Perhaps it was a good thing she would be attending Mrs. Harper’s dinner party. As darling as Scamp could be, she missed the liveliness of crowds, the sounds of voices and music, and the flickering of candlelight. She missed talking, laughing, dancing, and feeling like her old self.
Yes, she would go to the soirée. She needed to go. If Lord Knave happened to be there as well, so be it. She would simply have to do her best to avoid him and pretend as though her heart was still whole and complete. Then first thing tomorrow, she would write to her aunt in Sussex and escape Talford Hall as soon as humanly possible.
Something needed to change, and Prudence was determined to do whatever it took to bring about that change.
PRUDENCE WATCHED HER sister through the looking glass while Ruth added the finishing touches to her hair. There was something different about Sophia. She didn’t fuss with her gown like she usually did, she didn’t fret about the color of her hair, nor did she look the least bit anxious. Instead, she appeared confident and in high spirits, as though she had finally let go of the fears she’d clung to so tightly.
Lord Knave’s doing, Prudence thought, trying to be happy for her sister’s sake instead of sad for her own. They seemed to have undergone a bit of a reversal. Sophia now exuded assurance and contentment while Prudence felt a newfound timidity and nervousness.
Also Lord Knave’s doing.
“That rose silk looks much better on you than me,” said Sophia, smiling at her sister. “I don’t know what Mother was thinking when she ordered that color for me.”
“She wasn’t thinking, at least not about you. She has always assumed that if a color looks well on her it should look well on everyone.”
It felt good to talk lightly with her sister again. Over the past several weeks, Prudence had pushed Sophia away, partly to protect herself and partly out of jealousy. Why she’d felt the need, she couldn’t say. It’s not like it had made her life better or easier. On the contrary, she had never felt more alone.
“Thank goodness I have you,” said Sophia. “I would have never chosen this gold lace on my own, but it has become a favorite of mine.”
“You look beautiful, Soph,” said Prudence. She would have added, “Lord Knave won’t be able to take his eyes off you,” if the words hadn’t lodged in her throat.
“Thank you.” Sophia bent towards the looking glass to inspect her complexion, rotating her face from side to side. “I may have gotten a bit too brown during my ride yesterday. Do you think Mother will notice?”
“I doubt it. She’s been far too self-absorbed. Haven’t you noticed she’s been more distressed than usual? Only yesterday I saw her sobbing about something. Do you have any idea what it could be?”
Sophia sat up straight, and a pucker appeared between her brows. She looked both concerned and even… guilty? She pressed her lips together and glanced at Ruth, apparently not wanting to say anything in front of their maid.
She knew something.
Prudence wanted to send Ruth from the room and demand answers, and she might have if a knock hadn’t sounded on the door.
Without waiting for an answer, their mother walked in, looking both lovely and grave. “The carriage is ready,” she announced in a wooden tone. Her stare was neither pleased nor critical, merely… vacant.
What was the matter with her?
Sophia was the first to grab her wrap. “We are ready,” she said, walking past their mother with quick steps.
Prudence was slower to follow. She worriedly eyed her mother as she passed but didn’t say anything.
It was a solemn group in the carriage—her parents staring aimlessly out the window and Sophia twisting her wrap nervously between her fingers. Prudence tried to inquire about the meeting in town, but her father only murmured, “It went as well as it could have under the circumstances.”
Prudence wanted to blurt out, “What circumstances?” She had never felt more perplexed. What did Sophia know? Why did their parents look so grieved? Why had their mother insisted that Prudence come tonight? And why would no one enlighten her about anything?
By the time they arrived at Mrs. Harper’s, Prudence felt cross with her entire family. As soon as she could, she made her escape and went in search of someone in better spirits. Even Mr. Winston would be a blessed change.
