“It belongs to my family, to my Aunt Christina, I believe, since my grandmother is gone. My grandmother is wearing it in a portrait at my father’s house. It’s in his study.”
Bennet’s gut clenched. He couldn’t give it up. How had Prudence’s mother gotten it?
Lucien frowned. “It’s not fair of me to ask you to just give it to me, especially with your current hardship.” He focused on Bennet, his eyes glinting with determination. “I propose you give me the ring, and I’ll invest a good sum on a solid, secure investment—guaranteed to pay good money and sooner rather than later. That would be more beneficial to you than giving you money outright, but I could do that too if you prefer. Would you agree to either of those scenarios?”
Fuck. Bennet didn’t want to give up the ring at all. But how could he refuse? He’d dragged Lucien in here out of desperation and to decline such an offer would raise questions, not the least of which would be whether Bennet was sane.
He definitely didn’t want to answer that.
He wanted to say that he couldn’t agree, that he’d fibbed and the ring actually belonged to someone else for whom he was holding it for safekeeping. But that would only arouse more questions—and Bennet already had plenty of those. He wanted to ask Prudence how her mother had gotten the ring. Perhaps she didn’t know.
“You’re quite hesitant,” Lucien noted. “And you haven’t yet sold that ring despite your need. Does it mean something to you?”
Bennet recalled Lucien’s speech about friendship, how honesty was necessary. And here Bennet was lying to him repeatedly. But he had no choice. He couldn’t tell him where he’d really gotten the ring or why he didn’t want to part with it. Yet again, he was hiding things, as he’d always done. With everyone, including Prudence, the person who’d seen him at his most vulnerable. “I rarely gamble. In fact, I haven’t since I won this ring. It seemed a token of good fortune, so I haven’t wanted to give it up.” The story fell from his lips with ease, but then he’d spent a lifetime crafting tales to appease various members of his family so that it was now second nature. The truth was that Bennet didn’t gamble at all. Not after seeing what it had done to his father.
“Let me think on it,” Bennet continued. Prudence had told him to sell it. Still, he’d speak to her first, particularly since learning where this ring really came from. He narrowed one eye at Lucien. “You’re certain this is your family’s ring?”
“Completely. It’s a very old coat of arms from my grandmother’s family, going back many generations. I remember it quite distinctly.”
So curious. Bennet was eager to speak to Prudence about it.
“In the meantime, I’ll look for an appropriate investment scheme,” Lucien said. “I hope you won’t be foolish. Furthermore, that ring belongs with my family. I’m not going to let it go without a fight.” His tone didn’t carry a threat or any malice at all, just a statement of fact.
Bennet nodded, feeling unsettled about having to lie while also knowing it was necessary. “I understand, and I respect that. I’ll let you know soon.”
He turned and left the room, his mind churning with unanswered questions and a swirl of unease in his chest. Did Prudence know the truth about this ring?
He wasn’t sure what he hoped to find out.
“This is lovely, isn’t it?” Cassandra asked with a bright smile as she and Prudence strolled along Bond Street. “Just like before I wed Ruark and before you were companion to Kat.”
“When I was companion to you,” Prudence said.
“I’m so glad we’re still in the same household.”
Prudence was too. After being uncertain of things while she’d been with Bennet, she was incredibly relieved not only to have a position, but to have one with people she liked and cared about. And who liked and cared about her.
For now. If her time at Riverview had taught her anything, it was that everything truly was temporary. Only one thing was certain: change.
Perhaps that clear realization was why she felt different since returning to London. Or it could be something else entirely. Or someone else.
Bennet.
She shoved him away from her thoughts. There was no point in thinking of him.
Forward, not back.
“Let’s go in here,” Cassandra said, steering Prudence into a milliner’s shop. “Those gloves in the window are the perfect shade of ivory.” There was no one in London more adept at shopping than Cassandra. Except, perhaps, Evie Renshaw. Prudence had been shopping with her and Ada on a few occasions, and Evie’s eye for fashion was nearly unparalleled.
As soon as they stepped into the shop, Cassandra stopped. Prudence nearly walked into her back.
“Good afternoon, Aunt Christina,” Cassandra said with a slight edge to her tone.
So slight that probably only Prudence caught it. The Countess of Peterborough, was Cassandra’s father’s sister, and she’d been Cassandra’s sponsor—though a very poor one. While she’d accompanied Cassandra to Society events, she’d often abandoned her upon arrival. On at least one occasion, she hadn’t even come to the duke’s house in Grosvenor Square to escort Cassandra. That had annoyed the duke no end.
Nevertheless, he’d allowed his younger sister to play sponsor instead of the more earnest and far more committed Lady Aldington, Cassandra’s sister-in-law, who’d briefly held the position before the duke had deemed her too timid.
He failed to see that timid was preferable to absent. Or uncaring.
“Cassandra, my dearest!” Lady Peterborough bussed her niece’s cheek. They looked a bit alike, with dark hair, though Lady Peterborough’s was streaked with hints of gray. Their eyes were quite similar, tawny and warm. “How lovely you look. Marriage certainly agrees with you.”
“Thank you, Aunt. I’m fortunate to have Prudence with me today. I don’t know if you heard, but she is now companion to Ruark’s sister, Miss Shaughnessy.”
Lady Peterborough’s gaze passed briefly over Prudence. “I hadn’t heard, but how nice for all of you. I know how hard it can be to find good help.”
Prudence rolled her eyes internally. She’d always found Lady Peterborough to be self-involved, particularly when it came to her niece. One would expect her to make more of an effort since Cassandra’s mother had died when she was young. Prudence knew how deeply the loss had affected Cassandra. Missing their mothers was something they’d shared.
“What are you shopping for today?” Lady Peterborough asked.
Cassandra glanced toward the front of the shop. “I wanted to look at the gloves in the window.”
“The ivory pair?” At Cassandra’s nod, the countess smiled in approval. “They are quite cunning. Come, let’s have a look, and if you like them, I’ll purchase them for you.”
That was one thing Lady Peterborough did—she bought things for Cassandra and took her on thrilling shopping excursions to Cheapside. Prudence supposed that was something. She tried to imagine doing that with her mother, but of course, they’d never had money for that. They’d been comfortable enough when her father was alive, but after he’d died, they’d both had to work at the school. There wasn’t much left for extravagance. And a fashionable pair of gloves from Bond Street was beyond extravagant for someone like Prudence.