Persuading Prudence

by Liz Cole

  Prudence read the letter several times. It explained so much. The constant fighting between her parents, why her father claimed he was never attracted to her mother, and why he had been so cruel the night she died.

  How difficult it must have been for both her parents. Her mother in love with a man who already loved another, knowing the man she loved was unfaithful and most likely would remain that way.

  Prudence hated what her father did to her mother, but what choice did he have but to marry a woman he didn’t truly love? It was an arranged match. Did they even know each other when they took their vows? Prudence knew how aristocratic marriages worked: a spouse was chosen by wealth and or social standing, not by love. Some couples were lucky enough to grow to care for one another, but more often than not, once an heir was produced, the two sought out lovers to fill their more intimate needs. Rarely was there a love match between people who married in society.

  Though Prudence didn’t approve of and in fact resented her father’s behavior, on some level she could understand how love could make one weak.

  But what of Hope’s mother, Lady Stoneville? Did she feel the same way about Prudence’s father or was the woman simply a bored wife looking for a diversion?

  Prudence picked up the first diary and began to read.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I do not know what the future will bring. I have not yet told James that I carry his child. He would surely want us to run away now that Evelyn has passed away, but I could not bear to leave my little boy behind, nor could I deny him his father by taking him with me. Adam loves Rafe and, though my heart belongs to another, I care for Adam too much to do such a heartless thing as denying him the right to watch his son grow into a man.

  Should I tell James? Tell him that our love has created a precious life? I will cherish this child, a part of James that I can keep for myself. But what will he have? A child that he can never claim? A son or daughter that he will watch another man raise? I don’t know if I could bear the thought of what that would do to him.

  Prudence turned the page to the next entry.

  He is dead! James is dead! I did not know he was ill until it was too late. Consumption the doctors say, a simple cold that infected his lungs and never abated. I should have been there, I should have told him about the baby. Maybe knowing would have made him fight harder, to watch it grow…

  Prudence closed the diary, gathered the other along with the letter, and locked them in her writing desk.

  She’d skimmed through the first diary. It was written by Hope’s mother, beginning just before her entry into society and ending shortly after her marriage to Adam Kingsley, the future Duke of Stoneville, the man who believed himself to be Hope’s father.

  According to what was written, Hope’s mother, Melinda, and Prudence’s father, James, had fallen deeply in love almost immediately. James had attempted to court Melinda, but her parents had bigger game in their sights. The future Duke of Stoneville had expressed an interest in Melinda, and therefore a mere baron would never do for their daughter.

  Melinda had no choice in the matter. Before she knew what was happening, marriage documents had been signed by her parents, a settlement reached and an announcement published. She couldn’t back out, though she entertained the notion of running away and eloping with James. But in the end, she had gone through with the marriage.

  Hope’s mother had tried to make the best of things. She tried to love the duke, but silently yearned for the man who was forever out of her reach. And, though she knew she had no right, she was heartbroken when he wed another woman.

  From what Prudence could put together from the two diaries—written several years apart—it appeared that the affair between Hope’s mother and Prudence’s father started in London, shortly after Prudence was born, and lasted until her father died a little over six years later.

  Prudence didn’t know how to feel. They were victims of circumstance. But their love left disappointment and death in their wake. Prudence’s mother couldn’t live with her pain and died alone in the icy cold of that long ago winter’s night.

  Prudence recalled the nights when her mother would read her stories and played tea party with her. How would it have been if things had been different?

  There was no sense in pondering ‘what if’s’, the past could not be changed, but the future was still unwritten.

  For several days, Prudence thought hard about the situation. She had a sister. A sister who wanted to know her. And despite the fact that Prudence’s father had led Hope’s mother to betray the duke, the man Hope loved and believed was her father, Hope wanted a relationship with her.

  Had Prudence been in the same position, she didn’t know if she would have had the strength to seek out Hope. Would she be betraying her mother’s memory if she became close with her sister? Her mother and father were gone, dead for the last twenty years, but Prudence was alive and alone. Oh, Victoria and the rest of her family had welcomed her into their lives as one of them, but she hadn’t been one of them really. Part of her, she acknowledged, had always felt like an outsider with her nose pressed against the glass, watching, but never truly belonging. Prudence was surprised she hadn’t realized it until now.

  She was glad Hope had sought her out. It was time to put the past behind her where it belonged. She had a younger sister who wanted to be part of her life; did the rest truly matter? They would never be able to openly claim their true relationship; Hope had wanted to spare her father the scandal and pain of revealing the truth. But they could be close friends, something Prudence could not deny she wanted desperately.

  ***

  “Lady Hope Kingsley to see you my Lady,” Arbuckle announced as Prudence sat in the large sitting room of Ravensbrook’s London home.

  “Please see her in.” Prudence had made her decision in the early morning hours and sent a note after breakfast requesting Hope to call on her today.

  She stood, clasping her shaking hands in front of her as Arbuckle showed her sister in. “Lady Hope, I am glad that you were able to make it on such short notice,” she said with a tentative smile.

