My Sister's Intended

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My Sister's Intended Page 19

by Rachael Anderson


  She peered into his beautiful blue eyes and felt herself become lost to them. Goodness, he smelled good. Prudence ached for him to hold her closer still so that she might rest her head against his chest. The room spun around her, blurring like a painting that had been left out in the rain.

  “What is it you want?” she whispered, almost afraid of his answer.

  “You.”

  She missed a step and stepped on one of his boots. She would have stopped dancing if his strong arms hadn’t continued to carry her along. Her heart pranced and her mind whirled as her feet tried to maintain the pace.

  He desires me.

  The thought thrilled her like no other had ever done. It lightened and lifted and twirled her around until another thought tossed her back down.

  I’ve stolen my sister’s intended.

  Merciful heavens, what have I done?

  Music thudded in her ears, sounding more like the clamoring of hooves than a talented orchestra. Voices and laughter and the clinking of crystal only added to the chaos. Prudence had dreamed of a moment like this, she had wanted it so very badly, but not in this way. How could she welcome happiness while her sister faced rejection?

  She couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right.

  Why was Brand telling her this now, in the middle of a crowded room where they had already garnered a great deal of attention by dancing the waltz? What was she to think or do or say? How was she to feel?

  Her body began to tremble at the onslaught of emotions, and tears stung her eyes.

  You will not cry. You will not!

  “Do you care for me?” he asked.

  She wanted to fib and say that no, she didn’t. She wanted him to return her to the outskirts of the room, where she could escape to the privacy of an antechamber and compose herself. She wanted him to stop making this all so wretchedly hard.

  “I do care for you,” she finally admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I should.”

  “Why shouldn’t you?”

  “Please, Brand, I’m begging you,” she whispered, her emotions on the brink of erupting.

  He tightened his hold on her, and as they whirled past the doors leading to the balcony, he pulled her outside. The world still spun, and Prudence might have lost her balance had he not tucked her arm in the crook of his elbow and held her close. A few people milled about, but Brand paid them no mind as he led her to a shadowed corner, away from prying eyes and ears.

  It wasn’t until a breeze whipped around her that Prudence realized how warm she had been in the ballroom. The cool air felt wonderful and served to calm the pounding in her head.

  Brand turned her to face him, taking both of her hands in his. “You have obviously not heard.”

  “Heard what?”

  “Sophia and I have agreed that we will not suit. We do not care for each other the way we should—the way I care for you.”

  She gaped at him. He and Sophia were not to marry? When did this happen? How did she not know? Why hadn’t Sophia or her parents said anything? Did her mother and father even know?

  Suddenly, it all made sense. Her mother’s quiet sobs, her father’s grim expression, the heaviness that had hung over Talford Hall like a cloud of disappointment. They knew. They all knew. Even Lady Bradden had known.

  But… Prudence frowned as she thought of Sophia—the lightness in her eyes, her cheerful disposition, her newfound confidence. Had that only been an act—a way to mask her pain?

  It had to be.

  “Say something,” Brand whispered.

  Prudence shook her head. There were too many words, too many feelings. How could she possibly know what to say? It felt as though she’d been standing unprotected in a meadow when the skies let loose torrents of rain. Shame… Joy… Dread… Wonder… The emotions were all there, pouring down on her in sheets and making her wonder if she might drown in them.

  “Lord Knave, unhand my daughter this instant.”

  Jolted from her thoughts, Prudence looked to see her mother standing before them, trembling with barely controlled anger. She stared at Brand with cold, hard eyes, daring him to defy her. Sophia stood a step behind, looking confused and stricken.

  Prudence wanted to shrink into the shadows and cower from everyone and everything. This was all her doing. Her need to spy on Brand that morning from the tree, arrange to meet him in the clearing, pester him with questions, and beg him to kiss her.

  Her unwillingness to let him go before it was too late.

  Brand slowly released her hands and took a step back, keeping his eyes on her. He seemed to be imploring her to do something, but for the life of her, she couldn’t understand what.

