The Warrior's Bride Prize
Page 24
‘You mean Bath?’ Temperance interrupted, looking aghast. ‘Activities, yes—like assisting septuagenarians to sip the vile waters! That’s almost as bad as Northumberland!’
‘The city may not be as fashionable as it once was, but anything would be better than rusticating in the country,’ Gregory pointed out.
‘It’s not as large a stage as London, to be sure. But for a lady more interested in a congenial partner than in snagging wealth and a title, it might do. At the very least, you girls would be able to mingle in society and perhaps meet some amiable gentlemen, without whispers of this affair following you everywhere. You’ll gain some town bronze and if you find no one to your liking, there’s still next year in London.’
‘Sounds like an excellent idea,’ Gregory said. ‘And one that seems more likely to get my spinster sisters off my hands than inviting the censure of the ton this Season, as our intemperate Temper proposes.’
‘But most of the ton hostesses know we were supposed to be presented this year,’ Temperance argued. ‘I don’t want them to think I’m a coward—or that I’m ashamed of Mama! It’s not her bad behaviour that precipitated this.’
‘Do you want to make it worse for your mother?’ Aunt Gussie asked sharply. ‘Then, by all means, confront society and aggravate a scandal not of her making into such infamy that you can never be respectably settled!’
When Temperance looked away, her defiant words subsiding in a dull flush, she continued more gently, ‘Your mama would be the first to urge you to be prudent.’
‘Dear Aunt Gussie, always offering sound counsel to keep me from doing something rash,’ Temperance said with a laugh, her anger disappearing as quickly as it had arisen. ‘Very well, I may not attempt to breach the hostile walls of the ton this Season. But neither do I intend to languish in Bath. I’ll stay in London—discreetly showing my support for Mama. Since I have no intention of ever marrying, what difference does it make to me? In the interim, if I promise to send him any treasures I uncover, perhaps I can persuade Papa to release some of the blunt he’s put away for the dowry I won’t need and let me go adventuring in Europe.’
‘But you, darling Sis,’ she said, turning back to Prudence, ‘should go to Bath. And I hope with all my heart you will find there what you are seeking.’
‘You are adamant about remaining in London?’ Aunt Gussie asked Temperance.
‘Much as I will miss Pru, yes, I am.’
‘I’d prefer if you could get Temper out of my hair, too, until this fracas dies down,’ Gregory said to Aunt Gussie, ignoring the face Temperance made at him. ‘But if you can at least take Prudence out of harm’s way, I’ll appreciate it. So the two of you will pack up and leave for Bath as soon as possible?’
‘We will. And hope to find her that agreeable gentleman,’ Lady Stoneway said, with a fond look at Pru.
The very possibility helping her crushed hopes revive, Prudence said, ‘That would be wonderful!’
‘Be careful what you wish for, dear Sis,’ Temperance warned.
* * *
With the family conference ended and their aunt returning to her own home, Prudence and Temperance walked arm in arm back up to their chamber. ‘Are you sure I can’t coax you to come with us? We’ve never been apart! I shall feel so lost without you,’ Pru said, the reality of being without her twin beginning to sink in with dismaying clarity.
She soothed herself with the thought that, painful as their parting would be, at the end of a sojourn in Bath might be new love and support—from a husband. And unlike the twin, who despite her protests to the contrary, must some day marry and leave her, he would love and support her for ever.
‘I shall miss your cautious voice warning me against taking some impulsive and usually rash action,’ Temper was saying, smiling at her. ‘I do think it’s a good idea for Aunt Gussie to take you away, though. Leave London, where, after this latest contretemps, we’re bound to be pointed out and stared at wherever we go.’
Prudence groaned, the truth of that statement bringing a surge of the resentment and prickly discomfort she always felt when going out into public view. ‘Thank you for the reminder. I shall avoid the modiste and finish obtaining any necessary gowns in Bath. It was bad enough last week.’
Temperance laughed caustically. ‘Ah, yes, last week, at Madame Emilie’s. When that whey-faced little heiress kept staring at us?’
‘Very subtle, wasn’t she?’ Pru said, sarcasm lacing her voice. ‘She could hardly wait for us to disappear behind the curtains for our fitting before asking in a horrified “whisper” that could be heard by every shopper in the establishment, “so those are the Scandal Sisters”!’
‘If I hadn’t been clad only in my chemise at that moment, I would have popped out, bowed like an opera dancer taking an encore and cried, “Voila, c’est nous!”’
‘Whereas I would rather have left by the back door.’
‘Only to sneak into the chit’s bedchamber that night and strangle her in her sleep?’ Temper suggested with a grin.
Pru laughed. ‘The notion does appeal. Oh, Temper, I wish I could face it with humour, like you do. But it just grates on me like nails on a slate and all I want is to be rid of it! The scandal, the notoriety, the whispers behind the hands whenever we walk into a room. Oh, to become Mrs Somebody Else, wife of a well-respected man and resident of some small estate far, far from London! Where I can stroll through a nearby village whose residents have never heard of “the Scandal Sisters”, able to hold my head high and be talked about only for my...my lovely babies and my garden!’
‘With a husband who dotes on you, who never tires of hugging you and kissing you and cuddling you on his knee...instead of a father who barely tolerates a handshake.’
Both girls sighed, wordlessly sharing the same bitter memory of years of trying and failing to win the affection of a man who preferred keeping them—and, to be fair, everyone else, including his wife—at a distance. Though Temper persisted in approaching Papa, Pru had given up the attempt.
‘I don’t expect to find the kind of radiant joy Christopher has with his Ellie,’ Pru said softly. ‘All I long for is a quiet gentleman who has affection for me, as a woman and his wife, not a...a relic of infamy and scandal. Who wants to create a family that treats each member with tenderness.’
‘A family like we’ve never had,’ Temper said wryly.
That observation needing no response, Pru continued, ‘To a man like that, I could give all my love and devotion.’
‘Then he would be the luckiest man in England!’ Opening the chamber door, she waved Pru into the room. ‘I shall pray that you discover in Bath the eminently respectable country gentlemen you long for. That he’ll ask you to marry him, settle on his remote estate and give you a flock of beautiful children for me to spoil. Now, we’d better look through your wardrobe and see how many more gowns you’ll need to commission in Bath so you can dazzle this paragon.’
Copyright © 2018 by Janet Justiss
ISBN-13: 9781488086991
The Warrior’s Bride Prize
Copyright © 2018 by Jenni Fletcher
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