Chapter One

      1802

      Elizabeth Wentworth gasped in dismay. “Judith, you can’t mean it! Do you tell us that you have agreed to marry Truscott? I won’t believe you!”

      A slight cough from the third member of the trio of ladies seated in the salon of the house in Mount Street checked a further outburst for the moment.

      Elizabeth looked at her sister-in-law in a mute appeal for support, but Lady Wentworth refused to catch her eye.

      In the twelve years since her marriage, Prudence had mellowed, learning to control her temper. Hasty words could never be recalled, however much one might regret them later.

      Now, heavily pregnant with her fourth child, she struggled to sit upright on the sofa, smiling at their visitor as she did so.

      “When did this happen, Judith? How you have surprised us! We had no idea…” Her voice was gentle, and the look she gave her friend was full of affection.

      The effort to soften the impropriety of Elizabeth’s reaction to Judith’s news did not succeed. The younger girl jumped to her feet, and began to pace the room.

      “Why did you accept him?” she cried. “Oh, Judith, he won’t make you happy. Why, the man is a charlatan, a mountebank! I know that he is all the rage at present, with his fashionable sermons, but he doesn’t believe a word of them. For all his talk of hellfire and damnation, he likes nothing better than to mix with the very society which he affects to despise.”

      “Elizabeth, you go too far!” Prudence said sternly. “Pray allow Judith to speak at least one word. You might also pay her the compliment of believing that she knows her own mind.”

      Elizabeth looked mutinous, but she held her tongue as she flung herself into a chair.

      “Pru, don’t scold,” Judith said quietly. “I knew that this must come as a shock to both of you. After all, the Reverend Truscott has never given me reason to believe that he had noticed me…that is, until these last few weeks.”

      Elizabeth tensed, and seemed about to speak, but a glance from Prudence silenced her. Each knew what the other was thinking. It was less than a month since Judith had learned of her handsome inheritance from her mother’s brother. Nothing had been expected from the elderly recluse, but he had surprised the Polite World by leaving his vast wealth to his only niece.

      “I was surprised myself,” Judith continued in her gentle way. She gave her listeners a faint smile. “I am no beauty, as you know, and I don’t shine in society. I find it hard to chat to people I don’t know, and as for being witty…?” She pulled a wry face at the thought of her own shortcomings.

      “Dearest Judith, you underestimate yourself,” Elizabeth exclaimed with warmth. “Confess it! You have a wicked sense of humour. Why, on occasion have we not been helpless, all three of us, when you have been telling us your tales?”

      “That’s because I know you well, and I feel easy in your company. Your family has been so good to me…I still miss the Dowager Duchess dreadfully.”

      “And she was fond of you.” Elizabeth returned to the attack. “What would she have said, I wonder, had she known of your decision?”

      “She always wished me to marry,” Judith said mildly. “She was so happy for both her sons when they chose you and Prudence. She longed for the same joy for me.”

      “That was different!” Elizabeth said firmly. “Judith, will you tell us that you have a tendre for this man?”

      Judith coloured. “Perhaps not everyone can hope to be as fortunate as you were yourselves…to find the one person in the world for whom you’d give your life.”

      “Then wait!” Elizabeth cried in an agony of mind. “You are still young.