The carriage ride was both a blessing and curse.
It was with relief that Prudence lost herself to the rhythmic clopping of the horses’ hooves as the school and London were left behind her.
She’d never been fond of farewells. Or the emotions that tended to come with them. So it was a relief to have that behind her. The ache she felt would fade, of that she was certain.
She’d learned from experience that the pain of loss and leaving was short-lived. One merely had to bear with it for a while.
She dug into her reticule and pulled out one of the last of her sweets. Experience had also taught her that sweets helped to ease any pain.
“Put that away, girl. We have enough to overcome before Mr. Benedict arrives without adding your excessive weight to the mix.”
Prudence dropped the treat quickly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. While she’d never been as svelte as her friends at the finishing school, she’d never felt so very overweight as she did at this precise moment with her stick-thin elderly aunt eyeing her like she was an eyesore who ought not to be admitted into good company.
She folded her hands in her lap, focusing on the view outside the carriage rather than the blow to her pride. It wasn’t until she’d watched trees whip past her and her breathing evened that her great aunt’s words truly registered.
When they did, they left her winded. “Mr. Benedict is coming to visit?”
Her great aunt blinked at her from behind her spectacles as if eyeing something odious. “Of course. He and his uncle, Sir William. Why else do you think I came for you?”
Why else, indeed? Surely not for the pleasure of my company.
She sniffed, brushing aside the bitter thought.
Sarcasm was a bad habit, not one to be indulged. It was merely hostility masquerading as humor. That was what Aunt Eleanor would say.
And she was right.
She was always right.
Waiting until her features were composed and her posture perfect, she ventured once more into the treacherous topic of her would-be fiancé.
The fact that the arrangement had yet to be finalized was still a sensitive topic.
A topic that grew ever more sensitive with each passing year that their engagement was not announced and a wedding date not set.
But then again, Mr. Benedict was a busy man. Her great aunt so often said so.
An exacting man, from what she’d heard. To be honest, she did not know much about the man she was to wed except that her parents and his had once been friends.
Though his parents had presumably stuck around to watch him grow up while hers had cast aside all parental obligations from the day she was born.
They were too in love, you see.
She fought the urge to roll her eyes at the phrase she’d overheard more times than she could count as an adolescent.
Too in love. So very in love. Aren’t they so romantic?
Oh yes. Her parents were so very romantic, the sort of love story that gossip mongers loved to whisper about and sigh over even as they condemned the lovers for their improper ways.
A modern-day Romeo and Juliet except that they’d found their happily ever after and left their only child to deal with the ensuing tragedy.
Prudence’s mother was supposed to marry another, and by casting aside the man she was meant to marry for the man she’d loved since she was a girl… Well, it was both objectionable and admired among the ladies of the ton.
Or so she’d been told. From her great aunt’s perspective it was merely objectionable, and Prudence couldn’t help but agree.
“It’s about time that boy makes this official,” her aunt muttered.
Prudence looked up with a start. She’d hardly realized her aunt was still talking until she smacked her gloves against her palm in a sound that seemed to echo through the small carriage.
“Pardon me?” Prudence said.
“I will have a talk with him and his uncle when they arrive.” It seemed as though Prudence was no longer an active part of this conversation.
Young ladies were to be seen and not heard, as her aunt liked to point out. That was always the case when she was speaking to Prudence.
No responses were required or welcome unless they were specifically requested. So she listened quietly now as her great aunt spoke ad nauseum about the insulting way Mr. Benedict had procrastinated on setting a date or formalizing the engagement.
“It’s unheard of,” Aunt Eleanor said. “It’s disrespectful.”
No, just humiliating. At this point, it was merely humiliating. Eleanor had to realize what was happening here. Mr. Benedict and his family were waiting to see if a better offer came along.
After all, this arrangement had been discussed when they were mere children and the friendship with her parents had been a solid, dependable thing.
But now a decade had passed and her parents had as little regard for their friends as they had their daughter, allowing even their longest acquaintances to fall by the wayside as they galavanted around the world like gypsies.
While Prudence’s dowry was ample and her connections better than most, she was hardly in a class of her own. There were any number of women who had more to recommend themselves and quite honestly Prudence thought Mr. Benedict would be foolish not to consider his options.
A flurry of unease unfurled in her belly at the thought.
It was not that she was so very set on this match. After all, she did not even know the man in question. But her aunt was set on it and that was what mattered.
For, if this fell through…
Well, it wasn’t as though there was a queue forming for unwanted, not terribly well connected, plain looking young ladies, now was there?
She shifted as the unpleasant thought was followed by another even more unpleasant sensation.
Fear.
It was fear, plain and simple. All this time she’d taken Mr. Benedict’s procrastination as nothing more than a wealthy man’s whim. He was not in a rush to marry, so why rush the engagement?
But now…
If
