Chapter 14
Prudence regretted declining Ada’s offer to accompany her to Lady Peterborough’s house in Berkeley Square. The stone facade rose tall and imposing as she approached the door. She hesitated, nearly capitulating to overwhelming trepidation. Ultimately, she managed the courage to knock.
Almost immediately, a footman answered.
“Good afternoon, I’m here to see Lady Peterborough.
” Prudence handed the footman her card and was grateful that Cassandra had insisted on providing them as soon as Prudence had become her companion.
That the card misidentified her as companion to Lady Cassandra Westbrook—which wasn’t even Cassandra’s name anymore—was the least of Prudence’s concerns.
The footman perused the card, then invited her inside. “Follow me, Miss Lancaster.”
She trailed him to a sitting room decorated in muted yellows and browns. The color scheme reminded her of one of the final days of autumn when once-bright hues were tired and faded.
After the footman left, Prudence fidgeted with her gown, then chided herself for the bad habit.
A few minutes later, the countess glided in wearing her typical expression of bland cheerfulness. It was as if she tried to look happy, but everyone knew it was an act, including her.
“It’s just you?” Lady Peterborough asked, stopping a few feet from Prudence and clasping her hands in front of her with a patient if bemused expression. “I am surprised you would call on your own.” She seemed genuinely curious and not as though she was trying to insinuate Prudence shouldn’t call.
“This errand doesn’t involve anyone else.
” Prudence loathed confrontation, but this was important.
Her entire future depended on what happened in this interview.
She’d felt the same when she’d gone to see her half brother, only for everything to fall apart because she hadn’t been able to muster the boldness to say what she ought, that they were siblings and he should help her.
The words she’d prepared to say to the countess disappeared from Prudence’s mouth as if swept away on the wind.
Panic rose in her throat, and heat flushed up her neck.
Instead of speaking, she reached into her pocket and withdrew the ring.
She took a step closer to the countess and held out her hand. The gold flashed in her palm.
Lady Peterborough tipped her head down, her brow creasing. “What’s that?”
“A ring.” Prudence coughed to clear the clouds from her throat. “My mother gave it to me before she died.”
Tawny eyes met Prudence’s for a moment before the countess plucked the ring from Prudence’s hand. She stalked to the window where the late-afternoon sun streamed past the draperies and held up the ring.
Prudence held her breath.
Lady Peterborough spun around to face Prudence. “Your mother gave this to you?”
“The woman who raised me.” Prudence breathed before plunging forward, “I understand this ring belongs to your family, that it may even belong to you.”
Clutching the ring, the countess hurried to close the door to the sitting room. When she came back toward Prudence, her face was pale and her eyes dark with fear. “Please keep your voice down.” She barely spoke above a whisper. “My husband mustn’t hear this conversation.”
Prudence stared at her as words once again utterly failed her.
The countess stared at her in return. “The ring does belong to me—or it did. I gave it to the wet nurse who accompanied my daughter to her adoptive parents. I’m glad to see she passed it on as I instructed.
” She studied Prudence. “I never really looked at you closely before. You resemble him. Your father, I mean. Do you know who that is?”
Slowly, Prudence nodded. She felt as if she were in a dream.
“When my mother was dying, she told me that I’d been given to them to raise.
Whoever had delivered me to them had given her the ring and said it was from my mother—the woman who birthed me.
She also revealed my true father’s identity. You are my mother?”
“It seems so.” Lady Peterborough held up the ring between her thumb and forefinger.
She smiled, and Prudence swore it was the most genuine expression she’d ever seen on the woman.
“She was supposed to give this to you when you married. That’s when the firstborn daughter receives it.
” Her smile faded. “I’m sorry your mother didn’t live to see that.
I’m glad she gave it to you personally, though. ”
Prudence could scarcely believe she was looking at the woman who’d given birth to her. “Why did you give me away?” The question was soft but harsh sounding.
“Since you know who your father was, you also know he wasn’t my husband.
I’m afraid Lord Peterborough was furious that I’d allowed myself to get with child by another man.
Never mind the children he sired on his mistress.
” She sniffed, and Prudence felt a sudden urge to knock Lord Peterborough to the ground.
“It was the only way,” Lady Peterborough said.
“Pete wouldn’t claim you, and Walter’s wife didn’t want you either.
I’m sorry. He gave me no choice regarding you.
