She thought back over her experiences with him. It didn’t quite add up. Hewasn’tsomeone who was always kind to everyone no matter who they were, what they had done, or whether they deserved it. He was withholding. He could be cold and even angry.
He was resentful of Peter. He didn’t treat his brother well out of the goodness of his heart. He did it because he considered it his duty as an elder brother.
And what of Prudence? Did he feel a similar sense of duty to her?
Maybe he does. But even if that’s true, he’s clever enough to know that his duty doesn’t extend to helping me find good books to read.
No, whatever this is, it’s about something else.
He left without offering her another word, but Prudence could not contain the swell of hope that rose within her as she watched him go, nor could she quell the certainty that there was something between the two of them that hadn’t been present in the beginning. She had begun to care for him—and she was suddenly deeply sure that he had begun to care for her as well.
“I saw you walking about the grounds this afternoon,” Leonard said to Prudence that night over dinner. “What drew you out there?”
“The gardens here are beautiful,” she explained. “I haven’t fully explored them yet, and I wanted to take advantage of the fine weather today to get my first good look at the place. So many lovely flowers—though I do wish there was a bit more diversity in their color. It’s mostly shades of pinks and reds out there.”
“You don’t care for those shades?”
“Oh, no, I adore them,” Prudence said quickly. “It’s just that flowers have so much more to offer. Wouldn’t it be just as well to include some additional colors? Some whites, some deep purples perhaps?”
“We could certainly speak to the gardener about that if it’s important to you,” Leonard said. “Shall I let him know, or would you like to do it yourself?”
“I wonder if you’re starting to think I’m changing too much around here,” Prudence mused. It was something her sisters had struggled with after their marriages, and Prudence had an idea that it might be common for gentlemen to feel as though their wives were overstepping early on in their marriages. Personally, she found the notion ridiculous—why would you bring someone into your home if you didn’t expect them to make it their home as well? But men could be difficult to understand. She was beginning to understand just how difficult.
“You’re not changing too much,” he assured her. “You’re welcome to change whatever you’d like here. This is your home just as much as it is mine.”
“But that wasn’t how you felt when I first arrived,” she reminded him. “When I changed the wages of the staff… you didn’t like that at all, or don’t you remember that?”
“I remember,” he said stiffly.
“And yet, now… has something changed for you? You don’t mind if I make sweeping changes to the gardens?”
“You’ll do what you want to do regardless of what I think about it,” he said with a small smile. “I’ve come to realize that about you, Prudence. And I think it’s for the best if I accept it, rather than trying to stop you at every turn. Besides, this housewillbe your sole residence once I leave.”
Ah. There that was again. The reminder that, soon enough, Leonard would be leaving, and Prudence would be here on her own.
It was a fact that should have made her feel happiness. Relief. It always had before when she had thought about the fact that she would soon be here on her own, she wouldn’t have to worry about her husband’s thoughts or opinions, and she would be able to live her life as she pleased.
But now, for the first time, she felt a pinch of discomfort at the thought of his departure.
What would it be like to be here all on her own? She would have all her needs meet, of course; the staff would see to that. But she had begun to enjoy the company of her husband in spite of herself. These dinners they were having together had been enjoyable. She’d beaten him at chess a few times now, but he was a worthy adversary—he had beaten her a few times as well. And then there were the moments each day when the two of them shared with one another the things they had going on in their lives. She’d grown to like hearing little updates about the peoplehe spoke to in the course of his business. And who would she speak to about the butterflies she’d seen in the gardens once he was gone?
Prudence took a deep breath and released it slowly.
This was going to be for the best. She knew that. She was more than ready to be on her own once more. And while she had been enjoying time with Leonard, it had never been intended to be anything permanent. She had always known that he would be leaving, and that her life would look drastically different once he was going. She was ready for that to happen.
I just need to quell my feelings about it, that’s all. I’ve allowed myself to grow attached to the life we’ve been living together these past few weeks because it has been so much easier than I anticipated it would be. But once he’s gone and I’m on my own, it will be easier still. That’s what I need to keep in mind. Once I’m on my own, I’ll have everything I ever wanted.
She tried to muster some excitement about that and found she couldn’t. She would have to do her best to resurrect that feeling later.
“I’ve made a provision with the kitchen,” Leonard said.
“A provision?” She was jerked from her thoughts. “What do you mean? What sort of provision?”
“Because you love the duck so much,” he explained. “Even after I’m gone, I want to be sure that you’re able to have the things you like. So, I’ve spoken to the cook about ensuring it, and duck will be served once a week. I hope that will meet with your satisfaction.”
“Oh—that’s so generous of you,” she said. “You didn’t have to do that. I would happily have eaten whatever was served.”
“You are a duchess, Prudence,” Leonard said. “And moreover, you are my wife. You ought to have whatever your heart desires. That is only what’s appropriate. If duck is what pleases you, then duck you shall have.”
