The Wicked Ways of a Duke(18)

And so emphatic he’d been about it, too, a frown drawing his brows together and a spark of anger in his eyes. She gave a little shiver and a sigh and closed her eyes, remembering the delicious feel of his hand touching her face. Oh, the thrill when he had wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to him! It was the most romantic thing that had ever happened to her. Just thinking about his masculine frame pressed against her with such shocking intimacy made her feel flushed and tingly all over.

And as if that hadn’t been exciting enough, there was the note. So daring of him to slip it into her hand right under Robert’s nose, but though that happened over an hour ago, she still hadn’t had the opportunity to read it, for she hadn’t been out of Robert’s sight a single minute. After leaving the National Gallery, they had come straight back to the Savoy, and he’d ushered her directly into the tearoom where Millicent, Edith, and Stephen had been waiting for them.

“You don’t seem particularly enthused, Prudence, dear.”

“Hmm? What?” At the mention of her name, she jerked upright in her chair. “I was woolgathering, I’m afraid, Cousin Millicent.” She tried to look attentive. “What did you say?”

“I have obtained vouchers for us to attend Lady Amberly’s charity ball two nights hence. Rather a coup, if I do say so myself,” she added, trying and failing to appear modest about it. “This is one of the important events of the season, and most of the vouchers were given weeks ago. Yet, you seem uninterested.”

She would have been very interested if the Duke of St. Cyres planned to attend, but she didn’t suppose it would go over very well if she inquired about the matter. She thought again of the note and felt as if it were burning a hole in her pocket. The suspense became intolerable.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, and pressed a hand to her forehead. “But I’ve developed the most beastly headache. I think I shall go to my room and lie down for a bit, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, dear.” Edith put down her teacup, eyeing her with concern. “Yes, go have a lie-down. You don’t want to miss the theater tonight.”

Trying to look as if she were in genuine pain, Prudence gave everyone a wan smile and departed from the tearoom, forcing herself not to run for the elevator.

“Fourth floor, please,” she told the boy attending the lift, and the iron grill of the door had barely slid across before Prudence was reaching into her pocket. The elevator jerked into motion, and as she read the words the duke had written, her heart gave a leap as well.

I must see you again. Meet me at Richmond Station. Noon tomorrow.

She gave a cry of delight, earning herself a curious look from the boy who attended the lift. She smothered her exuberance long enough to arrive at the fourth floor, but as the lift sank out of sight, Prudence read his words once more and her delight came flooding back, stronger than ever.

He wanted to see her again.

She laughed out loud, and as she went down the corridor to her suite, she felt as if she were dancing on air.



Prudence’s blissful mood was not lost on Nancy Woddell. “You seemed to enjoy your outing today, miss,” the maid commented, her pretty freckled face breaking into a smile as she watched Prudence fall back onto her bed with a happy sigh.

“I had a wonderful day, Woddell. I hope you did as well?”

“I did, miss, thank you. Some of your new gowns arrived from Madame Marceau’s showroom, and they are ever so nice. Would you like to see them?”

Prudence at once began to wonder which of her lovely new dresses she should wear for her rendezvous with the duke on the morrow. “Oh, yes, bring them out.”

The maid vanished into the dressing room and returned moments later with two evening gowns. “One of these might be nice for the theater tonight,” she said, holding up the ivory damask and the blue-black velvet.

They were both lovely, but at the moment she couldn’t summon much interest in evening gowns. “What about the black and white outing dress? Did that come?”

“The stripe?” Woddell sounded surprised. “Yes, miss, that came as well.”

“Excellent!” Prudence sat up. “Bring that one out, would you? And the hat. It’s red straw, if I remember, with black, red, and white ribbons. It is red, isn’t it?”

“Yes, miss, but—” The maid hesitated, looking uncertain. “It’s to the theater you’re going tonight, isn’t that right?”

She didn’t care about tonight. “What a pity I didn’t order an outing dress in red,” she murmured. “Well, the red hat will have to do.”

“Miss?”

