For the Love of the Gentleman

by Hutton, Callie

  Therefore, he did what he did best and pulled her across the space separating them, tucked her in alongside his body, and took her mouth in a searing kiss.

  Heaven.

  This gently bred lady of the ton, who had dared to defy Society by refusing all offers of marriage over the years and was now ready to display her art publicly, was quite disturbed at not kissing him again.

  Her warm lips opened and he swept in. She tasted sweet and minty. He cupped her face and tilted her head to take the kiss deeper, nibbling on her lips until he plunged inside once again. Her hands crept up his arms, and she eventually encircled his neck, tugging on the hair that hung over his cravat.

  They were so engrossed in their passion that the carriage had rolled to a stop in front of her townhouse without them noticing. Suddenly aware, Ash pulled back and sucked in a deep breath. “Lady Prudence. We’re at your house.”

  “Call me Pru.”

  He shook her shoulders lightly, glancing from her confused expression to her parents who had just alighted their carriage. “Pru, come, we must join your parents.”

  She smiled. “Yes. Of course.” After a moment, she sat up and straightened her pelisse, patting the sides of her hair. “I’m ready.”

  It was his turn to grin at her. The door to the carriage opened and he stepped out, turning to help her out. Luckily, she had composed herself and looked perfectly normal. He, on the other hand, was grateful for his greatcoat which covered the part of him he did not wish her parents to see.

  “Join me in my study for a small drink before we meet with the ladies for luncheon, my boy.” Lord Pomeroy slapped him on his back as they joined him and his wife to stroll up the steps to the front door.

  The two ladies disappeared, and he and his lordship entered a comfortable looking room. The last time he’d been in the Pomeroy townhouse, his lordship had hosted him in the library, but this room had more of a masculine feel to it. Two large, comfortable chairs sat in front of the warming fireplace. Dark wood wainscoting lined the lower walls with a deep blue-and-white-striped wallcovering above.

  Several paintings had been hung on the walls. Without seeing the artist’s signature up close, Ash identified it as Pru’s work. “I see you enjoy your daughter’s artwork.” Ash took the glass from Pomeroy’s hand.

  “Yes, indeed. Very talented is my Prudence.” They took a sip of their drink as they continued to study the various paintings around the room.

  Thinking of his mother, he asked, “Has Lady Prudence ever done portrait work? All the paintings she’s shown us are landscapes.”

  Pomeroy shook his head. “No, I don’t believe she has.”

  “It’s a very different sort of talent.”

  “Yes.” Pomeroy waved to the two chairs in front of the fireplace. “I think her artwork is brilliant. But then, I am her father.” He laughed.

  “I agree with you, sir. Mr. Goddard and I are delighted to be able to organize the show for Lady Prudence. The fact that she is an unknown artist is especially exciting. It’s always nice to introduce a new artist to the community. It is quite an honor, actually.”

  “My lord, luncheon is served, and the ladies await you in the dining room.” The man that Ash had often seen at the front door stood in the study doorway.

  “Good, good. I’m quite hungry,” Lord Pomeroy said as he placed his empty glass on the table next to the door.

  Ash followed him out, down the corridor to the dining room. Lady Pomeroy and Lady Prudence—Pru—sat at the table. Ash glanced at Pru and she smiled. All he could see were her plump lips.

  Once they were all settled, the service began and Lady Pomeroy swallowed a sip of her soup and regarded him. “Tell me, Mr. Reeves, how is it such a successful and fine-looking man as yourself is unmarried?”

  Ash was taken with a fit of coughing.

  * * *

  “Mother tells me he’s terribly handsome.” Phoebe, Prudence’s twin sister, jiggled her youngest, Lady Genevieve, on her lap. What was left of her lap, that was, since she was well into another pregnancy. The one-year-old was troubled by new teeth coming in, and Phoebe was reluctant to leave her with the nanny since she already had her hands full with Phoebe’s other daughter, four-year-old Lady Anne who had decided she was no longer interested in nap time.

