Page 23 of Her Cursed Duke
Prudence looked down at her work and pulled a tight final stitch before snapping off the thread and handing her frame to Aiden’s godmother.
The Dowager Marchioness accepted it with a little fond smile, losing it almost immediately when she looked down to examine Prudence’s work. “This is… this is truly lovely. Prudence, how—what—”
“It is a petunia. I read in a book once that it symbolizes hope, healing, and well-being for a long time. And I thought it would make a nice gift to carry along,” Prudence explained with a smile.
The purple threads she had chosen stood out against the soft fabric, etching the beautiful flower onto the white silk in a way that only claimed a corner of the handkerchief but still somehow made the whole accessory shine.
Beatrice was clearly impressed if her bright grin was anything to go by. Then, her expression turned cheeky, and she questioned, “A gift? That is really thoughtful of you. Who might the fortunate recipient be?”
Before Prudence could even speak, all eyes turned to Aiden, who stared back at them blankly, almost as if he was urging them to pick a fight with him. Prudence stifled the urge to laugh at his stiff demeanor and freed the handkerchief from the frame, folding it neatly as she stood up.
She walked over to where Aiden was seated and held it out to him with both hands and a shy smile. “For you. I hope it brings you comfort whenever things get difficult or tricky.”
He stared up at her momentarily, then dropped his gaze to the object in her hands, suddenly finding it difficult to speak. He collected it wordlessly, unable to keep himself from running his thumb over the vibrant flower etched on the fabric. The meaning alone caused some discomfort in his chest, and now that it was in his hand, it felt heavier than a simple piece of silk, for some reason.
“It was quite thoughtful of you to keep him in mind as you worked on your piece, wasn’t it, dear?” Beatrice questioned from where she sat, her eyes twinkling with joy.
With a quiet sigh at the ridiculousness of the whole situation, Aiden looked back up at Prudence, almost distracted by the flush on her cheeks and the twinkle in her hazel eyes.
He mustered a little smile and bowed his head. “It was. Thank you, Lady Prudence. It is beautiful, and I am honored to have been gifted something so precious.”
The corners of Prudence’s lips quirked slightly, and she curtsied. “The pleasure was all mine, Your Grace.”
She returned to her seat, and Beatrice hummed in thought. “We have spent a pleasant afternoon here, with refreshments and company, but I cannot help but feel saddened by the lack of entertainment.”
“For the love of God,” Aiden muttered to himself, disappointed by his godmother’s antics.
“Would you like me to play something?” Prudence offered, taking the bait.
“Could you, dear? That would be lovely,” the Dowager Marchioness replied with delight.
“Of course.” Prudence stood up again and turned to her sister. “Shall we play something together? For old time’s sake?”
Agnes did not hesitate to take her sister’s hand as she, too, rose to her feet, and together, they walked to a corner of the drawing room where a piano and a harp sat. The Dowager Marchioness expected both of them to sit on the piano bench, but only Agnes sat down on it.
Prudence sat down in a chair next to the harp. She inhaled and lifted her hands above the strings without touching them, waiting for Agnes’s cue.
“What shall we play?” Agnes asked, leaving the song choice up to her.
Prudence only had to ponder for a moment before she decided to choose something that meant a lot to both of them. “Father’s favorite,” was her reply.
They had played it enough times for Agnes to begin immediately, starting the song with light tunes that tickled the ears of those who heard them. Prudence followed shortly after, plucking at the strings of the harp gently to produce mellow, crystal-clearsounds that resonated lowly compared to the music from the piano.
There was a time when Prudence thought she might never be able to play the harp again, but Agnes was here with her, and soon, they would have Imogen. It had taken a while, but life was slowly returning to a place where she could find joy in her days again.
It is all right now. We are all right.
Someone began to clap, and it startled them both, as they remembered they had not been alone. They laughed lightly as their little audience continued to applaud them. The sisters rose from their seats and bowed, smiling at the others.
“That was truly splendid, ladies! It was such a beautiful song, indeed. Thank you for sharing it with us,” the Dowager Marchioness complimented tearfully, still clapping.
“The honor is ours,” Agnes said with a giggle, accepting the hug her husband offered.
Aiden stepped in front of Prudence, and with an awestruck expression remarked, “Aren’t you just full of surprises?”
Prudence shrugged, feeling proud as she coyly replied, “Only the best for you, Your Grace.”
Chapter Nine
