Summerset Abbey (17 page)

She gave a wobbly smile and he reached over and captured her hands. “You didn’t know this?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. I never even suspected. There was no reason to. She rarely spoke of her family or my father, but I don’t know, I just never thought to ask. I had a family and a happy childhood. It never occurred to me that anything was amiss. She died several years ago, so I can’t even ask her about it.”

Her mind raced, wondering whether Sir Philip knew. Maybe he felt sorry for her mother and that was why a maid was given the job as governess to his children. And who was her real father? She shifted. For that matter, who was her mother? The woman she knew—staid, firm, and careful with her only child, had lied to her for her whole life. Prudence might never know who that woman really was. Anyone who could tell her was gone.

“You had a happy childhood? So your mother married again?”

She looked up at her cousin, whose blue eyes had darkened with concern. Concern for her? Or concern over a family scandal? Her cheeks reddened to have someone she didn’t even know, a stranger, know about her shame. “No. We lived with the Buxtons. Sir Philip and his daughters. My mother was their governess.”

His eyebrows raised so high, they almost disappeared into his hairline. “Blimey.”

She closed her eyes a moment, afraid she was going to faint again. She had no idea what she was supposed to do with this new knowledge. There was just too much to sort out and she didn’t want to do it in front of someone she had just met, even if he was her cousin. She swallowed and changed the subject. “What about you? Your father must be my uncle, then?”

He seemed to understand her desire to change the subject. “It would seem so. He runs the livery down the street. He and my mum scrimped and saved for years to start their own business. It wasn’t easy but they did it.”

Prudence could hear the pride in his voice and she felt a pang of longing. Not too long ago she also had been proud of her family and who she was. Now she knew even less about her family and herself than she did before.

“They wanted something to pass on to us, but even they understand that cars are the way of the future. My older brother had already left to work in a factory outside of town and my little sister works in the office there, so I’ll probably be the one who gets the livery. It’s a good thing I like it well enough.”

“Were there any other siblings besides my mother and your father?” Prudence’s hunger for information had increased tenfold.

He grinned. “There were six altogether and tons of cousins. You can’t throw a rock in this town without hitting a Tate. Getting together for Christmas was like organizing a fair, though we don’t do it like that anymore. Too many of us.”

“Sounds wonderful,” she said. And it did, though Christmas with the Buxtons had always been wonderful, too. Sir Philip had showered everyone with gifts, and Prudence had received just as many as Rowena and Victoria had. She blinked away the tears. What was wrong with her? How sentimental she had become. “So what are you doing here? Everything is all right, isn’t it? Not that it’s any of my business, of course. I didn’t mean to presume.”

“No, of course not. I’m just visiting Gran. She took a little tumble and broke her foot. The nurse is cleaning her up a bit so I’m waiting.” He looked at her, his eyes wide. “She’s your grandmother, too, you know.”

Prudence’s heart felt as if it would beat out of her chest. “I’ve never met her.”

The woman came out the door with a note in her hand. “Here is the return message for Miss Rowena Buxton.”

Prudence stood and took the note. Slipping it into her pocket, she turned to her cousin. “It was really nice meeting you. I would love to see you again, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble. There is still so much I would like to know.”

“I can imagine.” His blue eyes were sympathetic, then he brightened. “Say, would you like to meet Gran right now?”

Prudence backed up a step and shook her head. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Obviously the parting wasn’t a good one, and now we both know why. I don’t want to upset her, especially with her being down and all.”

“Huh. A little broken ankle couldn’t keep her down, could it, Nora?” He addressed this last part to the young woman who had returned to her seat behind the desk.

The woman snorted in answer.

He lowered his voice. “We wouldn’t have to tell her who you are. We’ll just say you are a friend of mine. You don’t much look like the picture I’ve seen of your mum, except for a bit around the mouth. I think it would work. Wouldn’t you like to meet her?”

Prudence took a deep breath. Her mother’s mother. “Yes. I think I would.”

