Chapter 3

Chapter Three

P rudence let a slow smile spread across her face as she walked through the beautiful gardens of St James' Park. Her father and mother were only a short distance ahead of her and, though she had walked with them both for a time, she had stepped back once her mother had begun wondering aloud about what sort of gentleman might be willing to even consider Prudence's hand.

That had been difficult to hear and, though her father had quietened the conversation quickly, it had been enough to set Prudence back from them both for a time. She was all too aware of just how difficult it would be to find her match. The problem with the ton was that they had long memories, and a deep unwillingness to forgive - which meant that, no matter where she went or what she did, someone would recall who she was and what she had done. There would be a whisper about her, someone talking out of the corner of their mouth to another, and Prudence would feel that creeping sense of upset and mortification, shame beginning to bite down upon her heart again.

It had happened last evening when she had done her best to step out into society with her mother. The soiree had been small and intimate, and she had been pleased with the small smiles and the nods which she had been able to share with some of the other guests, but when she had tried to step into the conversation, she had caught the glances which had flicked between one lady and the next, leaving her in no doubt as to what they had been speaking about. No one had offered her any sort of conversation, no one had reached out to speak to her and she had simply stood there, silently. Her mother had continued the conversation for her. She had tried her best to bring Prudence into it, but none of the other guests had even the smallest bit of willingness to assist. They had ignored her and, in the end, Prudence had stepped back into the shadows and, despite her mother's cajoling, had refused to come out again.

Little wonder that my mother feels such despair over me and my prospects.

With a small sigh, the smile on Prudence's face crumpled as her heart dropped like a stone. She had no one to blame for this situation apart from herself, and though she felt as though she deserved every drop of censure, every disconcerting glance, the pain was heavy upon her.

"Lady Prudence!"

She turned her head, only to see someone waving at her from only a short distance away. Pausing, she smiled as Miss Rockwell hurried towards her, leaving someone behind her.

"Good afternoon, Miss Rockwell." Prudence gestured to her mother and father. "We are out walking in the park, as you see."

"As am I!" Miss Rockwell looked back over her shoulder. "My mother is coming after me now. Mayhap we should permit them to be introduced?"

Prudence nodded and, asking her parents to join them, quickly made the introductions. Miss Rockwell's mother was a very pleasant lady, with a warm smile and a kindness about her which Prudence recognized at once. It seemed that Miss Rockwell possessed the same tenderheartedness as her mother and, for that, Prudence found herself grateful. Lord and Lady Lymington and Lady Drakewater soon fell into conversation and Prudence and Miss Rockwell turned aside, choosing to have their own conversation rather than linger with their parents.

"A very pleasant afternoon, is it not?" Miss Rockwell smiled as they wandered together, making sure not to stray too far from their parents. "I have had a letter from my betrothed, so to me, it feels as though the sunshine is a little brighter and the air a little warmer than before!"

"That is good." Prudence looked at her friend. "And Lord Yates? How does he fare?"

The smile faded just a little from her friend's face.

"He is contented that things are going as they should be, though I confess that I am still a little disappointed."

"Oh?"

"He is not to come back to London," Miss Rockwell sighed, looking away from Prudence. "I thought that he would return soon, but it seems that I am to be held back from him for a little longer."

Prudence blinked in surprise at hearing the lady speaking with such obvious affection.

"You care for him, then?"

Miss Rockwell glanced up at her and then returned her gaze to the path.

"I know that it is most unusual for one to care for one's betrothed, but yes, my heart is certainly tender towards him. I think him an excellent gentleman, with a very kind and considerate heart and thus, I could not help but think well of him. Our letters have been very frequent and the words of affection within them have increased from both myself, and from him." She smiled, her face coloring just a little. "It seems a little strange to say that letters have improved our connection, but they have! I did not think that my heart would ever feel such a sweetness towards any gentleman, but Lord Yates has brought that about in me, simply by who he is." With a small, contented sigh, she tossed another glance to Prudence. "When it comes to making a match, I think a match where there is affection between husband and wife is the very best of marriages."

Prudence said nothing for a few minutes, letting the silence drift between them, though there was no awkwardness about it. She had never given any thought to finding affection when it came to making a match and, even now, she could not say that it was something which she truly desired.

"I have not even thought about such things," she admitted, eventually. "When I first thought about finding a suitable husband, I considered only title and fortune. Even now, that is all that I think about."

"Oh?" Miss Rockwell tilted her head so that she could look at Prudence a little better, her fair curls pushed back by the wind. "Do you believe that you would be truly contented with a husband who had no genuine consideration for you?"

Prudence nodded.

"Yes, I believe that I would."

"Well, I certainly would not be," came the reply. "I want nothing more than to have a husband who cares for me, who adores me, and who I can love in return. And with Lord Yates, it seems that I am to have it! It is such a blessing, I can hardly believe it!"

"I am glad for you," Prudence answered, honestly. "For myself, however, I believe that I will be glad for any match that I can get!" Her brow furrowed, and she cast a quick glance at a group of gentlemen whom they had just walked past. "Though even now, none of them so much as glance at me."

"No doubt that is because they are talking of nothing but gambling and horses, and are paying no attention to anyone who walks past here," Miss Rockwell said, making Prudence smile rather ruefully. "It is not simply because you are a wallflower, I assure you."

"Ho, there!"

Hearing something behind her, Prudence glanced over her shoulder, only for her heart to quicken in astonishment. A gentleman was hurrying after them, waving one hand as though he were attempting to catch their attention. Turning her head back to the path and presuming that whoever this gentleman was waving at was ahead of them, Prudence found herself all the more confused, given that there was nobody there.

