As Jack left the cottage, his thoughts turned to Prudence. Their lives had converged in the most surprising way. It seemed as if fate had brought them together. He’d felt something similar when he’d first met her. She’d suffered the same brutality from the Stantons that his mother had and had come close to losing her life. Determined to protect her, he dwelt for a moment on her compassion, her need for him, and took solace from it. She understood and had helped ease that part of him that he’d thought would never heal. His heartfelt wish was to be with her, every day for the rest of their lives. Only then would the world right itself and the future look bright.
Chapter Nineteen
Almost two weekshad passed since Jack had been to see them in Richmond. Prue couldn’t settle to anything but sifting through the post and waiting for the sound of his curricle on the drive. When she ventured out for a walk, the industrious Mr. Warren followed discreetly behind, which, although it made her feel safe, spoiled any pleasure in the gardens. She soon gave up and remained inside.
She welcomed the chance to go shopping with Gramma in George Street and take tea again at the teashop near the river. It was Gramma’s treat, she’d said, to make Prue feel better.
As the pair sat together having tea, the sun broke through the clouds and sent dancing lights over the water. “You look tired, Prudence.” Gramma moved a plate of cress sandwiches toward her. “Aren’t you sleeping, my dear?”
“Not very well, Gramma.”
“We are both on edge, Prudence, which is perfectly understandable.”
Despite Mr. Warren’s reassuring presence at the house, when the wind rose and rattled the shutters, Prue found herself listening to every creak and groan. She couldn’t forget about the man who had entered her room in the middle of the night searching for her. And how other ruffians had whisked her away and locked her up in that frightening place.
“This dreadful business has taken its toll on you, dearest,” Gramma said. “I pray Lord Hereford comes soon with answers so that we may take up our lives again.”
“I do too, Gramma,” Prue said disconsolately. But she failed to see anything changing while Roland was at large and remained a threat.
On Monday afternoon, when she feared another day had passed without Jack arriving, she heard what she had been listening for and ran down the stairs. With a smile, Barnes opened the front door for her, and she sailed through as Jack leaped down from his curricle. Prue, without a thought, ran straight into his arms.
He hugged her and whispered, his mouth close to her ear, “I badly want to kiss you, sweetheart, but we must be patient.”
She leaned back to search his face. Although he appeared weary, the dark shadows seemed to have vanished, his gray eyes light and warm. “I have a lot to tell you. Shall we ask Lady Aldridge to join us?”
Jack greeted the butler, then took her arm, and they climbed the stairs to the drawing room.
William served glasses of claret, while Prue and Gramma sat quietly listening to Jack as the heartbreaking history of his childhood unfolded. Her heart gave a throb as different emotions assailed her: shock, sadness, and quiet fury at the culpability of the Stanton family.
“Mr. Everton has concluded that my mother, who was a close friend of George Stanton’s first wife, Elizabeth, came to her aid when a son, born to George’s mistress, was established as his heir. It appears she must have met George Stanton in the grounds and tried to reason with him, and he struck her down.” Jack paused and took a deep breath. “Mrs. Stanton might also have feared for her life; she certainly died not long after my mother. I found her physician still living in the village. He told me Mrs. Stanton couldn’t have children.”
“I am so very sorry, Jack,” Prue said with a sigh. How devastated he must have been growing up with his mother missing and never knowing what had happened to her.
Gramma gazed at Jack, compassion in her eyes. “How dreadful it must have been for you as a young lad, Lord Hereford.”
“I’ve had years to come to terms with it,” he said, staring down at his hands. “Once I claim my mother’s body, she’ll be laid to rest beside my father.”
They fell silent, the only sounds being the ticking of the mantel clock and the snuffling sound the otter made in his sleep. Even Horace had nothing to say.
Prue wished she could go to Jack and comfort him. “As soon as possible, I shall advise my solicitor,” she finally said. “The earldom will pass down to another cousin of my father’s, Richard Stanton, who is next in line.” She paused. “And I shall gift Richard with a good portion of my inheritance. I know Papa would approve.”
“That’s very generous, Prudence,” Gramma said. “Lord Hereford, do you know where Roland Stanton is now?”
“No. I have hired Everton to find him. Should he do so, his instructions are to follow him and advise me of his whereabouts.”
Prue frowned. “You will be careful, won’t you, Jack? If Roland is cornered, he will be dangerous.”
He put down his glass of wine and stood. “I must go. There is more work to be done before our case against Stanton for murder, falsifying evidence, and abduction can be proven. And when it is, the law will serve him just punishment.”
Prue rose from her chair. “I’ll come downstairs with you.”
Jack greeted Mr. Warren in the corridor. “I’d like you to remain here for the present, Fred. Stanton has not yet been found. Keep an eye out.”
“Certainly, my lord.” He grinned. “Lady Aldridge has a very fine cook.”
Before Jack stepped down from the porch, Prue, unwilling to see him leave so quickly put her hand on his broad chest. “You’ll take care? When will we see you again?”
He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss onto her knuckles. “With all haste, sweetheart.”