The young woman looked up from the desk where she obviously had been eavesdropping. “Your Gran is finished with the nurse now, if you want to go in.”

Wesley looked at Prudence, who nodded.

They walked through the doors and into the main room of the hospital. The scent of sulfur and lemon hung heavy in the air, and for a moment Prudence wondered which of these screens was hiding Rowena’s Jon. But then she forgot everything as they approached an old woman lying in a narrow white bed. Her face had that soft, blurry look that comes when a stout woman grows old and loses all her plumpness. Other than the sharp blue of her eyes, Prudence saw little of her mother in this old woman.

“Thought you’d got tired of waiting and left me here to suffer all alone, just like the rest of you heathen young ones.” The woman’s voice was brusque, but the glance she shot Wesley was soft, and Prudence knew that whatever she said, this particular grandchild was a favorite.

“You must be talking about my ungrateful siblings and cousins, because I would never leave my sainted grandmother alone.” He paused a moment and then grinned. “Someone needs to protect the nurses.”

His grandmother snorted and he winked. Drawing Prudence forward by the arm, he turned again to his grandmother. “And look, I brought a friend to meet you.”

“I noticed that, but was ignoring it because I couldn’t believe a grandson of mine would bring a special girl to meet his grandmother while she was lying on her back and couldn’t be properly intimidating.”

“I’m sure you will find a way. Grandmother, this is Prudence. Prudence, this is my grandmother, Mildred.”

The old woman fumbled at the small table until Wesley handed her a pair of small wire spectacles.

“It would be nice to meet you, dear, if I didn’t feel like I was at such a disadvantage. What is your last name? My grandson evidently doesn’t know how to make proper introductions.”

Her eyes took in Prudence’s clothing, hairstyle, and carriage in one shrewd glimpse. Prudence faltered as she tried to come up with a last name. “Buxton,” she said quickly, without thinking. “Prudence Buxton.”

The still silence coming from the bed spoke louder than any words. For a long moment, no one said anything and Prudence’s chest tightened.

“You look like a Buxton,” the old woman finally said. “All that dark hair and those green eyes. Been the downfall of many a town girl.” Her voice was bitter, but then she shook it off with a distasteful shiver of her gray head. “I heard you girls came home to Summerset after your father died. What are you doing hobnobbing with a boy like my grandson? Isn’t he a bit beneath you?”

“Don’t worry, Gran. It’s not like that. We’re just friends.” Wesley cast Prudence a frown and she smiled weakly.

She hadn’t meant to say Buxton. It just popped out. What a muddle. Her grandmother must think she was Rowena.

“In my day, girls were friends with girls and boys were friends with boys. But your generation thinks they can change the world, so I guess this is no different. But mark my words, no good comes from such friendships.” She glared at Prudence.

“I think much good can come of it,” Prudence said, stung. “If I weren’t friends with your grandson, I never would have been able to meet you.”

The old woman’s lips twitched. “I see you got the Buxton silver tongue. Some of your class think they deserve to have whatever they want because they’re wellborn, but you Buxtons get what you want because you can talk people into it. No matter. You will all do what you please. Now off with both of you. Wesley, please try to remember that you can act like a gentleman even if you weren’t born one.”

She leaned back and closed her eyes and Wesley leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek before taking Prudence’s arm.

He didn’t speak until he had escorted her outside into the crisp autumn air.

“What did you do that for? She’s going to find out the truth eventually.”

“I’m sorry. It just popped out.”

Wesley took out his pocket watch and checked the time. “I have to get back to the livery stables. Would you like to come for supper some time? I’m sure my father would like to meet you.”

“Are you sure about that? I’m the”—she choked on the word—“bastard daughter of a fallen woman. If the family never mentions my mother, it’s obvious they want to forget the shame she caused them.”

“Why don’t you let me talk to them first? Discreetly, of course. Then I’ll send you a message to come for tea or dinner. I would like to give my family the benefit of the doubt. After all,
you
aren’t to blame for the circumstances of your birth.”

