Page 40 of Her Cursed Duke
Prudence went for the easiest answer. “It was hot, so I went for a swim.”
Chapter Fifteen
Prudence had done her very best to get out of her damp clothes and make herself look presentable before her appearance would attract more attention—or worse, questions she could not answer.
It seemed her luck ran out at some point because just as she was trying to do something with her hair, her sister knocked on her door.
“Prudence? Are you all right? I heard Grandmother mention that she had sent you off on an errand earlier, and in her words, you returned looking like a drowned rat.”
With a tired sigh, Prudence gave up and opened the door for Agnes. “I am quite fine, thank you. I told her that I merely went for a swim, that’s all. It might have been a little… impulsive and careless of me, but it was really hot outside, and I thought a quick dip wouldn’t hurt.”
“So, you swam? In your clothes? Dear sister, you aren’t really one to give in to your impulses like that.” Agnes frowned.
Prudence thought about how, moments earlier, she had sat in Aiden’s lap and begged him to touch her, her mind clouded by desire, making her throw caution to the wind.
“People change,” she muttered, a little petulant. “Nothing like the vibrant and blazing summer heat to make a person reconsider their life choices.”
“I see,” Agnes said, her tone suggesting that she, in fact, did not.
Prudence fought the heat blossoming across her cheeks and cleared her throat awkwardly.
Agnes smiled at her and urged her to sit at her vanity, her expert fingers coming up to fuss with her hair. “I’m glad you decided to give in to your desires at that moment,” she commented, causing Prudence to freeze in shock. “I meant to say that when we deny ourselves simple pleasures such as swimming on a hot day, regardless of the place and time, it becomes increasingly difficult to make more contemplative decisions in the future. If you don’t learn to do what you want, as small and insignificant as that might be—even if some might call it unnecessary or improper—you might not be able to reach for what you truly want later on.”
“O-Oh,” Prudence stuttered, willing herself to relax and stop thinking about Aiden, his hands, his mouth, “I-I see!”
Agnes frowned at Prudence’s reflection in the mirror. “Are you sure you’re all right, Prudence? You seem really jittery—”
“I’m fine, really. I just… I feel bad. For closing myself up in here today. I must have worried you. I’m sorry, I needed some time to collect my thoughts after recalling a rather sad memory,” Prudence said, thankful she could at least tell the truth in this regard.
“Oh dear, I’m sorry. Would you like to talk about it? One of the reasons I sought you out was to see if you would be willing to join me for tea so we could talk, and I could hopefully cheer you up if you wanted me to.”
Prudence nodded with a little smile. “That sounds lovely. Although I am no longer upset, it would still be nice to sit and converse with you for a bit. It feels as though we have not done so in a little while, even though we see each other every day.”
Agnes grinned. “Perfect. And just about time, too. I’m done with your hair.”
She waved her hand over her neat work, and Prudence marveled at the fact that her sister had gently brushed the damp strands and held them back into a single braid with a silk ribbon tied at the ends.
The act wasn’t a special one, but it served as a reminder of how Agnes always ensured her sisters were well taken care of. She had always gone above and beyond for them, and after they were separated, Prudence had resolved to stand on her own feet,to become independent and rely on herself, while searching for some way to repay her elder sister for everything she had done since they were but young girls.
But it seemed as though she had forgotten about all of that, somehow, because here she was, still causing Agnes headaches and heartaches. Prudence still felt a little lost about who she was, and it simply would not do. She had to find her place somehow, had to determine what it was she truly wished for, what she wanted to make of herself.
“Thank you.” Prudence exhaled, unable to take her eyes off her reflection in the mirror, noting how she slightly paled in comparison to her sister.
“You are always welcome,” Agnes whispered, pressing a kiss to her sister’s cheek. “Seeing as you now look more like a person, we can go have our tea.”
Prudence rolled her eyes with a little laugh and then followed her sister downstairs.
A table had been set up for them in the garden, placed in a shady, breezy spot that gave them a wonderful view of the stunning greenery that seemed to stretch on and on.
Agnes waited until they had nibbled on some cookies and sipped some of the wonderful tea that contained a dash of jasmine—no doubt brewed with a handful of the flowers Prudence had picked earlier—before she asked, “What ails you, Sister? You do not have to tell me if you do not wish to. I do not want you to feelpressured or hounded about matters that concern you. I merely want to help you if you need it. You are a grown woman, and if you decide to handle your business by yourself—”
It seemed as though she had been doing her best to refrain from making a fuss, and Prudence felt guilty for making her worry like this.
“That is not—I was not trying to denounce you, Agnes. I know you love me very much, and you will always be looking out for me, as you always have. But I really am fine. Last night… I found myself caught in an embarrassing situation. I tripped, fell over, and felt ashamed. That memory kept me in a foul mood for longer than I thought it would. I am very sorry for worrying you.”
There were enough half-truths in Prudence’s excuse to ease the knot of guilt that had settled in her stomach since Agnes had approached her.
Agnes narrowed her eyes at her. “You… fell? As in, over? To the ground?”
