Page 60 of Indecent
It seemed Prudence really was increasing. She stared straight ahead, seeing nothing but a gray emptiness. “This can’t be happening. I can’t bear a child who would be known as a bastard.”
Ada gently covered Prudence’s hands, which were resting in her lap, with her own. “I know exactly how you feel. When I was with child, I was terribly afraid—not necessarily for me as much as for the baby and the stigma with which he or she would have been born. As horrible as it was to lose it, I was so grateful.” She took a ragged breath, turning her head from Prudence. “And don’t think that doesn’t make me feel awful.”
The last words were so soft that Prudence had to strain to hear them. She blinked, then focused on Ada. “I’m so sorry to bother you with this, to bring up the past that you never wanted to remember. I couldn’t think of what else to do, whom else to talk to.”
“You were right to ask me. Of course I can help. Iwillhelp. We’ll find a way through this.” Ada hesitated, her expression guarded. “You don’t need to have the baby. There are measures you can take…” Her voice was a low rasp.
Prudence was only vaguely aware of such things. “I’m not even certain there is a baby.”
“When you are, there are options. If you want them,” Ada said quietly. “Have you considered finding a home for it as your parents—your real parents—did for you? From everything you’ve told me, it wasn’t a bad life.”
Prudence could barely consider the possibility of a child, let alone what she would do. Except the idea of a son or a daughter wound its way through her and made her feel something she hadn’t in a very long time—connected to someone. Even if the child was illegitimate, it would behers.
“I think I might want to be a mother,” Prudence whispered, almost afraid to admit it aloud.
Ada gave Prudence’s hands a squeeze before letting her go and settling back in the chair. “I presume you haven’t told Glastonbury yet, since you didn’t even suspect until today.”
“No, I haven’t. What is he supposed to do, marry me?” Prudence let out a humorless laugh. “Even if he wasn’t in desperate need of an heiress to solve his financial problems, a viscount could never be expected to marryme. And since he lacks funds to support his own family, I can’t expect him to give me an allowance or support me and his child.”
“You can and you should,” Ada argued, her cheeks flushing. “This is just as much his problem as it is yours. He knew what he was doing when he took you to bed.”
“I asked him to,” Prudence said with a shuddering breath. “He took precautions. It’s an unplanned happenstance.” She recalled what he’d said about being unlucky and could only imagine what his reaction would be.
“You still have to tell him. He deserves the opportunity to care for you and the babe, even if you think he can’t or won’t. Don’t be shortsighted, Prudence.”
Prudence looked down at her lap and plucked at her dress. “There’s more.” She glanced toward Ada. “I’ve found out who my mother is—probably.”
Ada’s eyes widened. “How?”
“I gave my ring to Bennet—Glastonbury. I wanted him to sell it since he is so in need of funds. Mostly, I didn’t want to look backward anymore. The time I spent with him opened my eyes to the future, to possibilities I hadn’t ever imagined.”
“Did you fall in love with him?” Ada asked softly.
“I don’t know. I certainly didn’t encourage such emotion.” But she was more emotional since then—which she would attribute to the baby growing inside her. A fresh wave of fear and anxiety washed up her throat. She struggled to swallow.
Ada watched her intently. “I take it he sold it, and somehow it found its way back to your mother?”
“No, he couldn’t bring himself to sell it.” Prudence ignored the flash of surprise in Ada’s eyes. “He wore it. Lucien saw it and recognized it.” Ada sucked in a breath, but Prudence pushed on. “He said it belonged to his grandmother, that it bears an old family crest, and that it should be returned to his aunt—Lady Peterborough.”
“You think she’s your mother?” Ada breathed, her eyes wide.
“It’s possible. If the ring is passed from mother to daughter—from Lucien’s grandmother to his aunt, it makes sense that it would go to Lady Peterborough’s daughter. Except, she has two sons and no daughter.”
“Unless you’re her daughter, and that’s how the ring came to be in your possession.”
Prudence wiped her hand over her brow, feeling warm and uneasy. “That seems possible.”
“You have to find out for certain. Don’t you?”
“I want to,” Prudence whispered. “But I’m afraid. What if she never wanted me to find her?”
“Then she should have kept the ring,” Ada said crossly. “I think it’s more likely that she hoped you would find her—somehow. And now you have. Probably. Where is the ring now?”
“I have it,” Prudence said. “Bennet returned it to me, but Lucien says it belongs with his family. He’s offered to purchase the ring from Bennet—he’ll make an investment on Bennet’s behalf. It would have helped Bennet a great deal.”
“Yet he returned the ring to you.” A quick smile flitted across Ada’s lips. “That says something, don’t you think?”
“He says he feels responsible and terrible for my abduction and disappearance for nearly a week. It makes perfect sense to me that he wouldn’t want to take my ring in the first place—which he didn’t—and would return it when it seemed the right thing to do. I refuse to read anything else into it.”
