Dangerous

by Amanda Quick

  He looked surprised at the question. “I cannot think of a better foundation.”

  “Some might say that love would be a nice addition to the list,” she whispered tentatively.

  “Love?” His eyes narrowed in disapproval, as if she had not only startled him but also disappointed him. “Come, now, Prue, surely you are not the victim of a romantic nature. I refuse to credit the notion that an intelligent, perceptive, very clever female such as yourself is foolish enough to believe in something as vague and illusory as love.”

  She swallowed uneasily. “Well—”

  “You and I rely on our intellects, not our emotions,” he continued ruthlessly. “We unravel mysteries and search for evidence. Our logical brains are not prey to the fevered fancies that excite the likes of Byron and his crowd.”

  “Granted. Nevertheless—”

  “Rest assured, my dear, I have far too much respect for you to allow myself to believe that you actually seek to fall in love before you marry. Love is for silly young girls fresh out of the schoolroom. A mature, responsible, intelligent woman such as yourself does not indulge in such fancies.”

  Prudence nearly choked. “Yes, I know, but the thing is, Sebastian—”

  “After all, there is much less evidence for the existence of love than there is for the existence of spectral phenomena.”

  “I wouldn’t say that, my lord,” she argued earnestly. “Love has been the motivating force behind a great many historical occurrences. People commit crimes for love. They are sometimes made ill by it. Surely there is ample evidence to suggest it exists.”

  “Nonsense. The motivating force you refer to is passion. Or, to be perfectly blunt, lust.” He traced the outline of her lips with his finger.

  Prudence’s spirits sank. “Do you feel some affection for me, Sebastian?”

  “Naturally,” he said roughly. “That goes without saying.”

  “It does?” Affection wasn’t love, but one might be able to turn it into love, she told herself optimistically.

  “What about you?” he asked casually. “Do you feel some degree of affection for me? As distinct from that which you feel toward my hobby, that is?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “Yes, definitely. I am really quite fond of you, Sebastian.”

  “And I am rather fond of you. What more could either of us ask? We are two like-minded people who share mutual intellectual interests and mutual passion. We shall do very well together. Now, then, say that you will marry me as soon as I can make the arrangements.”

  “Why must we hurry the thing along? Could we not wait and give our mutual affection a chance to mature?” Prudence asked weakly.

  “I think that would not only be a waste of time, but also potentially awkward.”

  “Awkward? How?”

  “Surely you know the answer to that. Use your considerable intelligence, Prue. You might very well turn up pregnant after what just transpired between us.”

  Prudence stared at him as the reality of what he had just said struck her. “Good heavens. I had not thought of that.”

  “You may be certain I have,” Sebastian said flatly. “Having been called a bastard often enough myself, I am not about to have my son or daughter labeled as such.”

  “No, of course not. I quite understand.” And she did, Prudence thought.

  Sebastian’s cold pride and arrogance had caused him to fling the question of his own legitimacy into the very teeth of his family and of society. But that same arrogant pride would make him equally determined that no child of his carried the stigma.

  Sebastian looked at her from beneath half-lowered lashes. “Well, then, Prue? Do we have another bargain? Will you marry me?”

  Prudence took a deep breath and thrust aside her doubts and hesitations. The risk she was about to take was worth it, she assured herself. She was going to marry the man she loved.

  “I will marry you, Sebastian.”

  Something that might have been relief flared in his eyes. But his voice remained cool and even slightly amused, as usual. “An eminently logical, rational decision, my sweet. I expected no less from you, of course.”

  “Of course,” Prudence muttered. But inside she shivered with hope and dread.

  A frightening sense of foreboding wrapped itself around her. She knew that if she was wrong about Sebastian’s feelings for her, she had just bargained away her entire future and perhaps her very soul to the Fallen Angel.

  Ten

  our days later Garrick confronted Sebastian in his favorite club. “So, Angelstone, how is married life?”

  Sebastian glanced up from the copy of the Morning Post that he was perusing. He fixed Garrick with a baleful look.

  “I have learned a great deal about wives during the past few days,” Sebastian said. “You may be interested to know, for instance, that even the most intelligent among them is not always logical in her thinking.”

  Garrick put down his cup of coffee and grinned. “Squabbling with your lady already? For shame, Angelstone. One would think that at this stage you would still be making an effort to present your best side to Lady Angelstone. Time enough to let her see the real you later.”

  Sebastian swore softly as he recalled the small but lively scene that had ensued that morning when he had announced over breakfast that he intended to spend the day visiting tobacconists. Flowers had just finished pouring their tea and had left them alone.

  Prudence’s lovely eyes had shone with enthusiasm behind her spectacles. “You are going to try to identify the person for whom that special mixture of snuff is blended?”

  “Yes.” Sebastian sliced into a plump sausage. “Now that the business of our wedding is settled and we have got you moved in here with me, I believe we can at last get on with our investigation.”

  Her gaze turned curiously opaque. “Poor Sebastian,” she murmured. “You had no notion of the commotion our wedding would cause, did you? I expect you thought you could simply put an announcement in the papers and that would be the end of it.”

