London Temptations: Historical Regency Romance Collection

by Joyce Alec

  It was as though a heavy cloud had come to linger over the both of them, for in that moment, Prudence felt the sun fade away and the lightness in her heart begin to darken. “Lord Yardley,” she murmured, taking in his pale face, his disheveled hair, and feeling her heart begin to quicken with worry. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Lord Yardley let out a long breath, closing his eyes for a moment as a tremor ran visibly through him. “I can only apologize for bringing this to you, for involving you in this way, Lady Prudence,” he said, his voice low and quiet. “Believe me when I tell you I have no other choice. There is no one else that I can trust.”

  Prudence found herself nodding, the urge to reassure the gentleman growing within her. “Whatever it is, I am glad to be of assistance to you,” she said quickly. “Truly, Lord Yardley, there is nothing that I would not do to help you in whatever circumstance you find yourself in.”

  Lord Yardley nodded, but then looked over his shoulder again. When his gaze returned to hers, Prudence noted the sweat that had broken out on his brow and felt her stomach drop. Whatever Lord Yardley was involved with, whatever he was to ask of her, this was very grave indeed.

  “Here.”

  From his pocket, Lord Yardley pulled out something wrapped in blue cloth. He pressed it into her hands, his eyes searching hers.

  “Keep it hidden for me, Lady Prudence,” he told her, without any explanation as to what it was. “Do not allow another living soul to see it. Not even your own parents. Can you promise me that you will do so?”

  For a moment, Prudence wanted to push the item back into Lord Yardley’s hands, to refuse to help him, to state that she wanted nothing to do with whatever he was involved in. But then she remembered Mary and just how much Lord Yardley had cared for his wife and knew that she could do nothing but what he asked.

  “Of course,” she said slowly, taking it from him. “Do you mean to say that there are those who wish to take this from you?”

  Closing his eyes in evident relief, Lord Yardley sagged back for a moment, saying nothing more. Prudence watched him closely, confused as to why he had come to her and why he appeared so afraid.

  “I must go,” Lord Yardley said softly, opening his eyes and looking at her again. “I must not be seen here. You must be protected. I—I will return for this.” He pressed his fingers to the package. “I will return for it soon, when it is safe.”

  Prudence found herself nodding, even though her heart had slammed hard against her chest at his words. “What else can I do, Lord Yardley?” she asked, but the gentleman was already shaking his head.

  “You have done enough, Lady Prudence,” he said heavily, reaching out to press her shoulder for a moment. “More than I should ever have asked of you. But I know so few in London and you are the only one I can trust.” He swallowed hard and then, after another moment, turned and walked out the door. Prudence, still holding the package, made to step out after him, only to recall that Lord Yardley had begged her to keep it both safe and hidden. A little embarrassed that she had forgotten so quickly, she turned and gave it to a waiting footman, who had been standing out of earshot.

  “Take this to my room at once, and place it under the pillow of my bed,” she said firmly. “And be quick about it.”

  The footman did as she asked at once and Prudence hurried back to the door, wanting to make quite certain that Lord Yardley was safe. Coming down the stone steps, she watched as he made his way along the pavement, his shoulders hunched and his steps determined. Glancing over his shoulder again, he then stepped out into the road, ready to cross to the other side.

  But just as he began to make his way across, a carriage turned the corner and began to hurtle toward him as fast as it could go. The driver was busy encouraging the horses, urging them on—and Prudence already knew what was going to happen.

  A scream lodged in her throat as she stumbled forward, seeking to prevent the disaster from occurring somehow, but she already knew it would be much too late. Still, she hurried forward, hearing the loud, tortured cry that came from Lord Yardley’s lips, her vision blurred as she saw him disappear under the legs of the horses. The screams of other passersby filled the air and she found herself joining in, now trying to make her way toward the crumpled figure of Lord Yardley.

  “No, my lady.”

  A strong arm grasped hers and pulled her back. Prudence did not know what to do, finding herself held back from where she wanted to go.