  “Thank you for inviting me,” the young woman replied formally, studying Prudence’s countenance as if trying to read what Prudence was thinking. She looked wary, but held herself proud and erect. Prudence envied her spirit.

  “I thought we might take a turn about the gardens. It is such a lovely day. We should take advantage of it while the weather holds.” It would also afford them some needed privacy.

  “Thank you. A walk in your gardens would be nice,” Hope agreed, straightening her posture and giving Prudence a bright smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  Prudence led the way, opening the French doors of the other side of the room, and the two stepped out onto the terrace, which ran the length of the house. They made their way in silence until they were well out of range of anyone who might overhear their conversation.

  “I was pleased to receive your note this morning. I wasn’t sure if you would feel comfortable with seeing me,” Hope said, breaking the silence.

  Prudence studied the young woman’s profile. If she was nervous, she didn’t show it. Her face was the picture of calm, her stride relaxed and steady.

  Prudence stopped under a large oak tree and turned to her sister. “To be honest, Hope, I didn’t know what I would feel seeing you again.”

  Hope turned to face her; her chin lifted a notch, but she remained composed. “I am glad you decided to contact me.”

  “Please have a seat,” Prudence offered, gesturing to a bench situated a few steps away. Hope took a seat and Prudence settled herself next to her. “I am sorry that I have not contacted you sooner,” Prudence began, studying her hands clasped primly in her lap.

  “Oh, I understand,” Hope was quick to assure her. “My news must have come as quite a shock.”

  “That it was,” Prudence agreed. “I read over the things you gave me.”

  Hope turned sharply to face
her. “And? What are your feelings?”

  Prudence sighed, giving a weary shake of her head. “I think the whole thing very sad.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes.” Prudence lifted her head and looked into the other woman’s eyes, eyes so much like her own. “Both of our parents suffered dreadfully as a result of something none of them could seem to control.”

  Hope’s gaze remained on Prudence’s face. “Then you do not hate me for what my mother did? Of what it did to your family? Your mother?”

  Prudence shrugged. “I would like to think that I possess more character than those who would condemn an innocent child for their parents’ actions.”

  “So does this mean that you would like to try to be…to have some sort of friendship?” Hope asked hesitantly.

  “It means,” Prudence replied, her eyes never leaving Hope’s, “that I would like to get to know my sister. And, if a close bond should be what becomes of that, I would welcome it.”

  Hope’s stiff posture relaxed, her relief palatable. “Oh, Pru! I prayed you would feel that way, but I never dared hope.” She flung her arms around Prudence, giving her a tight hug. Startled, Prudence hesitated a moment before returning her sister’s enthusiastic embrace.

  Chapter Twenty

  “That dress couldn’t be more perfect, Pru. Lord Ravensbrook will surely be overcome the moment he sees you in it,” Hope said. She sat sketching in Prudence’s bedroom while the seamstress made a few final adjustments to Prudence’s wedding dress.

  The gown was made of a lightweight ivory silk with embroidered silver flowers accented by tiny seed pearls. It had large gigot sleeves and fit her tightly around the bust and waist, the full skirt billowing about her as it fell to the floor. It wasn’t adorned with frilly lace and bows, but was simple in design, something Prudence had insisted upon. The overall effect was one of quiet elegance. Prudence felt like a princess as she gazed at herself in the mirror.

  “Thank you, Hope. I must say that I am quite pleased with the result.”

  “You should be,” her sister remarked as she leaned in to her sketchpad, a frown drawing at her brow as she concentrated on her picture. “If there is ever a day you should feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, it should be on your wedding day.”

  Prudence hoped Kolton liked her choice of gown as well. She had put much thought into exactly what she wanted. Normally she would have tried to hide her figure, she still felt somewhat on display in her new style of dress, but she knew Kolton admired her figure and this gown showed off her curves without being immodest.

  Harriet helped her out of her dress and into a light robe.

  “There, finished.” Hope turned the pad to face her and Prudence gasped. “Hope, it is…it’s wonderful! A master artist could not have done better.”

  Hope had drawn a profile portrait of Prudence in her wedding gown. She had captured every detail of the dress exactly and had even matched the color almost to perfection with her pastels, and added the finely woven lace veil with its matching embroidery and pearls Prudence planned to wear. But the most striking thing about the sketch was the detail she had put into Prudence’s face. Her expression held a dreamy quality as she stared off into the distance, her eyes filled with love, her lips parted as if awaiting a kiss.

  “I am glad you like it.”

  “Oh, I do, Hope, it is magnificent. May I keep it? I would love to have it framed.”

  “Perhaps later, when I have finished it. I want to add a little more before I give it to you.” Hope closed her sketchpad and set it aside. “Will you be attending the Martin’s ball this evening?”

  “Yes. Amanda and Victoria insist that I become more the social butterfly,” Prudence replied with a resigned roll of her eyes. “Please tell me you will be there as well; it would be comforting to know I have one good friend there.”

