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“Did…did the Earl of Wycliffe marry me for my fortune?”
In the act of pouring a drink for himself, her papa froze. His back was to her, so she was unable to see his expression. Prue felt like she wanted to weep. “Papa?”
He slowly turned. “Why do you ask this now. You have been married for years.”
“I asked when Lord Wycliffe, and you said these were matters between men.”
“Bah! He married you because you are a beautiful miss. A bright and rare jewel that shone in a ballroom filled with lackluster diamonds. I remember your romantic notions, be happy you have a lord doting on you.”
She knew her papa’s and his skills at deflection. Taking a sip of the sherry, she composed her thoughts. “How much money was I worth to the earl?”
“Prudence—” her father began warningly.
“Papa, please,” she said, standing. “Do not prevaricate. Tell me!”
“Your dowry was always very handsome, young lady. We turned down more than a dozen offers for your hand in a week.”
She flinched as if struck. Yes, they had, but her parents had so desperately wanted an elevated title in the family that they had waited for the bigger shark to ask. “How handsome, papa?”
“Five hundred thousand pounds.”
“That was very generous of you, papa.” A fortune, and without that lure, the earl would never have looked at a young girl of seventeen who was pretty enough but with little connection to nobility. There had been far prettier ladies there that night with more respectable and lofty connections, but her purse had been the biggest. She tried her best to show an indifferent countenance to papa’s revelation and adroitly changed the subject to Temperance. Her father reassured Prue that her sister was well and that she had even mentioned calling upon her tomorrow. She spent an hour chatting with her papa and played a game of chess which she won before she kissed him on his cheek and bid himadieu.
Prue arriveda short time later at 48 Berkeley Square with silent tears streaking down her cheeks. Dashing them away with a furious swipe, she handed over her pelisse and hat to the butler. Then she made her way to the private parlor Theo claimed as hers. Knocking gently, Prue entered when a soft voice bid her welcome. Theo lowered the teacup onto a small table before her. “Prue! How lovely to you see. I’ve missed your presence these last several days.”
Her mass of blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders to her hips, and her whisky-colored brown eyes warmed with delight. Theo had the appearance of a woman happy with her lot in life, very different from how she had been only a few weeks ago. Prue’s opinion of the cold and arrogant duke who had practically kidnapped her friend instantly changed. Since he had placed that happy contentment on her friend’s face. Prue would love the man too and claim him as her friend.
“Do you plan to simply stand there?” Theo asked with an arched brow.
Prue sniffed, closed the door behind her and sauntered into the room. “I have not seen you in over three weeks, and I missed you dreadfully.”
“And that has caused your eyes to be puffy from tears?”
“The cause of that is my wretched husband, who I have been wooing. Perhaps in vain, I discovered today. I feel like a ninny to be crying.”
Theo smiled warmly. “Come, let’s have us a chat and some tea with a dollop of whisky added.”
A laugh hiccupped from Prue, and she sat beside her friend on the comfortable sofa. Some of the tension eased from her, and with a sigh, she toed off her shoes, leaned forward, and rolled down her stockings. She then removed the pins from her hair and shook her head to allow her hair to tumble down her shoulders and back. There. Now she felt a measure of peace.
Theo handed her a cup of tea, and she took a sip, tasting the whisky in the brew. It warmed her, and she relaxed even more.
“Tell me what is weighing on you?”
“Oh, Theo, I feel so wretched to be bringing my woes to your doorstep when we should only be celebrating your happy nuptials. Both you and Perdie are married and wonderfully happy. I should not—”
“It is for that very reason you should be crying on my shoulder,” Theo said warmly. “I amblissfullyhappy when you are clearly miserable.”
“You should be leaving today for your honeymoon,” Prue said stubbornly, even though she wanted to unburden her fears. There was an uncertainty upon her heart she did not fully understand.
“Prudence,” Theo said firmly. “We are more than friends. We are sisters. Your worries are mine, and I am glad they are. Now tell me why there is hurt in your eyes.”
She closed her fingers tightly around the teacup and took a shaky breath. “I…I did not know Wycliffe needed an heiress when he came across me in the gardens.”
Theo’s eyes widened. “I never heard any rumors that his estates were in trouble. If that was the truth, it was a tightly guarded secret.”
“It hurts, Theo, and I feel…uncertain. I never wanted a man to marry me only for my money.”
Theo squeezed her hands in silent support.
