by Anne Gracie
Gideon snorted. “Properly! How can you choose properly? How can anyone—man or woman—choose properly? Do you and I not have the evidence of our own lives that marriage is no safe choice for anyone—man or woman?”
“Yes, but—”
“No one knows what they are getting themselves into when they wed. The mere notion of choice is one of fate’s nastier jokes.”
“Yes, perhaps, but still it must be done.”
Gideon snorted.
“Mine is an ancient name, Cousin. There is that and the dukedom to be considered. My own wishes and fears are unimportant by comparison. I have a duty to marry. So do you, though I know you have set your mind against it.”
Gideon snorted again. “Duty!”
The duke continued, “So far as choosing a wife is concerned, I have thought the matter over very carefully, in order that I may minimize the risk. Naturally, I do not want a beautiful bride—we both know why. A plain and convenient bride will suit me, someone I can simply be friends with. If there are no strong emotions on either side, all risks will be minimized. Besides, beautiful women make me nervous.”
Gideon frowned. “Yes, I know. So why do you speak of pursuing an acquaintance with Miss Merridew?”
The duke looked at his cousin in surprise. “She is no beauty, at any rate.”
Gideon sat up. “What? She’s no commonplace society belle, I’ll grant you that, but—”
“Indeed, quite the contrary. I find her most comfortably ordinary.”
“Ordinary?” Gideon was disgusted. “Good God, man! What the devil’s the matter with you? You said yourself she was refreshingly unusual.”
“Yes, of course,” Edward murmured in a bland voice. “I mean ordinary looking. Almost plain.”
“Plain! Is there something wrong with your eyes? She’s not the slightest bit plain! Those eyes, that smile, that hair—from top to toe, Prudence Merridew is a rare little gem!”
“A gem, you say?” The duke observed his cousin thoughtfully and smiled. “Quite. I phrased it badly. At any rate, she doesn’t make me nervous.”
“More fool you, then.” Gideon rubbed his head feelingly. “She makes me damned nervous! Never know what the chit is going to do next.” He subsided into a chair with a faint, reminiscent grin.
Edward steepled his fingers carefully and said, “She seemed to have an interest in dukes. I see no reason why I should not allow her to pursue it.”
Gideon looked narrowly at his cousin. “I wouldn’t refine too much upon it, if I were you. I cannot be sure whether she thinks she wishes to marry a duke, or whether she wishes not to marry a duke, but whatever it is, you shall put her from your mind forthwith, Edward.”
“Oh, but if she is interested in dukes, what a happy coincidence. I am a duke, after all, come to London to further my acquaintance with the female sex. It was your idea, Gideon, if you recall.”
“I must have been castaway at the time.”
“Miss Merridew is the only female I have met in London so far.”
“That shall soon be remedied.”
“And since she is refreshingly unlike the females I have met in the past, I think I should call on her and Sir Oswald this afternoon.”
“It is a very bad idea,” Gideon said firmly.
“Why?”
Gideon groped for an acceptable reason why his very wealthy, very eligible cousin should not make a respectable call on an unmarried lady of the ton in the company of her great-uncle.
“I believe her to be deranged,” he said finally.
The duke’s mouth twitched, but he responded solemnly, “Ah. You think so?”
Gideon stood up and took several paces around the room. “Well, of course she is! She comes here, uninvited, at the crack of dawn—”
“Half-past nine.”
“Exactly! The crack of dawn! Claiming to be betrothed to you! Then she mistakes me for you—and then, as soon as her great-uncle arrives, she rails at me for a faithless beast, snatches up my tailor’s bills, rips them up in my face, and dashes them into the fire. Finally, not to be outdone, she stages a faint, and when I save her from falling and try to resuscitate her—what does she do? Biffs me over the ear with a hideous miniature Egyptian coffin that weighs a ton, announces she is engaged to some other blasted fellow, and storms out!”
There was a short silence as both men recalled the scene.
“Yes,” agreed the duke calmly. “As I said, refreshingly unusual.”
The cousins glanced at each other and, as one, collapsed into laughter. After a time, the duke rang for coffee to be brought in.