"If you would but give me a few moments of your time?"

Prudence glanced at Miss Rockwell.

"Is this fellow speaking to us?"

Miss Rockwell glanced over her shoulder and then, after a moment, nodded.

"I believe so."

"Are you acquainted with him?"

"No," came the answer, "but from his broad smile, it seems that we soon shall be!"

Prudence hesitated, aware that they had not been formally introduced. Having no desire to bring any sort of further shame upon herself, she took Miss Rockwell's arm.

"Might we be cautious, Miss Rockwell? I do not want society to think worse of me than they do already!"

Miss Rockwell nodded and, unable to ignore the calls of the gentleman any longer, Prudence turned around directly, keeping her chin lifted as the gentleman approached. He smiled and inclined his head, beaming at her as though they had already been introduced and he was now delighted to see her again. Prudence did not recognize his face – handsome though he was – and, with another curious glance towards Miss Rockwell, she waited for the gentleman to introduce himself.

Much to her astonishment, he did not.

"Might I ask if I heard you correctly?"

Caught all the more by astonishment, it took Prudence a moment to answer. Instead of answering his question, however, she arched one eyebrow and kept her head held high.

"Might I ask if we have been introduced?"

The gentleman paused for a moment and then, much to Prudence's surprise, laughed jovially as though she had said something mirthful, his brown eyes twinkling.

"Very good, very good," he said, then wiggling his finger at her as if she were still a child who was being lectured by her schoolmistress. "But I must beg to know whether you were speaking honestly or not."

"Whether we were or not, it does not give you the right to simply demand to know such things from us!" Miss Rockwell broke in, her eyes flashing with clear anger. "Goodness, I do not think that I have ever come across a gentleman who would speak in such a manner!"

The gentleman looked at Miss Rockwell for a moment before, much to her surprise, he dropped into a bow and, upon rising, kept his head lowered as his dark hair fell forward over his forehead.

"I am truly sorry," he said, sounding rather contrite though Prudence was still quite uncertain of him, not sure what he was about. "There is a situation which I am doing my best to resolve and, hearing what was said between you has filled me with all manner of hope and expectation!"

Prudence looked at Miss Rockwell, who merely offered her a slight shrug, telling her silently that it was up to her whether they stayed to listen to him or not. A little afraid that this gentleman would call after her and embarrass her all the more if she walked away, Prudence chose to remain where she was, looking back at the fellow as he finally met her gaze.

Something rippled over her, but she ignored it, giving herself a slight shake to remove it from herself. This gentleman, whoever he was, had a handsomeness about him; a small, lilting smile that was a little coy, brown eyes that were warm and hopeful, and a strength to his frame which was obvious simply in the way that he moved. Prudence pushed such thoughts aside, however, and with what she hoped was an obvious sigh, put out her hands to either side in question.

"Might we know your title, my Lord? At least that way, though we are not formally introduced as we ought to be, we will not be speaking to a stranger."

He grinned at her, the light in his eyes sending another ripple of that odd sensation over her skin, but Prudence did not react, other than to gaze back at him with a steady gaze.

"Wonderful," he said, bowing for what was now the second time. "I am the Marquess of Childers."

Prudence blinked in surprise, a little astonished that a Marquess would come to speak to them without being properly introduced first. Was not he a gentleman who knew the rules of propriety? Or was this matter at hand so urgent that he could not hold himself back, as he had said?

"Miss Rockwell and Lady Prudence," Miss Rockwell stated, not going into detail with her introduction as regards who their fathers were and the like. "Now, what was the purpose of your demand that we stop and listen to you?"

As Prudence watched, Lord Childers turned his eyes towards her , no longer looking at Miss Rockwell, but rather fixing all of his attention upon her. She shivered lightly, a little uncertain about what such an intense look might mean, finding herself stepping back when he moved only a little closer.

"Lady Prudence," he said, his voice softer now, as though he were attempting to cajole her into something. "Daughter of…?"

She frowned.

"My father is the Earl of Lymington."

Lord Childers rubbed his hands, his grin returning.

"Capital!" he exclaimed, his exuberance as yet unexplained. "The daughter of an Earl, then! Wonderful."

Becoming all the more confused and unsettled by his exclamations, Prudence forced herself to step forward and, glaring at Lord Childers, folded her arms over her chest.

"Explain yourself, Lord Childers, or we shall take our leave within the moment," she said, a little harshly. "I will not wait any longer for your explanation."

"Of course, of course." Dropping his hands to his sides again, he beamed at her. "I overheard you saying that you would be glad to make a match with anyone. Might I be bold enough to ask if such words were genuine?"

A furious heat enveloped Prudence as she stared at the gentleman, her whole body feeling heavy and weighted. Beside her, Miss Rockwell began to splutter with indignation, telling Lord Childers exactly what it was that she thought of his question, though Lord Childers himself did not look anywhere but at Prudence's face, waiting for her to respond.

Prudence closed her eyes for a few moments, mortification sweeping through her. She had not thought for a moment that anyone had overheard her speaking in such a way, and to know that this gentleman had done so filled her with nothing other than shame and embarrassment.

"Do not be afraid to tell me," Lord Childers told her, ignoring Miss Rockwell's exclamations and speaking only to Prudence. "There is a purpose in my question."

"And what might that be?" Prudence asked, a little hoarsely, her face burning with heat. "What possible reason could a gentleman such as yourself have in asking me such a thing?"

Again, that seemingly ever-ready smile returned to Lord Childers' face as he moved a fraction closer to her.

"Why, Lady Prudence," he began, softly, "it is because I believe that I have a match for you."