Cassandra put her hand to her forehead. “My God, this is all my fault.”
A laugh leapt from Prudence. “Hardly. This was entirely Bennet’s fault, and he takes complete responsibility.”
“Bennet?” Cassandra asked, her brows arching.
“We spent six days together near Hersham,” Prudence explained. “We were stranded because his coach required repair. Then the weather was terrible, and the roads were impassable. The storm was so bad that a tree fell on his coach, destroying it.”
Cassandra gaped once more, her expression growing more incredulous with each revelation. Then she giggled, putting her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry. I have to ask, was the coach repaired before it was ruined?”
Prudence’s lips twitched. “I’m afraid so. He says he has the worst luck, and it’s true.”
Sobering, Cassandra, put her hand on her lap. “What did he do when he realized his men had taken the wrong woman?”
“He was quite disappointed,” Prudence said wryly. “And most apologetic. You see, they’d bound me and put a gag in my mouth as well as a bag over my head.”
Cassandra’s gasp filled the room. “No! I can’t believe you endured that and said nothing.”
“When you say it like that, it sounds as though I should have said something, but I wasn’t hurt. I was far more concerned about what my absence would mean for my reputation and my future chances for employment.”
“You should know that I would always protect you—no matter what. We are friends, Pru.”
They were more than that, but Prudence wasn’t at that part yet. “I appreciate that.”
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth when you got back?”
“I didn’t want anyone to know what Bennet had done. He was incredibly remorseful—almost irritatingly so, truth be told—and I wanted to see if I could return to my life without having to say what happened—for both our sakes.”
“There is something you aren’t saying,” Cassandra said slyly, looking at her intently. “You keep calling Glastonbury, Bennet. He kidnapped you, and you went to great effort to protect him from all manner of trouble. If people knew what he’d done…” Her eyes widened once more. “Ruark can never know.”
“Thank you for saying so,” Prudence said. “I was hoping you would agree to that. I wanted to tell you the truth, but this isn’t something anyone else needs to know.”
“Agreed.” Cassandra gave her head a shake. “Ruark might try to kill him. Or at least trounce him in a boxing match again. Yes, we’ll keep this between us.”
“Thank you. I’d also ask you not to let Bennet know that you’re aware of what transpired. Trust me when I say you do not want to be on the receiving end of his regret.” She rolled her eyes, and Cassandra laughed.
“You sound as if you know each other rather well.”
“We do, I think.” Prudence recognized there was much she didn’t know about the man she was to marry. “In some ways more than others,” she added with a meaningful look.
Cassandra stared at her a moment, then her nostrils flared, and she gave a single nod. “Ah. I understand.” Once again, her features registered surprise. “Oh! You’re marrying him?”
“I am.”
“But… How?” Cassandra sputtered. “I mean, I thought he was desperate to wed an heiress.”
“He was. He is. His financial troubles have not magically improved. In fact, when we parted before I returned to London, I gave him the only thing I had of value so he could sell it.”
“What was that?”
“A ring my mother had given me. However, he couldn’t bring himself to sell it, apparently, and wore it instead.” She took a deep breath before relating the next part—perhaps the most important part of this confession. “Lucien recognized the crest on it and said it belonged to your family.”
Cassandra’s face scrunched briefly. “I remember my grandmother telling me about that ring. She was sorry there was no such tradition for me and was disappointed that my aunt hadn’t birthed any girls to give it to.” She focused on Prudence, drawing in a sharp breath. “Your mother gave it to you?”
“It was given to her by the woman who birthed me, and she passed it on to me before she died. Lady Peterborough is my true mother, and the former Viscount Warfield was my father.”
Cassandra gaped at her. Then she suddenly smiled. “This means we’re cousins.”
“It does.” Prudence smiled too.
This time when Cassandra lunged toward her, Prudence also rose from her chair. They embraced tightly, and Prudence felt wetness on her cheeks. To have a family was a gift she hadn’t dared to imagine.
After several moments, they broke apart, but Prudence joined Cassandra on the settee so they could sit close.
“This is the very best news,” Cassandra said, glowing with joy and…pride? “I’ve always wanted a sister, and I shall count a cousin as the same thing.”
“I’ve always wanted a sibling too. My adoptive parents weren’t able to have children—my mother didn’t tell me that until she was dying. They adopted me, and she said it was the happiest day of their lives.”
“How wonderful. I wish I’d known her,” Cassandra said warmly. “Does Aunt Christina know who you are? She certainly never gave the indication that she did.”
“She did not. Though, I had to go see her once Lucien recognized the crest. She admitted she’d never looked at me closely and that if she had, she would have realized how much I looked like the former Viscount Warfield.”
Cassandra snorted. “Typical Aunt Christina.” Then she grimaced. “My apologies. I don’t mean to disparage your mother.”
“I can hardly think of her as my mother, especially when we can’t have that kind of relationship. She made it clear that Peterborough would be furious if he finds out who I am.”
“He’s an ass,” Cassandra said vehemently. “I forgive Aunt Christina most of her idiosyncrasies because I know she resides in a very unhappy union. I wish they would just live apart.”
“Is that a possibility? She made it seem like she was completely under his control.”
“That could very well be. Honestly, I don’t know my uncle very well. I only saw him a few times a year, and even then it was for short periods—he never liked children. My father can’t stand him. More than once, he’s said he wished his sister had married someone else.”
Prudence vaguely recalled the duke mentioning something like that. “Do you think that’s why he was so keen to have her be your sponsor? He wanted to give her something to focus on away from Peterborough?”
“That’s possible. It would certainly explain why he forgave her lack of attention as my sponsor.”
Whereas Prudence had once found Lady Peterborough frustrating with regard to her blasé treatment of Cassandra, she now felt bad for the woman. Probably because she now knew the countess was her mother, but also because her life seemed quite sad. Suddenly, she wished they could have a deeper relationship.
Prudence returned her thoughts to the matter at hand—it was time for the final piece. “You see, the other reason I had to see her was to ask for money—and she wasn’t able to help me because she couldn’t risk her husband finding out.”