They drank it in silence, each man pondering the events of the morning. Gideon could not stop thinking about the kisses he had stolen from Miss Prudence Merridew. Or rather, his own reaction to them. For a few seconds, he’d felt like a callow boy, out of his depth, stirred more deeply by a simple kiss from an unknown girl than anything had ever stirred him before.
It drew him like a magnet. It fascinated him. It terrified him.
“Another cup, Gideon?”
With difficulty, Gideon forced himself back into the present. “Not for me, thank you.” He yawned. “I’m for my bed. I shall see you this evening. We go to…where is it?” He frowned and then pulled a face. “Oh Lord, yes! Almack’s.”
“No, Almack’s is tomorrow night,” the Duke reminded him. “I have a little time yet before I must gird my loins, screw my courage to the sticking place, and offer myself up to the matchmaking mamas at Almack’s.”
“Shakespeare at the crack of dawn!” Gideon shuddered. “Vile habit. And if you had any consideration, Cousin mine, you would not mention matchmaking mamas.”
“You need not go to Almack’s if you don’t care for it.”
“I don’t care for it at all, as you very well know, but we do need to go there. You want to meet eligible young ladies and Almack’s is stuffed to the ceiling with them!”
“Indeed, but I don’t need you to hold my hand, you know. I am quite capable of braving the terrors of the marriage mart by myself, though it is kind of you to offer. Besides, I may not need to brave Almack’s at all. I told you, I have a mind to further my acquaintance with Miss Prudence Merridew,” said the duke guilelessly and lifted his coffee cup to his lips.
Gideon frowned. “Miss Prudence Merridew wouldn’t suit you at all! You say you want a nice, steady, plain, quiet girl. She’s none of those. And she has a frightful temper. You should have seen the way she ripped into me only for offering an aesthetic judgment on that blasted ugly reticule, all because the damned thing was made by her little sister. I mean, if I had a sister who perpetuated such artistic atrocities, I wouldn’t go around brandishing them in public, let alone attacking harmless fellows for the crime of being honest.”
Edward chuckled.
Gideon shook his head earnestly. “No, no—you may laugh, but Edward, be warned! The girl might have a sweet face and a bucket load of charm, but underneath she’s a regular little shrew. Whereas”—he gestured with one hand like a stage magician producing a rabbit from a hat—“there are dozens of females at Almack’s, most of them nice, steady, quiet girls, some as dull as ditchwater, if that’s what you really want. And since you have no desire for a beautiful bride—and I don’t at all blame you for that!—I can even introduce you to some positive antidotes, if you want! And almost all of the girls at Almack’s will be plainer, richer, and altogether more eligible for your purposes than Miss Prudence Merridew!”
“Oh, I am not such a high stickler.” The duke smiled tranquilly. “And I don’t care for an antidote for a bride. No, Miss Prudence Merridew is…interesting. And you know, I formed the impression that she would like to marry a duke, so if I can avoid hurling myself into the fray of the marriage mart—”
“She has no idea of what she wants!” snapped Gideon. “And neither do you. She is not the woman for you, Edward!”
The duke clapped his hands. “Famous! I never thought to see this moment! And to think I always
considered London to be so dull. Oh, Cousin mine, how the mighty are fallen!”
Gideon rolled his eyes. “Pah! You know I am not in the market for a wife. I have no taste for marriage, duty or not. I might, perhaps, indulge myself in a mild flirtation, but that is all. And you know perfectly well I do not make sport of youthful innocents.”
His cousin inclined his head. “I do know it, dear boy. That is what makes the whole thing so very interesting.”
Gideon scowled, but said nothing. Edward was wrong. Nobody had fallen anywhere. She might have stirred him unexpectedly but he was not going to pursue the matter. He did not need to be stirred. He did not wish to be stirred. He was content with his life as it was. To further his acquaintance with Miss Prudence Merridew would be courting disaster. He was far too sensible to do that.
“And then, of course, there is the Otterbury factor,” added the duke.
“You believed her?” Gideon said scornfully. “A moment before, she was claiming to be betrothed to the Duke of Dinstable, and you know how genuine that was! This is just another one of her faradiddles.”
