Prudence tensed even though his tone was as mild as his expression. He hardly seemed put out by the fact that his potential bride had been caught alone with a known rake.
That was...good, she supposed. It wouldn’t do to have a jealous hothead for a husband. Not that he had anything to be jealous about.
Damian might have been exceedingly handsome and extraordinarily dashing, particularly when compared to the plain, one might say bland-looking Mr. Benedict, but no one in his right mind would believe that he was interested in her. Not as anything more than a student, at least.
Aunt Eleanor’s laughter was jarring. “You know how eccentric these young lads can be. Always wanting to make a name for themselves.”
Mr. Benedict’s sniff seemed to indicate that he did indeed understand. Or perhaps he was merely coming down with a cold. Either way, the sniff rubbed Prudence the wrong way.
“But you know,” Aunt Eleanor continued. “Lord Damian is quite in demand as a tutor. He only takes on special cases.” She flicked a damning gaze in Prudence’s direction. “Those who deserve extra attention.”
“Ah.” His face lit with pleasure as he turned to Prudence. “You take your studies seriously then, that is good to hear.”
“Mmm,” she murmured. “Quite.”
“You have a special interest in music, I take it?” Mr. Benedict looked so eager at this news she was stumped as to how to answer.
“I, er…” Her mind flashed back to her lesson this morning, the way Damian’s face seemed to glow with happiness as he talked about music. “I believe music can be quite powerful.”
She expected this man who apparently so revered music to agree, but to her surprise he tipped his head from side to side. “Personally, I find music to be a silly and frivolous waste of one’s time. But for a young lady it’s a necessity, I assume.”
Her brows arched and she had to resist the urge to shoot Aunt Eleanor with a questioning look. She’d made it seem as though Mr. Benedict held a woman’s ability to play the pianoforte above all else.
She ought to have known that her aunt was exaggerating. By the sounds of it, this man was more sensible than she’d given him credit. “My best subject has always been mathematics,” she offered.
He stared at her for a long moment. Then he laughed, exchanging an amused look with his uncle. “Mathematics? Whatever will you use that for?”
She straightened, ready to reply, but her aunt spoke first. “Young ladies are often encouraged to learn their numbers and figures. It’s highly useful when managing a household, I assure you.”
Prudence stared at her aunt with an open mouth. Had Aunt Eleanor just...stood up for her?
But Aunt Eleanor chose that moment to shoot her a glare that made her insides wither. Prudence had spoken out of turn, that glare seemed to say. And now her aunt was doing her best to fix the situation.
“Is that what they’re teaching young girls at these finishing schools nowadays?” Mr. Benedict asked with a sneer that made Prudence squirm in her seat.
Aunt Eleanor merely took a sip of her soup.
“All a young lady needs to know to run a household is how to add two plus two, isn’t that right, Sir William?”
His uncle laughed heartily. Aunt Eleanor did not.
“What else are they teaching Miss Pottermouth at that school of hers?” Sir William asked.
“Never fear, gentlemen. The ladies who run the school have their priorities in order,” she said with a sniff. “Why, several of the girls there have recently become engaged. Isn’t that right, Prudence?”
“Yes, Aunt Eleanor,” she murmured dutifully.
Her aunt rattled off the engagements, which sounded impressive indeed. An earl. A marquess. The second son of a duke.
Prudence had to fight to keep her posture straight as she listened to her friends’ epic romances reduced to a list of titles and connections.
It wasn’t as though she were jealous. She wasn’t. Aside from her great aunt, her connections were not so very great. And being the daughter of a scandal hardly helped her situation. She’d never had hopes for a great marriage or even dreamt of a title.
She glanced over at Mr. Benedict who was clearly impressed with her friends and their newfound status.
No, she was absolutely content to marry a wealthy merchant. It was the best she could hope for and she knew it.
Mr. Benedict turned to her. “My, you are quite well connected, aren’t you?”
Her smile felt wan. “I suppose I am.”
“Now you are being modest, dear.” Her great aunt’s voice was grating in its falseness. “Why, just this afternoon Lord Damian assured me that he and his uncle would be joining us for a music recital so we can all hear how well his lessons have been working.”
“The Marquess of Ainsley will be joining us?” Sir William’s eyes were wide with shock. He and Mr. Benedict both looked suitably impressed.
Her aunt’s gaze was fixed on her and Prudence was certain she’d seen her start.
Recital? Tomorrow?
And Damian would be there? She couldn’t even bring herself to think about the marquess or her potential husband, not now when pieces were falling into place.
So that was how he’d handled her aunt. With a bribe. He’d no doubt used his position and his uncle’s to ensure that her aunt was appeased.
Prudence toyed with her spoon. She wasn’t certain whether to be amused, impressed, or annoyed. Was that how he handled all situations? How many times had he been caught alone with a student and talked his way out of it by using his uncle’s status?
“Miss Pottermouth, is everything all right?” Mr. Benedict asked.
“Oh, yes. Of course.” She smiled brightly, as if that would make it true. Meanwhile her insides were twisting and churning and she could not be sure whether it was at the idea of performing or the thought of Damian with other young ladies.
“Well, I for one am looking forward to hearing this performance tomorrow evening,” Mr. Benedict said with a smile in her direction that felt so patronizing it