  Pru was visiting the Duke and Duchess of St. Albans who had just arrived from the country to await the birth of the newest member of the family. St. Albans trusted no one except the London accoucheur who had attended the births of Genevieve and Anne. This time, his grace was certain a boy would arrive to provide the much needed heir.

  Phoebe just wanted it to be over.

  “Yes, I must admit Mr. Reeves is handsome. A bit.” Pru grinned. “Well, very, actually.”

  “And wealthy.”

  “It certainly appears so.”

  “He is.” Phoebe stood and began to walk up and down with Genevieve in her arms in an attempt to get her to sleep.

  Pru’s brows rose. “How do you know?”

  “St. Albans did some research.” She stopped. “Goodness, I’m getting dizzy.” She remained in one place and rocked back and forth, rubbing the little one’s back, who had finally stopped crying.

  “Is there a particular reason your husband decided to research Mr. Reeves?” Pru wasn’t too sure she cared for her brother-in-law’s interference. But then, since he was known throughout the ton as The Cold Duke, he was quite able to garner whatever information he wanted from those who wished to remain on his good side.

  “Oh, wipe that look off your face, Sister. When you first announced your art show, he had his man of business do a check on the gallery, its owners, and each of the partners.” She rolled her eyes. “Stop scowling. He was only looking out for your best interests. He wanted to make sure everything was as it seemed. He loves you like a sister, you know.”

  “Yes, I know. And I love him, as well as my other brothers-in-law, but you all must stop treating me like I just arrived from the schoolroom and can only get myself into trouble without someone looking over my shoulder to guide my every step.”

  “Papa asked St. Albans to do it.”

  Pru sighed. “Why must everyone think they must watch over me?” She looked at the baby slumped in Phoebe’s arms. “Is she asleep?” she whispered.

  Phoebe nodded. “I will bring her up to the nursery. Why don’t you ring for tea?” She went about two steps when she turned back. “Never mind. Let’s go to Gunter’s for tea. It will be good to get out of the house with the fine weather today.”

  The sisters chatted all the way to the famous tea shop in Berkeley Square. “I notice you were quite clever in deterring me from asking about Mr. Reeves by turning the conversation into your annoyance at my husband and other males in the family looking out for you.” Phoebe grabbed the strap alongside her head as the carriage wheels hit a hole. She gritted her teeth. “They really must fix these roads.”

  “I wasn’t deterring you, I was merely pointing out the fact that even though I don’t have a husband and numerous little ones clinging to my skirts doesn’t mean I am unable to conduct my life.” She leaned forward and looked out the window as they approached the shop. “I don’t need a man in my life to tell me what to do.”

  “My husband would never tell me what to do.” Phoebe grinned. “He knows better.”

  They gathered their belongings as the groom opened the door and helped them both out. He bowed. “Your Grace, we will await your return.”

  “Thank you, Alfred. We may be some time. Perhaps we will visit the shops for a bit after our tea.”

  “Very good, Your Grace.”

  Arm-in-arm, they entered the shop and settled at a small table near the window. “Speaking of husbands…” Phoebe removed her gloves and set them on her lap.

  “We were not speaking of husbands.” Pru looked at the handwritten menu on the wall for the special teas of the day.

  Once they ordered, Phoebe sat back in her chair and gave Pru what she’d alway
s called the now I am going to offer advice that you do not want, but nevertheless won’t stop me look.

  Pru held up her hand. “No, Phoebe. I don’t wish to hear about how much happier I would be with a husband and family. Truly. I am concentrating on my art and my art show that I am very excited about.”

  Phoebe patted her hand. “I was not going to say that. I was simply going to say if Mr. Reeves is young, handsome, and wealthy, perhaps he would appeal to you more than the other gentlemen you’ve met over the years.”

  “He is not a gentleman.”

  Phoebe waved her hand. “He is an earl’s son.”

