Sir Thomas nodded approvingly. “As you should be, my boy, as you should be.” He paused and turned his attention to Prudence. “And you, my dear? I hear you are cutting quite a swath through the ton. Your wit is everywhere admired and the ladies have nothing bad to say about you. Even your attire tonight was accounted something of a coup rather than the scandal I’ll wager your husband told you it would be. All in all, a remarkable accomplishment, I assure you! At this rate we shall hear of you being appointed ambassador to some major post at no great time in the future.”
Prudence laughed. “Perhaps. Save for the simple fact that a woman shall never be declared an official ambassador,” she replied easily. “It is fortunate that I am quite content to stay at Harry’s side and preside over his social affairs instead of my own.”
There was general laughter over that comment and good-natured roasting. It was Harry who said, “The day you are content to preside over my affairs instead of your own I shall know you have gone into a serious decline, my love!”
There was such warmth in his eyes that Prudence could not but feel relieved when the other Langfords departed. She dearly loved her husband’s family but she wanted to be alone with Harry. She had, after all, a surprise for him.
Although all her things had been lost when she was pushed overboard on the ship, she and Mrs. Wise, between them, had managed to duplicate another ensemble she had brought back from Morocco with her. Only this one was nothing like the robes she had swathed around herself to pass as a man, nothing like the ones she wore now. No, this ensemble was one worn only by women in Morocco and even then only in the most private of circumstances.
A smile lit Prudence’s face as she contemplated Harry’s expression when first he saw her in this other attire. He regarded her quizzically. All she would say aloud, however, was, “Give me perhaps fifteen minutes and then come upstairs. I’ve something I wish to show you.”
He hesitated and she added softly, “Alain.”
Immediately his eyes glowed and he grinned. “As you wish, my love,” he said with a bow.
And then, before he could ask any questions, for they would surely put her to the blush, Prudence hurried out of the room. The Moroccan ensemble waited and so did her heart, for all these months of marriage had still not accustomed her to the joy of being with Harry nor the pleasures to be found in the marriage bed. But Prudence meant to sample them for all the rest of her life.
Author’s Note:
I hope you have enjoyed the Langford series. These books are very dear to my heart: THE RECKLESS BARRISTER, THE WILY WASTREL and THE SENTIMENTAL SOLDIER.
Look for news of my other books at my website: http://www.aprilkihlstrom.com.
I love hearing from readers. I can be reached by email at: [email protected]
Copyright © 2000 by April Kihlstrom
Originally published by Signet [ISBN 0451198980]
Electronically published in 2011 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228
http://www.RegencyReads.com
Electronic sales: [email protected]
This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.
The Sentimental Soldier Page 20