Chapter Three

      Two days later, Prudence Lattimar strolled with her aunt through Sidney Gardens in the pleasant morning sunshine. Though a few of the highest sticklers refused to receive her, Lady Stoneway and her friend Mrs Marsden had done their work well. By now, she’d been presented to pretty much everyone currently residing in Bath with any pretentions to gentility.

      Unfortunately, her sister’s dismissive remark about the calibre of the resident bachelors had been all too correct. Even Aunt Gussie had admitted herself rather disappointed at how thin on the ground eligible bachelors were, comparing the current landscape unfavourably with what the city had been like thirty years ago, when she’d been a single young miss.

      ‘You could find almost as many eligible partis walking in the gardens here as you might find strolling in Hyde Park,’ Aunt Gussie murmured, shaking her head as they passed yet another old gentleman being wheeled around in a chair. ‘There were, to be sure, a contingent of the elderly and infirm come to drink the waters, but a large number of the Upper Ten Thousand also chose to spend the Season here! Well, we shall just have to do the best we can with what’s available.’

      ‘Speaking of which,’ Pru replied, her voice lowered to a murmur, ‘isn’t that Lord Halden, walking with the older woman over there?’

      ‘It is indeed!’ Aunt Gussie said, her face brightening. ‘That’s his mother’s cousin, Lady Isabelle Dudley. Keeps a house here as well as in London, generally residing at one or the other for most of the year. Apparently she doesn’t much like the country, even though her husband’s estate, Cliffacres, reputedly rivals Blenheim Palace. An earl’s daughter who married a commoner, but one from an old and fabulously wealthy family, it’s said she makes all her extended family dance to her tune.’

      Pru’s hopes in Lord Halden’s direction took a plunge. Just what she needed—someone else who would probably dismiss her without a glance because of her mother. ‘A high stickler?’

      Aunt Gussie chuckled. ‘No, just a tyrant. She caused her share of on dits in her day! A Beauty who had half the men of the ton dangling after her before she settled on Dudley.’

      Prudence cut a covert glance towards the woman, noting the high cheekbones and tall, elegant figure that testified to how lovely Lady Isabelle must have been in her prime. She looked exactly as Aunt Gussie had described her: rich, handsome—and reigning regally over her family.

      ‘Reformed sinners are usually more disapproving than most of those they consider to have fallen off the straight and narrow,’ Pru observed.

      ‘Perhaps. But it’s also said her primary qualification when evaluating possible wives for “her boys” is fortune,’ Aunt Gussie said. ‘Shall we go greet them, my dear? If Lady Isabelle is determined to blight your chances with the most attractive marriage prospect currently in Bath, better to discover that early rather than late, so we may shift our focus elsewhere.’

      The image of a certain tawny-haired lieutenant flashed into her head before she dismissed it. Even with Lord Halden eliminated from consideration, the globe-trekking Johnnie Trethwell wouldn’t make her list of desirable prospects. Better to concentrate her efforts on the sort of respectable country gentlemen she sought.

      ‘True enough.’ Bracing herself for what might be a humiliating set-down, Pru laid her hand on her aunt’s arm, summoned a smile, and prepared to brave the lion.

      ‘Lady Isabelle, Lord Halden, good morning,’ Aunt Gussie said as they caught up to the couple. After exchanging bows and curtsies, Aunt Gussie continued, ‘Lady Isabelle, may I present to you my niece, Miss Prudence Lattimar?’

      After her scanning her so thoroughly, Pru felt like a prize cow whose worth was being assessed by an auctioneer, the older woman gave her a nod. ‘Miss Lattimar. My young cousin, Lord Halden, was just telling me how he’d met you in the Pump Room yesterday, and been charmed. Now I see why.’

      Pru exhaled a shaky breath. Though Lady Isabelle most assuredly knew her history, evidently she’d passed muster anyway. Even better, Lord Halden’s relation would have fully acquainted him with her circumstances. If he knew them, and still found her ‘charming’, the biggest obstacle to developing a relationship with him had just been hurdled.

      For perhaps the first time in her life, she silently thanked her father for being such a careful curator of his vast wealth.

      ‘You’ve just come from London, haven’t you?’ Lady Isabelle said. ‘Walk with me, Lady Stoneway. You can acquaint me with all the latest happenings while these young people become better acquainted.’

      That was so bald, Prudence had a hard time not blushing. The auctioneer, turning the prime merchandise over to the potential buyer. Dutifully taking the arm Lord Halden offered, she tried to settle her nerves.

      Once they were a short distance down the pathway, she said, ‘I hope you don’t feel coerced into escorting me.’

      The Duke’s son laughed. ‘My cousin isn’t very subtle, is she? Completely accustomed to getting her own way, too, so there’s little use trying to resist her. However, I don’t need any coercion to walk with the most beautiful lady in Bath.’

      Gratified, she smiled. ‘You are very kind. I understand Lady Isabelle has a house here. Are you staying with her?’

      ‘No. Not that she wouldn’t have me,’ he added. After that curious statement, he continued, ‘It would be rather...restricting to live under the roof of someone bound to observe every detail of your comings and goings. A man needs a little freedom, after all.’

      Prudence suppressed another pang of envy. If he considered living in his cousin’s house chafing, he should try being an unmarried young woman of suspect character, whose every word and movement were scrutinised. Trying to summon up some sympathy, she said, ‘Yes, a young man should be able to stay out late playing a hand of cards or finishing a fine ale, without having someone waiting on him, watching a clock.’

      ‘Exactly!’ he exclaimed, looking on her with approval. ‘I’m so glad you’re not one of those missish girls, who thinks I should stay at home with my cousin, holding her yarn while she knits, or something equally rubbishy.’

      He stiffened when Pru, after trying to suppress a giggle, finally laughed. ‘Sorry, I simply can’t envision you dutifully hefting a skein of yarn! Does she knit?’

      Relaxing, Lord Halden grinned. ‘Heavens, I don’t know. If she does, the stitches had better do what she tells them.’

      Prudence shook her head. ‘Alas, mine never do.’

      ‘Not a needlewoman?’

      A potential clergyman’s wife would be expected to knit and sew for the unfortunate, she realised in a flash. ‘I confess I’m not the most talented, but I am committed to doing better.’ She bit her tongue to avoid adding, Despite the fact that I detest needlework and would much prefer to be outside, riding or mucking about in the garden.

      ‘What amusements