Page 2 of Never Second Guess a Lord
“Quite questionable if they will be warm enough.” Agnus wrapped her jacket more tightly. Her blade of a nose twitched. “I must say, the scent here ismostdisagreeable.”
Rather than respond, Prudence took in the woodland, recalling a time when she had been determined to flee this sort of thing. When she dreamt of leaving the English forests of her youth behind so she could make her grand debut in London. Be the talk of the town. Land a suitor that would give her the status for which she so longed. Little did she anticipate she would land an earl.
One who was a downright monster.
It was something she tried not to dwell on as they continued north a short time later. All of that was behind her now. The future lay ahead. Freedom. A new beginning. A life she would carve out on her own. One that still practiced the propriety to which she had become accustomed, minus a gatekeeper. Without lecherous eyes constantly tracking her whereabouts.
“Oh, dearheavens,” Agnus muttered when they started down a long, heavily wooded, winding drive barely broad enough to fit a carriage. “One might think we are traveling back to the dark ages. Back to a time when….” Her maid’s eyes widened at the looming castle alongside them breaking through the pines and silver birches. “Do youseethat, my lady? Do you…” Her mouth snapped shut into a hard line before her tone turned ever more disapproving. “It is positivelymedieval.”
As they left the tree cover behind and things brightened, Prudence took in the sturdy but sizeable weatherworn castle that had belonged to Clan MacLauchlin for over five hundred years. While not elegant like the English castles she was used to, it possessed a certain stalwart nature she appreciated. From its ancient drawbridge to its turrets and towers, it bespoke a sense of unfailing perseverance. Parts of it had been refurbished, but the main structure remained, standing proudly against the ages, as seasoned and as strongly standing as Prudence had become over the years.
“We must not linger here long.” Agnus shook her head and frowned out the window. “This is no place for you, my lady.”
“Perhaps not.” It might be a castle out of another time, but there was no missing the wealth attached to it as they pulled into the courtyard. “Yet I have been invited, so I must attend.”
Verdant hedges were abundant and well-trimmed. Stately outdoor statues were clearly expensive antiques, and the elegant stairs out front were a work of art. A stunning Phaeton carriage was parked nearby with a sturdy well-bred set of black horses, and the coachmen and footmen heading their way were finely presented.
The MacLauchlins had done well over the centuries, gaining not just wealth and land but substantial titles in both England and Scotland. Truth be told, Maude marrying not just a viscount, but the overseer of this castle was more than Prudence had ever dared hope. After all, her sister’s parents had been commoners. Her mother, however, had married a baron after Maude’s father passed away, giving Prudence and their other two siblings a much better chance in society.
Almost the moment she thought of her, Maude appeared at the top of the stairs leading to the front door, clasped her hands in delight, then raced down to the carriage when it stopped. While some considered her plain, Prudence had always thought Maude rather fetching with her crop of wild, brown curls and lively cinnamon-colored eyes.
Her personality was another thing altogether.
“Atlast.” Maude cared nothing for decorum but shooed away the footmen, flung the door open, stuck her head in the carriage, and widened her merry eyes at Prudence. “Dear sister, how I have missed you!”
Having forgotten just how lively and unorthodox this sister could be, Prudence stuttered and huffed a little when Maude plunked down next to her, grasped her hand, and looked at her expectantly. “How was your ride? Did all go well? Did you come across any interesting people?” Not waiting for an answer, she smiled at Agnus, who had paled at Maude’s boisterous behavior. “Wishing you a warm welcome.” Her attention returned to Prudence. “Oh, Idoso hope the commute went well. It is so very chilly and, oh, the wind! I hope that—”
“The ride went very well, thank you.” It may be rude to cut someone off mid-sentence, but Maude might never come up for air if Prudence did not. “Thank you for having us.”
“But of course.” Beaming all the while, Maude waved it off. “We are sisters, so my home is your home.” She looked Prudence over, squeezed her hand, and released a gusty sigh of pleasure. “You look every bit as lovely as you did when last I saw you all those years ago.” Her gaze lingered on her face as though she expected to see one thing but saw something unexpected instead. Her smile faltered ever-so-slightly. “But not quite the same.” Her voice gentled, and her eyebrows pulled together. “No, not quite the same at all.”
“Ididlose a husband,” Prudence reminded her sister, “and it was very difficult.”
Or so she told the world. So she showed all who watched and wondered if she would mourn the beast. If she were really as proper as she presented herself to be.
“You did, and I am so very sorry.” Maude teared up and embraced her. “So very, very sorry.”
She was not sorry in the least, and they both knew it. Maude had disliked her husband from the start and was never shy about it. Sadly, her take on Barrington had been spot on, but pride and a long-developed new take on life kept Prudence from admitting it.
Instead, she stiffened and pulled away.
“It has been a long day, and I wish to rest.” She gestured at Agnus and played the proper role. One her servant preferred. “My maid would like to be acclimated with your household and shown her quarters.”
Obviously unsure of what to make of things, Maude’s eyebrows perked then lowered as she looked between Prudence and Agnus. When her merry-turned-worried gaze landed squarely on Prudence again, she knew her sister would be offering her opinion on the matter soon enough, so she wasn’t surprised when she wasted no time broaching the matter when she led her up the stairs to the front door minutes later.
“Are you well?” She linked arms with Prudence. “For you are not the sister I remember, nor do you surround yourself with the sort you once did.”
If she only knew. “And what sort is that?”
“The sort that is everything you once were.” Maude was not discreet but was as open as she had ever been. “Vivacious. Loving. A true adventurer determined to marry well but to never forget who you were. Never forget where you began.”
Where she began? “I began titled, destined to marry someone equally titled or above my station.”
“Yes, most definitely.” Maude shrugged and shot her another concerned look. “But never said so haughtily or with so much detachment.”
Had she sounded haughty? Detached?
“I am sure I do not know what you mean.” She ignored the butler, who held the door open and greeted her cheerfully with a brogue so thick she barely understood him. “I am as I was when last we met, sister.”
