“You don’t need my pardon, Mrs. Mills. I told you to go ahead and say whatever you liked, and I meant it,” Prudence replied. “Tell me what you mean.”
“You’re still the Duchess of Desford,” Mrs. Mills explained. “You still have the estate at your disposal. You could have all kinds of fun here. You could throw parties for instance. You enjoy that, don’t you?”
Prudence hesitated. “I’m not sure His Grace would like that,” she argued, a little surprised at herself. When had she started allowing herself to be dissuaded from the things she wanted because of what Leonard would think about it?
“He’s not going to be able to keep his absence a secret, Your Grace,” Mrs. Mills said. “People are going to know that he went to the country, and they’re going to know it soon. You don’t need to sequester yourself in this house out of some desire to keep that a secret because it won’t stay a secret anyway.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Prudence agreed. “I wonder what people will say when they find out?”
“I don’t doubt there will be speculation, but no one will know anything for sure,” Mrs. Mills said.
“I wish he and I had agreed on a story before he had left,” Prudence said. “Though, on the other hand, I do grow tired of lying on his behalf, so maybe it’s for the best that he didn’t get the chance to ask me to. Now I can say whatever I’d like about his absence, and I don’t have to worry that I’m betraying him by doing so.”
“That’s very true,” Mrs. Mills said. “Though I would advise discretion. You know all too well how tongues will wag, and whatever story you come up with, there are bound to be at least three more. Who knows how close they will come to the truth?”
“And why should I fear that?” Prudence sat up a little straighter, filled with a sense of purpose and resolve that had abandoned her when Leonard had left. It had returned now, thankfully, and she was relieved to feel it once more. “People always find something to criticize. Something to speak ill of. I don’t see why that should be a problem for me to concern myself with. My husband is gone, and I am free to live the life I choose without worrying about what others might think of it. And I intend to do exactly that.”
Mrs. Mills inclined her head, saying nothing. She gave no hint of approval—except that Prudence thought she might have seen a slight smile on the housekeeper’s face. “Shall I leave the tray here for you, Your Grace?” she asked.
“Yes, thank you,” Prudence said. “You know, suddenly I feel my appetite starting to return.”
“Very good, Your Grace.” Mrs. Mills turned and left the room without saying anything more.
But she didn’t need to say more. Her purpose had been achieved. She had woken Prudence from the hopeless stupor in which she had drifted through the past few days, and now, at last, Prudence could see the way forward.
Her future would be nothing like she’d ever planned. In many ways, she wished the time she had spent with Leonard had never happened, for it had given her hope for something that could never come to pass. She knew that hope would take a long time to fade. But she also knew that time could heal almost anything, and all she had to do was wait for that to happen.
Leonard wasn’t going to be a part of her life. He had chosen.
But she was still going tohavea life. And she would make the best she could of it, with or without him. That was all she could do, and it was what she had always done well.
I don’t need him. I wanted him, yes, but I don’t need him.
And Prudence took what felt like her first easy breath since the moment she had learned Leonard was leaving.
CHAPTER 35
The country house was a quiet and peaceful place. Leonard had always enjoyed it here as a boy. But he hadn’t much expected that he would find any peace on this visit, and that prediction turned out to be quite right.
All he could think about was the look on Prudence’s face when she had seen his trunks and understood that he was leaving after all. She had tried to cover it up, but he had seen the moment before she had managed to put up her mask. She was hurt by his choice. Saddened by it.
In many ways, it was his own fault. He had gone back on what he knew was the right thing to do. He should never have allowed her to believe he had changed his mind, even though he had believed changing his mind was a good idea. He should have remained firm in his determination to go to the country, to leave her behind.
Instead, he had wavered. And now that he was here, it came at a price. He knew that he had crushed her.
He closed his eyes.None of this should have happened.
But he couldn’t take all the blame for it either. Shehadgiven away the story of what had happened at their wedding, and she couldn’t claim not to know he had wanted to keep it a secret—aboutthat, he had never wavered. She might say that she had only told the truth out of a misguided wish to defend him, and maybe that was true, but even so, shehadtold. She had revealed something he had been desperate to keep a secret. And then there was the matter of his feelings for her…
He sighed again. He did have to admit that he had feelings for her now, even though he had never intended to. Maybe he was even in love with her. But the way he was behaving right now was perfect proof of what a dilemma that was. He had been driven to distraction, driven from his own home, and all because he didn’t know how to tame the way he felt about Prudence.
I shouldn’t have married at all. That was where the trouble really began.
There was a knock on the door of his study. He rose to his feet at once. Nothing was unpacked yet, so he could hardly pretend to have been working.
The knock had come from his valet, Mr. Smith, one of very few servants he had brought here with him. “Begging your pardon, Your Grace,” he said. “You have a visitor.”
“A visitor?” Leonard frowned. “Who even knows I’m here?”
