Though she would always sport a series of scars, forever marked by the devilish grasp of her husband, Lady Prudence cared not. So long as she was free of him, she could breathe. Besides, like her sister, she was determined never to trust the touch of a man again. A lesson Lady Prudence had now learned twice over. She wished that she could still hope, at least for the sake of her brothers, that some men might not be so unkind. They, at least, had never shown sign of brutality or malice. Though, Lady Prudence sighed, they still had many years in which to learn the trait that seemed, in her mind, to lay dormant within all of the men of the world.
When the day arrived that Lady Prudence was called from her isolation and into the meeting chamber of the Mother Abbess, she could not suppress her nerves. Perhaps Lord Fondleton had already found her. Had the abbey been forced to hand her over? Or would she be told that there was no help to be had and forced out onto the street like a thief or vagrant?
Oh, how she wished that she could have carried Posey with her for support. Instead, the pup remained behind in the care of the red haired postulant, whose face broke into a cheerful grin as she coddled the animal and offered it a small treat.
Temperance linked her arm through her sister’s.
“What is to become of me?” Lady Prudence asked.
“Sister Beatrice has been writing letters nonstop for days," Temperance revealed. “I do not know yet what she has planned, but I am certain that she will have done all in her power to protect you.”
“Are you certain?” Lady Prudence asked with a hitch in her voice. “Mightn’t she turn me over to his Lordship and wash her hands of me?”
Temperance shook her head and offered a solemn consolation. “Sister Beatrice is a kindred spirit,” she revealed. “She has been most patient with my…” Temperance shook her head as if to clear it. “Let us just say that she is far more understanding than she lets on.”
“She knows… everything?” Lady Prudence asked with wide eyes.
“I’m afraid so,” Temperance confirmed. “Not at first, I’ll admit, but over the years I have grown to trust her and she has been patient with me in my times of need.”
Lady Prudence nodded but it did not quell the fear in her heart. She felt as if she were approaching the gallows to face her judgement. Her whole future hinged upon this moment. She felt ill.
“A breath, love,” Temperance instructed. It had been many years since she had been the protector of the Baggington daughters. Lady Prudence had missed her sister’s strength and firm resolve. She wished that she could bottle it and carry it with her forever. Prudence had never had the confidence to stand tall, when she had always felt so much less than those around her. Temperance, on the other hand, had an iron firm will that refused to be broken.
As a child she had spent years jealous of every detail of Temperance’s face. Her tall, lean frame had been coveted. It was only when they had reached the years prior to coming of age that Prudence had understood what a burden beauty could be. Their father’s lustful stares and lingering fingers had taken years to drive Temperance away as she had attempted, and failed, to protect her sisters from his grasp. It was only the week before her first season that she had finally taken flight. Neither Prudence, nor the others, could blame her.
It made Lady Prudence sick to think that she had once been jealous of their father’s preference. Of course, she had not yet witnessed his depravity at that time. By the time her eyes had been opened to the truth of it all, it was too late. Temperance had fled and the Viscount Mortel had been enraged as never before. Soon, the prospect of marriage, and freedom, was all that his daughters could think of. His wife, below his interest in her old age, had focused all her energies on the task.
“Enter,” the cool voice of Sister Beatrice called from within.
The sisters stepped through the doorway and allowed the heavy oak panel to swing shut behind them. Seated at her writing table was the Mother Abbess. Her rod straight back and immovable features seemed in contrast to the gentleman who leaned with one arm against the hearth as if bored to have been called here.
“Please, sit,” the nun instructed.
Lady Prudence waited for the light to spark in his eyes as Temperance stepped into view. To her everlasting surprise, it did not. She wondered if he were so used to the chaste nature of the women within the abbey that he did not even truly see them.
Good, she thought. Perhaps she might blend in as intended. Not, she reminded herself, that she had ever stood out to anyone.
The sisters sat but the gentleman remained at the hearth.
“George,” Sister Beatrice began, “how is Marietta?”
Lady Prudence was surprised that she was so familiar as to refer to him by his Christian name.
“As well as can be expected,” he replied with a shrug.
“As I thought from her letters,” the nun replied nodding. “Now, George, I am in need of your services. Or rather, I wish for you to formally request mine. It should appear that you sought our help at the Abbey, if you would.”
The gentleman’s face broke into a grin. He was amused and not at all surprised by her request. Lady Prudence wondered how often he was called upon to perform secretive services for the Abbess.
“What this time, Aunt?” he said with a laugh.
“Marietta is in need of a companion, is she not?” The Reverend Mother continued without pause. “I would like you to take Prudence, here, under your protection for Marietta’s comfort.” The nun gestured at Prudence, whose eyes were still wide at the thought of being introduced with only her Christian name. However, she knew she certainly could not go by Lady Fondleton. An elbow to her ribs from Temperance closed her mouth and had her offering a shy smile.
“Is she a real postulant?” the gentleman asked with disbelief.
“She is something of the sort,” the Reverend Mother replied.
“What am I to do with her?” he asked with a sigh of resignation.
