“He has to have been to have created a child as smart and wonderful as you.”
Except he hadn’t created her, not in the most basic sense of the word. She inhaled sharply and coughed to cover it up in case Bennet deduced something. “I should get back. And we ought not meet like this anymore.”
“I know.” He sounded resigned. “But I had to see you. It’s about the ring you gave me.”
“You sold it.” She’d told him to, and yet remorse burrowed inside her.
“Not yet, but I’ve had an offer. It’s the damnedest thing.” He shook his head as he removed his left glove. “I must confess that I’ve been wearing it since you gave it to me.”
The gold glinted in the afternoon brightness. The ring looked quite natural and attractive on his hand. Seeing it there made her inordinately pleased.
“It looks nice,” was all she could manage to say. She was still waiting for him to explain the damnedest thing.
Her gaze flicked to his, and she saw the barest hesitation. His demeanor sent a jolt of anxiety through her. “Lucien took note of it the other night. He asked how I came to have it.”
Her heart felt as though it might jump from her chest. “What did you tell him?”
“That I won it in a card game. He’s quite perplexed, however, because he insists it belongs to his family, that the crest is of his grandmother’s family.” He glanced down at the ring on his finger. “How would your mother have gotten it?”
Everything around Prudence seemed to stop. There was no sound, no scent of horses, nothing but a sensation of falling. Then sound returned, a loud whooshing noise in her ears. Was she actually falling?
“Pru?” Bennet touched her arm. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she croaked, coughing and taking a breath. “I’m just surprised to hear this.”
If the ring belonged to Lucien’s family, how on earth had it come into Prudence’s mother’s possession? No, how had it come into the possession of the woman who’d given birth to Prudence. Unless that woman was from Lucien’s grandmother’s family. Which wasn’t far-fetched. Prudence’s real father was a viscount, and the ring had seemed to be from a family of means. Everything pointed to Prudence’s real mother being from Lucien’s grandmother’s family.
That would mean that Lucien—and Cassandra—were Prudence’s family.
Prudence felt like she could fall. Her legs wobbled beneath her.
Pull yourself together before Bennet puzzles this out!
“I don’t know how my mother got it,” she lied.
“And you can’t ask her, of course.” Bennet stroked her arm, his gaze full of concern. “I wonder if she knew the truth about it.”
Prudence chose not to speculate with him. The less she said, the better. “Thank you for not telling him I gave it to you.”
“I couldn’t without revealing how or why. I wouldn’t have, anyway.”
“Why?”
His brow creased slightly. “I suppose I feel protective of you, whether that’s reasonable or not.”
Prudence didn’t care if it was reasonable. “I appreciate it. And you.” She kissed his cheek but backed away quickly since she was still quivering from shock.
“There’s more, I’m afraid,” Bennet said darkly. “Lucien wants the ring. He thinks it must belong to his Aunt Christina since their grandmother is gone.”
Lady Peterborough. Could she be Prudence’s mother? It became difficult for her to breathe. She felt as if she’d run long distance at a very fast speed.
“He’s offered me an arrangement.” Bennet’s words drew her back from a swirling chaos.
“What sort of arrangement?” Prudence asked quietly.
“He’ll put up the money for an investment scheme on my behalf in return for the ring.” He stared at her a moment before continuing. “I told him I’d think about it.”
The chaos returned, pulling at her feet. Bennet needed this. What’s more, she’d given him the ring to sell for his benefit. Now he had the chance to do exactly that. Why did Prudence need it? Hadn’t she already decided to leave the mystery of her mother in the past?
Only, the mystery was nearly solved. Prudence wasn’t sure she could turn away from learning the truth at last.
His features softened. “I can see it will pain you for me to give it to him. I can’t do that.” He worked the ring from his finger and pressed it into her gloved hand.
She wanted to protest, to insist that he sell it to Lucien. Then the secrets of her past could finally be laid to rest. But she couldn’t do it. In the end, she couldn’t ignore her feelings about this, her need to know and complete the puzzle of her life.
She felt the weight of the ring in her palm. “What will you tell him?”
“Don’t worry about that. Take it, please.” He wrapped her fingers around the ring, then stroked his bare fingers along her jaw. “You don’t have to answer me, but are you somehow related to Lucien’s family?”
She responded with the truth, her voice ragged and low. “I don’t know. I suppose it’s possible.” And then the truth spilled from her as the cacophony of emotions became too much for her to contain. “My parents were not really my parents. I was adopted by them.” She looked away from him. “The circumstances of my birth are indecent. I am indecent.”
He grabbed her shoulders and gently squeezed. “Don’t ever say that. You can’t choose how you are born. You can only choose how you act. I am the indecent one here, never you.”
How she adored him in that moment. But it mattered. They came from different worlds, and while blood was important to his class, the fact that her blood came from aristocrats mattered not. The stain of her birth ensured she could never be equal to him. She wasn’t going to debate him about that, however. “You’re not angry with me for not telling you before?”
“Of course not. That’s an awfully big secret to share.” One side of his mouth ticked up. “Knowing you, I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m the first person you told.”
“The second. Sorry.” Why she felt she had to apologize for that, she wasn’t sure. “My friend Ada—she knows. As you said, it’s a very big secret. Too hard to share, but also difficult to keep entirely to yourself.
“I confess I told her that you kidnapped me—but nothing else. I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to, but she’s a dear friend, and she knows me well enough to realize I would never elope with someone, let alone a man she didn’t even know existed.”
“Ah. Sometimes logic prevents us from dishonesty, which is probably not a bad thing.” His shoulders twitched, and she sensed he was upset, which he had every right to be since she’d broken his trust.
“I really am sorry.” She nearly rolled her eyes. “Now it’s my turn to excessively apologize.”
“Don’t. You need never apologize for honesty.” He gazed at her in open admiration, clearly not upset with her. “You are an exceptionally brave and wonderful woman.” He kissed her swiftly, his lips brushing over hers and sparking a desire deep inside her that unfurled as a flower seeking the sun. “I’d like to hold you, but I worry we’ve already been bold enough.” He let her go and took a small step back. “What will you do?”