no doubts, no concerns, no hesitations. He’d waited a long time to feel this way and there was no possibility that his emotions would change.
So at the end of two days, he asked his parents to both join him in the small salon after dinner, because he needed to talk to them about something important.
His mother eyed him askance as she settled herself in front of the fireplace. “What’s this about, Reid?”
“It’s about the woman I’m going to marry.”
“Lady Prudence?” Lady Jocelyn nearly fell off her chair. “She said yes?”
Reid raised his hand. “Wait. There is more. I have indeed asked for her hand. The problem is that I’m not sure I can convince her to give it to me.”
“Why the devil not, son?” His father raised his eyebrows. “I should have thought you have a lot to offer the right woman.”
“And I do sir, thanks to you and Mama.” He gave them both a respectful little bow. “But the thing is,shedoesn’t thinkshe’ssuitable. And that’s the hitch. Nothing to do with my side of the matter. I know she’s right for me and that’s all there is to it.”
His mother frowned. “I don’t understand. Certainly, she’s a widow. That isn’t perhaps the most desirable situation, but not her fault…” She looked at Reid. “What is it?”
“The circumstances of her birth, Mama. That’s the problem.”
There was a brief silence.
“In what way?” Sir Rodney posed the question.