  Their tea arrived, along with a plate of tarts and biscuits. “You certainly do know a lot. If you are in possession of that information, then you know he is the unacknowledged son of an earl.”

  “Does that bother you?” Phoebe looked up and thanked the man who placed a teapot, cups, saucers, and a tray of tempting sweets in front of them.

  Prudence poured the tea for the both of them. “No. Of course not. I was merely correcting you.”

  “You are doing it again, Sister.”

  “What?” She viewed her very bossy and nosy sister with raised brows.

  Her twin bit into a lovely lemon bar and moaned. “Um. Very good.” She fixed her eyes on Prudence. “Avoiding what I wanted to discuss.”

  “Lady Prudence, how opportune to find you here.” Mr. Reeves stood alongside their table, smiling down at her.

  Oh, lord, hopefully he hadn’t been standing there long enough to have heard their conversation.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Reeves.” She motioned to her sister. “Phoebe, may I make known to you Mr. Ashton Reeves of the Reeves and Goddard Art Gallery?” She looked back up to Ash. “My sister, Her Grace, the Duchess of St. Albans.”

  His expression didn’t change, but Pru saw the wariness in his eyes and the stiffness of his stance. He bowed. “Your Grace.”

  Phoebe held out her hand like a queen with a subject. She had certainly grown into her title. “Mr. Reeves? How interesting. My sister and I were just discussing her upcoming art show.” She motioned to the chair next to her. “Won’t you join us? I am so very anxious to hear all about the plans.”

  9

  My sister, Her Grace, the Duchess of St. Albans? And obviously her twin sister.

  Ash pulled out the chair between Her Grace and Pru. Bloody hell, her sister was a duchess? If he were ever foolish enough to believe there might one day be something between him and Pru, this bit of knowledge had certainly set him straight. Next, he would probably hear she was second cousin to King William IV.

  “I assume you are twins?” He studied them carefully. “The resemblance is there, but you look different to me.”

  He didn’t know what he’d said, but the sisters looked at each other and Her Grace burst out laughing. “That is telling, isn’t it, Sister?”

  Pru flushed and glanced furtively at him. What the hell had he said?

  A server immediately appeared at their table. “Your Grace, may I bring fresh tea?”

  She smiled up at the man. “This tea is fine. You may bring us another cup and something a bit hardier for our guest.”

  He had not been in the company of a duchess very often. In fact, never outside of selling a painting at the gallery, but this duchess seemed to be anything but lofty. Her manner and demeanor were friendly and unassuming. Strange, that.

  On the other hand, Pru looked decidedly uncomfortable as she glanced between him and her sister. He had a strong feeling this charming sister was about to insert herself into Pru’s business. But then, being an only child himself, he had no way of knowing if that sort of behavior between siblings was normal or not. In any event, he braced himself for an inquisition.

  And it began.

  “Mr. Reeves, I have been to your gallery several times, although I have somehow missed meeting you. I always enjoy the paintings and other works of art you display and am thrilled and excited that you have decided my sister’s work is worthy of a show.”

  He nodded at the server who placed small sandwiches and another tea cup on the table. “More than worthy, Your Grace.”

  Pru immediately poured him tea, and he was surprised to see her fix it precisely as he liked. They had shared tea before in the gallery while planning her show, but not so many times that he thought she would remember.

  He took a sip of tea and looked over at Pru’s sister. It made him feel a bit more in control if he thought of the woman that way, instead of as the wife of a duke. “Lady Prudence’s work is beyond the scope of most of our artists—although I would appreciate that little bit of information not being shared to the rest of our artists—and on the same level as our best.”

  The duchess raised her eyebrows. “Indeed? I always knew Pru was talented, but I guess since she is my sister I never thought of her as being so very talented.” She patted Pru’s hand. “No offence, Sister.”

  She returned her attention to him with a look that made him want to run his finger along the inside of his cravat. “His Grace and I, as well as the rest of our family, are quite excited about Pru’s show. I assume invitations have been sent?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. If you care to provide me with a list of those individuals who you would like to see receive an invitation, I would be more than happy to have our man of business compare the lists to make sure everyone on your list has been invited.”