As she made her way through the throng, Prudence admired the golden walls and twinkling chandeliers. Card tables had been set up in the far corner with a few games already in progress. Along the back wall, doors opened onto an extensive balcony, allowing fresh air to spill inside. With the bouquets of flowers that had been artistically placed around the room, the ballroom felt almost garden-like. Musicians warmed up their instruments not far from where Prudence stood, and people milled about, talking and laughing.
She had missed this.
“Pru!”
Prudence spun around to clasp hands with her friend, as though it had been ages since they had spoken. It felt like ages.
“How stunning you look, Abby,” said Prudence, admiring her friend’s peach silk dress and white lace gloves. Abby’s father might be absent much of the time, but he saw to it that his daughter was always outfitted in the latest fashions.
“Compliments will not serve, my friend,” said Abby playfully. “I am very cross that you have not come to see me, especially after you promised you would.”
“Do not be cross with me,” said Prudence. “I have been unforgivably preoccupied, I know, but do not say I’ve been a disappointment. I couldn’t bear it.”
“Bear it you must, for you have been a disappointment, but not an unforgivable one. I could never be truly cross with you.”
“Bless you for that,” said Prudence with a smile.
“And don’t you look fetching yourself,” added Abby. “Is that a new gown?”
Prudence peered down at the rose silk dress she wore. “It is one of Sophia’s castoffs. She gave it to me the moment she held it up and realized the rose clashed abominably with her hair. I had forgotten about it until Ruth pulled it from the back of the wardrobe earlier today. Do you really like it?”
“It suits you perfectly, as does that gorgeous knot in your hair.” Abby’s grin turned sly. “One might think there is a certain someone you are trying to impress this evening. Is there?”
The comment did not sit well with Prudence. She had, indeed, taken extra care with her ensemble tonight, but it was not for Lord Knave’s benefit. It was for her own. At least that’s what she had tried to tell herself.
“If you must know,” she said. “I am hoping to impress Mr. Winston.”
Abby laughed. “If that is your aim, it would have been more effective to string a necklace made of wheat about your neck than those pearls, which are lovely, by the way.”
“Thank you. And you are correct, as always. Wheat would have complimented the rose beautifully.”
Abby laughed again. “I have missed you, Pru.”
“And I you. Now tell me, how is your steward’s nephew? I’m afraid I cannot recall his name.”
Abby blushed rosily, and her eyes darted around the room. She clasped Prudence’s arm and pulled her away from the crowd and prying ears. “I simply must tell someone, and you are the obvious choice. William kissed me. Only once, and it was quite harmless, but I enjoyed it.”
Abby probably expected Prudence to be shocked, or perhaps even appalled by this news, but she was neither. Instead she felt a camaraderie with her friend—on most counts, at least.
“Is a kiss ever harmless?” she murmured, remembering a certain kiss had harmed her a great deal.
Abby frowned. “He knows that I am bound for London next season, and by the time I return, he will have found a position elsewhere. The kiss was nothing more than a distraction for both of us.”
Prudence eyed her friend, wondering if her heart was really as unattached as she claimed. “Do you care for him at all?”
The question gave Abby pause. She pressed her lips together and looked aw
ay for a moment or two before answering. “I do care for him. He is kind, amusing, and has taught me a bit about estate management, which I find interesting. He is also so attentive to me, which is not a luxury I have been accustomed to at Chillhorne. I’m very grateful for his friendship, and I did enjoy his kiss, but… well, I cannot explain it exactly. Only that he does not set my heart to pounding. I am comfortable with him, nothing more. Perhaps it is your influence on me, but I should very much like to meet a man who makes my heart pound.”
Prudence nodded slowly, thinking of her views on romance and how silly they now seemed. She had experienced firsthand that pounding heart and felt the disappointment of it keenly. “Comfortable” sounded heavenly and far less hurtful.
“I hope you find what you seek, Abby. I really do.” Silently, she added, And I hope it is not accompanied by the pain I now feel.
