Tilly clutched the book to her chest. “I wasn’t…I didn’t…”
“What you didn’t do is behave properly, or protect your virtue.” Prudence’s lips stretched into a grimace of disgust. “I saw you put your hands on Lord James and kiss him like some common wharfside doxy.”
Tilly shook her head, eyes wide with horror. It hadn’t been like that. She’d kissed him because he was sweet and sincere.
“Don’t tell Mother,” she whispered. The last thing she wanted was for her father to confront James and demand marriage. Honor might compel him to wed her, but he would hate her. He’d think she was like all those women he’d spoken of.
“We’ll see about telling Mother.” Prudence looked down her nose at Tilly. “Perhaps if you find a way to pay me back the fifty pounds you lost Erwin, I’ll decide not to inform her.”
Fifty pounds? Where on earth would Tilly get fifty pounds, and what had Prudence’s husband to do with any of it? “I don’t understand.”
Prudence rolled her eyes. “Of course you don’t. You’ve always been very simple. It’s sweet, really. Endearing, I’m sure. At least, it was when you were still virtuous. Now you’re just simple and ruined.”
“I am not ruined,” Tilly hissed. “It was one kiss. Nothing more.” Except it was more. It was the most perfect kiss ever shared. “No one needs to know.”
Prudence came farther into the room. “Well, I know, and Lord James knows, and he’s sure to tell Erwin the next time they meet, to claim his winnings.”
“What winnings?” Tilly snapped. Why did Prudence keep going on about money?
“From their wager,” Prudence said, shrugging. “Lord James said he’d seen you on the swing and wished to, ah, sample you. Erwin, honorable as he is, spoke in your defense. He said you would never permit yourself to be kissed.” Prudence’s voice took on a long-suffering note. “I tried to stop him from taking Lord James’s wager. I knew you couldn’t be trusted not to kiss the first man who got you alone.”
Tilly gaped at her sister. Was that why James hadn’t called? She looked back out into the darkening street. The elegant coach was gone. Pain knifed into her as she recalled how Lord James hadn’t even glanced toward their house. He’d acted as if she didn’t exist.
“Oh dear.” Prudence drew near in a rustle of silk.
Tilly squeezed her eyes shut and wished Prudence far away.
“Don’t tell me you’re upset,” Prudence said. She touched Tilly’s shoulder.
Tilly jerked away.
“Tilly, it was only a kiss. I won’t tell Mother, really. Don’t worry.” Prudence patted her awkwardly. “I can’t believe you came to care for him so quickly. I’m sorry you did. I tried to warn you that he’s a terrible rogue.”
It was true, Prudence had said as much.
“What was I thinking?” Tilly whispered.
“You’re young and silly,” Prudence said. “That’s why I’m here, to help you this season. I’ll see you don’t end up with the wrong gentleman.”
Tilly nodded. Her sister sounded so unusually kind, Tilly risked a glance. Prudence watched her with a look of grave concern.
“I’ll tell Mother you aren’t feeling well and won’t join us for dinner, shall I?” Prudence asked.
“Yes, thank you,” Tilly choked out.
Prudence offered a smile before she turned away. She hummed to herself as she crossed the room.
Tilly watched her sister disappear into the hall. She closed the book and dropped it to the floor beside her so she could pull up her knees. Arms wrapped tight about them, she buried her face in her skirt and wept.