  “Sophia, please ask your father to summon our carriage.”

  Prudence flinched at the sound of her mother’s voice, but it wasn’t until she caught the gleam of unshed tears in her sister’s eyes that she felt the throb of them. It pierced deep inside her, creating a hole that might never mend.

  A crowd of people began to cluster around them, witnessing the horrible scene. Prudence took in the familiar faces before looking back to Brand, silently pleading with him to say or do something to right the wrong she felt in her heart.

  He didn’t. He merely offered her a curt bow and a look of remorse. “I shall call on you tomorrow, Miss Prudence.”

  “You will do no such thing,” hissed her mother.

  Brand’s jaw tightened as he directed a steely gaze at the woman. “I shall call on you as well, Mrs. Gifford. We have much to discuss. Good evening to you.”

  His eyes lingered on Prudence for a moment longer before he strode away, taking all the warmth with him. As soon as he disappeared into the throng, Prudence felt the chill in the air. She wrapped her arms around herself and caught Abby’s saddened gaze.

  A great gulf seemed to open between her and those around her, swallowing up their good opinions. Even Abby and the Calloway twins stood on the other side.

  How had this happened?

  You have too many secrets.

  Prudence had once read that everyone ought to be allowed a secret or two. It had sounded so harmless and perhaps even wise, but she didn’t think so any longer. When secrets created a wall between people, as they had done with her and her sister and her friends, they most definitely should not be allowed.

  PRUDENCE WOULDN’T HAVE believed it possible, but the drive home from the soirée was far more somber than the ride there. Sophia trained her gaze out the window, not sparing her sister even a glance, and her mother had a stony set to her jaw. Her father appeared neither pleased nor displeased, merely thoughtful in a worried sort of way. No one uttered a word.

  Prudence loathed the silence. She wanted to fill it with explanations, apologies—something—but the words evaded her. They sat jumbled in her head, no more sorted by the end of the ride than the beginning.

  Sophia went straight to her room, leaving Prudence to face her parents alone. They ushered her into the study and closed the door while she stood in the shadows, head held high as she awaited the accusations.

  “How could you?” whispered her mother. Her words contained no bite, only disappointment, which surprised Prudence. She had expected a severe scolding.

  “I did not mean for it to happen, Mother. I—”

  “You don’t understand. You never have.” Her mother dropped down on the sofa in a gesture of defeat. “You have been blessed with everything—beauty, talents, a vivacious personality, and a kind heart. I have always known that men would be drawn to you over your sister. I wanted to keep you at home for another year, but your father convinced me it would not be fair. Your sister’s illness was not your doing, and you should not be punished because of it. But that did not keep me from worrying.”

  Prudence stood as still as she could, but her body trembled from the weight of it all. Her mother had told her of this concern before, but Prudence hadn’t paid it much heed. She had thought it silly and unwarranted, but not anymore.

  “There is something else you do
not know,” her father said, sounding weary. He approached the fireplace and stared down at the remnants of a burnt log on the grate.

  “Years ago, we made the mistake of replacing our solicitor after a… worrisome occurrence. Unbeknownst to us, our new solicitor began falsifying numbers and stealing from the estate. When everything came to light, he disappeared, taking the bulk of our capital with him. We would have lost everything if not for the kindness of your Uncle James. He enabled us to remain at Talford, but only just. The effects of our solicitor’s deceit still hangs over us and probably always will. We have never told you or Sophia of this because we didn’t want our worries to become yours, but the truth of the matter is that we have next to nothing. Your sister is heiress to a barely surviving estate, and you will inherit nothing. We cannot provide you with even the smallest of dowries.”

  “We had it all planned out,” inserted her mother. “Sophia would marry Viscount Knave, they would see to it that you had a London season, and you would make a successful match as well. I have never worried about you as I have Sophia. She does not have your looks or talents, and although our family is respectable, we claim no exalted connections. Her inheritance is all she has to offer, and what gentleman would consider Talford Hall, in its current state of debt, an inducement?

