Taming The Bride (Brides of Mayfair 2) (25 page)

Prudence looked upon Alfred’s great-aunt with admiration. “You are very wise, Lady Weston.”

“I ought to be, after all this time,” she replied.

Prudence couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I only hope you, too, will be wise, Miss Atwater,” Lady Weston continued, “and that when you reach my age, you will have no regrets about the choices you have made.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it.

“You know very well what I mean,” Lady Weston said, seriously. “I am referring to my great-nephew, Alfred. He told me he proposed to you, and you refused him. That in itself is not so unusual the first time ’round—it is sometimes best to make a man wait for your hand in marriage. But from what he described, you have refused outright because you are
fearful
…and I had you pegged for a braver girl than that.”

Prudence met her benefactress’s accusing gaze. “You don’t understand, Lady Weston. For me, marriage is quite impossible—with any man.”

“My grand-nephew is not just ‘any man,’ as you put it,” Lady Weston said. “Alfred is the
best
of men, Miss Atwater. He is like a son to me, and I am both proud and lucky to say so. My late husband Bertram and I were not blessed with children, but Alfred and his brother, Richard, became our own as we raised them in their parents’ stead. And that was no easy task, I assure you. I remember the boys’ hijinks—there were days I wanted to raise the white flag in surrender and give up. But more than that, I remember the laughter and joy they brought us through the years. I love them both, of course, but as you know, Alfred has always been devoted to me. As the younger son of an earl, he will get nothing of his father’s estate, so my late husband named Alfred heir to the Weston barony by special remainder. It is through him that the Weston family name will carry on, and I long to see him settled with a wife and child before I die.”

“You aren’t going to die—” Prudence began.

“Yes, I am,” Lady Weston replied, calmly. “If not today, perhaps tomorrow…or next week, or even a year hence. But be assured, I will die, Miss Atwater. On that, you may absolutely count. But before I do, it is my greatest wish to see him take a bride.
You
, my dear.”

Prudence shook her head. “I told you, my lady, I cannot marry any man—least of all Alfred.”

“Why?” Lady Weston asked. “Because your mother came from the streets?”

Swallowing uncomfortably, Prudence answered, “I wasn’t sure you knew about that. And I dare say, Lord Weston should have kept that business to himself.”

“That is not our way,” Lady Weston replied. “Alfred and I are very honest with one another. I wish you would learn to be the same.”

Prudence was shocked to hear such bald criticism. “Forgive me, Lady Weston, but are you suggesting that I am in the habit of lying?”

“Not to anyone but yourself,” she answered, sagely.

“But—” Prudence began to argue, then found herself unable to form an intelligent response.

“You see?” Lady Weston said. “I speak the truth, my dear. The only person you are being dishonest with is yourself. And that is the last person you should attempt to deceive. If you do, you’ll find yourself trapped in a life you were never meant to live, and you may only realize that when it’s too late. Look at me, Prudence, I am eighty-seven years old. I had a great love—my darling Bertram—and was lucky enough to become his wife. We journeyed through life together, living each day as an incredible adventure, until his death. But in order to do that, we each had to give up something of ourselves, to
give
a piece of ourselves to the other. That is how two people create a true union. And that is what I think you are afraid to do. Alfred said you are afraid to give up your freedom, afraid of losing control of the school. However, I believe that what you truly fear is
yourself—
the new person you’ll become if you are brave enough to share your heart and soul in a marriage.”

Prudence swallowed uncomfortably. There was a pain in her chest that she tried desperately to ignore, but it didn’t go away. She didn’t want to hear this from Lady Weston—she didn’t want to hear it from anybody. Yet here she sat, unable to leave the great lady’s side.

“Make no mistake, Prudence,” Lady Weston continued, “marriage is a daunting thing. For either sex, marriage to someone unsuitable can be a torture all its own. But when two people are well-matched, when they complement each other, challenge each other, and comfort each other, marriage is an adventure like no other on earth. I would hate to see you count yourself out of such fun because you are afraid of what people will say about your origins.”

