by Amanda Quick
“Nonsense. This whole thing is some sort of scheme designed solely to torment your family.” Drucilla rose to her feet. “Even I, who know what sort of behavior to expect from your side of the family, cannot bring myself to believe that you would actually present your false evidence to the authorities.”
“You think not?” Sebastian smiled. “But it would be so very amusing, would it not? Just imagine what the papers would say if a Fleetwood went on trial for murder. Just imagine what the ton would say.”
“Sebastian.” Prudence wanted to strangle him.
Drucilla looked at Sebastian. “I do not think you would allow an innocent young man to die simply in order to amuse yourself, sir. Not even you would stoop so low for the sake of revenge.”
“What if he is not so innocent?” Sebastian asked softly.
Drucilla started for the door. “Do not be a complete ass, Angelstone. My son had no reason to kill those two men.”
Prudence realized that Sebastian was about to argue. She sent him a warning look as she frantically yanked the bell rope to summon Flowers. “Good day to you, Mrs. Fleetwood. I know this has been an unpleasant experience. I want to assure you once again that Angelstone will take care of the situation.”
“See to it.” Drucilla peered at Prudence’s gown as Flowers opened the door. “By the way, lavender is utterly atrocious on you, madam. It makes you look quite drab.”
Prudence saw Sebastian take his booted feet down off the desk. “Thank you for your opinion, Mrs. Fleetwood,” she said hurriedly. “I shall keep it in mind when I shop.”
“And you had best get a new modiste.” Drucilla swept toward the open door. “That gown you wore to the Hollington ball last night was positively indecent. Not at all suitable to your station. You were hanging out of it like a demirep dressed for the opera.”
Sebastian was on his feet now. “Goddamn it, my wife can wear what she bloody well wants to wear.”
“Angelstone, please,” Prudence said, “last night you held the same opinion of my gown, if you will but recall.”
“That’s different.” He strode swiftly across the room, his expression lethal as he bore down on his aunt. “Have you anything else to say about my wife’s clothes, madam?”
“I do not know why you have taken offense, Angelstone.” Drucilla glanced back from the doorway. “That dress was a disgrace. One could almost see your wife’s nipples. It was the sort of gown an actress would wear.”
Sebastian’s eyes gleamed like hellfire.
Prudence threw herself into his path. “Perhaps you had better take your leave, Mrs. Fleetwood,” she called over her shoulder.
“I certainly have no reason to stay here.” Drucilla went past Flowers and out into the hall. She seemed oblivious of the danger.
Flowers took one look at his master’s face and discreetly pulled the door closed with a quick jerk.
“That damned bitch.” Sebastian shook off Prudence’s clinging hands. “I’ll see her and her whole brood in hell. Jeremy can swing, for all I care. They can all swing.”
“Sebastian, no, wait, you don’t mean that. Stop.” Prudence dashed ahead of him and flung herself in front of the door. She stood with her back to it, arms stretched out to form a barricade.
“Get out of my way, Prue.”
“Listen to me. The reason she resents you so much is because she was in love with your father.”
“Have you lost your wits? She hated my father.”
“Because he married another. Don’t you understand? She was in love with him and he ran off with another woman. Then you come along and claim the title. No wonder she has never forgiven him. Or you.”
Sixteen
e reasonable, Sebastian,” Prudence panted as she braced herself in front of the door. “What would you do to her if you went after her? She’s a woman and she’s at least twenty years your senior. You cannot touch her and you know it.”
“I am not going to put a hand on her.” Sebastian was seething with anger. “I am merely going to inform the old bitch that I intend to cut off most of her income from the Angelstone fortune. I may also cut off the allowances of the rest of the family while I’m at it, for good measure.”
“Because of her comments on my clothes?” Prudence looked at him in disbelief.
“She insulted you.”
“She did not insult me. She was kind enough to offer her expert advice.”
“Advice?”
“She is considered highly fashionable. Hester told me so. She knows what she’s talking about,” Prudence said.
“She insulted you to your face. In front of me, no less.”
“Yes, well, as it happens, I agree with her about this particular gown.” Prudence shook out the skirts of her dress. “I have never particularly cared for lavender. I only ordered this shade because I was told it was all the rage. And I did wonder about all these flounces. Your aunt is quite right. I shall have to change my modiste.”
“Bloody hell” Sebastian heard the sound of Drucilla’s carriage wheels in the street outside the front door. It was too late to go after her, even if he managed to peel Prudence out of the doorway. He turned on his heel and stalked back to his desk. “The woman is a bitch.”
“I will not allow you to use a few petty remarks about my attire as an excuse to take your revenge, Sebastian.”
“No?” He dropped into his chair and put his feet back on the desk.
“No.” Prudence moved slowly away from the door. She pushed her spectacles higher on her nose, blinked several times, and swallowed hard. She focused intently on the fireplace. “I told you that I do not want to be used in that fashion. It is unworthy of you, my lord.”
Sebastian eyed her with a sense of savage frustration. Then he frowned as she took a hankie out of her pocket and dabbed at the corner of her eye.