  “You must not,” the voice continued, firm but with an edge of gentleness. “There are many going to him now. Your presence might add to scandal.”

  Prudence sagged heavily back, her strength fading from her, her legs buckling underneath her. The gentleman who had stopped her had no other choice but to catch her in his arms, to hold her tightly and to pull her back to the pavement as Prudence struggled against the pain that overwhelmed her.

  “He is dead,” she gasped, her breath painful as she tried to take in what she had seen. “Lord Yardley is gone.”

  “I think it must be so,” the gentleman replied, rather gruffly, as she found her hands digging into his upper arms, trying desperately to hold onto him and find the strength she needed to stand on her own. “I would not hide the truth from you, my lady.”

  Prudence closed her eyes and felt herself shudder. “He spoke to me only minutes before,” she said, her legs still too weak to hold her. “He gave me that parcel and begged me to hide it. What if I…” She could not bring herself to say it, looking up into the gentleman’s face and feeling a coldness wash over her heart. Certain that Lord Yardley had been deliberately killed, she now feared that the same might happen to her, even though she did not yet know why.

  Do not allow another living soul to see it.

  Horrified, Prudence clapped her hand over her mouth, realizing she had just spoken to a complete stranger about the package that had been given her. She had failed Lord Yardley already and it had only been a few minutes since they had spoken.

  “You are very upset,” the gentleman said quietly. “Tell me, my lady, where is your carriage?”

  “Prudence?”

  Prudence let out a shuddering breath, turning her head to see her mother standing at the bottom of the steps, staring with shock at the scene before her.

  “Mama,” Prudence breathed, trying to step toward her only to find herself still without strength.

  “If you will permit me, my lady?” the gentleman asked, looking down into her eyes, and Prudence could only nod.

  Hearing the shriek from her mother as the gentleman bent to bodily lift Prudence from the ground, his arm under her knees and her head on his shoulder, Prudence closed her eyes and felt her thoughts begin to swim together, pushing her closer and closer to a welcoming darkness.

  “Prudence, what is the meaning of this?” she heard her mother say, even though her voice now appeared to be coming from very far away. Giving herself up to the dark, Prudence felt her head fall back but could not prevent it, dropping into a deep and heavy faint that pulled her away, at least for the moment, from the terrible circumstance that had only just overtaken her.

  2

  Felix looked down at the young lady in his arms as he moved toward the older lady who he presumed was the young lady’s mother. He wondered just who she was and why she had been following that most unfortunate gentleman out into the middle of the road in such a fashion. Had she been attempting to save him? The poor fellow had been knocked to the ground with such force that Felix was quite certain there was nothing to be done.

  “Whatever have you done to my daughter?” the lady screeched, flying toward Felix, her hands raised as though she thought to strike him. “Whatever have you done to her?”

  Felix lifted one eyebrow and fixed the lady with a stern gaze, relieved that she then dropped her hands. “I have done nothing to your daughter other than to pull her back from a most unfortunate circumstance,” he said gravely. “She has fainted from the shock of it.” He glanced toward the townho
use to his right. “Is this where I ought to take her?”

  The lady did not seem to know what to say for a moment, staring down at her daughter before lifting her eyes to the commotion that was now just behind Felix.

  “What—what has happened?” she asked hoarsely, her face suddenly greying. “Is my daughter…injured in some way?”

  “No,” Felix replied firmly. “But I must take her indoors.”

  This seemed to make the lady recollect herself somewhat, for she nodded, turned, and gestured for him to make his way up toward the house. Felix mounted the steps carefully, glancing down again at the young lady and recalling how she had spoken of some strange package, then clasped one hand to her mouth and stared at him in horror. Something within him told him that he ought not to mention this to the lady’s mother, for it had evidently been something he was not meant to know of, and he did not want to bring the lady’s wrath down upon his head.

  “Please, take her in here,” the older lady said, hurrying ahead of him and opening a door to what Felix presumed was the drawing room. Seeing a chaise longue ahead of him, he set the lady down carefully and, making certain that she would not fall, stepped back and surveyed her.