“The same as usual,” the Reverend Mother offered with a shrug. “Ensure that she cannot be found.”
Rather than responding, the man took his hat from the ledge and shoved it down atop his head. Sister Beatrice seemed to take that as a sign of assent for she turned to the sisters and clapped her hands together as if the matter was resolved.
“Prudence, this is my nephew, the Baron Halthaven.” Sister Beatrice made the introductions. “He shall offer you our family home and protections until I can manage a more suitable, and distant, arrangement.” She gave a knowing glance to the sisters, “I assure you that he has impeccable honor and character. No harm shall befall you if it is within his means to prevent. Does this suit you?”
“Oh yes,” Prudence clasped her hands in relief. “Thank you, ever so much Reverend Mother, and you as well, Lord Halthaven.” Two nods returned her kindness.
“Now,” the Mother Abbess continued, “I expect you shall behave as a postulant of our order. Novice Temperance will be sent to check on you when we can spare her duties. Otherwise, it would be best that you kept to yourself and the grounds of Halthaven.”
“Thank you, Reverend Mother” Lady Prudence repeated deeply grateful. She did not care where the baron lived, nor how wealthy or lowly he might be. If only she could find some safe corner of the countryside while she awaited a more permanent chance to escape her husband.
She would provide companionship for his wife, or sister, or daughter, whomever Marietta might be. On second thought, she determined, the baron seemed far too young to have a daughter of such age as to need companionship. He was, at most only a year or two her senior. She decided that Marietta was likely a wife or sister, perhaps ill and withdrawn to the country. Either way, Lady Prudence did not care. Hope bloomed within her for the first time in months. Within the next ten minutes the carriage was called and her bag had been gathered and set upon the rack.
“No!” Lady Prudence cried out, worried that Posey might be hidden in the carpet bag once again.
“Not to wo
rry, Miss,” the brassy haired postulant appeared with the sleeping Posey cradled in her arms. A yellow ribbon had been tied about the pup’s neck and she looked well fed.
“What is this?” Baron Halthaven asked good-naturedly. He seemed immune to his Aunt’s surprises and never rattled by them.
“This is Posey,” Lady Prudence said with a grimace. “Do you mind?”
“Do I have a choice?” he laughed. “I am sure my Aunt would have a word or two for my ear if I abandoned the beast on her step.”
“I suppose you ought to leave us both,” Lady Prudence said before she could stop herself. The weakness of her spirit often burst forth when she was nervous. Why should this gentleman have any reason to help her?
“I should never defy the Reverend Mother,” he replied. “I should have a convent full of nuns calling the plagues down upon me.” He pretended to shiver as if afraid of their divine power.
Lady Prudence felt a short burst of laughter creep forth before she stifled it. With a muffled apology she had bowed her head and did her best to remain silent. Jasper had not permitted any sign of happiness in his house. If she seemed to relax for a moment, he renewed his abuse with increased force as if to prove that he could break her of mirth.
The Baron Halthaven narrowed his eyes, as if he wished to comment upon her reaction but he stayed his tongue.
“My aunt seems to have been remiss in her introductions,” he said instead. “I should be honored to offer you my protection, Miss…?” He left the name hanging as a question.
Prudence knew the Reverend Mother had neglected her surname on purpose. A nun could not lie after all. Still she would never again willingly say she was Lady Fondleton, nor Mrs. Numbton. Still she knew she could not use her maiden name of Baggington either. She was not yet far enough away that word of her whereabouts may not reach Lord Fondleton.
“Riverford.” Prudence lied quickly, thinking of the river she had crossed on her way to the abbey. She was determined to leave all the hurts of the past on the far bank.
After a brief farewell, a lingering embrace with her sister, and a basket of the abbey’s renowned bread to convey to the baron’s cook, they were on their way. The carriage bumped along the road behind the convent and it was not until nearly a quarter hour had passed that Lady Prudence recalled that the rain had damaged the route from the village. With her head craned toward the window, she peered out to see trees, rather than fields passing by.
“What is this lane?” she asked as they headed further into the wood.
“It is a service road that connects with my estate,” he explained. “With the collapse of the bridge it is the only way to bring a carriage to Halthaven Abbey.
“Do the townsfolk know of it?” she asked. She recalled that the barkeep had thought there no access to the Abbey by any route save foot.
“Not well,” he explained. “I employ very few servant and most of whom have been with the family for generations. They are very loyal. Halthaven is a private estate. This road is only used to make deliveries to the Abbey after the harvests or in times of need. There is no access save through my properties.”
“I see,” she mused. For the first time Lady Prudence allowed herself to evaluate the gentleman who sat on the opposite bench. He had chestnut hair with a curl above the ears as if he had forgotten to have it trimmed. His eyes were dark, though in the light of the carriage she could not be certain of their color except that it was in the range of earthen tones. The angles of his face were soft and though he was taller than Prudence she did not find his appearance as imposing or terrifying as many of the gentlemen that she was known to encounter. He was attractive enough, but there was nothing beastly about him.
