Page 38 of Indecent
Lights danced in her eyes, and he prayed he’d have occasion to see them again some time.
He held out his arm, and they left the room.
An hour later, he stood in the yard watching as the neighbor’s cart left. Prudence sat beside the man wrapped in her—rather Lady Cassandra’s—purple cloak.
Bennet had decided not to leave with her. She should arrive in London without him. If even one person saw them together, all their planning would be for naught. Furthermore, Logan had found a coach nearby that could be had for a reasonable price. Perhaps not too much more than the ring in Bennet’s pocket.
He pulled it out. The gold glinted in the morning sunlight. He slipped it onto his left pinky where it fit perfectly, as if that was where it belonged.
She looked back over her shoulder, and he lifted his hand in farewell.
While riding in a cart made for a rather sore posterior, Prudence was glad to be back in London. The equipage looked odd in Mayfair, so she made haste with her departure, thanking Mr. Logan’s neighbor before toting her bag down the stairs to the employees’ entrance of the Phoenix Club. She couldn’t very well march into one of the front doors since she wasn’t a member. She’d entered this way on many occasions—to meet with Lucien when he’d first offered to help her and to see her dearest friend, Ada Treadway, who managed the club’s accounting ledgers.
It was far more than that, really. Ada made sure there was ale, brandy, and port on the men’s side of the club and madeira, sherry, and sack on the ladies’. That was just a fraction of what she oversaw along with Evangeline Renshaw, one of the ladies’ patronesses who also served as manager of the club.
Going directly to the back stairs, Prudence climbed to the second floor, where Ada’s office was located. At this time of day, early afternoon, Ada would almost certainly be at her desk perusing ledgers and drinking tea.
The door was slightly ajar, but Prudence knocked nonetheless.
“Come.” Ada didn’t look up, her dark head bent over her desk.
“I suppose it’s too much to hope I wasn’t missed.” Prudence stepped inside, set her case down, and closed the door.
Ada’s head jerked up, her blue-gray eyes widening in shock. “Pru! Where on earth have you been?” She leapt from the chair and threw her arms around Prudence, squeezing her tightly.
Prudence smiled and hugged her back. “It’s quite a tale. Did you miss me?”
“Of course I did.” Ada pulled back, her brows pitching into a V as she scowled. “What an absurd question.”
“That was ungenerous of me. I knew you would miss me. However, Cassandra would not have.”
“It seems not.” Ada crossed her arms over her chest. “Because you left a note that you eloped.”
“You learned that much? Good.” Prudence went to sit in a chair, grateful for its cushion on her backside.
“Evie found out from Lucien.” Ada returned to her chair, turning it to face Prudence before she sat.
It made sense that Cassandra’s brother would know what happened and that he would share that information with his Evie, his closest friend and partner at the club.
“Well, it wasn’t true.” Prudence didn’t hesitate to tell the truth to Ada—and only to Ada. She was the one person she could wholly trust. They came from similar backgrounds and had suffered similar…setbacks that had forced them to change employment and find a new way forward.
Ada sniffed. “I knew it. I didn’t say so, of course. Evie didn’t believe it either, but she also kept her mouth shut.”
Prudence tried not to smile and failed. “And what did the two of you surmise actually happened?”
“That you knew you were soon to be out of a job since Lady Cassandra is now married—”
“Is she?” Prudence interrupted. “I’m quite happy for her, of course, but I’m sorry I missed it.”
“They wed by special license on Saturday.”
Prudence grimaced. “You were probably quite upset with me on Saturday.” They met every Saturday morning to share breakfast and visit. Sometimes they took a walk. Occasionally, they shopped. Most often, they sat in Ada’s small, smart apartment of rooms on the uppermost floor of the club just above them. Even though Prudence would have been at Cassandra’s wedding, she would have sent word to Ada to that effect. Instead, Ada hadn’t heard a word from her.
“Yes, but also worried. The Prudence I know would never elope with anyone. So you must have had a good reason to lie.”
Prudence had thought about what she would say to Ada almost the entire way from Riverview. She’d planned to keep everything from her, to protect Bennet as she’d told him she would do. But now that she faced her closest ally, saw the certainty in Ada’s eyes that Prudencehadlied about eloping, her careful plan disintegrated. And it wasn’t as if Ada would tell anyone. She’d hold Prudence’s secrets as close as Prudence would herself. “I didn’t write the note.”
Ada slumped in the chair, her shoulders sagging. “I should have realized. I should have insisted they send Bow Street to find you.”