“We will both find it. I’m certain of it,” pronounced Abby with a careless grin. There was a happy glow surrounding her, and Prudence felt a pang of envy. She missed grinning and laughing and looking forward to the day for no reason in particular. Lately, a somberness had settled over her, weighing her down and making her feel… well, not happy. Not precisely unhappy either, merely devoid of emotion.
Prudence didn’t care for the feeling at all and would give anything to shake it free, but it wrapped around her like a cocoon, sealing her inside.
“Is something the matter?” Abby asked, peering at her friend with an expression of worry.
“Not exactly.” Prudence forced her lips into a smile. “I simply feel unused to socializing and am not as comfortable in a crowd as I once was.”
“That will never do,” said Abby, taking her by the elbow. “I believe what we need is the Calloway twins. Have you seen them?”
“No.” Prudence scanned the room for their familiar faces, only to stop cold when she spied Lord Knave across the way. Dressed in dark colors, he looked as handsome and wonderful as ever. He smiled and laughed at something Mrs. Harper said before lifting his gaze to hers.
Prudence’s breath caught, her heart lurched painfully, and all she could think was, I should not have come. Heaven help me, I should not have come.
She quickly averted her eyes when a cotillion was announced, and her search for one of the twins turned desperate. Will someone please ask me to dance? At this point she’d take anyone, even Freddy, who would probably trod on her slippers.
As though reading her mind, Mr. Winston suddenly materialized at her side, bowing low over her hand. “Miss Prudence, will you do me the honor?”
“I would love to,” she said quickly, her eyes darting across the room to where Lord Knave still conversed with Mrs. Harper. She sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm her racing pulse. Abby’s hand was claimed as well, and the two friends took their places on the dance floor. Only then did Prudence spot one of the twins. She caught his gaze, sent a silent plea his way, and drew a small measure of relief from his answering grin and nod.
She tried her best to forget about Lord Knave as she danced with Mr. Winston, but it was a difficult feat to accomplish. As soon as Mr. Winston began telling her about the recent birth of a lamb, her mind strayed to Lord Knave. Did he plan to request a dance from her at some point? She would say no, obviously. She had to. Holding his hand, looking into his eyes, and walking through the steps of a dance with him would be her undoing.
Goodness, she needed to stop thinking about him.
She closed her eyes briefly, picturing herself as the haggard wife of Mr. Winston, toiling in the fields, milking cows, and weaving necklaces from the stalks of wheat.
Would it ever come to that?
No. Prudence would become a governess first.
As soon as the dance ended, she gratefully accepted Mr. Calloway’s invitation for the next set. With him, she found it much easier to push thoughts of Lord Knave and haggard wives aside, and by the conclusion of the second dance, she felt much more composed. Her heartbeat had returned to its usual rhythm, and her face no longer felt overly warm.
“I enjoyed myself immensely, Lionel.”
“You mean Felix.”
She swatted his arm playfully. “Do stop teasing me, sir. You cannot claim to be Lionel one moment and Felix the next.”
“But I am Felix.”
“How can that be when it was Lionel who asked me to dance? Never say you lied to me, sir, or I shall be irritated in the extreme.”
He grinned. “In that case, I am most definitely Lionel.”
“You are a scoundrel as well,” she said with a laugh. “Now be a dear and ask Miss Stevenson to dance. She never seems to have much fun at these gatherings, and if anyone can cheer her up, it is you.”
“Your wish is my command.” He didn’t look too thrilled at the prospect, but he bowed nonetheless. Prudence had requested the same favor from Mr. Winston earlier and was happy to see that he’d complied as well. She may not know Miss Stevenson well, but the poor girl often looked so forlorn, standing apart from everyone else, that Prudence was determined to see her enjoy herself for once. If it took begging all of her partners to do the gallant thing, so be it.
Lionel left Prudence with her mother before going in search of Miss Stevenson. Her mother didn’t look much happier than she had before, but at least she didn’t chide her younger daughter for laughing or smiling or drawing too much attention. That was a nice change.