At least, not in the physical sense she thought to herself. Her husband had taught her well enough that it was a sickness of the mind that made a forceful man, more than the strength of his body. Still, Lady Prudence found herself at ease with the Baron Halthaven’s countenance. He seemed relaxed, nonthreatening and unassuming in his manner.
She allowed a moment to pass into silence, not wishing to reveal too much of herself that might cause suspicion. Posey lay curled in her lap as they bumped along and she scratched the pup behind its ears whenever she stirred.
“You do not have many things,” the baron stated after some time.
“No,” she confirmed. “I had not thought to need them at the abbey.” Nor had she wished for the memory of her previous life. Her fanciful belongings did not suit her, she had known that for years and still given in to her mother’s ploy. Now, she wished to be free of every negative memory that she could recall. She wished to be a different person than before. This was a chance for a fresh beginning. This was the chance to make herself anew, the person that she had always been inside. She would give up all wealth and titles if it only meant that she could escape her past. Prudence would much prefer a common life to life as Lady Fondleton.
“Then,” he wondered, “you had wished to stay?”
She knew that she was willfully misunderstanding his words when she replied. He had thought she wished to be a postulant, though with unfinished business or danger to attend before vows could be made. The reality was that she would never be fit to be a nun, especially not in her married state. Still, it was easier to allow him to believe her devoted to the order than to explain the mess that she had found herself. He was a peer, she recalled. Though the lower form than an earl he still might harbor some loyalty to the others of his class. She could not risk that the baron might hand her over to Lord Fondleton.
“That would have been ideal,” she agreed.
“Might I ask from what is it that you run?”
Lady Prudence bristled at the question. Lord Halthaven seemed to sense her discomfort for he waved away her requirement for a response.
“I only meant that my aunt has sent several postulants to bide their time at my estate.” He explained that some would await the birth of a child to be adopted before their commitment, or seek forgiveness in the church from legal repercussions of a deviant life, or even the avoidance of impending nuptials for an unwanted marriage arrangement. “Never has she spoken of arranging even further sanctuary. I only wondered what the difference might be in your case.”
“I am grateful for your assistance,” Lady Prudence replied. “Please, do not doubt that. However, my path is my own and I have been instructed to keep my silence.”
“Of course,” he replied. “I shall not ask again. I only hope that you understand that Marietta is very dear to me and I should not wish her to be… influenced… in any way unbefitting of a lady.”
Lady Prudence sighed. Of course the baron would be worried for the lady in his care. For all he was aware he was bringing some criminal to be her consort.
“I assure you that I am well aware of my duties,” Lady Prudence placed her hand above her heart to express her pure intention. For the first time in years her ample bosom was covered to the neck in fabric and she did her best to contain her amusement at the fact that her motion had done nothing to draw a gaze of masculine appreciation.
The baron looked only at her face with honest interest. For the first time, Lady Prudence felt as though she were an equal.
“Your wife will not be compromised in any way,” she promised. “I pose no threat of improper behavior. You have my word.”
“Marietta is not my wife,” The Baron Halthaven revealed with an amused quirk of his brow. Lady Prudence found the look appealing but then squashed the thought for although not truly a postulant she had vowed to forsake the male sex for all ages.
“I apologize for the assumption,” she replied.
“It is no matter,” he laughed. “I only thought you should know that she is young and will take much amusement.”
“Is that so?” she asked. “A young sister, perhaps?”
“Neither,” he shook his head and turned to acknowledge that they had reached the edge of the estate. “She is my charge. The orphaned daughter of my cousin.
He died in the war and left her to my care.”
“Might I ask her age?”
“She is two and ten, next summer,” he revealed.
Lady Prudence was glad that his gaze was elsewhere for her cheeks grew hot at the number. Two and ten was the year that Prudence had first heard the door to her chamber creep open in the night. It was the first time she had been looked upon as anything more than a child. It was the year that every dream in her world had been shattered.
She clamped her teeth together. She knew not a thing about this young Miss Marietta but she swore that with every breath within her no man would touch that child’s innocent form. Her gaze settled upon the baron and she wondered if he had the gall to take advantage of his charge. Many a gentleman did. It was well known that a lord might wed his charge if she pleased him. The thought made Lady Prudence sick to her stomach.
No, she reminded herself. Temperance had said that the Abbess knew well of the Baggington secrets. The Reverend Mother was this man’s aunt. She had spoken to his character. She would not place Lady Prudence in the hands of a molester. The Baron Halthaven was safe.
Lady Prudence considered that she need not fear this gentleman in that sense, she need only protect the young lady from any other who might take liberties. Prudence knew more than most how common that type could be.
She remained silent for the remainder of the journey through the wood. If this child had the chance at a decent life, Prudence would do everything within her power to ensure it. As the wheels rolled on she sent a silent prayer up to the heavens.
Keep Jasper away from this place and all those who live here. May he never set foot upon this beautiful land and may he never again harm another living soul.
She dared not wish for his death, for that would be a sin, but a small part of her prayed that he would simply go away. Only then, might the world, and Lady Prudence be free of his control.
The Countess and The Baron: Lady Prudence Baggington (The Nettlefold Chronicles Book 3) Page 4
