Page 61 of Indecent
Ada’s brows arched briefly. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” Prudence clasped her hands together and squeezed them tightly. “The baby—if there even is one—complicates things. I wish I’d never given the ring to Bennet.” That wasn’t precisely true. “I wish he hadn’t worn it.”
“I think it’s rather sweet that he did,” Ada said. “He sounds as though he cares about you a great deal. Even if you refuse to acknowledge it,” she added.
“We share a bond…or something.” Prudence’s voice trailed off. She hadn’t thought about it too much—the reasons behind her inability to forget him or her yearning to see him despite deciding she had to move on. It wasn’t as if they had a future together. Except now there was probably a child. While she’d never entertained thoughts of motherhood or marriage, she now found herself suddenly contemplating both. And she wasn’t opposed to either. Indeed, the thought of having her own family was shockingly appealing.
Ada folded her hands in her lap and squared her shoulders. “You came to me for advice, yes?”
“Yes.” Prudence was desperate for help.
“You must tell Glastonbury about the baby, or at least the strong possibility that there is one.”
Prudence was still resistant, even if the idea of a family now seemed possible. Bennet’s situation hadn’t changed just because she was perhaps with child. “He can’t marry me.”
“He’ll find a way, or he’s an absolute cad. Is he a cad?”
“No.” Prudence didn’t want to put him in an impossible situation. “There might be a way, but it depends on things that are out of my control.” Would he even want to marry her if his situation changed?
Ada pitched forward, her pale eyes alight with interest. “What’s your idea?”
“I can take the ring and confront Lady Peterborough. She’s wealthy, or her husband is anyway. I’ll ask her for money that I can use as a dowry.” Prudence had no idea if it would be enough to satisfy Bennet’s needs, but it was the only thing she could think of to at least try to put him in a position where he could wed her—if he wanted to.
“With a dowry, you go to Glastonbury with something to offer beyond yourself, something he needs.” Ada cocked her head. “That sounds reasonable and rather businesslike. I daresay that’s how the best agreements are made, even marriages.” She frowned. “However, there is no emotion to it, no mention of love. Which shouldn’t surprise me because you’re you, and you findfeelingsunnecessary.” Ada rolled her eyes. “Perhaps he’d want to marry you because he loves you.”
Prudence gritted her teeth. Ada possessed more romantic notion in her little finger than Prudence did in her entire body. “He doesn’t have the luxury of marrying for love. We didn’t plan for this baby—we tried to avoid it.” Prudence hadn’t planned for any of this—for Bennet’s hirelings to abduct her, to be trapped with Bennet for days, to end up wanting Bennet like she’d never wanted anyone.
Ada was silent a moment. “If you decide to find a home for the baby, you can ask Lady Peterborough about how she did that for you. If you decide to confront her, that is.”
It seemed Prudence must see her. She needed the woman’s help, either with money or advice. She thought of the innocent life inside her whose family boasted viscounts and earls and dukes. He or she would be raised without any of those benefits, just as Prudence had been. It would be fine, except if they were orphaned and alone in the world, also as Prudence had been.
There was so much to consider. Prudence could barely think straight. Her mind was still awash in anxiety and trepidation.
“There is an alternative to seeing Lady Peterborough,” Ada said, her features tensing. “You could ask your half brother for money.”
“Absolutely not.” That much Prudence was certain of. “I’ll speak with Lady Peterborough. Today, in fact.” Before she lost her nerve. She ought to see Bennet too—he’d asked her to meet him in the park that afternoon. But she couldn’t tell him about the baby in the park, and she still didn’t know what to do about the ring. Hopefully, after she saw Lady Peterborough, she would.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Ada offered.
“No, but thank you. I do appreciate your counsel and support. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Ada’s smile widened. “We may have had some misfortunes, but we were lucky enough to find each other. I’d say we have more than most.”
They did indeed. “I think I’d like some tea before I go. If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. Let’s go down to the kitchen.” Ada stood and, when Prudence got to her feet, embraced her in a tight hug. “We’ll get you, and the babe, if there is one, through this. There will be happier days ahead. You’ll see.”
Prudence hoped so, because right now, she couldn’t see past the current disaster.
In his eagerness to see Prudence, Bennet arrived at the park before five. She was nowhere to be seen, but he hoped she would come. There was plenty of time. Almost right away, he caught sight of Mrs. Merryfield. Tall, with dark hair covered with a plain chestnut-colored hat, she strode toward him, a younger woman—perhaps her maid—trailing just behind her.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Merryfield.” He took her hand and gave her an elegant bow.
“Good afternoon, Lord Glastonbury. What a lovely day for a promenade.”
Bennet had no choice but to offer her his arm. They walked along the path as the park began to fill with Society. “I enjoyed our dance at the Phoenix Club the other evening.”
“As did I,” Bennet said. “You are a unique and independent woman.” Her ownership of the bank set her apart from her sex. Many found her intimidating or didn’t think she should own a bank. Bennet suspected that was why she’d been invited to join the Phoenix Club. She was precisely the sort of person the club seemed to welcome, those who were excluded or whom Society denigrated in some way.