I had to give you away.” She reached for Prudence’s cheek but didn’t touch her before withdrawing her hand.
“It was so difficult, but I knew you would be well cared for, that the couple taking you wanted you very badly. That gave me solace. I’m glad you still have the ring.
You’ll give it to your daughter on her wedding day. ”
Prudence’s daughter. That she could very well be carrying right this instant.
Tears blurred Prudence’s vision, and she felt wobbly as she had earlier. “I need to sit.” She practically collapsed onto the nearby settee.
Lady Peterborough sat down on the same piece of furniture, her features creased with concern. “Are you all right? You look unwell.”
“I’m… Never mind that now.” She wanted to hear the countess talk first. The countess. Her mother. “I can’t believe you’re my mother. You’re certain?”
“The more I look at you, yes.” She studied Prudence’s face and smiled again.
“You are clearly Walter’s daughter. You have his eyes and his nose, the same shape of his face.
It’s astonishing, really. If I’d ever looked at you properly, I would have seen it.
” She laughed then, surprising Prudence.
“My goodness, but that would have been a shock—for both of us.”
“I think this must be a shock right now.” Stupidly—and surprisingly—Prudence wanted this woman to want her, to be happy to see her.
“Yes.” The countess’s tawny eyes clouded, and she blinked several times. Then she wiped a tear away. “It’s a wonderful shock. I never thought to meet you. You’re so beautiful, so poised.”
Prudence worried she might burst into uncontrollable sobs. How she hated all this untidy emotion! “But I’m only a paid companion.”
“You rose from middle class to move in the highest echelons of Society.” Lady Peterborough shook her head.
“You didn’t rise. You are from the highest echelons of Society.
You should have been raised here, with me.
You and Cassandra would have grown up together.
” Her voice broke, and she looked away, her chin trembling.
Prudence didn’t know what to do. Instinctively, she wanted to comfort the woman, perhaps touch her hand or hug her even. But everything was strange and awkward. A lifetime of secrecy stood between them.
“Your Christian name is Prudence?”
“Yes.”
“It’s lovely, as are you.”
Unwanted emotions tumbled through Prudence, but she had to focus on the goal for this errand. “I’m afraid Lucien is aware of this ring.”
The color leached from the countess’s face once more. “What do you mean?”
“I gave the ring to a gentleman. He wore it, which I never expected him to do. Lucien saw and recognized it. That’s how I came to know it belonged to your family.”
The countess’s hand flew to her mouth as she drew in a sharp breath. “Pete can never know that you are here—so close to me. To him,” she added in a bare whisper.
“I understand.” Prudence wanted to allay the woman’s fears—no, her panic. She was obviously very stricken by the notion that her husband should learn that Prudence was nearly in their lives.
Nearly.
“What did Lucien say?” the countess asked breathlessly.
“I haven’t spoken to him directly. He doesn’t know the ring was in my possession, nor does he know I have it now. He wants the ring because he says it belongs with his family. However, the gentleman returned the ring to me.”
“As he should have. It’s yours.” Lady Peterborough glanced toward the window, her brow furrowed.
“The gentleman has been able to put Lucien off, but your nephew has been most insistent. I’m afraid we’re out of time. I need to give him the ring.”
“No.” The countess looked back to Prudence, her gaze intense. “That’s the one thing I will not allow. I’ve bowed to everyone’s wishes where you are concerned, but I won’t in this. I will handle Lucien.”
“What will you say?” Prudence didn’t want to cause trouble for Bennet.
Lady Peterborough arched one shoulder. “The truth, I think. Lucien is very good at keeping secrets—and at helping people. I will tell him the ring is where it belongs and to mind his own business.”
Prudence continued to be surprised by the countess. Her mother. She was behaving as a mother ought. Somewhat, at least. “Thank you.”
“Why did you give this mystery gentleman the ring?” Lady Peterborough asked.
“I gave it to him as a favor—that he didn’t ask for. I’d hoped he would sell it. In fact, I told him to. He’s in need of funds, and I wanted to help.”
“He sounds rather important to you.”
Now was the moment to spill the other reason she’d come today.
“Things have changed since I gave him the ring. I find myself in the same dire straits as you once did.” Prudence hesitated the barest moment before plunging forward, heat rising in her face.
“I believe I’m carrying a child. I need a dowry. ”