  “Do you understand now, my dear girl? Lord Knave was your sister’s one chance to make a successful match. I know London society, and I know she will not take, especially without a proper dowry. If Lord Knave intends to marry you in her stead, only think of the additional damage that will do to your sister. Should you marry first, you will be sealing Sophia’s fate as a spinster. Under any other circumstance, we would be thrilled that you have secured the affections of such an eligible man, but how can we when it comes at the expense of your sister?”

  Prudence could remain standing no longer. Her legs gave way, and she sank down on a nearby chair. Yes, she understood now. Not only had she stolen Lord Knave but she’d taken away her sister’s chance for happiness.

  Was that really the case? Had Prudence ruined everything? Was there no hope at all for Sophia? No. She refused to believe it. She had more faith in her sister than that.

  “We do not tell you these things to injure you, my dear,” said her father. “You say you did not mean for this to happen, and we know that is true. You do not have a malicious bone in your body. We simply wanted you to understand why we cannot be happy by this evening’s turn of events.”

  Prudence nodded, thinking of Brand. She pictured him standing before her in the clearing, his eyes crinkling at the edges when he smiled and his lips quirking as he tried not to laugh. He had accepted her without judgment, helped her with her stories, and became her confidant and her friend. No. He had become more than that. A mere friend would not cause her heart to soar at the sight of him or turn her world topsy turvy with a kiss.

  She adored him. She cherished him. She loved him.

  That was the tragedy.

  Love shouldn’t feel like this. It should be thrilling and exciting and magical—and it had been for a few precious moments. Prudence had felt all those wondrous emotions. But with that wonder came shame and guilt and the realization that love did not treat people fairly. It embraced some and forgot others, and where was the wonder in that?

  With a heavy heart, Prudence pushed herself to her feet, glad that at least one secret had surfaced this evening even though it had been a heartbreaking one. Now that she understood her family’s situation better, Prudence saw her mother in a different, kinder light. Instead of the strict, controlling woman Prudence had always thought her to be, she’d become… a mother. A person who cared and worried and wanted what was best for both of her daughters.

  Prudence swallowed against the raw lump in her throat. “I am so sorry. Please know that if there is something I can do to set things to rights, I will do it. I did not mean for any of this to happen.”

  “We know, my dear,” said her father. “We know.”

  Prudence could stand it no longer. She turned and fled the room, not stopping until she had reached her bedchamber. Once there, she paused on the threshold, drew in a shuddering breath, blinked back her tears, and held herself together long enough to be helped into her nightclothes. Only after Ruth left did Prudence crawl into bed, gather Scamp to her, and finally let the tears come.

  AS SOON AS the sun began to glow through the clouds on the horizon, Prudence collected her half-written story from the box beneath her floorboards and walked across the hallway to her sister’s bedchamber. The room was dark and quiet, and at first Prudence thought her sister was still asleep, but Sophia lifted her head to glance at her sister, only to drop it back down with a thud.

  “I hope you slept better than I did,” Sophia muttered, stifling a yawn.

  At least she was speaking now. Prudence went to the windows and pulled the coverings aside, letting the early morning light invade the room. Sophia groaned and rolled to her side, but she didn’t insist her sister close them again.

  “I didn’t sleep a wink either,” said Prudence as she climbed onto the bed and tucked her legs beneath her, fingering the stack of foolscap on her lap.

  Sophia opened one eye and frowned at the pages. “What are those?”

  Before she could lose her nerve, Prudence pushed the unfinished manuscript towards her sister. “I don’t just like to read novels, I like to write them. Someday, I hope to be a novelist.”

  Sophia slowly lifted her head, looking at the pages in surprise, her long, red braid falling forward.

