Page 69 of To Dare a Duke

That morning’s copy of The Lady’s Weekly Review was open before her, at the latest chapter of Prue’s story.

“Here,” she said, picking it up and offering it to him. “See for yourself.”

He took several paces back, shaking his head as if she had offered him a venomous snake.

“No,” he said, feeling his heart contract. He couldn’t read any more of Prue’s words, describing him as a wicked, heartless monster. He couldn’t bear it.

“Read it,” Helena said softly, her expression full of affection for him. “You need to read what she’s written. She’s made it right, Robert. She’s shown the world who you really are. The hero, not the villain.”

His breath caught and he stared back at her for a moment longer, still unable to reach for the magazine she held out to him. He watched as she stood and moved closer, reaching for his hand and closing his fingers about the paper.

“Read it,” she said again, before lifting on tiptoes to kiss his cheek and leaving him alone.

Chapter 19

Dear Alice,

I hope you can forgive me for disappearing in such a scandalous manner and for still not giving you my address, even now. I know it’s odd but it’s for the best, for the moment at least. I can assure you I am quite well, however. I just needed to get away. There is also something I must confess, to you and to all the Peculiar Ladies.

I am Miss Terry. Please forgive me, dearest Alice and tell the others how sorry I am for not confiding in you sooner.

―Excerpt of a letter from Miss Prunella Chuffington-Smythe to Miss Alice Dowd.

***

May 27th. A cottage in the country. Location undisclosed. 1814

Prue looked up from over the pages of her writing and smiled as Sally gave a happy little sigh of pleasure.

“Oh, Miss, that was just… lovely,” Sally said, clutching her arms around herself. “And to think you thought it up yourself!” The maid made a soft clucking sound, shaking her head in wonder. “I always puzzled over what it was you spent so long writing, when you didn’t send that many letters.”

“Well, now you know,” Prue said, tucking the sheets back into the folder she kept them in.

“Thank you for reading it. It was the highlight of my week, listening to Miss Minerva read out the new chapter.”

And hadn’t that been a surprise? Prue thought ruefully. It had never occurred to her that Minerva would do such a thing as take the time to read to Sally, who had never learned herself. It had never occurred to her to do such a thing. She allowed the guilt of that to settle alongside all the rest. Not just what had happened with Robert, but having so misjudged her cousin, and made her feel less than she was. What a wretched creature she had been.

“At the end of the last chapter I was so sure the duke had chased the heroine to her death. It was such a shock to discover she didn’t die in the fall, and that he was protecting her from the hero, who was the real villain! I was never more surprised, nor happier neither,” Sally added, hugging herself a little tighter. “I always liked the duke, despite his wicked ways. It’s good to know he had a heart all along and was just… misunderstood.”

She gave Prue a shrewd look. “Reckon that duke of yourn is misunderstood too, don’t you?”

Prue swallowed hard and got to her feet, turning away from Sally and picking up the notebook where she’d made lists of things they needed to buy. “He’s not my duke,” she said crisply. “But yes, I think he was.”

“I think he is your duke,” Sally continued, a matter-of-fact tone to the words. “I think he’s yours for the taking, but you’re too scared to chance it.”

“Sally!” Prue said, telling herself she was simply appalled that the woman should be so bold as to speak to her in such a fashion. “That’s not… not true,” she managed, her voice quavering.

Sally stood and walked towards her, folding her arms. “Why then? Why, when he wants to marry you so badly?”

“He doesn’t!” Prue exclaimed, feeling the inevitable tears clog her throat and make her eyes burn. “Not any more, not after what I did.”

“And you know that how, exactly?” Sally demanded, reaching out to grasp Prue’s arm when she would have turned away. “You must face him, Prue. Tell him you’re sorry and listen to him tell you how he feels. You owe him that much.”

Prue shook her head, fighting to keep her composure even as her tears spilled. “I can’t,” she said, struggling to get the words out. “I can’t bear it…. He must hate me, and I can’t bear it.”

Sally pulled her into a hug and rubbed slow circles on her back, as if she was soothing a child and not a grown woman. “There, now. You listen to me. You’re stronger than you know, my girl. I promise you that. Whatever happens, you’ll survive, and you’ll live, and you’ll laugh again. You’ve made amends, you’ve given back that which you took from him. You shouldn’t have done it, of course you shouldn’t, but we all of us make mistakes. Yon duke isn’t perfect, I reckon. He’s had his share of wicked deeds, I don’t doubt. There’s no smoke without fire, and I don’t think he’s an angel by any means, so don’t go acting like he is one.”

Prue drew in a shuddering breath and wiped her cheeks, forcing herself to calm as Sally let her go. “I know I should face him,” she said, relieved to discover her voice a little unsteady but more like herself now. “I should be brave enough to own up to what I’ve done and apologise, but… but I don’t think I am brave enough, Sally. At least, not yet. If I see him and he’s angry, I… I’m afraid that I’ll just cry and make a fool of myself and I can’t—”