Chapter Sixteen
Prudence’s head was in a whirl and she had a great deal of difficulty focusing on one single thing at a time.
People were constantly congratulating her, hugging her and saying nice things, and she kept smiling and thanking them, all the while wondering why everyone was celebrating a lie.
Reid, when she had chance to look at him with that very question in her eyes, simply gave her a little shrug. He had no idea what was going on either. At last, the crowd around them faded away in favor of food and dancing, and they had chance to slip away for a bit.
Taking off the wreaths, Reid led Prudence down the hallway to the small library, where he hoped they could steal a few moments alone. But it was not to be. They opened the door and right behind them was Lord Southwick.
“Please,” he said. “Give me a few moments? Then I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”
“Very well, Sir. Please…take a seat.” Reid led them to the couch and chairs arranged around the fireplace. There was a good blaze going which warmed the room and helped Prudence relax a little.
She turned to Lord Southwick. “I have to ask, my Lord. Why did you do that? Acknowledge me as your daughter? I am aware of the truth of the matter.”
“I know, my dear.” He looked into the flames. “I loved your mother to the edge of madness, but I was a terrible husband to her. I was in London too often, leaving her here alone. And when I returned, I found fault with her, expecting her to run Southwick as well as my mother had. Of course she couldn’t do that. She hadn’t had the years to learn how to run a household. But did I care? No. We had terrible fights and I’m ashamed to admit that I was cruel to her. The love I bore her would see no faults, no rational logic, and in hindsight I can see how my behavior drove her into Jack’s arms.”
He shuddered then, a slight tremor that helped Prudence understand the depth of his emotions. She moved to sit next to him. “Go on.”
He glanced at her. “I had hoped that the child she carried was mine. I wanted a child very much. It was all part of the duty of being Lord Southwick. One was expected to produce an heir and for the first year or so we had failed. That also angered me. I wasn’t doing well at that time, I had business pressures and loans due. I took my fears out on Isabel. And I’ve been ashamed of it ever since.” He reached over and took Prudence’s hand, but still stared at the fire.
“You, child, I also took my anger out on you. Isabel told me when she was about to give birth that you were not my child. I was in my usual vile temper and she screamed it at me, a blow that rocked my world. I had barely absorbed it when you were born—and she was gone. And just like that, my world ended.”
Now he turned and looked at her. “You are her image, you know. So very much like her. You have her beauty, her mannerisms and her charm. Even as a newborn you had the look of her. And that killed me every time I looked at you. I believed Dorothea was the only option that would save my sanity. I’m so sorry.” He paused and shook his head. “It’s not enough. It can never be enough. But by acknowledging you I hope I may have undone a little of the damage I caused all those years ago.”
“You understand that I am not actually your daughter?” Prudence’s voice was low and a little rough, her emotions clogging in her throat.
“I do,” the older man nodded. “However, you are the child of the woman I loved beyond reason. For that alone, you must be dear to me. Ane if I could wish for a second daughter, it would be you.”
Prudence felt the sting of tears and then the comforting warmth of Reid’s hand on her bare shoulder.
“We are planning to marry, my Lord. I believe you know that.”
“I do. And I am very happy for you both.” Southwick looked at Reid. “You’re a fine young man with a good future ahead of you. I believe you’ll do well together and I wish you many years of happiness.” He stood. “I cannot continue at this point. Forgive me but this is a difficult time for me.”
“I understand.” Prudence stood as well. “And I thank you again. You might not have been the best of husbands to my mother, but I believe you were a good father to Emmeline. And that’s what matters now. That you take the best of the past and use it to improve the future.”
“Wise girl.” Southwick managed a tiny smile, lifted her hand and kissed it. “Your mother would have been very proud of you.”
“Thank you.”
She and Reid watched him leave the room, his head down, his shoulders stooping more than they had all night.
“That was hard for him,” sighed Prudence. “But it has solved our problem, love.”
“Yes, I suppose it has.” Reid looked thoughtful. “Can you promise me to wait here for just a few moments?”
“What?”
“I promised my mother I would give you something. I have to go get it.” He headed for the door.
Prudence blew out a breath. “Go. I could use a respite from any further surprises today.”
“Wonderful. I’ll be back in a tick…”
“I could use a brandy as well,” she called after him, not sure if he’d heard.
Alone, she resettled herself in the chair, but then, restless, got up again and walked to the window. The snow shone softly under a half moon and there were fluffy lines of the stuff along the ledges of the windowpanes. It was so tranquil outside, an eternal kind of beauty that would last long after she and Reid and everyone there at Chillendale Hall had long gone.
