Page 89 of The Scoundrel and the Debutante
She loved Roan Matheson. The world had not miraculously slid back to the familiar as she’d assumed. The glow of him had not dimmed. She just felt his loss more sharply as time marched on.
A day before Merryton and Grace were to return to Blackwood Hall, Stanhope came round a third time to call on Prudence. When Finnegan told her he’d come, and that there was no one to intercept him, Prudence sighed, pushed her undressed hair over her shoulder, and walked to the drawing room in her bare feet to receive him.
He looked surprised by her appearance when he entered the room. “Good afternoon,” he said, taking in her dress and the hair that hung loosely down her back. “I heard the American had left. Now I see it is true.”
Prudence’s gaze was unwavering. She was numb to Stanhope now, and waited for him to say whatever he’d come to say.
“Have you thought about my offer?” he asked.
“Of course.”
“And?”
“And, I haven’t a choice, have I? I accept.”
His smile seemed almost sympathetic. “I realize it is difficult for you now, but I think you’ll come round to it.”
“No,” Prudence said calmly. “I will never come round to it, my lord. And that I never shall will be your cross to bear.”
He smiled indulgently, as if she were showing him a fit of temper. “I’m not unfeeling,” he said, moving closer to her. “I will give you time to grieve your lover.”
“How very kind of you.”
He reached for her hand. With his gaze on hers, he lifted it to his lips and kissed it softly. Then he leaned down and kissed her cheek, his lips lingering, warm and soft against her skin. Prudence shuddered with despair.
“I will be good to you, Prudence,” he said softly, his nose in her hair. “You will have all that you want. I will make you as happy as a wife can be made.”
Prudence laughed ruefully. “You won’t. Youcan’t.”
“You may be surprised.”
“I don’t love you. I willneverlove you.”
Stanhope’s smile faded and he eased back. “Fortunately for us both, love is not necessary for a match such as ours, is it?” He moved away from her. “I’ve called on Beckington. This afternoon I will call on Merryton to discuss the terms.” He started for the door, but paused there and glanced back. “I saw Mercy outside. She seems quite happy about her opportunity to attend Lisson Grove. I am happy for her.”
“Yes,” Prudence said serenely. “She is a very lucky girl.” With that, she turned her back to Stanhope.
She heard Stanhope leave. The windows were open to a fresh breeze and the sounds of people and animals moving about on the street drifted up to her, but seemed to move away from her at the same time. It seemed only minutes later that she heard a knock on a door, heard voices but thought it had perhaps been on the house next door.
Moments later, Honor appeared in the drawing room with Grace. “Prudence!” Honor said, hurrying to her. “Finnegan said Stanhope was here?”
“Yes.”
Honor looked at Grace. “And?”
“And, I accepted,” Prudence said dispassionately.
“Ohno,” Grace whispered, sinking down onto a chair. “My God, Pru...what are you doing? What of love?”
Prudence laughed bitterly at that and brushed Honor’s hand from her arm. “What of it? Many matches are made for less than love.”
“You’re not serious,” Honor said.
“I am quite serious. Why shouldn’t I accept it?” Prudence asked coldly. “It’s likely the only offer I will ever receive, and at least Stanhope knows the truth about me. What would you have me do? Mope about and mourn for a love that is an ocean away? Wander about Blackwood Hall, or your house, or Beckington House and wait for another offer to come? I must dosomethingwith my life. I can’t stand still! Do you know how hard it is to stand still?” she demanded shrilly.
“But you don’t love him!” Grace cried.
“Stop being so melodramatic,” Prudence said dismissively. “You didn’t love Merryton when you wed, and you love him now. Mamma married the earl and she grew to love him very much.”
