“When this is all over, you and I…” He leaned in closer. “We will talk.”
She swallowed.
“We will finish the conversation we started today.”
It wasn’t a question so she did not answer. She merely watched him walk away.
When at last the dreaded recital got underway, she did as Damian instructed. She watched his fingers move over the keys so effortlessly, the way he walked through life. She kept her eyes on his soft smile that seemed to say everything would be fine.
And it would. For him, it would.
She watched his eyes, which were the first eyes to ever look at her as though he saw her—completely and in all her imperfect glory—and found her loveable nonetheless.
And when it came time for her to open her mouth and sing, the sight of him staring back at her, that smile and his gaze—it relaxed her enough to get through the song.
Not perfectly. Very far from perfectly.
But she savored the moment all the same.
While the marquess was cornered by Mr. Benedict, Aunt Eleanor was having a quiet conversation in the far corner with Sir William, that left Pru and Damian on their own.
Alone...except for all the other people in the room.
They might as well have been alone, though. To her mind, there was no one else there.
“You were amazing tonight,” Damian said.
She laughed. “I was passable.”
“You were perfect.”
She rolled her eyes. “You were the only person to think so.”
He narrowed his eyes as if mulling it over. “Everyone else is a dullard.”
She let out an utterly unladylike snort of amusement. “If you say so.”
He puffed his chest out. “Well, I am the musical genius here. And I do say so.”
She tipped her chin to concede. “I will not argue the point. If the musical genius says I was perfect, who am I to fight it?”
He laughed at the teasing in her tone like she’d hoped he would.
She truly hadn’t been all that good, but she’d held a tune, all thanks to him. Her gaze hadn’t wavered from him, though it was likely rude to ignore the audience.
But with her eyes on him and his on her, she’d been able to relax. To be herself. And whether her aunt had approved...she knew not.
She doubted it.
She was almost guaranteed to have been disappointed.
But even so, Prudence would survive. Just like she would survive whatever retribution came her way when she informed her aunt that she would not marry Mr. Benedict. She couldn’t, not when she knew for certain that it would be more of the same. She’d always thought marriage would spare her from the miserable life she’d had with her great aunt, unappreciated, unvalued, and unloved.
But if she were to marry Mr. Benedict, it would be more of the same. And the thought of it, a lifetime sentence of more of the same…
She could not do it. It was no longer a matter of what she wished or what she wanted, it was now a matter of what she could bear.
She might not be able to have the man who’d stolen her heart, but she could not bear to commit the rest of her life to more of the same. She’d rather face the fear of an unknown future than the certainty of crushing disappointment.
Now she just had to tell Mr. Benedict.
And her great aunt.
Her stomach roiled at the thought but she shoved it to the side. For tonight, for just a little while, she wanted to be happy. Was that so much to ask?
“Pru…” Damian’s voice instantly set her on edge, so filled with meaning. “We need to talk.”
She looked away to make sure no one overheard. She supposed he was right. So much had happened between them, and yet...nothing at all.
He hadn’t compromised her, and she was still promised to another. Or at least she assumed that was the conversation happening right now on the other end of the room.
She wouldn’t be for long, but Damian needn’t know that. Because if he did, if he thought for one moment that her crying off this potential engagement was because of him…
She winced as she remembered what he’d said only the day before about wanting to save her.
He would, that was the beautiful thing about Damian. The thing she hadn’t noticed when she’d been young, or at least she hadn’t been charitable enough to give him credit for.
He was protective and generous and thoughtful. A tease and a prankster and a rebel...and good. He was such a good man.
So good that he would anger his uncle and thwart all of society just to save her from an unhappy marriage.
The thought made her breathing shaky.
He was so kind that he would feel the need to take care of her, maybe even marry her if he knew that what she felt for him was what was finally setting her free.
Terror the likes of which she’d never known had her closing her eyes for a moment. But this terror wasn’t enough to shake her resolve.
Damian had opened her eyes to the fact that she’d been living in fear for far too long. She’d spent a lifetime trying to fit into a role that was too small. She’d worked her whole life to be the perfect niece and one evening in Mr. Benedict’s presence and she’d known that her future would be more of the same.
“Prudence?” Damian’s voice was soft. Gentle. “Are you all right?”
She forced a smile. “Yes,” she said.
She would be. Of that she was certain.
His gaze was warm and knowing. “It will be all right, you’ll see. I’ll make certain of it.”
Her smile trembled. That was the trouble. He would make everything all right if she let him, but she couldn’t allow that.
He had a life ahead of him, one filled with obligations and duties that he could not shirk. His uncle would never approve of her, and society as a whole would have a fit. A marquess could not marry the daughter