After her cousin had left, Prudence sat on a bench in front of the hospital to wait for Andrew. Her throat ached from holding back the tears. She wondered who her father was and how much of her mother’s story was true. Was her father really dead? And did any of it really matter?

She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she hadn’t realized that Andrew had pulled up with the motorcar until he honked the horn at her.

She climbed into the seat, blushing.

“You looked as if you were a million miles away.”

“I felt like I was a million miles away,” she admitted. “I was actually thinking of my family.”

Andrew pulled the auto back onto the dirt road. “You said your mother was a servant at Summerset. Does that mean you have family around here?”

Prudence hesitated, wondering how much to tell him, as he smiled at her warmly, encouragingly. What would he think if he knew she was the illegitimate daughter of a maid? “I actually just met a cousin for the first time,” she finally said. “He was at the hospital to visit my grandmother, whom I also met.”

“How wonderful! What did you think of them? Sometimes I think it would be fine not to know who some members of my family are.”

“It was interesting.” She smiled. “But my cousin was very kind. I’ll be meeting with him again, I hope.”

“That’s good for you, then.”

She looked over on hearing the stiff tone of his voice. He stared straight ahead, his jaw set. Could he be jealous? Because the London Buxtons had avoided most formal society, none of the girls had learned the first thing about attracting a man. Flirtations and coquettishness were completely foreign to them. Prudence’s mother had been too straightforward to teach them such things, although, Prudence reflected bitterly, her mother obviously knew something about attracting men, if not keeping them.

She quickly cast thoughts of Andrew out of her mind. Her goal was to stay at Summerset only as long as she had to—she couldn’t let herself get attached to the abbey, or the people who resided and worked within its walls. She hoped that she, Vic, and Ro would be returning to their London home, where they could pick up their lives as best they could.

Though what kind of life that would be, she didn’t know.

Andrew cleared his throat. “I was wondering if you would like a tour of Buxton on your next afternoon off? If our afternoons fall on the same day, that is.”

She glanced at him, torn. She didn’t want to risk growing close to Andrew, but, for now, she couldn’t deny how much she truly longed for a friend. Then Lord Billingsly popped into her mind. She immediately shook the image of his dark eyes out of her head. He would never, could never, be her friend. Such a friendship would bring only pain to his family. If nothing else, her time at Summerset had taught her that. Amazing, really, that she’d lived all of her life without really knowing what it meant to be the daughter of a maid. Now she had to come to terms with being the illegitimate daughter of a maid. “I would like that very much,” she said. “And you don’t have to worry about the afternoons off. I can take an afternoon off whenever I want to, so just tell me when yours is.”

“You can do that? That must be nice, not having to beg Mrs. Harper for it. How about next Thursday, then? The holidays start the week after that and Summerset will be overflowing with visitors. We’ll both be busy.”

She smiled at him as they pulled up to the servants’ entrance. “That sounds grand.”

And it did. Spending an afternoon with a young man sounded like a treat compared to being cooped up in the kitchen or lying on her bed, reading.

Or thinking about where her mother’s lies began or ended.

*   *   *

Rowena snatched the message out of Prudence’s hands with barely a thank-you. The last few days she had become obsessed with her behavior at the hospital. Whatever had possessed her to act as if Jon and Mr. Dirkes were beneath her? She sounded as snobbish as her aunt or any of the other horrid dowagers who possessively guarded their status. She kept thinking about the look in Mr. Dirkes’s eyes.

What would her father think about her behavior?

She waited until Prudence had left the room before opening the envelope.

Dear Miss Buxton,

You have nothing to apologize for. My own behavior left
something to be desired and I am sure I deserved much worse than the dressing-down you gave me. Douglas also gave me quite the tongue lashing and I have come to realize that I must make it up to you. I will be leaving the hospital to-day and would be honored if you could meet me in the dining room for tea tomorrow afternoon at the Freemont Inn, followed up by a short outing with me and Mr. Dirkes. We would be properly chaperoned, so no need to concern yourself about that. No need to reply. If you don’t show up, I will understand.

Sincerely,