  “I should send for a doctor,” her mother said, wringing her hands as she came to stand beside Felix. “My husband is out in town at present otherwise I—”

  “I think smelling salts will do,” Felix replied gently. “And I should also introduce myself to you.” He gave a small bow. “The Marquess of Stoneleigh, at your service.”

  The lady stared at him for a moment, her eyes wide as though she had not expected him to be a gentleman. Then, she closed her eyes, let out a sigh of relief, and nodded.

  “Lord Stoneleigh,” she said wearily. “Thank you for what you have done for my daughter—Lady Prudence.” She did not bob a curtsy but rather went to a small corner table in the very back of the room, clearly looking for something of importance. “I am Lady Devonshire. My husband is the Earl of Devonshire.”

  Felix cleared his throat and put his hands behind his back. “I am glad to make your acquaintance, Lady Devonshire, although I am sorry for the circumstances behind it.”

  Lady Devonshire, having found what she sought, rose back to her full height and gave him a rather wan smile as she came back toward her daughter. “Indeed, Lord Stoneleigh,” she answered. “Now, if you would care to wait, I am certain that my daughter will wish to speak to you and thank you for what you have done.”

  Felix hesitated. He did not want to be present in the room when the lady came around, for she might be disoriented and somewhat embarrassed to be seen in such a way, but at the same time, he did not wish to remove himself entirely.

  “I should send a quick message to my friend, who is expecting me,” he said, making for the door. “If you would excuse me for a few minutes, Lady Devonshire.”

  The lady did not even acknowledge his response, bending down to her daughter. Slipping from the room, Felix made his way back outside—and remembered the horrifying scene that had unfolded before him.

  There was even more of a crowd standing around the unfortunate gentleman now, although it appeared as though someone was attempting to remove the fellow from the road by way of a rather crude stretcher.

  “Lord Yardley, it is Lord Yardley,” he heard someone say as he strode toward the crowd. “Can you believe it?”

  Having never been acquainted with the gentleman, Felix was able to look down at the fellow somewhat dispassionately, although he certainly found his stomach turning over on itself as he took in the broken and bloodied form of the man on the stretcher.

  “He is dead, then?” he asked as one of the men carrying the stretcher glanced at him. “There is no hope?”

  “None,” the man replied firmly. “He had four horses and a carriage run right over him. I cannot think how anyone would have managed to survive such an accident.”

  It was certainly put rather crudely, and Felix found himself struggling at the way it had been stated, but at least there was a certainty over the fellow’s passing.

  “How horrible,” he murmured as the two men carrying the stretcher made their way past. “Where will you take him now?”

  The second man spoke. “To his townhouse, where the staff will have to prepare him,” he replied with a shrug. “At least someone knew who he was. Plenty times I have had to pick someone up without the least idea as to where they called home.”

  Felix watched the men go with a heavy heart, all too aware of the procession that seemed to join them as they walked away. He would not join it, not when he had seen the man’s broken body and knew all too well that there would be nothing here for him now.

  Lord Yardley.

  The name was obviously known to Lady Prudence, and certainly would be to Lady Devonshire as well. From what Felix had witnessed, it appeared as though Lord Yardley had merely been crossing from one side of the street to the other when he had been struck, whereas Lady Prudence seemed to believe it had been a deliberate act.

  Could it be so?

  Shaking his head to himself and muttering a quiet prayer for the deceased, Felix quickly grasped the arm of a young lad and asked if he wanted to deliver a message.

  With the note sent to Lord Claverhouse, Felix turned and made his way back into Lord Devonshire’s home, hoping that he would not be too long delayed. He would ensure that the lady was well, that she was not overly upset, and then he would take his leave. There were matters he wished to discuss with Lord Claverhouse that were of significance and, despite the upset of his afternoon thus far, Felix did not want to miss the opportunity to do so entirely.

