She turned her attention to Mercy, so carefree, so diverted by the unusual American creature, and thought of her box of brushes. It was all too much. Prudence forced herself to eat something so as not to draw attention to her despair, and then struggled to keep it down. She was grateful that Aurora was taking the center of attention, pulling it away from the darkness that was creeping in around her.
After dinner, Roan suggested that he and his sister retire. It was the proper thing to do, given the circumstance, but Aurora looked disappointed.
“Matheson, might I have a word before you retire?” George asked, and to Merryton, “My lord?”
“Certainly,” Roan said, and strode out of the room with them, unafraid.
Prudence felt almost panic-stricken as she watched them go. She wondered what George meant to say. If there was anything to be said to Roan, she wanted to be the one to say it.
Finnegan came in to the dining room and said, “I’ve taken the liberty of putting Miss Matheson’s things in the blue room.”
“I’ll bring her up,” Prudence said.
“Thank you,” Aurora said. She smiled at Prudence, her gaze locking on her. “That would be lovely.”
The bedroom at the end of the hall had china-blue walls and a snowy-white counterpane on the bed. Aurora flounced onto that counterpane and sighed up at the embroidered canopy. “It feels divine. The bed I had at the Villeroys’ was so lumpy!”
Prudence leaned up against the vanity, watching her, wondering what Roan had told her about the two of them. “You must be exhausted.”
“A bit,” Aurora agreed. “I’m dreading the drive to Liverpool. The roads are so wretched, and I was bounced about all day today and I ache all over.”
Prudence pretended to straighten things on the vanity and looked at Aurora in the reflection of the mirror. “May I ask...are you sad?”
“Sad?” Aurora pushed herself up to her elbows as she considered that. “A little, I think.” She smiled ruefully. “Not as sad as Albert. He was so distraught when we were caught that I feared the poor dear would burst into sobs.”
She was so flippant! It annoyed Prudence. “Didn’t you love him?” she asked, perhaps a bit too sharply. She wanted to add that they’d been on their way to marry, presumably because they were in love, and to be thwarted at the last minute must have been heart-wrenching.
Aurora gave her a funny look and slowly pushed herself up, so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s funny, really—I truly thought I loved him. Of course I did, or I would have never agreed to elope. But when I saw Roan on that horse, shouting at the driver to halt before he started the team away from the station, I was so...relieved. I can’t describe it any other way. I was relieved. I felt as if I had been saved, almost from myself.”
Prudence looked at Aurora skeptically. But the young woman nodded earnestly. “I know that must sound deplorable to you. In one moment I was running off to marry Albert, and in the next, I was glad to be rescued. I think I was infatuated,” she said. “Infatuation feels very much like love, did you know? Have you ever been infatuated?”
Prudence felt a funny twist in her gut. Was it infatuation that burned in her and not love? How did one tell the difference? “Ah...I don’t think so,” she said uncertainly.
“Poor Albert. I don’t think he was infatuated at all. I think he truly loved me. My father is right—we are too impetuous.”
“We?” Prudence asked.
“Roan and I,” Aurora said.
Roan, impetuous? Prudence wanted to ask in what way Roan was impetuous but was afraid to speak, afraid of betraying her feelings for him.
“Roan can be very passionate about his ideas,” Aurora said.
Yes, Prudence could agree that he was.
“Do you know it was he who first spoke to me about my fiancé, Mr. Gunderson? Well...he was my fiancé. Roan says he is very displeased with me now,” she said, as if it weren’t the least bit odd to speak of another fiancé on a day like this. “Roan was the one who convinced me that a marriage to him would be quite advantageous for the entire family. And how important it was that we think of marriage in those terms.” She smiled. “I understood him, of course. And I suppose I was made agreeable by the fact that I’ve always esteemed Mr. Gunderson.”
“That’s...that is the way marriages are made here, too,” Prudence said, thinking of Stanhope. “For connection. For fortune. I suppose for affection, too.”
“Affection is what I feel for Mr. Gunderson,” Aurora said. “I feel wretched that I’ve hurt him and I hope he’ll forgive me. I rather think that’s what Roan feels for Susannah Pratt,” she added thoughtfully. “Affection. Not love, at least not yet, but certainly affection.” She smiled at Prudence. “Very well put, Miss Cabot.”
Not love, but affection... Those words struck Prudence like a knife to her back.
“What is it, have I said something wrong?” Aurora asked.
The Scoundrel and the Debutante (The Cabot Sisters #3)
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