The red gown had been only partially constructed when Evie had gone to see one of her favorite modistes. She’d brought the woman to the Wexfords’ where the modiste had measured Prudence then finished the gown with the help of Christina’s maid.
Christina and Cassandra had gone shopping for shoes and gloves, and they’d somehow procured a pair of ruby combs for Prudence’s hair, which Christina’s maid had dressed in the most elegant style Prudence had ever worn. There was also a ruby necklace and matching earrings. The jewelry felt heavy on her, and Prudence found herself longing for an apron and Mrs. Logan’s kitchen.
When she walked into the Tildens’ house flanked by her mother and her uncle, Prudence held her head high and prayed she looked like a viscountess. Lord and Lady Tilden had greeted them quite pleasantly, but instead of a genuine warmth, there was surprise. Whether it was due to Prudence having the nerve to come or the fact that she was accompanied by the Duke of Evesham would remain a mystery.
In the ballroom, they took up a position somewhat near the dancing. Cassandra moved to Prudence’s side and leaned close. “You are absolutely stunning. People are seeing you looking splendid in that gown and those jewels.”
Prudence touched the ruby necklace at her throat. “They’re gaping at me wondering why I am here. If they’re noticing my attire or accessories, it’s to question how I managed to swindle all of you into outfitting me like this.” Prudence had never felt more exposed or vulnerable. She was desperate to leave. “How long must we stay?”
They’d kept their conversation very quiet so that only the two of them could hear. That didn’t mean Christina hadn’t noticed. She moved closer. “Don’t look so stricken, Prudence. Hold your head high and behave as if there is nowhere else you should be.”
The duke approached her. “We should dance, Lady Glastonbury.”
It wasn’t an invitation. Not that she would have refused him.
She put her hand on his arm, and he escorted her to the dance floor as the next set was about to begin.
“I don’t dance often anymore,” he said brusquely. “But this is important for my sister, so I will do my best.”
“I have rarely danced, Your Grace.” She prayed she wouldn’t embarrass him.
“Don’t ‘Your Grace’ me. We are social equals now, so you would call me Duke. However, you are my niece, so you will call me Uncle Evesham.”
They took their position in the square, and it was all Prudence could do not to panic. The music started, and she managed to get on well enough, recalling the steps, mostly from watching Fiona’s lessons when she’d first come to town and then helping her practice on occasion.
When she and the duke were near each other, he said, “As I said, I don’t do this often. Lucien will come and replace me soon, and I will circuit the ballroom extolling your grace and virtue.”
Virtue. Prudence nearly tripped.
“Thank you…Uncle Evesham.” Her uncle was a bleeding duke.
For whatever reason, this new situation, new life began to finally take hold of her. Even if she hadn’t been the daughter of a viscount and a countess and the granddaughter of a duke, she was a viscountess. She was Lady Glastonbury, and she absolutely belonged here, whether she wanted it or not.
The dance ended, and Lucien came to take his father’s place. Before departing the dance floor, the duke leaned close and bussed her cheek. “You are my sister’s daughter. You carry our blood. That’s all that matters.”
He didn’t look at her as he turned and strode away. She watched him go with overwhelming gratitude and affection.
Lucien took her hand as the music began. “You look as if you’re slightly more cheerful,” he observed with a smile.
“Surprisingly so.” She never would have imagined it.
“Then I can’t wait to see what happens as the evening progresses.” He swept her into a turn, and they parted so she couldn’t ask what he meant.
The rest of the set passed in a breathless whirl. She made only a few missteps, and Lucien was adept enough to cover them for her so that she didn’t make a fool of herself.
She thanked him as they left the dance floor. “Please tell me I don’t have to dance anymore. That was utterly exhausting.”
As she turned her head to find Cassandra or Christina, she froze, her body stopped as if she’d walked into a stone wall. Standing with her relatives were her other relatives: Flora and Minerva.
Their gowns were dreadfully out of style, but their smiles were wide, and Prudence was so pleased to see them. Shocked, but pleased.
Regaining her composure, she hurried toward them. “Flora, Minerva, how is it that you’re here?”
A hush seemed to fall over the ballroom. The buzz of conversation halted, and the air thinned.
“I brought them.”
The two women parted to reveal Bennet. Dressed in black superfine with his usual simply knotted cravat, he was everything she’d ever wanted. Before she’d known she wanted it.
A smattering of murmurs broke the quiet. But only briefly before silence—and expectation—reigned once more.
“Bennet,” she breathed, scarcely believing that she was really seeing him, that he wasn’t a dream.
He took a deep breath and spoke in a loud, clear voice. “Good evening, my lady wife. I’m so pleased to join you this evening as we planned.” Since the room had gone still, everyone could hear what he said.
Minerva tipped her head as she stepped toward Prudence. “Yes, thank you for allowing our dear boy to delay his trip to London so that Flora could recover from her cold.”
What cold?
“So thoughtful of you to spare him,” Flora said. “But now we’re all here together, as intended.”
They were publicly explaining why Prudence had returned to London without her husband. Her breath caught, and her pulse began to race.
“Yes, as intended,” Prudence repeated.
Bennet walked toward her, his gaze fixed on her and only her. He took her hand and pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist. “How I’ve missed you,” he murmured just for them. Then he raised his voice once more. “I feel as if I must declare for everyone to hear that I love you beyond measure. I would marry you over and over again, a thousand times, if I could. You are the woman of my dreams and the lady of my heart. And those are the reasons I married you.”
His blue-green eyes were so brilliant. Were there tears fighting to spill? If so, he didn’t let them.
She worried she wouldn’t have the same control. Emotion welled, her throat tightened, and her face flushed.
“Huzzah!” Lucien called out. “To Lord and Lady Glastonbury!”
Several people nearby answered with “Huzzah.” Prudence couldn’t take her eyes from Bennet.
He offered her his arm. “Shall we promenade?”
She immediately took it, glad for his stability. “Directly outside, please,” she whispered.
“Of course.” He led her toward the doors, smiling and inclining his head at people as they walked past.
Prudence focused straight ahead, still not wanting to see anyone or the way they looked at her. When they were outside, she exhaled at last, her body wilting.
Bennet clasped her waist and drew her close as he maneuvered her away from the house. “All right?”