  Clearing his throat and feeling a trifle awkward, Felix made his way back to the drawing room, seeing the door ajar and hearing the quiet murmurs of what he hoped were two voices. Pushing the door open a little more, he stepped inside and was heartily glad to see the young lady sitting up in her seat, a glass of what looked like wine clasped in her hand.

  “Oh, Lord Stoneleigh, you have returned,” Lady Devonshire exclaimed, rising from her chair at once and coming toward him. “My daughter has told me what you did in saving her from that dreadful crowd. I am not at all surprised that she was so overcome with shock upon seeing that accident.” She shook her head and gestured for him to sit down. “You must have witnessed it also.”

  “I did,” Felix replied, looking into the face of Lady Prudence and noting just how white she was still. “It was most unfortunate.”

  Lady Devonshire shook her head again and sat down. “A dreadful accident,” she said again as Lady Prudence dropped her gaze to the floor. “Might I ask if you are aware of the name of the unfortunate soul?”

  Felix frowned, shooting a glance toward Lady Prudence as he quickly realized that she herself had not given the name of Lord Yardley to her mother.

  “I do, in fact,” he said slowly. “It was one Lord Yardley, although I myself am not acquainted with him.”

  Lady Devonshire suddenly went very pale, her hands tight together in her lap as she stared at him, leaving Felix to wonder whether or not he ought to ring the bell for another glass of wine for Lady Devonshire herself.

  “I am sorry to bring this news to you,” Felix continued slowly. “I presume you knew the gentleman?”

  Lady Devonshire closed her eyes and nodded, her voice hoarse. “I did,” she answered shakily. “He was married to my sister’s daughter. She passed away some time ago—an illness, you see—and now you say that he, too, has…?” She could not seem to speak the last few words, looking at Felix with such a sense of desperation in her eyes that he wanted to beg her not to have him speak such news again.

  “I am afraid that he was the one who was hit by the carriage, yes,” he said gently, and Lady Prudence let out a quiet sob. “They have taken him back to his townhouse so that the staff can take care of preparations from there.”

  “Goodness, how awful,” Lady Devonshire whispered as Lady Prudence hid her face in a handkerchief. “Thank you f
or informing me, Lord Stoneleigh. And again, I thank you for what you did in coming to the aid of my daughter.” A slight note of embarrassment entered her voice. “I must apologize for shouting at you as I did at first. That was rather improper.”

  Felix rose to his feet, thinking it best to take his leave when the young lady was clearly so distressed. “Think nothing of it, Lady Devonshire.” Letting his eyes alight again on Lady Prudence, he gave her a small, encouraging smile which she did not return. “I only hope that, in time, the shock removes itself from you and that you recover fully, Lady Prudence. I should take my leave of you now.” Bowing, he turned to Lady Devonshire. “Thank you, Lady Devonshire. If you will excuse me.”

  “But of course,” Lady Devonshire replied quickly. “But we shall make arrangements to have you join us for dinner one evening soon, Lord Stoneleigh.”

  He held up one hand, palm facing the lady. “There is no need, Lady Devonshire, I assure you.”

  “But I insist,” Lady Devonshire replied with a note of steel in her voice that told Felix he could not argue. “After what you have done, we must find a way to thank you, even if it is only to have you join us for dinner.”

  This frustrated his plans somewhat, but Felix had no other choice but to nod and to smile, before thanking Lady Devonshire again. Quickly taking his leave of the two ladies, he marched outside again and averted his eyes from the remnants of the accident to his left. Turning his whole body away, he walked with hurried steps down the street, making his way to Lord Claverhouse’s townhouse, which was not a great distance away. Whilst he could very easily have taken his carriage or, at the very least, hailed a hackney, Felix had been eager to walk through London, with the intention, as he had set out, of it being one of the last times he would do so this Season.

  Perhaps he would not be able to escape London as quickly as he had first intended, he realized, sighing heavily and rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand for a moment. With Lady Devonshire’s firm intention to have him join them for dinner one evening soon, he could not simply depart from London and return to his estate as he had planned, for that would be seen as very rude indeed.