After a moment or two of uncomfortable silence, Prudence spied Abby across the way, looking a good deal happier, so she muttered a quick goodbye to her mother and began making her way towards her friend.
A waltz was announced, and several gasps sounded throughout the room. Even Prudence couldn’t stifle her surprise—or amusement. She and Sophia had attempted to dance it together one rainy afternoon, but they’d exaggerated the movements in a dramatic fashion, giggling the entire time, and hadn’t learned much of anything. Prudence had to commend Mrs. Harper for being daring enough to add it to the program as it would be fun to see others dancing it.
Someday, she really must meet that woman.
“Will you do me the honor of this dance, Miss Prudence?” said an all-too familiar voice at her side. In an instant, her pulse became erratic and her breathing shallow. Why did he have to come to her now? Things had been going so well.
She stared straight ahead, not daring to look at him. She had rehearsed this moment so many times in her head and thought she’d been ready with her response, but she could not remember what that was now.
Dash it all.
“Are you ignoring me on purpose?” She could hear the smile in his voice, and her heart galloped at the sound of it. How she had missed seeing that smile.
Ever so slowly, she turned to face him, trying with all her might to keep the anxiety from her expression. She shook her head and whispered. “I cannot.”
“You cannot ignore me or you cannot dance with me?”
“Both,” she squeaked, her eyes pleading with him to leave her be.
“Why not?” he asked, pretending as though he didn’t already know the answer.
“I…” She grasped for the first excuse that came to mind. “I don’t know how to waltz.”
He grinned, and her stomach gave a little flip. “You’re in luck then. I have danced it numerous times and would be glad to instruct you on the steps. There are only five of them, you know. It’s not difficult to learn, I assure you.”
“I cannot,” she repeated, imploring him not to make a bigger scene than he already had. From the corner of her eye, she could see her mother staring at them disapprovingly, along with several others.
“Of course you can.” He took her by the hand and guided her onto the dance floor. Not wishing to make a scene, Prudence followed, trying with all her might to come up with a way to extricate herself from the situation. He should be asking Sophia for this dance, not her. What was he about? And where were the Calloway twins when she needed them most?
Prudence gasped as Lord Knave rested
his hand at her waist and pulled her close. He felt warm and strong and wonderful and smelled like a mixture of sandalwood and citrus. Any willpower she had left began to crumble like a dried piece of cake.
“You start with your feet together like so and move first to the right—my left—and around in a box-like pattern. Follow my lead,” he whispered in her ear, sending chills down her spine. It took several spins for Prudence to gather her wits about her and learn the rhythm of the movements, and at last she stopped tripping over his feet.
“I knew you would catch on quickly,” he said with a smile.
She glanced around, grateful to see they were not the only couple on the floor. Lionel had followed through on his promise to ask Miss Stevenson to dance, and Abby tried not to wince when Freddy trod on her toes. Even Sophia was there, stumbling through the steps with Felix.
“Why did you ask me to dance and not my sister?” Prudence breathed.
“I have already danced the second set with your sister, and it would be rude of me not to ask you as well.”
“You should have danced the waltz with her,” she hissed, feeling some of her spark return.
“Why would I do that when I wished to dance it with you?” The way he looked at her caused her heart to spin so fast she suddenly felt dizzy.
“You have been avoiding me,” he continued. “Why?”
She glared up at him, despising him for making her say it aloud. “You are to marry my sister, sir.”
He had no reaction to this. He merely continued to spin her around the room. “Do you want me to marry your sister?”
“I…” Prudence floundered. She should say yes. It was the right thing to say, the right thing to want. But it wouldn’t be honest, and while she stretched the truth at times, she couldn’t make herself lie outright. “I want you to do whatever will make you and your parents happy.”
“What if the thing my parents desire is in contradiction to what I desire?” he asked. “What would you have me do then?”
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