  “I’ll be there,” Hope assured her. “Father insists that I get to know more people,” she pulled a face. “Not that many of them are worth knowing, nasty bunch they can be, the women anyway. Pompous, jealous, cats the lot of them.”

  “In general, I would have to agree,” Prudence acknowledged, “but there are a few genuinely nice people as well. I have learned to smile, nod, and retreat from the worst of them. No sense getting my feathers ruffled by the less than pleasant amongst them.”

  “Smiling and nodding in the face of their snobbishness is not something I find easy to do, dear friend. What I would truly like to do is box their ears!”

  ***

  “Victor,” Prudence said turning to her cousin with a beseeching smile as they stood watching the dancers at Lady Martin’s ball. “Why not ask Hope to dance? Mr. Dowling has been attached to her all evening like an annoying burr. I am sure she would welcome a gallant rescue.”

  “I am quite sure the girl can rescue herself,” he replied with a derisive snort. “She has certainly has no problem speaking her mind when she sets her mind to it.”

  What was that all about? Prudence wondered.

  “Well then, perhaps I could ask Kolton to rescue her. He could certainly put Mr. Dowling off his game.”

  “No, no,” Victor rushed to reassure her. “Never let it be said that I refused to act the white knight to a damsel in distress. Do find your betrothed and dance with him. I’m sure he is anxious to spend some time with you.”

  Victor strode off toward Hope and Mr. Dowling, leaving Prudence to wonder what had gotten into her normally flirtatious cousin.

  “Ah, there you are, my dear,” Kolton said offering her a glass of punch.

  “How did you know I was in need of a cool drink?”

  “I have made it my mission in life to anticipate your every desire and do all in my power to assure you have all that you may ever need.” He leaned in closer so his words may not be overheard. “Is there anything else you desire? I am more than happy to take requests.”

  Prudence took a sip of punch. She really had to speak to him about his nightly visits. Kolton was leaving her bed later and later. What if one of the staff saw him? They had already had one close call when her maid entered the room. Luckily, Kolton was able to grab his robe from the floor and slip under the bed before Harriet noticed him. He’d laughed when her maid had left the room, but Prudence had been mortified.

  “Kolton, we must talk about your visits,” she whispered, not wanting to be overheard.

  Kolton leaned back, a rakish smile spreading across his face. “Do you now? And what would you like to speak of?” he asked, his voice deep, soft, and suggestive.

  “We cannot talk here,” she said. “There are too many ears about.”

  Kolton held out his arm. “A simple matter to remedy.”

  Prudence took his arm and walked with him as he nonchalantly exited the ballroom and led her into the gardens. The evening was cool, but not so much that she required a wrap. They made their way to a spot within sight of the terrace, but far enough away to afford them a bit of privacy.

  Prudence noticed a bench conveniently located nearby and seated herself. Kolton lowered himself beside her and took her hand. “Now, my love, what part of our delightful nights together would you like to discuss?”

  The sun had set hours ago, but the moon was bright enough that she could make out the smile on his face. He was in for a large disappointment, she feared.

  “Actually,” she began, clearing her throat, “I don’t want to discuss what happens as much as how often it happens.”

  Kolton raised a questioning brow. “Why do I get the distinct impression that I will not care for the topic of what I had anticipated to be titillating conversation?”

  Prudence extracted her hand from his and busied herself rearranging her skirts. “I believe it is because you know better than to think I would discuss such things,” she replied primly.

  Kolton chuckled. “I do hope to change that particularly prudish aspect of your personality. Partaking of verbal intercourse with you is a most arousing notion.”

  T
he idea of bringing herself to speak with him concerning such a highly personal subject made her cheeks burn. Kolton had no difficulty with describing, in minute detail, how he wanted to make love to her, how her body inflamed him, and how to satisfy him. While making love to her with words as well as his body was extremely arousing, Prudence felt speaking of such things herself far too wicked.

  She folded her hands in her lap and straightened her spine with resolve. “Be that as it may, you cannot continue to visit me every night. The risk is far too great that we will be discovered,” she stated firmly.

  “What are you suggesting? Please don’t say you want me to stay away from you for the next three weeks. I would go mad! I don’t believe I could last that long without breaking down your door and ravishing you in your bed.”

  The look on his face resembled a child who’d had his favorite treat snatched away before he’d had the chance to savor it. The thought made Prudence want to laugh out loud. She didn’t, however, and marshaled her resistance to her betrothed’s persuasive charm.

  “Do stop being overly dramatic, Kolton.”

  “I am deadly serious, my love. If you were an opiate, I could not crave you more.” He lifted his hand and brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Do you not want to spend time in my arms? Has our lovemaking become blasé?”

  Prudence took his hand between hers. “You know you are talking nonsense. I do not want to spend a night away from you. I am just concerned that we may be found out. Perhaps we could limit your visits for now; say one or two nights?”

  “You are going to be the death of me, woman!” he replied with a tortured groan. “But you do have a point. The other morning was much too close a call.” He gave a regretful sigh. “I suppose I could survive on two nights – just barely, mind you.”