It was understandable, just like his experience as a boy living outside of society had made him wary of entering back into the fold. In that sense, they were the same. Each so determined not to repeat their parents’ mistakes.
Just as he knew what her response would be to any talk of this new connection they shared, he also knew that she would never be happy living the life her aunt had set out for her. But now that begged the question...at what point had he come to know Pru better than she knew herself?
And more importantly, how could he make her see that her quest to please her aunt was in vain? That no matter how perfectly she acted, no matter how good, how quick, how smart, she would never find the happiness there that she deserved?
He closed his eyes as he straightened, heading back toward his own home to get ready for the evening to come.
His heart felt like a dead weight but his mind was clearer now than it ever had been before.
He loved Prudence Pottermouth. And for better or worse, he was going to make sure she knew it.
But first…
A smile tugged at his lips.
First he would make sure that her performance tonight was a success.
13
This night was destined to be a disaster. She would be a failure. The entire idea was ludicrous, and it was all Damian’s fault.
Prudence paced the small quarters of the music room as the clocked seemed to count down to her certain doom.
She huffed loudly at the thought. See what he’d done? Damian’s grand plan had her so off kilter she was starting to have the sort of melodramatic thoughts befitting Louisa.
That would not do.
She forced herself to sit primly on a settee and take deep, even breaths.
She would not turn into Louisa. No, sir. No matter what the situation, she had her head on her shoulders and she would survive with her pride and dignity intact.
She shut her eyes tight at the thought of the horror to come.
Fine, perhaps she would not survive with her dignity, but she would survive. And whatever the extent of Aunt Eleanor’s wrath, she would survive it. There was no other option.
What if there were other options? What if there was someone else?
She clenched her hands into fists and screwed her eyes shut so tightly it hurt. She could not go there. The memory of those few brief moments when he’d touched her...when he’d held her hands and made her believe…
She gave her head a quick jarring shake. He’d gone crazy, that was the only explanation for the way he’d looked at her, the way he’d held her close.
And she was just as insane, obviously. Because she’d let him hold her, and when he’d hinted that maybe there could be a future for them, well…
She stood up abruptly.
Obviously there could be no such thing. He was the heir to a marquess. He could have any lady he wanted. More importantly, he’d never even liked her and she’d never cared for him, either. She bit her lip. She’d never cared for him...until recently.
But what he was saying, what he was inferring—it was just Damian being Damian. He was reckless, impulsive. More than that, he was kind.
She let out a loud exhale as she sank back down into her seat. Her bones suddenly felt like heavy rocks and her whole body seemed to tremble with the weight of this new realization.
He was kind. Even as a child when he was forever teasing and playing pranks, he’d always been kind. He had a good heart. And she had no doubt it was that kindness that had led to his rash actions earlier.
Or at least, she’d assumed he was hinting that he was another option.
She rubbed at her temples as she replayed everything he’d said, every look, every touch…
Surely that was what he’d meant, but it was best to forget it immediately because he’d been taking pity, maybe even hoping to save the poor fool who’d gone and fallen for him.
Her groan sounded loud in the vacant room.
Was that what this was, this muddled mix of emotions? Was this what it meant to have...feelings for someone?
She clapped a hand over her chest and rubbed where her chest ached. Then she supposed it was no wonder all of her friends had fallen victim. This illness was overwhelming in its attack and brutal with its symptoms.
At this particular moment she could even understand why her parents had chosen as they had. They’d been in love.
But they’d also been selfish.
She opened her eyes slowly this time, letting the room come into focus as she evened her breathing and blocked out the memories that threatened to drown her. Damian dancing with her; Damian being patient and kind no matter how many times she fumbled over the keys; Damian teasing her and making her laugh; Damian looking at her and seeing her and…
And liking what he saw.
The realization was so sweet it brought tears to her eyes.
“There you are.” Aunt Eleanor marched into the room looking put out already. “Are you hiding, child?”
“No, Aunt Eleanor.” She came to stand just as voices filled the hallway. Aunt Eleanor’s voice dropped to a whisper that was all the more terrifying for its softness. “Mr. Benedict is your only chance, girl, and don’t you forget it. After everything I’ve done for you, you had better make this match, or else.”
Pru blinked. She had no idea what ‘or else’ meant in this context but she could guess. Her aunt would wash her hands of her once and for all, no doubt. Her only family would abandon her...again.
“I understand, Aunt Eleanor.”
Her aunt grunted in acknowledgment.
“Pardon the interruption...” Damian swept into the room so quickly, his voice so loud it made her stiffen. He flashed her a small smile before turning a far more elegant grin in the direction
