by Maya Rodale
Then, gently, he said, “I’ll come back for you. And Mum.”
“Where are you going, anyway? Where can you go?”
“I’m off to seek my fortune,” John said, grinning faintly and cupping her face in his hands. “Then I’ll come back for you and Mum and we’ll live someplace nice.”
“You’ve been reading too many novels,” she said, with a roll of her eyes. He did spend every free moment with a book borrowed from the house’s vast library. It wasn’t like anyone else in the house read them.
“Maybe you haven’t been reading enough.”
“As if I had time . . .”
He picked up the valise. Hand on the doorknob, he paused. Looked back.
“One day, I promise you will have nothing to do but sit around and read novels in the most luxurious setting, with servants waiting on you hand and foot.”
“You’d better go get that fortune, because I could fancy that,” Martha said. His memory wouldn’t let him forget the tears he saw in her eyes.
He left shortly after that, taking one long look back at Blackhaven Manor. He knew he could never go back.
The Coach & Horses Inn
“How do you know all of this?” Prudence had asked. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her. One answer would only lead to more questions that he couldn’t answer without ruining everything.
“I just know,” John said with a shrug before lowering himself into a chair. “My sister. When I had to leave, I made sure she was able to defend herself.”
“Why did you have to leave?”
“There might have been a fight. Not unlike today,” Castleton replied with a grimace.
“Did you duel?” she asked nervously. Lords were known to duel and then be forced to flee if their shots hit home. He could see her concocting a romantically tinged story with lords and ladies and duels for honor.
“It was less civilized than that,” he said, his mouth settling into a grim line. Then he turned the tables on her. “What are you running from, Prudence?”
“What makes you think I’m running?”
“What else would you be doing here, when you should be in London, drinking chocolate and reading gossip rags?” Castleton asked, his blue eyes settling on her and making her feel things. Warm, tingly, scary things.
Prudence looked out the window. It was too complicated to explain. She wasn’t quite ready to tell him about Lady Penelope’s Ball, and Cecil, and how her best friends had suddenly gotten married when she’d planned on them being a trio of spinsters. What it all came down to, really, was that thing The Beast had done to her and how her whole life had been reduced to making sure it never happened again. Unfortunately, she’d missed a lot of life that way.
And still it had almost happened again.
Because Castleton knew the awful thing that had happened to her and still smiled at her, she tried to explain, when she wouldn’t have otherwise.
“There’s what I want, you see. Then there’s what I’m afraid of. Sometimes it’s the same thing.”
It was the closest she could get to saying, Stay.
She lifted her eyes to his; their gazes locked. He understood.
She heard the sharp intake of his breath.
“I want to hold you, Prudence,” he said, voice rough. “I want to feel you in my arms, your breasts against my chest. I want to kiss you—gently and sweetly—and make sure it’s everything a damn good kiss should be. I want to lose myself in you. But I want you to know pleasure first. I won’t dare any of that unless you ask me to.”
Just listening to him made her heart beat a little bit harder and a little bit faster. She could feel the blood rushing through her. Prudence also wanted those things. What would it be like to be held and not want to run? What was a damn good kiss like, anyway? What pleasure did he speak of?
For every desire was a wave of fear, threatening to drown her. Always she felt as if she was barely managing to keep her head above water.
“I’m not ready,” she whispered.
He settled back in his chair, smiling.
“There’s no rush,” he said. “I have nowhere to be.”
“You have to be in London for the exhibition,” Prudence told him. She hadn’t forgotten his excitement when he’d told her of his plans. She did not want to stand in his way.
Castleton leaned forward. There was a gleam in his eye. She was both curious and nervous to know what made him grin like that.
“Come with me,” Castleton suggested.
“I beg your pardon?” He could not have actually suggested such a thing!
“I can’t leave you alone, Prue,” he said. “You should return to London anyway. It makes sense that we should travel together. I’ll protect you.”
“What if you are the one I’m afraid of?”
“Are you?”
“A little. I know what you just did to protect me. But I’ve spent four years being afraid of men. It doesn’t just end. Not when Dudley found me again. And not when—”
“When you’ve seen what force I’m capable of,” Castleton finished with a deep exhalation. He glanced out the window—still raining!—and pushed his fingers through his hair, frustrated. Then he looked at her, really looked at her.
“I’m sorry,” she said meekly.
“Do not be sorry,” he said fiercely. “Something horrible happened to you, Prudence. You didn’t deserve it. You don’t deserve the repercussions, and you shouldn’t be sorry because of them. It’s not your fault. None of it.” He paused to take a deep breath. She couldn’t breathe. “It’s fine if you’re afraid of me. You should be—not because I’m going to hurt you but because of what you have experienced. But I’m just going to do everything I can to ease your fears and earn your trust.”
This speech, of course, made Prudence weep.
She turned away, hoping he wouldn’t see.
No one had ever said those things to her—and how could they, when no one knew? For years she had kept her shameful secret locked deep inside. In quiet moments, her brain would go over it again and again, finding the mistakes she’d made and trying to uncover what qualities in her made her a target for a violent, controlling beast like Dudley.
