Prudence plucked a dishcloth from behind the sink and washed the first mug. “At a ball.” It was the first thing that came to her mind—and the most innocuous.
“Did you fall in love immediately?” Mrs. Logan grinned.
“No.” Prudence hoped the woman didn’t press her for details. She’d have to inform Bennet of what she said so they could keep their stories straight. Anxiety stabbed at her as she wondered whether Bennet had already told her anything.
“Why did you decide to elope?”
“What did his lordship tell you?” Prudence asked, hoping to avoid giving her conflicting information if Bennet had in fact spoken to her already. She handed the mug to Mrs. Logan to dry.
Mrs. Logan’s cheeks tinged faintly pink. “I didn’t ask him. I shouldn’t have asked you either.”
Prudence didn’t want the woman to feel bad. Mrs. Logan was very nice, and Prudence didn’t like that they were lying to her. The woman wouldn’t appreciate having them sharing a room under her roof given the truth of their circumstances. It was beyond indecent.
“I’m afraid we were impatient to be wed,” Prudence explained. “The banns take too long. Although, if we’d known the weather would keep us here for so many days, we wouldn’t have bothered.” Prudence finished washing the next mug and gave it over to Mrs. Logan to dry.
“Oh, it is certainly bad luck.”
“I wonder if that means we shouldn’t wed,” Prudence mused.
Mrs. Logan gaped at her. “Of course not! Anyone can see you are meant to be together. You must marry!”
Prudence had picked up the next mug and promptly dropped it into the sink. Thankfully, it didn’t break. “I don’t know how you see what you do, but I appreciate your support.”
“About what?” Bennet’s question sounded through the kitchen as he moved inside from the exterior door followed by Mr. Logan, the stable master, and a few other men.
Mrs. Logan moved on to drying another mug Prudence had washed. “I was just telling her ladyship that it’s clear you and she are meant to be together, in spite of this bad luck with the weather and your poor coach.”
Bennet’s gaze found hers as she looked over her shoulder at him while scrubbing the final mug. There was mirth—and heat—in his gaze.
Prudence finished with the mug and handed it to Mrs. Logan. She turned, drying her hands on her apron. “I told her we eloped because we were impatient.”
“That is certainly true,” Bennet said with a nod. “What else did you tell her?”
“That we met at a ball.” Prudence gave him a look in which she tried to convey her concern at having to answer such questions.
“There’s soup and fresh bread, baked by our very own Lady Prudence,” Mrs. Logan said proudly.
Bennet looked toward the loaf Prudence had taken from the oven. “You baked that?”
“I did.”
“Astonishing,” he murmured. “It looks delicious.”
Mrs. Logan took several bowls down from the shelf. “My lord, why don’t you and her ladyship go sit in the common room. I’ll bring your food in.”
“I can eat in here with everyone else.”
“Nonsense,” Mr. Logan said. “You’ve been kind enough to help us, dirtying yourself as you have when the storm has destroyed your coach.” He shook his head. “I feel quite terrible about that.”
“It isn’t your fault,” Bennet assured him.
“Still, I’d feel better if you and her ladyship sat down together.”
“All right, then.” Bennet smiled at him and moved toward the corridor leading to the common room.
Prudence looked to Mrs. Logan. “Shall I slice the bread?”
“Go on now.” Mrs. Logan waved her out of the way. “You’ve more than earned a respite.”
“Come, we are being expelled,” Bennet murmured as he gently took Prudence’s arm and guided her from the kitchen.
His touch was warm and familiar. She liked it more than she ought.
When they reached the common room, Bennet released her and tended the fire. Prudence realized she was still wearing the apron.
“You look exceedingly domestic,” he said, straightening from the hearth to hold her chair.
“Is that a good thing?”
“If you were actually my betrothed, yes. My future wife may need to be able to cook and clean.” He grinned at her as he slid into his chair.
There was dirt on his cheek, and his clothing was disheveled. He wasn’t wearing a cravat. She avoided looking at the small triangle of flesh exposed at the base of his throat. Mostly.
“Then perhaps it’s too bad for you that I’m not your betrothed,” she said sweetly, provoking him to laugh. She gave him a serious look. “I was worried I might say something to Mrs. Logan that would contradict something you said. About us, I mean.”
“I didn’t tell her anything specific. Certainly nothing so detailed as us having met at a ball.”
“What was I supposed to say?” she asked in a hushed tone. “That you kidnapped me by mistake, and we just fell completely in love?” She rolled her eyes.
He reached across the table and took her hand, surprising her so that she froze. “Thank you for saying what you did. I think I’d like to see you at a ball. Dance with you, even.” He let her go and settled back in his chair, his eyes dancing.
Heat flushed through her again. Thankfully, Mrs. Logan came in to provide a welcome distraction. She served their bowls of soup, bread with butter, and two mugs of ale. “I’ll bring tea in a while.”
“You look rather domestic too,” Prudence said. “What sort of things do you do at your estate?”
“Nothing like this,” he answered, buttering a thick slice of bread. “Yet. The number of retainers has been whittled down, but there are still people working there.” He set down the knife and stared at her. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Provoke me to say things I would normally never reveal.”
Prudence shifted in her chair. He’d done the same thing to her more than once. They were sharing secrets, flirting, behaving domestically, and apparently seemed as if they were madly in love.
She took a long drink of ale. Their departure—and separation—couldn’t come soon enough.
Chapter 6
Bennet hadn’t meant to sleep as late as he did, but he’d been fairly exhausted yesterday after cleaning up from the storm. He’d nearly fallen asleep at dinner which had prompted Prudence to offer him the bed, meaning she’d take the pallet. He’d soundly refused. Honestly, he could have slept suspended in midair and wouldn’t have noticed. He couldn’t remember ever being that tired.
Today, they would work on the damaged stable. The rain had stopped, and the sun was even peeking from behind a cloud. Bennet went to join the others, who’d already been at work for a while, it seemed.
“You should have woken me,” Bennet said with a smile to Mr. Logan.
“I considered it,” Logan said. “But then Mrs. Logan threatened me if I did. She said you needed to rest. If I can give you one piece of advice about marriage, it’s that you should listen to your wife. Especially if she threatens you.”