“I’m not afraid of what people will say,” Prudence explained, “I’m afraid of what
I’ll
say when they make insulting comments about my mother. I told Alfred, I won’t lie about her.”

“He never asked you to,” Lady Weston pointed out.

Prudence took a breath in order to keep going with her argument, then stopped and said, “What?”

“I said, Alfred never asked you to lie,” Lady Weston said. “Nor have I.”

“But as I explained to Alfred,” she said, “as his wife, I would be expected to attend balls and soiree’s and other society functions with him. And when his aristocratic friends asked about my parents, I couldn’t lie about them. When I met you, Lady Weston, I told you only that my parents were dead. You made no further inquiries about my mother’s family, so I offered no more information. But someone will ask the question someday. And I will have to answer them truthfully. Do you really want the
ton
to look at Alfred and I, and even you—with ridicule?”

Lady Weston huffed, saying, “They don’t scare me. And they shouldn’t scare you, either.”

“You’re saying that if I was Alfred’s wife and someone gave me the cut direct, you’d stand by me?” Prudence asked.

“Not only would I stand by you,” Lady Weston replied, “I’d launch a few stinging volleys myself!”

Prudence was at a loss for words.

Lady Weston patted Prudence’s hand, looking worn out. “You think about what I’ve said. I am quite tired just now. I must rest.”

“Of course, Lady Weston,” Prudence replied, feeling terrible for bothering the frail woman with her problems. “Can I bring you anything…? Lady Weston?”

But she was already asleep.

Prudence quietly exited Lady Weston’s bed chamber and headed downstairs. She herself was in need of a cup of tea. After the intense conversation with her benefactress, she needed to take some time and think about things.

Things like Alfred…and his proposal of marriage…and whether or not it could ever work between them.

Just picturing his darkly handsome face sent butterflies to Prudence’s stomach. She hadn’t seen him this morning. He had departed the house early with Lady Harrington, and they would be gone for most of the day.

Was Lady Weston right? Was Prudence truly more afraid of herself and the uncharted territory of marriage than anything else?

She sighed as she walked into the salon, finding Dolly at work mending one of the girls’ frocks. A tea service sat on an end table. Prudence poured herself a cup of fragrant tea and plunked herself down on the sofa.

“Goodness sakes, you sound like an elephant stomping about,” Dolly said, glancing up from her work. “Is everything alright?”

“As alright as it can be, I suppose,” Prudence answered, then she frowned. “No…actually, Dolly, things are not alright. Why does everyone say that when it is hardly ever true?”

Dolly looked uncomfortable. “Is it because of Mungo an’ me gettin’ married, Miss?”

“Oh dear, no,” Prudence said, springing up and giving her friend a quick hug. “That’s why people say things are alright when they aren’t—they don’t want to upset anyone unnecessarily. I am happy for you both, Dolly, more than you could ever know. As I told Mungo, I hope you’ll stay on with me at the school, wherever that will be. We need to find a new location. We can’t stay here in Lord Weston’s townhouse forever.”

“I’m glad you’re not angry with us,” Dolly said. “But, ye’d want us to stay even if we ’ave another mouth to feed?”

“Especially then,” Prudence replied. “I consider you and Mungo my family, Dolly.”

“An’ we feel the same,” she said, beaming. “Look at what Mungo gave me.” Dolly held out her hand, showing off her third finger.

Prudence gazed at a beautiful gold ring with a dazzling oval emerald in the center.

“What an unusual ring,” Prudence remarked. “It’s very beautiful.”

Dolly grinned, saying, “I can’t believe such a lovely thing is mine. Said ’e found it on an island very far away from here…a place called Monkey Island. Doesn’t that sound exciting? And ’e’s been waitin’ to give it to the woman he wants to marry. And now, that’s me.”

