A Prudent Match Read Online Free

for a wife. He needs someone who will meet him word for word, else he will think he can ride roughshod over you. And that would be disastrous for you both.”
    “My sister jests,” Ledbetter hastened to interpose. He captured his bride's hand and once again placed it on his arm. With a slight frown he said to Harriet, “You will alarm my bride with such talk, dear. I'm sure I am the most reasonable of creatures, unlikely to do anything so uncivil as to ride roughshod over anyone.”
    Harriet's lips twitched but she merely nodded. “As you say, Will.”
    And then Ledbetter led Prudence out the front door and down the stairs to the gravel drive where his carriage waited. Her family followed a discreet distance behind them, only calling out their farewells when the newlyweds were seated in the luxuriously appointed interior and the postillions had begun to move forward. Prudence waved out her window until they had passed beyond the courtyard, and then she settled back against the squabs with a sigh.
    “You're tired, my dear,” Ledbetter remarked. “Perhaps you could fall asleep for a space if your were to rest your head on my shoulder.”
    “I believe I might,” Prudence agreed. “I'm afraid the champagne went to my head, and though my mind has cleared now, I feel excessively tired.”
    “Come, then.” He leaned over to remove the delightful confection from her head, setting it carefully on the seat opposite them. Prudence still sat rather stiffly beside him and he smiled his most charming smile. The carriage swayed as they swept from the driveway onto the country road, propelling Prudence toward him. Swiftly he snared her against him with one firm arm. “There. That's just right. Tuck you head just so and you'll be asleep in no time at all.”
    There was no reply from his bride, though she did settle comfortably against him. He liked the weight of her on his side, and he kept his arm around her to prevent her being dislodged when the carriage bumped along the ill-paved roads. Ledbetter hadn't experienced the emotion of protectiveness before, and he was rather taken with the notion of having a wife to guard against the ills of climate, transport, and hunger.
    Of course, he'd been protector to a number of young women in London. Sequentially, as he had no taste for the kind of bickering he'd seen between two women both in keeping by the same man. A dubious policy in any case, to his mind. Why would a man have need of more than one woman to satisfy his needs? And if a particular woman lost her appeal for you, why would you bother to keep her any longer? Any sensible man would simply offer her a handsome parting gift and move on.
    All this, of course, had nothing to do with having a wife. Since Ledbetter had not had one before, he was not precisely sure whether it would be necessary to have a woman in keeping any longer, though he suspected that it would. Most of his acquaintance seemed to do so, at all events. There was a good deal of sotto voce talk of “not wishing to impose on the dear woman,” with regard to a wife. Imposing on a mistress was the whole point, of course. A civilized system, he supposed, but he had a moment's pause in looking down at his sleeping bride.
    It did seem a duplication of effort, to say nothing of a great waste of money, to have two women in keeping, especially if one of them was your wife. Ledbetter felt fortunate that he had no other woman in keeping at the moment, as Jenny had found a baker in Spencer Street who wished to make an honest woman of her. Well, more power to her. Ledbetter hoped she would enjoy the life of a shopkeeper as much as she had enjoyed that of a lightskirt. Certainly her husband should appreciate her lusty attitude toward life.
    Given the direction of his thoughts, it was not surprising that the baron began to experience a certain physical interest in the woman whose head had gradually drifted down until it rested in his lap. A tendril of her hair curled against