She was not trying to curry favor or trap him. She was simply honest. It was as rare and as valuable as a flawless diamond. "You have placed me in your debt, Miss Bellamy," he said.
"I have done what was right," she countered softly. "There is no debt." He gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. "Nevertheless, I will not forget this."
He turned and walked back the way he had come, melting into the darkness, leaving Prudence alone by the river with nothing but the cold night air and the terrifying, exhilarating feeling of having finally taken control of her own fate. The codicil presented by Gideon's solicitor had the explosive effect Prudence had predicted. Lady Honora was incandescent with rage, first denying its existence, then accusing Prudence of forgery and theft. But the document was undeniably legal, witnessed by her late husband's own lawyer.
Lucian Trent's generous offer was nullified, and Gideon Devereux now held the exclusive right to purchase Sorrel Down at a legally determined price. Honora, however, was not without resources for spite. A loophole was found. While the Duke had the exclusive right to buy, the final price still had to be determined by a formal auction, open only to eligible bidders.
In this case, just one. But Trent, a man of slippery legal talent, argued successfully before a local magistrate that any party with a pre-existing financial claim against the Bramblehurst estate should also be considered an eligible bidder to ensure the debts were paid. As Trent had cannily purchased several of the estate's largest debts from local merchants, he was now back in the game. The sale of Sorrel Down would be a direct bidding war between him and the Duke.
Gideon was unconcerned until a report arrived from his man of business in London. A significant portion of his ready cash was tied up in a South American venture that had just collapsed, an investment made by his late father against all advice. He was asset-rich, but his liquid funds were now dangerously finite. The auction would be a close-run thing.
He needed to understand the full financial position of his own estate, Kestrel Chase, and quickly. He needed to find every overlooked asset, every misfiled deed. He needed an archivist, an auditor, and a cataloger of unimpeachable integrity and precision. He thought immediately of Prudence Bellamy.
He rode to Bramblehurst himself. He did not ask for Lady Honora. He asked for Miss Bellamy. Prudence met him in the hall, her face pale.
She was holding a small valise. Her aunt had told her to be out of the house by nightfall. "Miss Bellamy," Gideon began without preamble, "I require your services. I will pay you a salary of 50 pounds per annum with full board to put my estate archives in order."
"The work is urgent. It concerns the upcoming auction. I need an answer now." Prudence stared at him.
Fifty pounds was a fortune. It was independence. It was escape. It was a position of trust and respect offered by the one man who had seen her worth.
"Yes," she said, her voice clear. "Yes, Your Grace. I accept." "Good," he said.
"My housekeeper will be expecting you. Your valise is packed. Is there anything else?" "No," she said.