Prudence looked up and laughed at the maid’s obvious bewilderment. “It’s all right, Woddell. I haven’t lost my senses. Yes, I’m going to the theater tonight. But tomorrow I’m going on a picnic, and I want to try on my new outing dress to be sure it fits. By the way, I’ll be out all afternoon, so once you’ve finished your duties, you have my permission to take the remainder of the day for yourself.”

“Thank you, miss,” the maid said, and returned the evening gowns to the dressing room. A moment later she brought out the dress her mistress wanted.

A short while later Prudence stood before the long mirror in her pretty new outing dress and hat and gave a sigh of pure pleasure. The gown suited her figure perfectly, with its simple lines and vertical stripes. It was always wonderful to wear something she hadn’t had to make herself, and there was such bliss in fine silk lingerie and sheer silk stockings. She had never felt prettier.

Satisfied, she had Woddell return the outfit to the dressing room. After changing into evening undergarments, she asked the maid to press the blue-black velvet, then she sat down at her dressing table.

Red’s my favorite color.

Prudence smiled, but before she could do any more daydreaming about a certain duke, the door to her bedroom opened and Aunt Edith came in.

“My dear niece, I am so distraught.”

That did not bode well. “Indeed,” Prudence murmured, and pretended vast interest in the toiletry articles of her dressing table. “I’m sorry to hear it. I’m feeling much better after my…ahem…nap. Perhaps you should follow my example and lie down for a bit.”

Edith did not seem enamored of that suggestion. She bustled across the crimson, cream, and gold carpet and came to a halt beside the dressing table. “Robert has told me that St. Cyres accosted you at the National Gallery this afternoon.” One hand fluttered up to her heart. “To think that dreadful man dared to impose himself upon you again. Oh, what shall we do? Perhaps Stephen should speak with him.”

“I should hardly describe the incident as an imposition, Aunt. I encountered the duke at the gallery, and we took a stroll together. Why would that cause you such distress?”

She should never have asked.

Edith reached for the nearest chair, an ornate, gilded affair with a straight back and a seat of emerald green velvet. She pulled it close to the dressing table and sat down beside Prudence.

“Millicent has been telling me more about him. After he paid such attention to you at the opera, she felt compelled to make inquiries, and her information confirms what we suspected, and worse. My dear, the man is notorious. His affairs with women, his gambling.” She glanced toward the open door that led to Prudence’s dressing room, then leaned closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Opium dens,” she hissed.

Prudence pressed her lips together, ducking her head with a choked sound.

Edith sat back with an aggrieved sigh. “You are laughing at me. No, no, don’t deny it,” she added as Prudence felt compelled to protest. “You do not take what I say seriously. I am not a good chaperone for you, I fear. Everything is so difficult nowadays. When Beryl and Pearl were coming out, it was so much easier.”

It was obvious Edith had forgotten all the fretting and fussing she had done when Beryl and Pearl began attending balls and parties. Prudence murmured an innocuous reply and reached for her hairbrush.

“Oh, let me do that, darling.” Edith took the silver-backed brush from her hand, rose from her chair and moved to stand behind her. “We weren’t in London when the girls came out,” she explained, as if reading her niece’s mind. She draped the dark strands of Prudence’s long, straight hair behind the chair back and began to brush it out. “Country dances and parties among friends are so much safer, I feel. London is filled with all manner of decadent goings-on.”

Prudence did not point out that Edith hadn’t had any such misgivings about London when her niece had moved here, alone, to live unchaperoned in a lodging house and work for her own living. She had been quite relieved at the time. To remind her aunt of such things now, however, would only gain her that wounded spaniel look at which her aunt so excelled. So Prudence leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, leaving Edith to chat unhappily on about the evils of London and the stresses of being a chaperone, while she indulged in the far more pleasurable pastime of imagining her rendezvous with the duke.

As she thought of it, anticipation rose within her like the effervescent bubbles in a glass of champagne. To spend an entire afternoon with him, to talk with him, to see him smile—