He hadn’t exactly been seeking permission, but his uncle had granted it all the same—along with a word of warning about marrying for all the wrong reasons.
Namely, love.
“Look, Uncle Edward, I know you had a bad experience, but that doesn’t mean that I cannot make this work.”
His uncle leaned back in his seat with a sigh. “It’s just…” He sighed again and shifted, eyeing Damian carefully. “You are young and so is she. It’s easy to confuse longing with love at your age and—”
“I love her, Uncle. Of that I am certain.” Even as he said it, the words felt right. There was no other word for it. Did he long for her? Certainly. Did he find her beautiful and enchanting?
Of course.
But it was more than that. He loved the way her mind worked; he loved that he was one of few who was lucky enough to see past her prim, pursed lips and her fierce scowls to the sweet, vulnerable, giant heart that lay beneath.
He loved that she challenged him and that she saw straight through his charm and his flirtation to the man beneath. He loved that she did not laugh at his dreams of a conservatory and that she saw all that he wished he could be.
He loved...her. He loved her with all his heart, and he knew that she felt the same.
“Are you certain that she shares your feelings?” his uncle asked.
“Yes.” He said it without a doubt because if there was one thing he knew it was Prudence. And there was no denying the emotions he’d seen in her eyes when they’d been alone together. There was no way he’d been alone when the very real, very physical connection pulled them together and seemed to wrap them in a cocoon of their very own.
He stopped pacing his uncle’s office long enough to turn and face him. “I know that she feels it, too.”
His uncle looked like he wished to argue, but he merely nodded. “Very well, then. I suppose there’s only one thing left to do.”
Damian was already heading toward the door. “I can be in London by nightfall.”
“Good luck,” his uncle called after him.
His head was spinning as he mounted his ride. He had no time to prepare for a journey, not when the woman he loved was on her own, no doubt terrified about what the future had in store.
Why had she left like that? Why hadn’t she come to him?
He shook off the fears that threatened to mar his certainty. He would go to her, he would find her. And once he did…
He wouldn’t leave her side until she agreed to be his bride.
15
Delilah was watching her warily as she and the other girls pretended to embroider. “So you just...left, then?”
Prudence, who actually was embroidering, continued to stare at the linen in her hands. “That is correct.”
“Well…” Delilah’s voice trailed off in what was either shock or awe or perhaps a mix of the two.
Prudence didn’t have to look up and see Delilah’s expression to know that she’d stunned her best friend. She’d stunned herself with her rash actions.
“Well, I for one am proud of you,” Louisa said, leaning over to wrap an arm around her shoulders in a side hug.
“Yes, yes, of course,” Delilah said quickly. “I am so very proud of you for standing up to that nasty great aunt of yours. It’s just so surprising, that’s all.”
“Very surprising,” Addie added as she bounced her brother Reggie on her knee.
It was Miss Grayson who broke the silence and asked the one question she did not wish to face. “Do you have any idea what you will do now?”
Her hands froze over the embroidery. She’d been doing nothing but think about that ever since she’d left her aunt’s house. The entire carriage ride back to town had been filled with that question.
Well, that wasn’t quite true. The ride back she’d dwelled extensively on the dilemma of what she would do now that her aunt had washed her hands of her and the last of her family saw her as a disgrace, that was true.
But what she studiously hadn’t thought about had seemed to fill that long carriage ride even more.
A particular person.
And unwanted feelings.
She dropped her linen into her lap with a sigh. “I have no idea what I shall do, but I won’t be a burden to you any longer than I have to.”
Miss Grayson leaned forward and laid a hand over hers. “You could never be a burden, dear Prudence. You are a part of this family, and you always will be.”
Prudence was horrified to find tears welling in her eyes at the kindness. It was hardly unexpected—Miss Grayson was always kind. She was the kindest woman Prudence knew, and the most sensible as well. And as if that wasn’t enough, Miss Grayson was a beauty and no one could deny it.
And yet she was nearly on the shelf.
And Prudence was sure to follow. She glanced down at her frumpy gown and her too large hips. She did not need a mirror to see that she was plain—too plain for the likes of Damian.
He’d see that one day, and when he did...well, she did not wish to be there as a witness.
“Perhaps you could tell us more of this music tutor you spoke of in your letters,” Delilah said.
Prudence sniffed, her lips pressing together in a scowl that felt too familiar. “Really, Delilah, subtlety is not your specialty.”
Delilah grinned, utterly unrepentant. “So Rupert tells me. But it’s still amusing to play coy.”
Addie laughed and Louisa leaned forward. “I’ve heard Lord Damian is exceedingly handsome, is that true?”
Prudence sniffed. “I wouldn’t know.”
“What?” Addie laughed again. “You do not have eyes?”
“Of course I have eyes,” she said, her tone turning smug and sanctimonious.
Heavens, had she always sounded so much like Mr. Benedict? How did any of her friends stand her?
And yet she couldn’t seem to shake it. She fell
