London—early April, 1833
‘You’re certain you won’t come with me?’ Temperance Lattimar’s twin sister asked as she looked up from the trunk into which she’d just laid the last tissue-wrapped gown. ‘I know Bath isn’t the centre of society it used to be, but there will be balls and musicales and soirées to attend. And, with luck, attend without whispers of Mama’s latest escapade following us everywhere.’
Temperance jumped up from the window seat overlooking the tiny garden of Lord Vraux’s Brook Street town house and walked over to give Prudence a hug. ‘Much as I will miss you, darling Pru, I have no intention of leaving London. I won’t let the rumour-mongers chase me away. But I do very much hope that Bath will treat you kindly—’ though I doubt it, London gossips being sure to keep their Bath counterparts updated about the latest scandal ʻ—and that you will find that gentleman to love you and give you the normal family you’ve always wanted.’ Letting her sister go, Temper laughed. ‘Although, growing up in this family, I’m not sure you’ll recognise “normal” even if you find it.’
‘You mean,’ Prudence asked, irony—and anger—in her voice, ‘not everyone grows up with a father who won’t touch them, a mother with lovers tripping up and down the stairs every day and rumours that only their oldest brother is really the son of their father?’
‘Remember when we were little—how much we enjoyed having all those handsome young men bring us hair ribbons and sweets?’ Temper said, trying to tease her sister out of her pique.
Pru stopped folding the tissue paper she was inserting to cushion the gowns and sent Temper a look her twin had no trouble interpreting.
‘I suppose it’s only us, the lucky “Vraux Miscellany”, who fit that sorry description,’ Temper said, changing tack, torn between sympathy for the distress of her twin and a smouldering anger for the way society had treated their mother. ‘Gregory, the anointed heir, then you and me and Christopher, the...add-ons. Heavens, what would Papa have done had Gregory not survived? He might have had to go near Mama again.’
‘Maybe if he had, they’d have reconciled, whatever difficulty lay between them, and we would have ended up being a normal family.’
Temper sighed. ‘Is there such a thing? Although, to be fair, you have to admit that Mama has fulfilled the promise she made to us on our sixteenth birthday. She’s conducted herself with much more restraint these last six years.’
‘Maybe so, but by then, the damage was already done,’ Pru said bitterly. ‘How wonderful, at your first event with your hair up and your skirts down, to walk into the drawing room and hear someone whisper, “There they are—the Scandal Sisters”. Besides, as this latest incident shows, Mama’s reputation is such that she doesn’t have to do anything now to create a furore.’
‘Not when there are always blockheaded men around to do it for her,’ Temper said acidly. ‘Well, nothing we can do about that.’
After helping her twin hold down the lid of the trunk and latch it, she gave Pru another hug. ‘Done, then! Aunt Gussie collects you this morning, doesn’t she? So take yourself off to Bath, find that worthy gentleman and create the warm, happy, normal family you so desire. No one could be more deserving of a happy ending than you, my sweet sister!’
‘Thank you, Temper,’ Pru said as her sister crossed to the door. ‘I shall certainly try my hardest to make it so. But...are you still so determined not to marry? I know you’ve insisted that practically since we were sixteen, but...
Shock, his suffocating weight, searing pain... Sucking in a breath, Temper forced the awful memories away, delaying her reply until she could be sure her voice was steady. ‘You really think I would give up my freedom, put myself legally and financially under the thumb of some man who can ignore me or beat me or spend my entire dowry without my being able to do a thing to prevent it?’
‘I know we haven’t been witness to a...very hopeful example, but not all marriages are disasters. Look at Christopher and Ellie.’
‘They