Castleton’s words weren’t just words. They were ones she very badly needed to hear.
“Come to London with me. You can’t stay here forever, wherever we are.”
“Westbury,” she mumbled.
“Right. You can’t stay here forever, especially not when Dudley knows where you are.”
Prudence stiffened. Dudley would be back in London eventually, too. But she’d rather face him there with her friends and Castleton by her side. Not here, alone.
“But what will people think? We cannot just travel together. It’s not done.” She might not have been a proper lady anymore, but she’d been trained to think like one.
“We’ll tell everyone we’re married,” Castleton said, grinning. “How would you like to be Lady Castleton?”
For a fleeting second she forgot all of her fears and thought yes. “Prudence, Lady Castleton” had quite a ring to it. She imagined herself walking arm and arm with him through a ballroom, feeling secure and cherished.
Then she returned to the reality of her life. She should return to London, with protection. If Emma could pretend to be engaged for the duration of a house party, then perhaps it wasn’t so crazy for Prudence to sensibly accept the pretense of a husband whilst on the road to London. No one in town would ever have to know.
“I could be Lady Castleton,” she said. “It could be worse. I could be Lady Dudley.”
Though she had uttered the words flippantly, they were accompanied by a piercing truth: while she hated that no one had come to stop Dudley’s first assault on her, it might have been a blessing. Society had such ridiculous rules: any couple caught in a remotely compromising position found themselves swiftly marching down the aisle. The circumstances didn’t matter. A girl without her virginity and a husband was nobody at all. But no on
e had seen them, and thus no one could force them to marry.
She’d been spared being raped by him again and again—as would be his legal right.
Thank God she had been spared such a wretched fate.
“Let’s have supper and then retire early,” Castleton suggested. “We should leave at first light. We might be able to make it to London in a few days, taking a route other than the main road.”
Prudence didn’t sleep much that night. She lay in her bed, highly attuned to the sounds of the inn. The rain drummed on the roof; by now such a familiar sound she had to strain to notice it. There was a faint rumbling from the parlor—it was probably Buckley’s snores. She did not hear heavy boots on the stairs or a knock on her door. There was only the sound of her breath and the beat of her heart.
Something had changed today.
Today, she had confronted her worst nightmares. And she had fought back. Someone had come to her rescue, for once.
Castleton had saved her, in more ways than one.
He’d stopped Dudley from hurting her again. He’d made it abundantly clear to Dudley—and herself—that she wasn’t just a poor defenseless creature for him to prey upon.
She had confessed her deepest, darkest secret, and he’d stayed. She had always feared that if someone knew, they wouldn’t want anything to do with one so shameful. On the other hand, she feared that men would think she would welcome their advances, as if she had lost the right to say no. Castleton had assuaged her fears on both accounts.
For the first time, she didn’t feel so helpless. Castleton had taught her how to save herself, a gift almost as precious as telling her firmly that she wasn’t at fault and she didn’t deserve what happened to her. Knowing how to fight quieted the fear in her heart.
For the first time since the attack, she felt a spark of hope for herself. Prudence vowed to hold onto that spark and nurture it until it became a flame.
She could dwell on the terror—Dudley’s cruel smile when he saw her, or his fierce grip on her arm, or worse. Or she could make a considerable effort to think of the good things. She had touched a man today for the first time.
She stilled at the thought. It was not accompanied by the usual shudder whenever she considered a man’s touch. In fact, she felt a warmth in her belly and something she might have called yearning if she had more courage.
In the morning they would pretend to be man and wife as they traveled back to London. As expected, she felt a certain measure of trepidation at going off with a man whom she’d known only a few days—though she had a fine measure of his character. But there was also a little tremble of excitement. This might be the closest to marriage she would ever come.
The Faux Lady Castleton was about to make her entry upon the world.
Chapter 14
The following day
Two days before Lady Penelope’s Ball
A HIGH PERCH PHAETON painted a glossy forest green with two white horses hitched to it was parked before the inn. Prudence eyed it from the porch, remembering how badly she’d wanted to ride in it—and how she’d walked for miles in the heat and rain rather than accept.
Even this morning, she hesitated when taking Castleton’s hand as she climbed into the carriage. Lady Dare always chided Prudence for refusing a footman’s offered hand and instead grabbing onto whatever was at hand to pull herself up.
But not Castleton.
“It’s all right, Miss Merryweather,” he said. She understood that he meant it was all right for her to climb aboard—she would be safe. And she also understood him to mean that her trepidation was perfectly acceptable. He understood.
For so long, Prudence had feared that someone would learn her shameful secret. It had never occurred to her that someone would learn it and that everything would be fine. She never considered that someone would understand why the littlest things were insurmountable obstacles to her.
“Well it feels good to be out of doors at least,” Castleton remarked as he took a seat beside her.
“It’s a bit wet,” she remarked, and he laughed.