The duke shrugged. “Sounded genuine to me. Certain note of conviction in her voice.”
“Nonsense! She was just putting me in my place.”
“Yes.” The duke smiled, adding, “It worked, too, didn’t it?”
Gideon shoved his hands in his pockets, crossed his legs at the ankle and glowered at his gleaming Hessian boots. It had worked, dammit. Their little sparring match had stirred his blood. No woman had ever repulsed him so vigorously, particularly after being kissed, and he had to admit he was intrigued. Or he might have been if he wasn’t being sensible.
The duke chuckled. “I don’t believe she pulled that name out of a hat. One doesn’t keep names like Otterbury in hats. Sounded to me like it burst out of her like…like some secret she’s been keeping for a long time. Perhaps for four long years.”
“Four and a half.” Gideon scowled and hunched down in his chair. There was substance to what his cousin said. Otterbury. She had tossed the name down like a gauntlet and stormed out. Could she really be betrothed to a man called Otterbury? Not that he was interested, of course. Merely curious, as anyone might be.
Otterbury must be completely ineligible. A cit, perhaps? Someone hopelessly below her in station. Whatever his station, he had to be someone damned special for a woman like Prudence Merridew to wait for him for four and a half years…
The duke rose and patted his cousin’s cheek provocatively as he passed. “Sweet dreams, dearest Coz.”
“Damn your eyes, Edward!” responded Gideon absentmindedly.
The duke left, chuckling softly.
Gideon, lost in thought, stared at his boots.
Chapter Six
“I hope you do not think me prone to an iteration of nuptials.”
WILLIAM CONGREVE
THE CARRIAGE ROLLED AWAY FROM THE DUKE’S RESIDENCE.
“Now, missy, I’ll want an explanation for this extraordinary—”
Prudence rolled her eyes silently in the direction of Lily, sitting tense and upright on the leather seat beside her, a wooden expression on her face.
But Great-uncle Oswald was made of sterner stuff. To men of his upbringing and generation, servants did not count. “Well?”
“I shall explain all when we get home, dear Great-uncle Oswald,” Prudence murmured. “Only I am still feeling a little…” Her voice died away, and she lifted the vinaigrette to her nose, a silent reminder of her recent episode of feminine delicacy.
“Hmph!” Great-uncle Oswald subsided.
Prudence closed her eyes, snatching at the brief reprieve. She needed to come up with a way out of this mess, fast. Her small, simple plan had spiraled quite out of control.
Besides, her indisposition was not completely feigned. At the moment she could barely think straight. Her whole body was still trembling. With righteous indignation, she told herself. Of course she was upset. Who wouldn’t be, mauled in such a…a…lascivious manner by a perfect stranger…a perfect rake.
Although perfect was the wrong word. He was by no means perfect at all!
Her legs were still trembling. And her hands. Even her insides seemed to be quivering.
Not surprising, she told herself firmly. She’d had to use her reticule to defend her honor. Any gently born lady would be unsettled after such an experience.
She didn’t feel unsettled. She felt…invigorated. Excited. A deliciously sensual shudder passed through her.
Great-uncle Oswald spoke suddenly. “Got the shivers, too, eh? No doubt you are sickening for something—”
Her eyes snapped open, and she felt herself blushing.
“It’s not every day a gel gets herself into a mess like this one, missy, so I’m not surprised if you’re havin’ palpitations.” Great-uncle Oswald leaned forward in the carriage and observed her closely. “A slight hectic touch about the cheeks, too, I see. I have no doubt it’s all worsened by that dratted ham you will eat at breakfast. Red meat at any time of the day is not good for young gels. Inflames the passions. I expect you need a purge.”
Declining to comment, Prudence rested her head on the leather squabs and closed her eyes. It wasn’t a slice of ham that had inflamed her passions, it was—
No. She would not think about Lord Carradice. It was her indignation that had become inflamed, not her passions! She would put him very firmly out of her mind. Besides, she had to find a solution to this mess she’d created; her sisters’ future depended on it.
