Chapter 23

Not all the pretty gowns in the world could distract Prudence. What in heaven's name had she done? Letting Ben ravish her in the back of his printshop had not been on her list of things to do. But as it ever was with ravishment, it had rather taken her by surprise.

At least it had not made her late to Marie's. The modiste did not abide tardiness, not even for a duke's sisters. One reason Prudence adored her. The other was the small, private parlor in the back where Marie escorted Prudence and her sisters every time they had a fitting. It felt more like a cozy talk at home than an excursion to get pricked with pins. Now the twins sat in matching chairs, flipping through fashion plates, and Lottie sat next to Prudence, sipping tea, having already finished her fitting. Andromeda had been dragged up onto a pedestal across the room where Marie, a tiny woman with steel-gray hair and straight pins held between her teeth, was undressing her.

Five women and none knew where she'd been this morning, what she'd done. Certainly, she'd not intended to do it.

He had warned her twice, told her twice that he would stop, had waited for her answer. And still she let it happen, had wanted it to happen. She had certainly not been with child this morning, but now?

She'd not know for some time. What she'd done felt like a promise, a commitment, and no matter what her body demanded, her heart could not yet give it.

Yet she'd tied her ribbon round his wrist. A gesture that seemed even more intimate than what they'd done on the worktable. She'd tied it on a few days ago only because, after even such a short period of time, she'd missed the feel of Ben's black ribbon there.

Marie bustled out a door, leaving the sisters alone.

"Prudence." Lottie leaned over and tapped Prudence's hand. "Are you well? You've been rather pale and silent since returning from the country."

"Of course she's been out of sorts," Isabella said. "What happened between Cora and Norton is quite shocking. I hear the viscount has taken up residence at Hotel Hestia."

"But I thought he had returned home!" Andromeda stood in her shift and stays only, waiting for Marie's return.

"Yes," Prudence said. "He turned up at their London residence not long after Cora arrived home. And he proceeded to make things worse. They argued heatedly, so Cora tells me. But she will not say exactly what he said, only that he promised not to say a word about the books."

"I don't blame her for keeping her silence," Lottie said. "Arguments are best kept between a husband and a wife."

"Someone should tell Norton"—Imogen peeped out from behind a fashion plate—"that other things are best kept between a husband and a wife as well."

"What do you mean?" Prudence held a cup of tea but could not bring herself to drink it. It sat lukewarm between her hands on her lap.

"I imagine Isabella can tell you." Imogen put her nose back behind the plate as everyone turned to look at Isabella.

"Well," Is said, lowering her voice, "I've heard the viscount is not only residing at the hotel. Rumor has it he has invited numerous women of ill repute into his rooms."

"No." Andromeda's blue-green eyes widened. "I never would have thought him that sort. Did you think he would be so public with his affairs, Prudence?"

Prudence rested the cup on the table and shook her head. "He always seemed so pleasant. A mild-mannered sort of man. Cora is devastated."

"I did not know," Lottie said, "that Cora liked him well enough to be devastated."

"She could be mourning her reputation," Andromeda said.

Prudence traced her finger around the rim of the full cup. "I think she had always hoped to avoid the sort of marriage her parents have."

Marie bustled back into the parlor, silencing all gossip. She lifted Andromeda's gown over her head and fastened it at the back, fussed with the skirts until they fell with utter perfection down Annie's frame. The gown was made of a sheer, bright yellow fabric. It brought out the roses in her cheeks and fit her to perfection.

When Marie had taken notes for final alterations, she waved for Prudence to take Annie's spot. Usually, when Prudence climbed atop the pedestal, she avoided looking right at herself. Today, she did not, studying her reflection as Marie helped her strip to her stays and shift. The reflection she'd seen upon returning to London had not faltered in the last week, though she'd feared it every day. And every day, she pushed fear down and made a choice—chose to love herself, no matter what men like Ben and her brother might do. She chose to see herself as worthy of love.