This morning the rain had lightened, which was lucky, since they had to go no matter the weather. Neither of them wished to wait around to see if Dudley would return. Much as she had tried to convince herself of the possibility of staying at the inn indefinitely, it was not truly an option. They would have to venture out on uncertain roads in a conveyance offering little shelter from the elements.
Besides, Castleton was right: she ought to return to her friends and family in London. And he had to make it in time for the Great Exhibition—rain or no rain. Because the carriage was open, with only a slight covering, it was necessary to sit so close to Castleton that she felt his leg pressing against hers.
It wasn’t a bad feeling. It just triggered a bad memory.
For the first time, Prudence made a deliberate effort to separate the two.
“I confess this carriage isn’t ideal for inclement weather. My apologies.” Castleton gave her an apologetic smile. There was nothing wolfish or dangerous about it. It was just . . . nice. Nice was lovely.
“You couldn’t have known it would rain for forty days and nights, I suppose,” Prudence remarked. She took one backward glance at the Coach & Horses Inn, taking in the sign hanging from the porch and the large parlor window from which they had stared out into the rain. The girl she’d been upon her arrival was not the same girl as she was now, upon her departure.
Funny that her life should change so dramatically in this little place.
Then Castleton cracked the whip and they set off. Prudence turned to face forward.
They took the road she had walked just a few days ago. It pained her slightly to see how fast they covered ground that she had taken hours to travel on foot.
“Where were you coming from, anyway?” Prudence asked. It only occurred to her now that she did not know.
“There was a horse race near Kingswood,” he said. Then, with a lowered voice and a grim expression, he added, “I actually saw that Dudley fellow there.”
“You did?”
“He was a bit sore that he bet against a certain filly,” Castleton explained. “And I bet heavily on her.”
“Was she victorious?” Prudence asked. She hoped the filly had won by a dozen lengths.
Castleton turned to face her, a half grin playing on his lips. “What do you think?”
“How did you know she would win?” Prue asked.
“Some people place their bets based on bloodlines, or because their friends own the horse, or because they think the ridiculous name sounds like a winner. But I look in their eyes.” As he said that, Castleton turned to look into Prue’s eyes. She gazed up at his and found them bright, and searching hers.
“What did you see?” Was she asking about the filly or herself?
“She was skittish,” Castleton said. “There was something wild in her eyes. And I saw intelligence there, too. And the way she tossed her head—that girl had spark.”
“I’m afraid I’m being compared to a horse. Or I hope I am,” Prudence muttered.
“A lovely, champion filly. If you are, it’s a compliment,” Castleton said with another friendly smile. Once again, it made her feel warm inside. This time, she allowed herself to feel the heat unfurl from her belly and spread into her limbs. She didn’t fight the smile that tugged at her lips either.
To say that Castleton was unlike any other man she’d met was an understatement. He was changing her—did he know? She didn’t feel whole, but she felt less damaged. In fact, she rather felt as if springtime had arrived and she was thawing out after a long, cold winter. Castleton wasn’t just making her feel nice things; he was quite possibly breathing life back into her.
There was no way she could ever repay him, but she could show her gratitude. Even if it meant admitting she’d been a liar.
“There’s something I should tell you,” Prudence confessed.
“I don’t know if now is a good time,” he said grim
ly. “I’m a bit busy at the moment.”
“Doing what?” Prudence asked, a bit perplexed. He had his hands lightly on the reins while the white horses pulled the carriage along the very straight road.
“Busy driving,” he said. And then, with a grin, he added, “And flirting.”
Prudence laughed and playfully swatted his arm in mock frustration. It happened so fast that she hadn’t realized she had touched him until it was done.
“Your flirting is comparing girls to horses!”
“Winning fillies with spark,” he corrected with a wink. “Now, what were you going to tell me?”
Prudence took a deep breath.
“I can introduce you to the Duke of Ashbrooke. And Baron Radcliffe.”
The horses bolted forward, and she was thrown back against the seat. Castleton must have tightened his grip on the reins. He winced—it could have been the pain from his hands, damaged in yesterday’s fight.
Then he relaxed and exhaled and asked only one question: “How?”
“They are married to my best friends,” Prudence said, further revealing herself. He now had the information to track down Miss Payton, when, as Miss Merryweather, she could have vanished in the London crowds.
“So I suppose you have more than a passing acquaintance with them.”
“Well, we don’t sit around drinking brandy and grumbling about how vexing women are, but yes, we are friendly.”
Castleton threw back his head and burst out laughing. She thought her heart would combust from the sudden, intense pleasure of the sound and having made him laugh.
“I can’t think of how else I might repay you,” she said softly.
“Don’t feel indebted to me, Prudence. I would have done it for anyone.”
“I know,” she said. And she did know that, completely. “That makes me admire you more. It’s why I’m here.”
He glanced down at her. Smiled. “I’m glad you’re with me,” he said softly.
“There is something else you should know,” Prudence added.
“Look at you, with all the secrets,” he remarked with a laugh.
“I could keep this one, I suppose. But when you meet the duke and the baron, the truth will come out.” The Truth. That made it sound so dramatic.