  “I first encountered Lord Knave near his hunting lodge when I went to spy on him the morning after the Hilliard’s ball. I overheard him make an assignation with Mrs. Harper, and I wanted to investigate, thinking I would uncover enough proof to convince you that he was not worthy of you. I was also curious about what they might say or do. All I knew about romance came from books, and I wanted to witness something real. What I saw, however, was a meeting between two friends for the sole purpose of putting another friend and husband’s memory to rest. There was nothing remotely romantic—or nefarious—about their assignation. In fact, I came away feeling as though he might be worthy of you after all.”

  Prudence continued her story, leaving nothing out. She told Sophia how he had learned about her scribblings, how she had offered to help him with her sister if he would help her with her story. She told Sophia about the kiss she had practically begged him for, about their agreement not to meet in the woods any longer, about the buried box and what she had thought was a harmless exchange of notes.

  “Only it wasn’t harmless. I eventually realized that and determined I would never return. I planned to write Aunt Madeline this very morning, asking if I could come for an extended visit.”

  Prudence swallowed, hoping her sister wouldn’t despise her forever. “I never set out to get in the way of his attachment to you, but I managed to do exactly that. I am so dreadfully sorry, Soph. I am sorry I did not tell you about my scribblings. I am sorry I didn’t give you a full account of our encounters in the woods. I am sorry I convinced myself that I was doing you a service when it was a monumental disservice. I am sorry for everything.”

  Sophia had no answer to this. She merely propped her head up with her hand and picked up the first page of Prudence’s story. Only after she had skimmed through it did she look at her sister. “You’re a writer?”

  “Not really. At least not yet,” said Prudence. “I only want to be one.”

  “Does Mother know?”

  “Heavens no.”

  “Father?”

  Prudence shook her head.

  “Abby?”

  “No.”

  “Only Lord Knave?”

  “And you.”

  “Why did you not tell me before?”

  Prudence drew her knees to her chest and pulled her nightdress around her ankles. “I was afraid that if you knew, you would think less of me. How silly that concern seems now. I would rather you think me imprudent
than a cold-hearted thief.”

  Sophia set the pages aside and considered her sister. After a few moments, she spoke. “I will confess to feeling betrayed by you last night, but that was the only reason for my sorrow—that and the disappointment I caused Mother and Father. Lord Knave was right to walk away from our arrangement. Although we became friends, I never could be myself when I was with him. We were trying to make something work that was not meant to work, and it always felt like… well, work really.

  “Yesterday, when I went out riding, I realized something. For the first time in years, a wonderful feeling of liberation surrounded me. I know Mother and Father worry that I will never marry, and maybe I won’t, but I am no longer afraid of that outcome. I would rather become a spinster than marry someone who made me feel trapped the rest of my life. Don’t you see, Pru? You have not stolen anything from me. On the contrary, you have set me free. You have opened the door for me to seek my own happiness, whatever that may be. How could I possibly think less of you for that?”

  Tears welled in Prudence’s eyes, and she leaned forward to throw her arms around her sister. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “Marry him, Pru, if that is your wish,” whispered her sister. “I will be all right.”

  An overwhelming feeling surged through Prudence, teaching her about the power of forgiveness and love and selflessness. Not only did it mend past hurts and misunderstandings, but it forged a bond between her and her sister unlike anything Prudence had ever felt. They had always been close, but now nothing stood between them. They were sisters in every sense of the word.

  Sophia pulled away, wiping away tears of her own. She sniffed and pointed to the stack of papers. “Can I read this?”

  “It’s not finished,” said Prudence. Perhaps it never would be.

  “I don’t care about that. And who knows, maybe I can be of assistance?” It was a question—one that brought to mind Brand’s earlier words.

  Why not make her your confidant?

  Why not indeed?

  Prudence should have done so long before now. The day she had used what little pin money she had to purchase some pencils and paper instead of ribbon and lace was the day she should have trusted her sister with her innermost desires. Sophia might have laughed. She might have thought her sister mad. But perhaps she would have also offered to read her scribblings as she had just done.

 

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