Marie patted her shoulder. "Wait just there, my dear." She disappeared once more.

"Lottie, Andromeda?" Prudence viewed them through the mirror's reflection.

"Hm?" they said together, looking up.

"I have two secrets I'd like to share with you. Is and Im, too."

"Oh?" They all said together, sitting straighter, leaning closer.

Prudence took a deep breath. "First, did you know I have often felt… lesser? Than all of you?"

Silence and wide, blinking eyes.

Then Imogen barked a laugh. "Surely you jest, Pru."

Prudence shook her head.

"But you cannot feel so," Lottie said. "Why would you?"

"Have we… made you feel that way?" Andromeda asked.

"No!" Prudence leapt from the pedestal and joined her sisters around the tea set. "Never. It is only a… a trick of my own mind, I think. And that some others, some men, have often made me feel so. I am quite… invisible at times. In society."

Isabella rolled her blue eyes. "Society. They all wish they were invisible so they could do as they pleased."

"You are above reproach, Pru." Andromeda reached out for Prudence's hand and squeezed it.

"I'm not seeking compliments." Prudence squeezed her sister's hand back. "But I felt the need to tell you. In fact, the more I speak of it out loud, the stronger I feel to battle it back. And"—she cleared her throat—"Annie, I am not quite above reproach. There is my second secret."

"After that powder keg, I'm not sure I want to hear." Lottie melted backward into her chair.

Prudence glanced toward the door. Marie would arrive any moment. She smooshed all the words together and spoke them as quickly as her tongue would allow. "I am in love with Mr. Bailey." She sucked in a breath and held it.

Another bout of silence.

Then Isabella broke it. "The American?"

Prudence nodded.

"How did this happen?" Lottie demanded.

"He was at Norton Hall. Came there to spy on me for Samuel."

Her sisters jumped to their feet in a flurry of skirts.

"Did he find anything out?"

"Has anyone punched him yet?"

"How can you love a low-down spy?"

"How could he?"

"Which he? Samuel or—"

"They're both despicable!"

The beloved voices overlapped, and Prudence waited until they fell into silence once more, turning to her for further explanation. Their passion convinced her better than anything could—no matter what happened, if she had her sisters, all would be well.

"Oh, Pru!" Andromeda wrapped her in a hug. "Do not cry!"

Then other arms embraced her, soft and light as feathers, yet strong as only women's arms can be, holding her up, beating back her sorrow.

If these women loved her like this, why had she been so scared for so long? She squeezed them more tightly, pulling them closer until they were a laughing tangle of limbs and skirts.

"Whatever is happening is all very nice and sisterly, but may I please have Lady Prudence back?" Marie's voice slurred a bit from the pins, but still held a note of command they jumped at.

Prudence returned to the pedestal, and Marie dressed her in the new ball gown. Once finished, she stepped back. "What do you think, my lady?"

Prudence, for what felt like the hundredth time this week, studied her reflection. It was the same sort of ball gown she usually wore—higher in the neckline than fashionable, the same white most unmarried women wore in the evenings, no embellishments, no surprises, virginal, boring, unsophisticated. She appeared the same as she ever did, and that felt wrong. So very wrong when she felt so very changed.

"It's boring, isn't it?" Imogen had not asked a question, no matter how she'd phrased her sentence.

"Im." Lottie scowled. "Marie has worked hard on this gown. Do not be rude. It is perfectly serviceable."

"Serviceable." Marie snorted, circling Prudence. "I agree with Lady Imobella." She'd long ago mushed the twins' names together, unable to tell them apart. "Serviceable is all well and good, but it is… boring. What do you think, Lady Prudence?"

"I think you and Imogen are correct. It is wonderfully made, Marie. Quite lovely. But I think I would like something a bit less… serviceable and a bit more… brazen for Lottie's ball."

Isabella clapped.

