“And why should Agatha and Frances suffer while the two of you make no economies? I will no more turn out Aunt Agatha from the only home she’s known these past thirty years than I will Cousin Frances or either of you, despite the fact that I should in order to settle my father’s debts and restore the estate to profitability.”
“My father promised I would always be taken care of,” Aunt Judith said indignantly.
“As his heir’s heir, I will take care of you,” Bennet snapped. “But your household in Bath is bloody expensive.”
Aunt Judith blanched. “Careful, Bennet,” she whispered. “You must control yourself or you’ll end up like him.”
As if he needed her to remind him. Bennet let go of his anger. “My apologies.”
Aunt Judith’s features softened, and her gaze turned sympathetic. “I understand you don’t wish to wed—and you know I support that. That’s why I thought you would be open to sending Agatha somewhere less costly.”
“I appreciate your concern. Truly. Believe me, I’ve been trying to find another way. I’ve sold nearly everything of value at Aberforth Place. Poor Great-Aunt Flora is running out of places to press her flowers.”
This prompted smiles from everyone, and Bennet relaxed. They might be a mess of a family, but they were still a family. And he would go to any lengths to keep them all safe and happy, including kidnap an heiress. Put like that, there was no reason he shouldn’t marry Mrs. Merryfield.
He knew what he had to do. “Actually, there is a woman who might suit our needs,” he said. “She’s aware of my…situation and is content to exchange money for becoming a viscountess. Furthermore, she has children already, so I won’t feel bad not giving her any.”
“That’s quite a sacrifice,” Aunt Judith said quietly.
He exhaled as resignation swept over him, bringing a melancholy he didn’t want. “It’s the only way.”
Great-Aunt Esther gave him an encouraging smile. “As I always say, you’re such a good boy.”
Chapter 15
Bennet’s tread was heavy as he made his way back home following his call on Mrs. Merryfield. She’d been delighted to see him—if “delighted” could describe her closemouthed smile and invitation to have tea. He’d wanted to decline, but supposed it made sense to spend time with the woman who would be his wife.
In a month.
She’d been eager to choose a date, and the banns would be read this coming Sunday. Bennet should feel happy, or at least relieved. Instead, he felt hollow.
Just as he reached his house, he heard his name. Lucien was bearing down on him from the opposite direction.
“Glastonbury, I’m glad I caught you.” Lucien looked rather intense, his brow furrowed and his eyes especially dark.
Bennet wasn’t in the mood to discuss the ring. “Afternoon, Lucien. I’m afraid I’m just on my way back from an errand, and I’ve relatives visiting.”
“Indeed? How pleasant. I just need a few minutes. Might we go inside?” He inclined his head toward Bennet’s house.
Resigned, Bennet nodded. He led Lucien inside directly to his small study at the rear of the house. “You’ve come about the ring, I take it?” Bennet gestured for Lucien to sit, then removed his hat and gloves before taking his favorite chair near the hearth.
Lucien perched on the edge of a chair. “Somewhat, yes. My aunt came to see me and asked me to forget about the ring. She said it’s with the person it belongs to—her daughter.”
Bennet worked to cover his surprise. It wasn’t a complete shock to learn that Lady Peterborough was Prudence’s mother, but he wished he’d heard it from Prudence. He longed to know how she’d taken the news, whether she and Lady Peterborough had formed some sort of bond.
Lucien shook his head. “I can’t believe my aunt has an illegitimate daughter, that I have a cousin I didn’t know about.”
Bennet bristled at the word “illegitimate,” but said nothing on that front. “I’m glad that’s settled, then.” He desperately wanted to speak with Prudence, but since she hadn’t met him in the park and hadn’t sent word, he had to assume their association was finally finished. As it should be. There was no reason for them to continue as they’d been doing, particularly since he was now betrothed. He suddenly felt as though he’d swallowed a cup of broken glass.
“My aunt had another reason for coming to see me,” Lucien continued. “She asked me to solicit a dowry for her daughter from the woman’s half brother, the Viscount Warfield. Aunt Christina insists he’ll come up with the funds. I’m not so certain, and I say that as one of Warfield’s few remaining friends.” Frowning, he added, “Indeed, I may be the only one.”
Lady Peterborough was trying to get a dowry for Prudence? Why? Bennet hated that his pulse sped, and a thrill shot through him. With a dowry, Prudence would be marriageable. He detested that he had to think of her in terms of financial benefit. She was so much more. His thoughts were still filled with her even as he plotted a future without her. He longed for the time they’d spent at Riverview so he could drink tea and wine with her, read to her, share a bed with her. “How wonderful that your aunt wants to support her daughter in such a way.” He sounded stiff and bound, which he was—tied to his duties instead of free to do as he wished.
Lucien narrowed his eyes at Bennet. “Aunt Christina also said the dowry was so her daughter could marry the man she gave the ring to—that would be you.”
Bloody fucking hell.
“I didn’t realize you were getting married,” Lucien went on. “The last I heard, you were desperately seeking an heiress. This is your solution? To wed my illegitimate cousin?”
Bennet wanted to yell at him to stop calling Prudence that word. And he wasn’t aware of any of these plans! Furthermore, he’d just agreed to marry someone else! Wait, did that mean he’d marry Prudence if she got this dowry from Warfield? While it made her marriageable, it didn’t change the fact that he didn’t want to marry anyone, especially someone he cared about as much as Prudence. He couldn’t ask her to suffer him if he fell under the family illness.
Remember, she doesn’t want any children. She might be perfect…
Lucien pinned him with an intense stare, startling Bennet from his rambling thoughts. “My aunt wouldn’t tell me her daughter’s name. I want you to tell me.”
Bennet shook his head. “That isn’t my secret to share.”
“I’ll find out when you marry her,” Lucien said with considerable exasperation.
“Then that’s when you’ll find out.” Bennet’s head was swimming. He had no idea what was going on. He was betrothed, but not to Prudence.
“Is this a happy union?” Lucien asked.
Bennet couldn’t answer that since this was the first he was hearing of it. “I’m sure it will be,” he said blandly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must be getting on.”
“Very well.” Lucien exhaled as he stood. “Wish me luck with Warfield. I’m going to visit him now. He’s a difficult sort.”