“At some point, you’re going to have to accept that you aren’t a fraud, that you belong here with us,” Cassandra said. “We love you, Pru. You’re part of our family. And you’re a viscountess, whether you like it or not.”
Yes, apparently she was. “I love you too. I just don’t want to go out. I need to think.” About what to do next. She loved Bennet and wanted a real marriage with him. Instead of fleeing in distress, she should have stayed and told him.
The butler entered and announced, “Lady Overton.”
Fiona strode into the room looking very determined. And concerned. Her brown-eyed gaze went immediately to Prudence.
Prudence tensed. Every one of her instincts said something bad was about to happen.
“Sit with us, Fi,” Cassandra said, gesturing to an open chair next to her. “Why do you look as if you brought a storm cloud in with you?”
“Because I have,” she said ominously. “I’ve just heard the most awful rumor.” She snapped her lips closed and glanced toward Cassandra. “Perhaps I should have spoken to you first,” she murmured.
“Is this about me?” Prudence asked. “If so, I should like to hear it. No, I wouldn’t like to hear it, but I must.” Stiffening her spine, she clasped her hands in her lap and waited expectantly for the proverbial axe to fall.
“I’m so sorry to be the bearer of this, Pru.” Fiona’s gaze was warm and compassionate. “You know how much I adore you. I never could have navigated my way here in London without you. That someone could say such things about you makes me so angry!” Her auburn brows pitched low over her furious eyes.
Prudence appreciated Fiona’s support and kindness. “I know you wouldn’t ever hurt me. Now, get on with it. Please.”
Nodding slightly, Fiona took a deep breath. “I was at the modiste earlier, and she was eager to ask me if the rumor was true since I know you. I should add that I won’t be using Madame Leclerc again.” She wrinkled her nose. “She said she’d heard that Glastonbury only wed you because you were carrying a child and that he was paid to do so by the Earl of Aldington and Lord Lucien Westbrook. They arranged the marriage for their…” Fiona hesitated, and Prudence knew what would come next.
“For their illegitimate cousin,” she finished for Fiona.
Fiona’s face fell. “Yes, and I wish that was all.”
“There can’t be more?” Cassandra asked, a look of horror crossing her features.
“I’m afraid so,” Fiona said, wincing as if someone had stamped on her foot. “Since Lord Glastonbury did not return to London with you, there is speculation that the child isn’t even his.”
Anger bubbled within Prudence. Instead of pushing it aside, she welcomed the outrage. She’d felt so many emotions of late, perhaps it was time she embraced them. If she wanted to forge a future with Bennet, she was going to have to find a way to do just that. How could she be a loving wife and mother if she refused to let herself feel? “So I trapped a destitute viscount into marriage with the help of my cousins? I had no idea I was so calculating.”
“How can you be glib?” Cassandra asked, her eyes rounding.
“Bravo,” Ada murmured as she briefly touched Prudence’s arm. “How on earth did anyone learn all this? No one knows about your true parentage, and they certainly wouldn’t know that you are carrying a child. Who could be behind this cruelty?”
Prudence thought of all who knew. “The only people who know about my parentage are those who were at the wedding.”
“Plus my father,” Cassandra said, grimacing slightly. “Con and Aunt Christina told him. He seemed to take it well—in fact, he hardly said a word. But he can be awfully harsh when it comes to expectations.”
“You don’t think he would spread that information?” Fiona asked. “Not when it would hurt his sister? From everything you and Pru have told me, Lady Peterborough is terrified of her husband finding out that Pru is her daughter.”
Cassandra looked from Fiona to Prudence. “That’s true, and anyway, I don’t think my father is that cruel, particularly because this involves his sister.”
Prudence wished she shared the same confidence. As Cassandra’s companion, she’d lived with the duke, but she couldn’t say she knew him very well.
“Who are our other suspects?” Ada asked. “Could a servant have overheard something and shared the information? A great many rumors are started belowstairs.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” Cassandra said.
Prudence pinned her gaze to Cassandra. “Remember that day I told you everything, and Bart came in to announce that Bennet was here?”
“You can’t suspect Bart.” Cassandra shook her head. “I realize I’ve only been in this household a short time, but Ruark values him as more than his butler. He trusts him completely.”
“I can’t imagine it’s him either,” Prudence said. While she also hadn’t lived here long, Bart possessed a very dry sense of humor and was very personable.
“I suppose it could be any number of people,” Ada said, frowning.
It didn’t really matter who was behind the rumor. It was true—most of it, anyway—and now everyone would look at Prudence as though she were a conniving interloper. It was already bad enough that she’d been a companion and was now a viscountess. This would be so much worse. There was going to be talk behind her back as well as curious looks and imperious judgment.
The other truth was that Bennet knew all this about her. But what reason would he have to spread this information? Furthermore, he wasn’t even in London.
Prudence jolted upright, her spine stiffening. “My mother. Peterborough hears this rumor, things could go very badly for her.”
“How badly?” Ada asked, her tone as heavy as the air in the room.
Cassandra jumped to her feet. “I need to go to my father. He’ll know what to do.” She looked to Prudence. “I’m sorry to leave you just now.”
“You must go.” Prudence squeezed her hands together so hard that she couldn’t feel her fingers. “My mother needs protection. Please. Should I go with you?”
“No, you stay. I can see how distraught you are.” Cassandra hurriedly left, but the air in the room remained weighted. Silence reigned for a few moments before Fiona spoke. “What can we do, Pru?”
“I don’t know.” She tried to summon a smile and failed. “I just feel so…defeated.” She wished Bennet were here.
“Don’t. The Prudence I know is courageous and resilient and she makes her own fortune. You’ve survived hardship and kidnapping and come out stronger for it.”
“Kidnapping?” Fiona stared at them, her mouth open.
“Oh bollocks,” Ada whispered. “I forgot she didn’t know.”
Prudence actually laughed. “It’s all right. I’ll tell the story—it will take my mind off this catastrophe.” Then she’d make plans to return to Somerset. To her husband.
To where she belonged.
“You’ve no flowers at all?” Great-Aunt Flora asked from the window of Bennet’s London study that looked out to his tiny garden. There was a small tree and a few shrubs, and no room for anything else.