Page 39 of A Dark and Stormy Knight
Whereas Felicity’s notions were a bit less weighty and more idealistic, their mode of transport a hot-air balloon drifting upon the whims of a strong wind.
Either way, they were each darling girls dressed in gem-bright silks and forever the fair counterparts to Prudence and Honoria’s dark looks and darker deeds.
Before she could reply, footsteps clomped down the hall before the parlor door burst open containing the storm cloud that was her father. The dark blue eyes they’d all inherited from him glinted with displeasure from his mottled features.
“We’re going,” he stated shortly.
They all stood.
“Is everything all right?” her mother queried anxiously.
The Baron pinned Prudence with a scathing look as he announced through his teeth, “Everything is settled.”
Morley stood in the door looking both resolute and enigmatic. He watched the tableau with a vague disinterest. Removed from it all.
Remote.
Would she ever be able to reach him?
Felicity and Mercy embraced, kissed, and congratulated Pru, each wearing identical looks of pity and concern.
“We’ve left a trunk of your things for you from your wedding trousseau,” Felicity said. “Come around for the rest when you can.”
Her mother curtsied to Morley and her father shook his hand, each of them maintaining the barest façade of civility.
Her husband’s manners remained impeccable and his expression impenetrable. His spine straight and tall as he looked each of them right in the eye.
They left with barely a word for Prudence.
She swallowed as a lump of hurt lodged above that of the ever-present dread aching in her throat.
Would it ever be comfortable to breathe again?
Morley stood between her and the door, his wide back expanding with deep breaths, as if he were bracing himself for something unpleasant.
Like turning to inspect his unwanted wife.
The short-cropped hair at his nape did little to hide a red flush on his neck and a trickle of sweat that ran into the collar of his evening suit. It was the only indication that he even suffered an emotion or two.
When she could no longer stand it, Pru asked, “What happened between you and Father? How on earth did you get him to agree—?”
He finally turned, and it was all she could do not to take a step back, so abrupt was the movement. Military in its precision.
“You don’t have to worry about that.”
“This is my future, of course I must worry about it.”
Rather than look at her, his stare remained fixed on a distant point down the hall. “It’s settled to both of our satisfactions…or neither. Now, follow me,” he said as he swept past her.
What about her satisfaction?she wanted to ask.Didn’t that matter at all anymore?
The old Pru would have said something. But fear lurked in the Prudence who’d spent the night in a jail cell. One that feared that if she displeased this new husband of hers, he’d toss her right back in the cuffs.
She trailed him as he led her through a long hall with stunning antique scroll paneling but devoid of portraiture or art.
“I’m glad you both agreed, I’m just bewildered is all,” she rambled. “My father is a stubborn man…not easily convinced of anything. And the very fact that he suffered through dinner without making a scene is nothing less than miraculous.”
“Suffered?” Morley’s disdainful sniff echoed in the empty hall. “I’m certain it causes him no end of suffering that his newest son-in-law is beneath him socially. Sitting at my lowly table must have been a torment for you all. I commend you for containing your disappointment.”
