“I don’t think that’s what Augustine means,” Honor said evenly.
“Not at all,” Augustine insisted. “I mean only that it is best for you to remain out of society for a time until this blows over,” he said sternly. Having delivered his brotherly warning, he rose up on the tips of his toes and down again, then yanked at the bottom of his waistcoat, pulling it over his belly. “You must never give us a fright like that again, Pru,” he said, wagging a chubby finger at her.
“No, of course not,” Prudence said bitterly. “I shouldn’t do anything but stay out of sight and speak when I am spoken to—don’t worry, Augustine. You won’t have me to fret over. Perhaps I will marry the mysterious gentleman and solve the problem for you.”
She had never seen her stepbrother look as shocked as he did in that moment. His jaw dropped open. His eyes widened with alarm. His lips moved as if he wanted to speak but was incapable. And then he found his tongue. “I beg your pardon, you mean to do what? Who is this bounder?”
“He’s not a bounder! He’s an American.”
Augustine looked as if he couldn’t draw his breath. “He’s a what?” he shouted, the force of his voice very nearly lifting him off his feet.
“Prudence! Stop this!” Honor cried.
“I’m only telling him the truth, Honor.”
“And with very little regard for his feelings,” Honor said hotly. “Augustine, darling, let me sort it all out, will you?”
“I can’t believe what she’s saying,” Augustine said helplessly as Honor took him by the elbow and began to guide him toward the door.
“I’ll sort it all out, dearest. You should go home to Monica now,” Honor said, referring to Augustine’s wife. “She’ll be terribly anxious to hear what’s become of Prudence.”
Augustine looked with great bemusement at Prudence as if he were looking at an apparition. Prudence felt another painful twist inside of her. She loved Augustine. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. “Augustine—”
“Yes, she will be most anxious,” he said, nodding to himself as Honor showed him out.
Moments later, Honor returned with a dark glare for her sister. “Are you happy now?” she asked irritably as she fell into a chair. “Augustine is beside himself.”
“What would you have me say, Honor? Would you have me deny it? Would you have me pretend I have no feelings about it, that I don’t know what I want?”
“No,” she said as if speaking to a child. “But you might have shown a bit of tact.”
Honor was right. Prudence sat on a chair across from her sister. “I apologize,” she said. “You’re right, that was badly done.”
Honor sniffed. She looked away from Prudence a moment. “Do you really want to marry him?” she asked, and turned a shrewd gaze to Prudence.
“I don’t know,” Prudence said with honest misery. “I feel things for him that I’ve never felt in my life,” she said, pressing her palm to her heart. “I can’t imagine I shall ever feel this way again. And then it feels a bit like an ague, and I think it will pass. But it doesn’t pass, Honor. It only seems to grow.”
“Oh dear,” Honor said. She suddenly sat up. “Listen to me, Prudence. Grace and Mercy are coming this afternoon. Can’t we at least discuss it as rational, clearheaded sisters before you do something foolish and swan off to America? Will you not at least show us the courtesy of discussing something that would affect us all?”
“My life, my choices, will affect us all?” Prudence asked, bristling.
“Of course they do. Just as you so adamantly pointed out last night that my choices have affected you, your choices affect us. Do you think any one of us want to lose a beloved sister to America?” she said as if she could hardly say the word. “Are we not at least as important to you as this...this stranger? You would say the same, Pru, and you would demand the same consideration as us.”
Prudence gazed at her beautiful older sister. She’d adored Honor all her life, had looked up to her, had idolized her. She could see the faint smudges of worry under her eyes this morning and knew that she’d put them there. Honor was right, of course. Her sisters were her world. They were the corners of her heart. But Roan was there, too. As improbable as it seemed, he had taken up space in the center. “Yes,” she said calmly. “Yes, of course, Honor. I would never intentionally hurt any of you. Never.”
Honor smiled wearily. “I know, darling,” she said, and reached for Prudence’s knee, giving it a squeeze.
“Where have they gone?” Prudence asked meekly.
The Scoundrel and the Debutante (The Cabot Sisters #3)
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