Lord Creswicke was so far away, he wouldn’t know—”
The delicate pearl-tears dissolved into a cascade as she clung to Cate. Fighting back tears of her own—of anger or relief, she wasn’t sure—Cate put her arms around the quaking shoulders and woodenly patted her on the back.
“Prudence, please, time is of the essence—” Cate pleaded.
“There was a young man.” It was Nanna who spoke. She closed her eyes with pain of the admission. “He and Prudence…well…they did what young people do.”
“I loved him, Cate,” Prudence moaned into her shoulder. “I honestly loved him, with all my heart.”
The grey eyes going soft, Nanna lovingly stroked the back of Prudence’s head. “But the boy didn’t have the prospects or connections Master Collingwood sought. So he was sent away.”
“Papa meant to send me away, because I was ruined: no one of any position would have me.” Prudence sniffed hugely. Fumbling, Lady Bart produced a handkerchief and handed it to her.
“Then, a letter came from Lord Creswicke,” Prudence went on, after blowing her nose, her voice thickened with crying. “A business offer, I believe. Papa said it was perfect; Lord Creswicke was too far away, and had no way of knowing. So he…”
“Sold you to Creswicke,” Cate said flatly. “Damaged goods.”
Lashes quivering with tears, Prudence looked up. “I knew if I had been with a man—spoiled—no other would want me. Papa had said as much. So, I thought if Creswicke knew I had been, then he wouldn’t want me, and I wouldn’t have to marry him. So I told everyone—”
“That it was Nathan, and the doctor confirmed it.”
The sickening knot seized Cate’s gut. It was virtually her own plan, but Nathan had dissuaded her, pointing out the multitude of flaws. She regarded Nanna, wondering how much she knew. Worse yet, how long Nanna would have played along: before, or after Nathan was hung?
Cate closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping the pain might wake her from this nightmare. Opening them, she instead found reality staring her in the face, and now a dull headache.
“Prudence, you silly, silly girl,” Cate groaned. “Don’t you understand anything? Lord Creswicke doesn’t give a tinker’s damn about you, or your worthiness, or anything else. He seeks connections, nothing more.”
“It’s true dear,” Lady Bart said, tight with emotion. “Your father has been a reprehensible, money-grabbing cad most of his life.”
Humored by her aunt’s blunt evaluation, Prudence stifled a nervous snicker.
“What am I to do?” Guileless in innocence, Prudence looked to the surrounding women.
Lady Bart’s eyes welled. “Marry Creswicke; there’s aught else.”
“Perhaps not.” Cate pensively chewed the inside of her mouth. “What if there had been some kind of a mistake?”
Lady Bart pivoted to ask blankly. “What kind of mistake?”
“What if,” Cate began haltingly, still playing it out in her mind, “since you had never seen your niece before, she had been able to put one over on you? What if she told you she was your niece, but wasn’t…really?”
Cate looked from one to another, hoping for them to grasp her point quickly and save precious time. She had been in the house far too long; every minute more increased the chances of herself, or worse yet, Nathan, being discovered.
Sputtering, Lady Bart slumped in her chair and threw up her in abject surrender. “Of course, she’s my niece,” she muttered, more to convince herself. Rocking in agitation, she pleated and re-pleated the fabric of her dress. “But you are Prudence, aren’t you, dear?”
“Yes, of course, Auntie.” Prudence knelt to clutch her aunt’s hand. “But Cate means to help.”
Lady Bart’s mouth took a severe downward turn. “How is it helping, when she’s trying to convince me you’re not?”
“Not convince you,” Cate explained, patiently. She angled her head toward the parlor door and the unseen world beyond. “We just need to convince all of them.”
“Convince them of what?”
“That Prudence isn’t…Prudence.”
“Then who is she?” Lady Bart asked, her distress increasing.
“A girl on the ship.” Even as Cate heard herself say it, she was struck with how desperate it sounded. The pain in her temple pounded in rhythm with her pulse. She glanced toward the window, and then the corner clock.
“That’s ridiculous,” exploded Nanna. “Everyone knows who she is.”
“You know that,” Cate said, facing Nanna, “because you were on the Capricorn. But how does anyone else know, I mean, really know? Have you ever seen a likeness of Prudence before now?” she asked of Lady Bart.
“Hardly,” Lady Bart said with an unladylike snort. “My brother would have never spent that sort of