He feared she could easily change his mind to get her way if she chose, when no woman had succeeded thus far in his life. But somehow knowing it didn’t unnerve him, as it once might have done. He wanted to please her. And there was something else he’d much rather do, when this matter was settled.
Dear God! Was he lost? His friend Damian had told him he wouldn’t escape forever. “You need love in your life, Jack,” he’d said. “Eventually, you’ll succumb.”
“You think so, do you?” he’d responded.
“I’m so sure of it, I’d put money on it in White’s betting book.”
Jack supposed he’d be in for a ribbing. He hated it when Damian was right.
Chapter Eighteen
The trip backto Richmond was spent mostly in comfortable silence. Prue was too weary to do anything but sit and try not to lean against Jack’s inviting shoulder. She was intent on giving the appearance of being capable and strong, even though she doubted it herself.
At Waterford Manor, Gramma rushed out as Jack stopped the curricle outside the front door. Prue climbed down and ran to her before a footman’s help could be offered. They hugged, close to tears.
Prue drew away and gazed anxiously into Gramma’s face. “How awful it’s been. I hope the worry didn’t affect you too much.”
Gramma raised her eyebrows. “I’m stronger than you might think, Prudence.”
Prue smiled. “I have so much to tell you.”
“I am eager to hear it.” Gramma put Prue gently aside and turned to Jack as he crossed the drive to them. “I can’t thank you enough, my lord,” she said. “I’m quite sure that if not for you, Prudence would still be lost to me.” She drew in a quick breath. “Perhaps forever.”
Jack raised her hand to his lips. “I am extremely relieved to be able to restore Lady Prudence to you.”
“I have so many questions,” Gramma said. “Will you join us for tea or a glass of wine?”
“I’m afraid I cannot stay to answer them. Forgive me. I am neededin London. If you’ll permit it, Lady Aldridge, I’ll send a man to keep guard until this business can finally be resolved.”
“That is good of you,” Gramma said. “Prudence and I would be grateful. Bow Street has offered little assistance.”
“Mr. Fred Warren will be here before nightfall. He’s a good man. Please tell him how best he may serve you.” He replaced his hat. “Now, I must go.”
Prue walked with him to the curricle, where his groom waited. “You won’t forget to contact me?”
He cocked an eyebrow, but his eyes smiled. “Do you doubt me?”
“No, Jack. Of course I don’t.”
He tapped her on the chin with a finger. “Try not to be too impatient.”
She hated to see him go. A hollow feeling settled in her chest. How could she bear it when he was finally gone from her life? Prue watched until the curricle disappeared into the avenue of trees. Then she followed Gramma into the house.
The butler’s craggy face broke into a warm grin. “Welcome back, Lady Prudence.”
“Thank you, Barnes. I’m very happy to be here.” Prue smiled at the old butler before following Gramma up the staircase.
Seated in the drawing room by the fire, she sipped a welcome, hot cup of tea while watching Gramma’s otter tossing about a ball of wool with great agility. Prue began to talk about the terror of the last few days, while Gramma listened, her face reflecting the distress she’d suffered, despite her denial.
Prue grew silent, running out of words, her chest heaving.
“My poor girl,” Gramma said, placing an arm around her. “You are safe now.”
It seemed as if Prue had been away for such a long time. As if she’d awoken from a nightmarish dream. But this was not over yet, and she must remain on her guard. It would be foolish to believe Roland hadgiven up. With his back to the wall, her ruthless cousin could still have some foul deed in mind. Was it only money that drove him to behave so brutally? It wasn’t because he loved her. She was quite sure he didn’t. He had inherited a fine estate, which provided an income, and with clever management, and employing modern methods, Roland could improve his returns considerably. If he’d been a different man, she could have helped him by telling him of the plans her father had had for the estate.
She put down her teacup and rose to feed Horace a piece of apple from a plate on the table. He chewed it, then squawked and flapped his wings, wanting more.
“Oh, very well.” Prue turned back to the table for another piece.