But as soon as she closed her eyes, she could think of nothing but the way his eyes had seemed to darken as his mouth came down over hers…
On arrival home, Great-uncle Oswald, declaring she looked distinctly feverish, had sent her instantly upstairs to lie down and recover herself. A few minutes later, he brought up a nasty-smelling herbal draft, a purge that he declared infallible, and ordered Prudence to drink every drop. Having no choice, Prudence obediently drained the cup and lay on her bed to ponder her problems.
They whirled around in her brain; she could see no way out. There had to be some way she could support her sisters. She turned the problem over and over in her mind. She could gain employment as a housekeeper, or a governess perhaps…but even if she could earn enough, which was doubtful, she would hardly keep a job with four younger sisters in tow.
Try as she might, the unpalatable truth stayed the same: one of her sisters had to marry. Somehow, she had to get Great-uncle Oswald to break his decree.
Eventually she did what she had done every time she had failed to come up with an adequate solution; she began another letter to Phillip. His long silence could contain a message. On the other hand it was also true that letters from India had been lost or delayed, some by years. Deliberate silence or accidental delay? She had to know—one way or another—where she stood, and all she could do was write and ask.
She finished her letter just as her maid scratched at the door and peeped in. Seeing Prudence was up and clearly recovered, she bobbed a curtsy and said, “Please, miss, Sir Oswald says if you’re recovered, he would be obliged if you was to present yerself in the yellow saloon at four o’clock.”
Prudence felt her heart sink. “Thank you, Lily. Please inform Sir Oswald that I shall attend him.”
Lily turned to leave, but Prudence stopped her. “Lily, you didn’t get into trouble, did you? For accompanying me, I mean? You must tell me if you did, so that I can make amends for it.”
“Oh, no, miss. Sir Oswald was a little snappish about it, to be sure, but he knows as how I was only following your orders.”
“So you didn’t get into trouble?”
“No, miss. Old Niblett gave me a bit of a jaw-me-dead about it, but I don’t care for that.”
“The butler? Oh, dear. I will speak to him. I am truly sorry to have involved you in my troubles, Lily.”
“Oh, no, miss, don’t you fret none about old Niblett.” Lily grinned and smoothed her apron demurely. “He was j
ust jealous ’cause he’s never been inside a real duke’s house and I have, coarse and ignorant country hoyden that I am! And I spoke to the duke—face-to-face! And his handsome cousin the lord called me a frail little creature, what’s more! So old Niblett is jealous, fit to bust!” She winked at her mistress and bounced out of the room.
At precisely four o’clock Prudence stood outside the yellow saloon, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.
She hurried into an explanation as soon as she entered. “I am so sorry, Great-uncle Oswald. I hope you’re not too upset. It was all my fault, I know. I have been thinking and thinking about how I could have made such a foolish error, and I have come to the unwelcome conclusion that Lord Carradice probably paid me a few graceful compliments, and I must have refined too much upon it—building castles in the air, you know. We girls tend to be very romantical at that age.”
Great-uncle Oswald’s face softened. “Yes, and I don’t doubt that you were unused to receivin’ compliments. No wonder the wastrel was able to turn your head so easily.”
Swallowing her pride, Prudence nodded. “In any case, I have not seen him for more than four years, so there is no need to worry.”
“Are you sure, missy?”
“Oh yes, I promise you. This morning was the first time.” That was the truth, at any rate.
“Well, I don’t pretend to like it. And I cannot understand why the fellow told you he was the Duke of Dinstab—”
“I think that was my fault too,” Prudence jumped in. “It was my initial mistake, and he simply never corrected me.”
“But to let you go on addressin’ him incorrectly for four and a half years.” He shook his head.
Prudence felt herself coloring. The kindness in his tone was harder to bear than any amount of shouting.
“No need to flush up, my dear,” said the old man gruffly. “I expect it was all love nonsense and not about names and titles at all. Am I right?”
Bright red, Prudence shrugged.
“Thought so. Dashed loose manners the young reprobate has! Now, before I let it go, I’ll ask you once more—it occurs to me you might not have wanted to admit such a thing with your sisters present—did the rascally knave touch you in any improper manner? You know what I mean, missy?”