Pru thought she saw something like a comprehending approval in his smirk.
“Lady Morley,” Dorian Blackwell greeted as if he’d never before thought to utter those words together. He bent over her knuckles and pressed a kiss to the air above them, never touching the skin. “It’s been the cause of much speculation between Farah and me as to what prompted Morley to so hastily take a wife.” In an inappropriate show of public affection, he straightened to put his arm around his Countess, and rested his hand low on her waist just above her bustle as if it belonged there. “I think the mystery has been solved, my love.”
Farah turned her saintly smile upon Prudence. “You’re a beautiful woman on any day, Lady Morley, but in that lilac gown you’re a vision. Utterly glowing with maternal beauty.”
Glowing? Surely not. She’d been losing weight because of her inability to digest food. She was pale, wan, and her eyes sunken with dark circles beneath. She felt more like a shade than an actual person.
They were being kind, of course.
She had to pinch herself to stop gawking like an open-mouthed carp. “I-I thank you, my lady, my lord. What an honor to greet you both.”
An honor, and a horror.
The Blackwells were a sight unto themselves. He, dark as a demon with a demonic air of handsome ferocity, and she his unfettered radiant counterpart. It was plain as day Dorian Blackwell adored his wife.
The question was, did Farah return his affections? Or did she still covet Morley?
How could she not? Blackwell was a compelling man, if not specifically handsome, and he’d an air of vital masculinity few possessed, however he was a shadow in Morley’s golden presence.
At least where Pru was concerned.
She looked to Morley, who wore an expression of one in a dentist’s lobby awaiting a particularly unpleasant procedure.
The question was what? Did he not want the woman who owned his heart to meet the woman who now lay claim to his name?
The very thought was like a punch to the ribs, taking the wind from her lungs as well as her sails.
She didn’t know which would have been crueler, for him to tell her or not… she might have been tempted to like the Countess had she not known her husband had once desired her.
That he’d wished to share a home and children with her.
Had they kissed, she wondered.
Prudence had kissed a few men in her two seasons out, enough to know that kissing Morley was an experience that eclipsed all else.
“Carlton, allow me to purloin your wife whilst you and Dorian conduct your affairs. I’m dying to know her.”
Carlton? Even Pru, herself, wasn’t on such intimate terms with him. Moreover, every time she tried to pin the name upon him in her mind, it refused to stick.
“Lady Morley?” Farah Blackwell didn’t wait for her husband’s reply. “Let’s retire to your preferred rooms.”
“O-of course. This way, Lady Northwalk.” She gestured toward the stairs to her second-floor parlor.
“You’ll call me Farah, of course, all my friends do.”
They weren’t friends, but Prudence nodded as she turned to lead the Countess away. She moved as if quicksand sucked at her feet, a sense of doom washing over her as she climbed the staircase. This woman in her wake, would she be cruel or kind once they were alone?
Farah Blackwell knew who she was, and the circumstances of her marriage.
Did that mean her husband truly trusted these people? Or that their secret was already out and they were trying to control the damage?
Either way, brittle though she felt, she was determined to face this woman with dignity and aplomb befitting the Queen of England, let alone a knight’s bride.
Farah couldn’t have astonished her more the moment the parlor door had shut behind them. She turned and swept her up into a desperate, but gentle embrace and held her there.
“Oh, you poor dear, what a nightmare you’ve been through. When Dorian told me the extent of the situation, I haven’t been able to sleep but for worrying over you.” She pulled back for a moment just to look at her. “I hope you don’t mind the intrusion of a stranger, but I just had to see for myself if you are all right. Knowing Carlton, he’s bungled the entire thing, stashed you here, and thrown himself into his work.”
Pru swallowed a lump of alternating emotions. Gratitude and jealously. “You certainly know my husband well.”