“Devil take it, Prue, are you crying again?”
“No, of course not.” She shoved the hankie back into her pocket. “I just had something in my eye. I believe it’s gone now.”
Sebastian knew she was lying. “You don’t understand,” he said roughly. He did not look at her. He was afraid he would see more tears.
Prudence sniffed. “What don’t I understand?”
Sebastian struggled to find a way to explain what he was only now just beginning to comprehend himself. “It was not revenge for the past that was on my mind a few minutes ago when I tried to go after my aunt.”
“If you were not looking for an excuse to punish her because of what happened in the past, why were you so upset by her comments on my gowns?” Prudence’s voice sounded steadier now.
Sebastian decided it was safe to look at her again. He did so cautiously, hoping against hope that he would find her dry-eyed.
She was. She stood watching him solemnly, her hands clasped in front of her. Her eyes were clear and intent behind the lenses of her spectacles.
Sebastian was vastly relieved. “I was angry simply because of the insult to you.”
“To me?” She looked surprised. “That’s all there was to it?”
“She had no right to talk to you the way she did.” Sebastian looked down as Lucifer vaulted lightly onto his lap. He started to stroke the cat.
Prudence smiled, looking vastly relieved herself. “It was nothing, Sebastian. Her small offense was certainly not worth the sort of retaliation you had in mind.”
“I’m not so certain of that.” Sebastian paused. “What was all that nonsense about her being in love with my father?”
“My intuition together with some of the things she said before you arrived lead me to believe that to be the case.” Prudence sat down across from him. “It is very sad, is it not?”
“I cannot imagine my aunt being in love with anyone.”
“I can.” Prudence leaned back in her chair. “Now, then, let us resolve this issue of what to do about Jeremy once and for all. I don’t want you keeping everyone, including me, on tenterhooks just because it amuses you to do so.”
Sebastian toyed with the silver-plated wax jack that he used to melt sealing wax. “I’m still making inquiries.”
“I rather suspected you were. You are going to help Jeremy, aren’t you?”
“I suppose so.”
“Do you mind if I ask why?”
“Does it matter?” Sebastian was thoroughly irritated by the question.
Prudence smiled apologetically. “I cannot help being curious. It is my nature, you know. Are you going to continue your investigation because you feel it is your responsibility to your family?”
“Hell and damnation. No.”
Disappointment dampened her smile of expectation. “I see. Then is it because your own curiosity is aroused to such a degree that you cannot resist learning the answers?”
Sebastian shrugged. “That is no doubt part of it.” He scratched Lucifer’s ears. “But not the whole of it.”
“Are you doing it because it amuses you to continue the investigation?”
“Goddamn it, Prue, I’m doing it because of you.” Sebastian shoved aside the wax jack. “There. Does that satisfy you?”
She stared at him. “You’re going to help Jeremy because I want you to do so?”
“Yes,” he said. “I am in a mood to indulge my new bride. What is so unusual about that?”
She frowned. “I see. You’re doing this because it amuses you to indulge me.”
“As everyone knows, I am inclined to take pleasure in some very odd forms of amusement.”
“But Sebastian—”
There was a discreet knock on the library door. Sebastian was profoundly relieved by the interruption. “Enter.”
Flowers cautiously opened the door. He was carrying a small silver salver that held a folded note. His dour face relaxed somewhat when he saw that the lord and lady of the house had not come to blows.
“Your pardon, madam, m’lord. A message has arrived for Lady Angelstone.”
“For me? I wonder who could have sent it.” Prudence leaped to her feet and hurried across the room before Flowers could get to her.
Her impulsiveness caused Flowers to heave a long-suffering sigh. He handed over the note and backed out of the library.
Sebastian watched as Prudence tore open the seal. She charmed him, he thought. Or perhaps enthralled was the right word. Everything about her worked on him like a magic spell, driving out the cold. Her animated face, her feminine vitality, her passionate sincerity, all warmed him from the inside out.
“Good heavens, Sebastian.” Prudence looked up from the note. Her face was tense with excitement. “It’s from Lord Bloomfield.”
“Bloomfield? What the devil does he want?” Sebastian put Lucifer aside. He got to his feet and swiftly crossed the room to snap the note out of Prudence’s hand. He scanned the spidery handwriting.
MY DEAR LADY ANGELSTONE,
I desire to consult with you in your professional capacity. The matter is of an extremely urgent nature. It concerns recent occurrences involving spectral phenomena. I would call upon you but I suffer from nervous sickness and find it difficult to travel even short distances. Would it therefore be possible for you to call on me tomorrow morning at eleven? I shall be extremely grateful.
Yrs .
C. H. BLOOMFIELD.
“He refers to recent occurrences of spectral phenomena.” Prudence’s eyes narrowed with speculation. “Do you suppose he is referring to the deaths of the other two Princes of Virtue?”
“Bloomfield is said to be extremely odd, perhaps quite mad. It’s possible that after learning of the deaths of Ring-cross and Oxenham he might have convinced himself that Lillian’s ghost has come back.”
“He wouldn’t be the only one who believes that,” Prudence reminded him. “That is exactly what that poor old man who called himself Halfwit Higgins believed.”