The gown had suited her before. It no longer did so. The wrong style and fit entirely for the sort of woman who ran off before dawn to find her friend and save her from trouble, for the sort who allowed herself to be ravished in a boathouse. Or the type of woman who compared dukes to the arse-end of a hedgehog to their faces.

"Will you be able to make some alterations in time?" Prudence asked.

Marie stopped circling and closed her eyes. "Not just alterations. An entirely new gown. Lower bodice, naturally. Puff sleeves. Square neck. And dusky pink tulle over…" She tilted her head to the side and tapped her lips. "Deep-blue satin, I think. Yes."

"I do not wish to trouble you," Prudence said, though she did not speak the truth. What she wanted. That gown, exactly as Marie described. It sounded spectacular, and Ben had told her to wear something just so. She wanted to wear something just so.

"I can see it now, my lady." Marie spit the pins in her hands and threw them in a nearby dish. "Just a moment. Let me make a sketch." She ran out the door.

"Did she spit out the pins?" Imogen asked, peering inside the small bowl.

"I've never seen her without them," Isabella whispered.

"It means she's quite serious." Lottie stood beside Prudence and took her hands. "As am I, Sister. You do not look so happy for a woman in love. Does he not reciprocate your feelings?"

What else to say but the truth? "I do not know."

Andromeda rested a hand on her belly and bit her lip. "And your feelings are unchanged even after learning about his machinations with Samuel?"

"Yes. No. I… cannot stop loving him, but it is all muddled together with anger now."

Lottie laughed, her breath puffing a curl out of her face. "I know that feeling all too well."

"What do I do?"

"Find out what you want and tell him. Then it is up to him. If he complies, and he shows you he can be better—every single day, he shows you—then you may begin to heal. With him. If he denies you. Or if he shrugs off your request as of no import, well… there are better men out there for you."

"I have already made a request of him." Prudence picked at a floret on the bodice of the ball gown.

"I assume," Andromeda said, "what you asked of him is not something trifling like a stroll round Hyde Park or a bit of jewelry?"

Isabelle swatted Andromeda's shoulder. "Of course it is not, Annie. Prudence wants more than outings and fripperies. She wants… What do you want, Prue?"

Prudence glanced at the empty doorway. Marie still sketched elsewhere. "I want him to publish the periodical I told you about, the one where we can hide all the information the ladies of the ton need to know about where to meet and when."

"And he said…?" Isabella prompted.

Prudence turned back toward her reflection, found herself smiling. "He's agreed." So easily, too, as if there'd never been a question in his mind, as if he'd always do as she asked, support her when she needed it. And not because he thought her incapable, but because… because… he admired her, didn't he?

Marie swept back into the room with a square of paper held high like a trophy. "I've got it. What do you think, Lady Prudence?"

Prudence took the sketch, and her sisters gathered round to look as well. Together they created a choir of approving hums and oohs and aahs.

"It's perfect." Prudence closed her eyes and imagined herself wearing it, imagined Ben seeing it. Yes, he'd admire it, admire her.

And she should admire herself.

Lottie nudged Prudence with her shoulder. "It's sure to make the men—"

"Or one particular man," Andromeda said.

"Absolutely mad with desire." Lottie finished with a wink. "She'll take it, Marie."

"My pleasure, my lady. Now." Marie found her pins and put them back between her teeth, eyeing the twins. "Which of you are up next? Lordy, I can never tell you apart."

As she worked, Prudence poured herself another cup of tea, and she sipped this one, slowly, letting the liquid warm her from head to toe. She'd decided to adore the gown, to feel like perfection itself while wearing it. No matter what happened, she would feel as if no man could look away. Every woman would want to work with Marie after. She laughed. She could be spinning fairy tales. She might step out in her new gown and be as invisible as ever. But she would not decide before the day came that they were impossibilities.

She would dance with the London gentlemen and laugh with no other motivation than waltzing through an evening certain of her own worth.