Prudence felt the words like a blow. No, it was his tone. So sanctimonious. So smug. So...so…so similar to her own.
Was that how she sounded?
The air rushed out of her lungs as she thought back to all the times Louisa had used those very same words to describe her.
She’d always been so sure of herself. So confident in her skills—well, all except one. She’d always known that she worked hard to be the perfect wife, that she did her very best to be the perfect niece her aunt expected.
And right here, right now, it all seemed to be for naught. Because she hadn’t mastered the one skill that mattered most to this man.
After dinner, her aunt cornered her alone. “Do not think for one second that you are excused for the way you behaved earlier,” she snarled when Mr. Benedict and Sir William were out of earshot.
“P-pardon?”
Her aunt’s expression was hard, her tone unyielding. “Your behavior was a disgrace,” she hissed. “Taking Lord Damian off alone like that. Throwing yourself at him like some sort of—”
“I did not—”
“Do not interrupt me, girl.” She took a step closer and lowered her voice. “Do you think you can do better than Mr. Benedict, is that it? You, the daughter of a scandal? Do you think that just because you are distantly related to a peer you have a right to that status yourself?”
“N-no, Aunt—”
“Lord Damian can do better than a girl like you, and if you have your sights on the marquess, then let me tell you—”
“I don’t have my sights on anyone.” She said it too loudly and she and her aunt both paused to glance over at the gentlemen.
“Keep your voice down and don’t cause me any more problems.” Her aunt was already fixing a frightening smile on her face as she turned back toward the others. “And you’d better prove Lord Damian correct tomorrow evening.”
“Prove him correct? W-what did he say?”
Aunt Eleanor’s smile faded with a sniff of disdain. “He said you were perfect. Ha!” She let out a bark of laughter that held no humor, only insult. “Can you imagine?”
“He said that…?” Her voice trailed off because it was quickly becoming clear that she was talking to herself. Her aunt had already set off to give orders to the staff and Prudence was left to stand there and wonder.
Just what exactly had Damian said to her aunt earlier today?
12
Uncle Edward rubbed at his temples as early afternoon light filtered in through the study’s open window. The autumn air was crisp and refreshing, but it did not seem to be helping his uncle’s headache. “And you two were alone?”
Damian winced. He had a suspicion that he was responsible for this particular headache. No matter how he phrased it, his uncle kept coming back to that one point. “As I said before, we’d had a chaperone but she’d taken the carriage back and—”
“And you were alone,” his uncle finished.
Damian sighed. He wasn’t sure why he was still trying. Possibly because he didn’t want anyone getting the wrong impression. Not about Pru, at least.
Guilt nagged at him, and something else, too. Something far more elusive and way more terrifying. He’d been so close to Prudence, and when her aunt and those others came outside, nothing had been going on between them, but…
He’d wanted to kiss her.
He’d thought about it.
Oh, who was he trying to fool? If he’d been out there alone with her for one second longer, he would have kissed her. There was no doubt about it, and there was certainly no thinking involved.
How could he not kiss her when she was looking at him like that? Like it was just the two of them. Like they were a team, on the same side, like she might actually need him and his help. Like he had something to offer.
Uncle Edward rubbed his eyes. “You need to be more careful, Damian.”
“I know, I know. But it was my fault, not hers. And the only way I could make it right—”
“Was to offer me up as a sacrifice at some poor girl’s music recital?” His uncle looked pained.
Damian winced again. “Well, when you phrase it like that…”
His uncle gave a short laugh but it trailed off as his eyes narrowed with suspicion. Damian was starting to be very familiar with that look. “This isn’t another one of your attempts to find me a new wife, now is it?”
Damian did his best impersonation of a man offended. “I would never.”
His uncle raised a brow.
“I would never...so soon after my last attempt,” he amended, making them both grin.
Edward shook his head. “You’re the only person I know who wants to run from the peerage.”
“I’m the only person you know. Period.” He heaved a weary sigh that sounded remarkably similar to his uncle’s. “You’re so mired down in work and obligations, you never meet anyone new. Perhaps there is a wonderful young lady out there who is perfect for you—”
“Damian,” his uncle growled in warning.
Damian sighed again, this time in exasperation. His uncle had always been tight lipped about his first marriage, which ended when his wife died shortly before Damian was brought to live with his uncle. All he knew for certain was that his uncle wasn’t keen on trying again, even if that meant the title passed on to him—the notorious half-gypsy nephew who had no desire to take on the role.
But, that was a battle for another day. For right now, all that mattered was making good on his promise to the Dowager Demon to ensure his uncle was in attendance this evening. Otherwise, he hated to think what sort of trouble Prudence would be in with the old bat.
Only talk