Sebastian studied the note. “Either Bloomfield is as mad as rumor claims he is, or else this is a ruse to lure you to his house.”
“A ruse? Why on earth would he want to lure me to his home?”
“I don’t know. One thing is for certain: You are not going to go there alone.”
“Of course I won’t go alone. I shall take my maid.”
“No,” Sebastian said. “You will take me.”
“I am not at all certain I wish to take you with me, my lord. This is my area of expertise, after all.”
“God knows you have meddled enough in my end of the investigation.” Sebastian refolded Bloomfield’s note. “The least you can do is allow me to meddle a bit in your area of expertise. Now you must excuse me, my dear. I am off to my club.”
“But we were in the middle of a very interesting conversation before Flowers brought in that note. I wish to continue it.”
“Sorry, Prue. Told Sutton I’d meet him.” Sebastian kissed her lightly on the mouth and then headed toward the door. “I also want to observe Curling to see if he appears as anxious as Whistlecroft says he is.”
“Whistlecroft said he was anxious?” Prudence followed Sebastian out into the hall. “You never told me that.”
“I have not had the opportunity. If you will recall, you were busy entertaining my aunt when I returned.” Sebastian collected his hat and gloves from Flowers. “Do not wait up for me, madam. I shall be late getting home tonight.”
“Angelstone, wait.” Prudence cast a quick glance at Flowers, who looked as if he had gone deaf. She took a few quick steps forward and lowered her voice. “My lord, we were in the midst of a rather important conversation a few minutes ago. I should very much like to continue it.”
“Later, perhaps.”
“Angelstone, are you trying to avoid me?”
“Of course not, madam. Why would I wish to avoid you?”
For the second time that day, Sebastian escaped through the front door of his home. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Flowers close it behind him.
The last thing he wanted to do was finish the conversation he and Prue had been involved in before Bloomfield’s note had arrived, he reflected. He was not entirely certain why he was afraid to pursue it. He only knew that he did not want Prudence asking any more pointed questions about why he was continuing the investigation.
He had allowed her to think it amused him to indulge her in the matter, but he knew that was not the whole truth. The reality was that she had become so important to him that she had acquired an incredible amount of power over him. He would do almost anything to please her. That knowledge worried him.
No one had wielded any real emotional power over him since that cold, fog-shrouded dawn in the mountains of Saragstan. He had built a barrier of ice against any possible threat. The cold place he had constructed had protected him until now, but he knew that somewhere inside him the thaw had begun. The sunlight Prudence had brought into his life was having an insidious effect.
Sebastian craved her warmth, yet he feared it. He knew there was a very real possibility that if the ice inside him was completely destroyed he might discover that there was nothing at all left to fill up the empty space.
Yet even as he feared the dark nothingness that might be waiting where the cold was now, he ached to know what Prudence was feeling for him. He needed to know if she was drawn to him by anything deeper than mutual interests and shared passion.
He wondered if she would ever be able to love him.
Shortly before midnight Sebastian walked out of the card room of his club. He had spent the past three hours playing whist with several inebriated members in hopes of learning something useful about Ringcross and Oxenham. There had been gossip aplenty about the deaths, but no one spoke the word murder. No one mentioned The Princes of Virtue, either. All in all, it had been a wasted three hours.
“Ah, there you are, Angelstone.” Garrick strolled across the room to join him in front of the hearth. “I was wondering if you were still about. Any luck in there?” He nodded in the direction of the card room.
“A bit.” Sebastian shrugged. “I won a th
ousand pounds off Evans and probably could have won a great deal more, but I was too bored to continue the play. No challenge to the sport. The man was so cup-shot he could barely hold his cards.”
It occurred to Sebastian that he had not told Garrick about his latest case. He realized that there were two reasons why he had not confided in his friend. The first was that the investigation involved a Fleetwood and he knew without asking that Prudence would not want him discussing it with outsiders. In truth he had no wish to do so. Like it or not, it was a family matter.
The second reason he had not talked to Garrick about the investigation was that he no longer needed a confidant. He had Prudence.
“Speaking of cup-shot,” Garrick said quietly, “there comes Curling. He looks like he can barely stand upright.”
Sebastian watched Curling walk through the door of the club with the overly careful stride of a very drunk man. “One does not often see him in that condition.”
Garrick held out his hands to the fire. “The last time I saw him in such a condition was about three months ago. We both wound up at a card table together after a long night of drinking. I cannot remember much about it, but I seem to recall that he was as drunk as I.”
“I believe I remember the evening in question.” Sebastian watched Curling lower himself gingerly into a chair. “It was the following morning that you informed me you intended to give up drinking for a while.”
Garrick’s mouth tightened. “I swear to you, Angelstone, I never again want to get into the condition I was in that night. I don’t like the feeling of not being able to recall what I said or did. And I definitely do not want to ever again feel as ill as I did the next day.”
“You say Curling was just as deep into his cups that night?”
“Yes. His coachman is responsible for getting us both home,” Garrick said in a tone of self-disgust.