Prudence studied the ring again. “Look at these markings on the sides, etched into the gold,” she said. “How very intriguing. It looks like some sort of ancient language.”

“I wonder if it once belonged to a king or queen of some old civilization?” Dolly asked, wide-eyed.

“Given Mungo’s history, I’d say you might be right,” Prudence remarked. “At the very least it looks to be quite valuable. Take good care of it, Dolly.”

“Oh, I will, Miss—ye can be sure of that,” she said proudly. “’Ow is Lady Weston gettin’ on? Has she improved any?”

Prudence took her seat as Dolly went back to her sewing. “She seems to have moments of normalcy followed by sudden weakness, and she tires easily. As you know, her appetite is quite diminished. She will take the tonic Dr. Trask prescribed, but doesn’t want much else besides tea. I hope and pray that she will yet regain her strength. Lord Weston would be devastated if she were to die. And truthfully, so would I.”

“So would we all, miss,” Dolly said. “She is a great lady, indeed. Is there anythin’ else troublin’ ye? Anything’ at all ye want to talk about?”

Prudence forced herself to smile. “No, Dolly. Nothing that I can’t handle myself. But I thank you for your concern. We shall get through this. After all, there is a wedding to plan.”

Prudence raised her teacup, and thought she heard Dolly say, “
Perhaps there will be two
.”

Choking on her tea, Prudence said, “Pardon me?”

“I said, ‘there’s something in my shoe,’” Dolly replied, wriggling her foot about.

Finishing her tea, Prudence stood and said, “Yes, well, I must go and work on my lesson plan for tomorrow. If you need me, I shall be in the library.”

Prudence left the salon and headed to Alfred’s library, but was intercepted by Crawford carrying a small silver tray in the hallway.

“This came for you, Miss Atwater,” the butler said, lowering the tray.

Prudence took the envelope and thanked him. She opened it and read the message written on the paper inside:

Miss Atwater,

Please attend me forthwith. I must speak to you

regarding the recent attacks against the Atwater School.

I have information which we must discuss.

However, tell no one of our meeting.

My carriage awaits outside.

—The Earl of Harrington

She replaced the note in the envelope and went to fetch her cloak. Though the message had warned against it, she said to Crawford, “I must go out to meet an old friend. I shan’t be too long.”

“Of course, Miss,” he replied with a bow. “Will you be back in time for dinner?”

“Oh yes,” Prudence answered. “I can’t see being later than that. Good day, Crawford.”

“Good day, Miss Atwater,” he said as she departed.

Prudence descended the stone steps of the townhouse and scanned the street for the earl’s carriage. She saw one parked on the street a few houses down and approached it. As she neared, she noticed it didn’t bear Lord Harrington’s coat of arms, and meant to pass it by. But the door swung open, and she saw Alfred’s father beckoning her inside.

“Hurry, Miss Atwater,” he said, reaching out a hand. “And do try to keep your head down. I may have been followed here.”

Prudence did as the earl bid her, climbing into the carriage and sitting on the plush seat opposite him.

“Your note sounded urgent, my lord,” she said.

“It is,” he answered. “I have come by some information regarding these threats against you and your school, Miss Atwater. Given the strained relationship I have with my son, I thought it best to bring it to you directly.”

“You have made the right decision, Lord Harrington,” she replied. “Though I am grateful to Lord Weston for all of his help, this is not his problem to solve. I alone am responsible for the Atwater School and I will deal with these threats myself. What information have you discovered?”

He rapped the tip of his walking stick on the roof and the carriage pulled away. “It’s safer if we are on the move. That way no one can listen in on our conversation, as they might if we were sitting in a coffee house.” Glancing out the window he said, “This is a dangerous business, Miss Atwater. I only hope we can stop this madness before anyone gets hurt. You and your students were lucky to escape the fire…but you might not be so fortunate next time. And though my son and I have a strained relationship, I know that he holds you in high regard. Which is why I must do what I can.”