  “There is a great deal of unnecessary nonsense associated with weddings which I had not anticipated,” he said, “but I am hopeful that the worst is behind us.”

  In truth, they had not had any peace since their return to London, Sebastian thought, vastly annoyed. He had fully intended to spend the majority of his free time during the past four days in bed with his new wife. The polite world deemed otherwise. To his disgust, he had discovered that weddings— even quiet, uncomplicated ones—generated a great deal of fuss and attention.

  On the morning of the wedding Hester had cheerfully reminded him that the marriage was bound to create a sensation among the ton. She had been accurate in her prediction. There had been a steady stream of visitors to Sebastian’s town house. A new mountain of cards and invitations arrived every morning. The presence of Lord and Lady Angelstone was requested at every soiree and ball in Town.

  Sebastian had been strongly inclined to ignore every visitor and all the invitations. But Prudence had put her dainty foot down on that notion. His reputation for ill-mannered behavior was bad enough, she had explained. She was not going to see it savaged any further simply because he could not be bothered with a few social niceties.

  “Do you regret our marriage, then?” Prudence had inquired in a suspiciously neutral voice from the far end of the breakfast table.

  “What an idiotic question. Of course not. We are perfectly suited, as I have gone to great lengths to explain.” He eyed her warily, wondering what had made her ask such a question. The possibility that she, herself, had a few regrets made him once more aware of the cold place inside himself.

  He did not see how she could doubt for a moment that she belonged with him. She looked right at home sitting there at the other end of the breakfast table. The morning sun streamed through the window behind her. It turned her hair the color of the warm honey that was in the little pot next to the toast. A shaft of lazy desire went through Sebastian as he remembered how Prude
nce’s hair had looked earlier when it was fanned out across the white pillows of his bed.

  “I shall accompany you to interview the tobacconists,” Prudence announced.

  “No, you will not.” He forked up another bite of sausage. “I intend to make as much progress as possible today. There is no way of knowing how many shops I shall be required to visit.”

  “Are you saying I will hinder your investigations?” Prudence’s brows snapped together in a straight line across the rim of her spectacles. “I would remind you that we are supposed to be a team, sir.”

  Sebastian knew it was time to tread warily. He was rapidly learning the business of being a husband, he thought wryly.

  “You misunderstand me, my dear.” He smiled benignly. “The fact of the matter is that if the pair of us are seen visiting a series of tobacconists, someone might notice and think it odd. Questions might be asked.”

  “Perhaps I could disguise myself as a footman or a groom. No one would question my presence if I looked like a member of your household staff, would they?”

  “My entire household staff would certainly wonder about it,” Sebastian said brusquely. “Not to mention anyone else who might chance to recognize you.” The thought of Prudence traipsing about in men’s attire sent a wave of outrage through him.

  Prudence frowned in thought. “I think it would work very well, my lord. I believe that after breakfast I shall just nip downstairs and see what I can find in the way of livery.”

  At that point Sebastian abandoned strategy and diplomacy and fell back on ruthless threats.

  “If you try that trick, madam, I promise you I will find myself unable to accompany you to the Arlington ball tonight.”

  “Sebastian, you wouldn’t.” Acute dismay filled her eyes. “You must put in an appearance tonight. I am told that several members of your family will be there, including your aunt and your cousin Jeremy.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, that is an excellent reason for not putting in an appearance. In any event, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Lady Arlington has deliberately planned her damned ball with the express purpose of producing a scene for the ton.”

  “Come, now, Sebastian, that is highly unlikely. She is trying to be polite.”

  “My dear, you may be very intelligent, but you are amazingly naive at times.”

  “Lady Arlington’s ball will be the first occasion on which the members of your family will all be gathered together in public. If you don’t turn up, the Fleetwoods will be humiliated in front of the ton.”

  He was thoroughly amused. “Do you think that matters to me?”

  “You are being deliberately difficult, my lord. You know perfectly well that if you fail to show up tonight it will add fuel to the notion that there is a feud within your family.”

  “The feud is very real, Prue.” Sebastian put down his knife and folded his arms on the table. “And you would be well advised to remember just which side you are on. Furthermore, it would be most unwise of you to try to play peacemaker. I want no part of the Fleetwoods, and that’s final.”

  “Really, Sebastian.”

  “Yes, really.” Having taken his stand, Sebastian knew better than to back down. Prudence would spot any weakness in his defenses in an instant. “Now, then, if you wish me to put in an appearance at the Arlington ball, you had best forget any notion of dressing up in a footman’s livery.”

  “Now, see here, Angelstone, just because we happen to be married, you must not get the idea that you can start giving orders and making threats in the manner of ordinary husbands.”

  He gave her a cool, quizzical smile. “You do not consider me an ordinary husband?”

  “Certainly not.” She refolded her napkin and set it beside her plate with an air of grave precision. “Our alliance is supposed to be a partnership. Two like-minded individuals joined together by the bonds of mutual interests, if you will recall.”

  “I recall the terms of our bargain very well.” Sebastian got to his feet.

  Prudence watched warily as he walked toward her. “Sebastian?”

