“I will be. That was… I don’t know what to say.” She turned to face him. “You made an absolute spectacle.”
“I did. On purpose. It’s our spectacle—we own it. No more secrets. I want everyone to know how I feel about you.” He frowned. “Perhaps we shouldn’t have fibbed about Great-Aunt Flora having a cold. I should have confessed to everyone that I was a fool for not being honest with you and for not accompanying you back to London.”
“I’m glad you did not do that. I am struggling with a great deal, primarily my emotions and the overwhelming plethora of them of late. I don’t think I could have managed all of Society knowing that much. The rumors are bad enough.” She winced.
“I’m so sorry, Pru. I should have told you the truth so long ago. The silly part is that I think I always knew you would understand. You are the first and only woman I’ve ever met whom I actually envisioned in my life, at Aberforth Place, with my family.”
His words made her want to fly into the air, carried by unstoppable joy. This was a surplus of emotion she enjoyed. “I shouldn’t have left like I did. I just couldn’t take one more thing. After so many years of burying my feelings, I was overwrought with them.”
“I understand. You needed to get away—from me.” He gave her a tentative smile. “If you still need to be apart from me, I’ll understand.”
She didn’t. In fact, if she couldn’t be with him now and forever, she didn’t know what she would do. “Did you mean what you said? You love me?”
His eyes glowed with emotion. “More than anything.”
“That was quite a performance!” The shrill voice broke them apart. Prudence stared at the woman who’d come upon them. She was tall and rather harsh looking. “But if you think that will repair the damage, you’re fooling yourselves. When that whelp arrives in due time, everyone will know the truth—that you married her because she’s a whore, and she was fortunate enough to have relatives who could buy you.”
Bennet took two steps until he was close to the woman. “You did this?”
“Did you think I was going to let you break our agreement without suffering any consequences?”
Prudence watched Bennet’s hands curl into fists, his neck and face redden, and his jaw clench. She’d seen him look this angry once before—at the fight in Croydon on the night he’d hired men to kidnap her.
This was what he was afraid of. Losing control. She wasn’t going to let him.
“How did you find out about my wife?” Bennet growled, moving even closer to the woman, who Prudence had to assume was his briefly betrothed, Mrs. Merryfield.
“You confirmed that she was carrying when I guessed,” the woman said haughtily.
“I never answered you!” A vein in his neck stood out, and Prudence knew he was about to step over the line.
The people who were in the garden began to turn and watch what was happening.
Bennet leaned forward, his lip curling. “You bitch.”
Chapter 22
Bennet saw red. Heat and fury pulsed through him as he looked at Mrs. Merryfield as if through a tunnel. He couldn’t see anything else, just her arrogant, angry face.
He felt a hand close around his. The scent was familiar…Prudence. She pushed in front of him, the top of her head obscuring his view of his former betrothed.
How had he ever planned to marry this harpy?
“I don’t know how you learned about my parents,” Prudence said softly, but with an edge of menace Bennet could never have imagined. “However, I will assume it was by nefarious and scandalous measures.”
Mrs. Merryfield opened her mouth, but slammed her thin lips closed once more.
“You should be ashamed of yourself. Imagine being so pathetic as to start a rumor about someone out of sheer jealousy. You couldn’t have been more wrong.” Prudence stepped back and put her arm around Bennet’s waist. She leaned into him. “As you can see, we are deeply in love.”
“We had an agreement,” Mrs. Merryfield growled.
Bennet had just begun to relax, but a new wave of anger rolled through him. “Not that again. If you—”
“Bennet, allow me, please,” Prudence said sweetly. “Mrs. Merryfield, think of your children and the example this sets for them. I can’t imagine they’d be proud of your behavior, for whatever reason you felt it was justified. It simply was not. Furthermore, there is no damage done here. Bennet and I are married, we are happy, and we will continue to be happy. I hope you can find an opportunity to do the same. Now, do yourself the greatest of favors and leave.”
With a final glare, Mrs. Merryfield spun about and stalked toward the house. Bennet saw that his family—and Prudence’s—had come outside and were standing near the doors. As Mrs. Merryfield walked near them, it seemed as though his great-aunts and Cassandra might prevent her progress. All three of them looked as if they might commit some act of physical violence. Thankfully, Wexford was there to step in front of them. Nearly in unison, they turned their attention to Prudence and Bennet, their glowers turning to bright smiles of joy.
Then a smattering of applause broke out in the garden, accompanied by a few cheers. Bennet felt Prudence relax, and his anger flowed away. That had never happened so quickly before. It generally took hours for him to truly calm down.
He looked at his wife and felt more peace than he’d ever known.
She was smiling at people who waved and inclined their heads. A gentleman walked near them and called out, “Bravo!”
Now Prudence blushed.
“Should we go speak with our families?” she asked.
“No, I need you to myself for a moment.” Bennet put her arm around his and guided her to a darkened corner. Then he pulled her behind a shrubbery and cupped her face. “I love you.” He kissed her, softly at first, then more deeply as she twined her arms around his neck.
At last, he pulled back and brushed his lips across her cheek, her forehead, her temple. “I have loved you for so long.”
“How long?” she asked breathlessly.
“Since Riverview—the first time,” he added. “I like to imagine those days we spent together, except I didn’t have you kidnapped, and I wasn’t beholden to my family or duty. I was worry-free and able to choose my own path without fear. I would have chosen you then. I would have begged you to marry me.” He traced his finger along her hairline from her forehead to her cheek. “Now, I beg your forgiveness. I’m so sorry I wasn’t honest with you. I was afraid for my future and for the future of any child I will have. That fear prevented me from wanting to marry, from allowing myself to love.”
She laid her palms flat against his upper chest, pushing them out to the sides near his shoulders. “I didn’t want to marry either. After my father died, my mother urged me to bury my emotions, assuring me they weren’t helpful. I believed that, especially after she died and I felt so alone. If you don’t allow yourself to feel, it’s much easier to bear loneliness.”
Her words twisted his insides so that he could scarcely breathe. “Oh, Pru. You always seem so strong and confident.”