“Rather like yourself,” said Prudence, sliding a look at her sister from the corner of her eye. “Or it was until you decided to adopt a far more serious demeanor.”
“You say that as though it is a bad thing.”
Prudence began to shake her head but stopped, her lips drawn tight as she frowned at the passing landscape. “I have tried so hard to help you see the truth over the past year, yet I do not think you’ve heard a single word I’ve said. People are not wholly wicked or righteous. Why do you keep speaking as though they are—yourself included?”
“Aren’t we supposed to aspire to be something better?” asked Rosanna with a frown.
“That is not the same thing as denigrating yourself at every turn.”
“But how can I help myself?” Rosanna sighed, her shoulders dropping. “You are so very strong and capable—”
“Stop that this very instant,” said Prudence, yanking her to a halt. With a frown and a furrowed brow, she glared at Rosanna, looking far more furious than Rosanna had ever seen her before. “I am done with you idolizing me. It is flattering, but do you not think that it is uncomfortable for me every time I hear you praise me for being some saintly paragon of virtue?”
“But—”
“But nothing,” snapped Prudence. “I have feet of clay like anyone, and to be entirely honest, one of my greatest flaws I’ve struggled to erase is how much my pride inflates every time I hear someone praise me over you. I hate it—especially when you are the one saying it.”
Rosanna stiffened and stared at her sister, uncertain what to say to that.
Softening her tone as her gaze warmed, Prudence pulled her lips into a sad smile. “You are too eager to throw away everything you are to become something you aren’t. And while that desire for self-improvement is admirable, you are ignoring a very simple but important adage—moderation in all things.”
Rosanna’s brows creased. “Do you truly believe so?”
“You weren’t a terrible person before, so why do you wish to scrub everything that you are from yourself?” said Prudence, giving her a tender smile. “You have flaws. So do we all. The answer isn’t to cast aside everything and start anew. Build off the good you have, and stop devaluing your strengths. Despite your upbringing, which ought to have turned you into a pampered princess, you are a caring and generous person. You always have been.”
Rosanna couldn’t help but recognize the similarities echoing in the meaning. She pressed her free hand to her stomach, but there was no calming the flutters, which moved through her like a kaleidoscope of butterflies. Brows pulling low, she thought through the conversations of this afternoon, but more and more the words aligned.
“Are you reaching an epiphany, dear sister?” asked Prudence.
Swallowing to clear her throat, Rosanna blinked rapidly whilst trying to grasp the words to describe this moment; epiphany felt too small a thing. “Do you think I undervalue myself?”
A puzzled frown pulled at Prudence’s lips. “You know I do. I have said so many times before.”
Rosanna’s throat tightened, the feeling drifting into her chest. “Mr. Tate said the same thing this afternoon.”
“And now that he has said the same thing, will you finally listen?” asked Prudence with a raise of her brows.
The jest flew past Rosanna’s ears without making any impression, and she quickly began to recite all that the gentleman had said to her.
“Some part of me wants to forgive him, but how do I know it isn’t my weaknesses wishing me to give in to a comfortable life? Or that I’m drawn to any man who treats me like a proper person and not just an ornament?” Rosanna shook her head. “I am at odds about what to do, and any time I make a decision doubts flood my mind and pull me in the opposite direction. Tell me what to do, Prudence.”
Drawing in a deep breath, her sister held her gaze. Those dark eyes were warm and understanding, but even before Prudence spoke, Rosanna knew no answer was forthcoming.
“I cannot, dearest. Forgive Mr. Tate or don’t, that is your choice. But I will say that you sell yourself short far too often. You are stronger than you believe—whatever choice you make.”
Rosanna’s shoulders fell as she sighed and nodded. “You are right, as always.”
“No,” said Prudence with a shake of her head. “Please do not say that anymore.”
“You aren’t right?” asked Rosanna with a pinched brow.
“I am not ‘always’ right about things,” said Prudence. “You cannot have a conversation without saying it, and it’s always with this tone that implies you are always wrong. I do not like it for either of our sakes.”
Rosanna nodded, and taking her sister’s arm once more, Prudence led her along the swath of green.
Chapter 27
Malcolm’s friends in London thought letting Boxwood Manor was a foolish decision. He couldn’t blame them. With an estate in Kent, it made little sense to take on the expense of another property, but with Sutterly Court overrun by his mother and sisters, Malcolm had no choice but to seek quieter pastures elsewhere. That his current home was close to the Bracegirdles yet still allowed him some distance from the newlyweds was an added blessing.