  The duchess clapped her hands. “That is wonderful! I shall have my secretary send names to you this very afternoon.”

  The three of them chatted amicably for the next half hour, mostly focusing on the show and then the current Season which Pru once again reminded her sister she would be no part of this year.

  The Duchess of St. Albans was delightful. She was obviously the lively twin, one who jumped into things without giving it much thought. Her conversation was all over the place, and some of the things she announced she’d been involved in had him thinking she must be a trial to her husband

  “I understand with all you need to do for your show that you won’t have much time for social life this Season, Pru, but I am holding a garden party Thursday next that you simply must attend.” She held up her hand “Before you say anything, allow me to finish. You have friends who will start to make assumptions if they don’t see you at all.”

  She turned to Ash. “Mr. Reeves, it would be my pleasure to have you escort my sister to my garden party. Will that interrupt your work in any way?”

  A garden party? At a duke’s house? His first inclination, of course, was to refuse, but the sweet look on Her Grace’s face did something to his insides that he couldn’t ignore. It appeared to him that she genuinely wanted his attendance at a garden party. Or at least her sister’s, which she seemed to think would be easier to attain if she drew him into it.

  “Yes, Your Grace. I would be honored to escort Lady Prudence to your garden party. Despite all the plans being made, there is always time for a few hours of socializing.” He turned to Pru who didn’t look happy at being forced to attend. “Isn’t that so, Lady Prudence?”

  If she didn’t like the idea, he absolutely hated it. To hobnob with all the people who knew him as a gallery owner, a bastard, and certainly not worthy to attend a party at a duke’s house, annoyed him to a great extent. But he couldn’t find a way to refuse a duchess. Also, the woman looked so excited at the idea of her sister having some sort of social engagement.

  He was certain Pru was truly dedicated to her art and had no desire to join in the ton hunt for a husband, so how harmful could an afternoon at her sister’s house be for her? For him, it could spell disaster, but he would deal with that.

  * * *

  Pru passed by the window and peeked out at the lovely weather her sister had been blessed with for early in the season, then took a final glance in the mirror before leaving her bedchamber to meet Ash who had just arrived to escort her to Phoebe’s garden party.

  She sighed at the sight of the paint on her h
ands before pulling on her gloves which would cover the mess. Artists did not belong at garden parties when said artist had work to do. It was now a mere ten days before the showing, and she still had one painting to finish.

  It was a new experience for her to be painting with a deadline. But she found it actually energized her, and at the same time caused nervous flutters in her middle.

  She could have throttled her sister the day they had met Ash at Gunter’s the week before. Maybe he thought they could spare time for the garden party, but she had no desire to subject herself to the fluttering and eyelash-batting that would take up hours of precious time she could spend on finishing the paintings. ’Twas very clever of her sister to ask Ash before Pru even had a chance to decline.

  She was still reeling from Ash seeing a difference in looks between her and Phoebe. All their lives, no one—even Mother at times—could tell them apart. When Phoebe met her duke, the first thing he said was he had no trouble recognizing Phoebe. And he was correct in picking out Phoebe each time they encountered him together. It had been unnerving

  It had been obvious from Phoebe’s comment that she saw something special about Ash since he had done the same thing St. Albans had upon meeting the two of them. However, she had no intention to dwelling too much on that.

  Ash stood at the front door, conversing with Mason. She was once again struck by how handsome the gallery owner was. His blond hair had been slicked back, but uncooperative strands had already begun to fall on his broad forehead. He might not be recognized nor accepted by the ton, but his features were all aristocrat.

  In fact, even though she had never met Lord Stanhope formally, she knew what he looked like merely by looking at his son. Ash and the man she’d seen at numerous ton affairs looked so much alike they could never be mistaken for anything except father and son. It made one wonder what Stanhope would do if they ever met face to face at a beau monde affair.