  Sebastian said nothing. When he reached the far end of the table he leaned down and kissed Prudence full on her surprised mouth. She tasted delicious. He had a sudden urge to make love to her right there on the breakfast table. The only thing that stopped him was the realization that Flowers could enter the room at any moment.

  “As you said, ours is an alliance based on mutual interests.” He brushed his mouth across hers again and felt her tremble in response. “And some of our mutual interests were particularly stimulating last night. I look forward to more of the same tonight.”

  She glowered at him suspiciously through her spectacles. “Do not think that you can manipulate me with … with I hat sort of thing, Angelstone.”

  “What sort of thing would that be? This, perhaps?” He nibbled her earlobe and let his hand drift down over the modest fichu that filled in the bodice of her brown and white striped morning gown.

  “You know precisely what I mean, sir.”

  “Do I?” He palmed her breast and was well satisfied by the response he got. Prudence’s cheeks turned pink and a delightfully flustered look replaced the wifely chastisement in her eyes.

  “Be off with you,” she muttered. “And do not forget the Arlington ball tonight or I shall never forgive you.”

  Sebastian now smiled faintly at the memory of the morning and poured himself another cup of coffee from the pot he and Garrick were sharing.

  As he sipped his coffee, he contemplated the thought of Prudence seated opposite him at breakfast every morning for the rest of their lives and wondered how he had ever gotten along without her there.

  Garrick scanned the advertisements in the paper he was reading. “Thought I’d take myself off to Tattersall’s after a bit and see what they’re offering. I could use a good hunter.” He looked up. “What will you be about today?”

  “I have some business to attend to.”

  “Ah, I recognize that tone in your voice.” Garrick grinned briefly. “It is the one you use when you are in the process of conducting one of your little investigations. Pray do not tell me that you are so bored with married life already that you must seek out your old amusements.”

  “I assure you, married life is anything but dull. But I have not given up my hobby.”

  “I see.” Garrick eyed him curiously. “Does your lady know what you do to entertain yourself?”

  “She knows.”

  “And approves?”

  “She has no complaints,” Sebastian said.

  Garrick chuckled. “I congratulate you, Angelstone. I do believe you have married the one woman in all of England who is capable of understanding you.”

  “I am certain of it.”

  The only thing that worried Sebastian was that Prudence might not be as well satisfied with married life as he was.

  He told himself that the matter was settled. Prudence belonged to him now. He had claimed her under the law and in the privacy of the marriage bed. And she had given herself to him with a willing passion that should have reassured him.

  But sometimes he would catch her watching him with a strange wistfulness that made him uneasy. He could not forget her words that night at Curling Castle. Some might say that love would be a nice addition to the list.

  For all her intellect and her admirable powers of logic, Prudence was a woman. Sebastian suspected that she had a woman’s romantic attitude toward marriage. She had wanted to marry for love.

  He was well aware that he had deliberately coerced Prudence into a hasty wedding. He had done so using all the weapons at his command. He had justified the ruthless tactics by telling himself that she would be happy with him.

  She was old enough and intelligent enough to realize that whatever emotion she had felt for Underbrink was fleeting and insubstantial. In any event, the pompous ass had betrayed her affections. She could never trust Underbrink again. Surely she knew that.

  At f
our o’clock that afternoon a portion of Sebastian’s brain was still pondering the unexpected dilemmas posed by marriage. But a good deal of his attention was now focused on a more immediate problem.

  Thus far he had visited nearly half a dozen tobacconists in a fruitless search to find one who could identify the blend of snuff in the small snuffbox Prudence had discovered in the black chamber.

  It had seemed a relatively simple task when he had set out on his mission. But thus far no one recognized the blend.

  He went up the steps of one R. H. Goodwright, tobacconist, without much hope. Goodwright was number six on Sebastian’s list.

  Sebastian glanced at the life-size wooden carving of a Highlander that guarded the shop entrance. The statue’s dress was painted in the colors of a famous regiment. The popular symbol of the snuff dealer’s trade was similar to the five other wooden Highlanders Sebastian had already seen that afternoon.

  If he did not have any luck here, Sebastian decided, he would have to seek out less successful establishments in less fashionable streets. He had been working on the assumption that whoever had lost the snuffbox had been a member of the ton and therefore shopped in the better establishments. Sebastian could not envision Curling inviting anyone to Curling Castle who did not move in fashionable circles.

  Sebastian opened the door and walked into the small shop. The aroma of the well-aged tobacco stored in glass cases and in wooden barrels engulfed him. Clay pipes were prominently displayed on one counter. On another counter a selection of small snuffboxes was arranged. Sebastian took a closer look at them but saw none as fine as the one he was investigating.

  “How may I serve you, sir?” inquired a raspy voice.

  Sebastian looked around and saw a plump, white-haired, heavily whiskered man wearing a green apron and a pair of gold spectacles. The shopkeeper’s pudgy fingers were stained yellow from years of handling tobacco.

  “I’m trying to discover the name of this particular blend of snuff.” Sebastian plucked the snuffbox out of the pocket of his greatcoat and held it out to the shopkeeper. “An acquaintance gave me enough to fill this box, but I shall soon run out and would like to order more. It’s quite distinctive. Do you happen to recognize it?”