by Joyce Alec
Besides which, were he honest with himself, Felix was a little concerned for Lady Prudence. He recalled how she had looked into his face with her vivid green eyes, her dark hair peeking out from under her bonnet. She had seemed so small, so vulnerable, and he had to admit there was a small part of him that wanted to ensure that she was recovered. The shock had evidently been a great one given that she had fainted in such a fashion.
“And there was that package she mentioned,” Felix murmured to himself, turning up another street as Lord Claverhouse’s townhouse came into view. That was something of a mystery, and he could not simply push that thought to the back of his mind and forget about it. He wanted to find out a little more, wanted to discover if there was something further that Lady Prudence had to tell him about this particular parcel and why Lord Yardley had given it to her.
Surely it could not be the cause of his death?
The thought hit him hard, making him stumble as he tried to catch his breath. It was as though he had been punched hard in the chest, his eyes widening with the shock that came with such an astonishing thought.
“It was an accident,” he said aloud, remembering how Lady Devonshire had spoken such words on two occasions. “It was nothing more than that, no matter what Lady Prudence might think.”
She was obviously mistaken in her belief that Lord Yardley’s life had been taken from him purposefully, Felix decided, climbing the stone steps and then rapping smartly on Lord Claverhouse’s door. The shock had overcome her sense and made her believe something that simply could not be true. That was the full measure of it, Felix was certain. He would wait until a dinner invitation was given him, ensure that Lady Prudence was well and fully recovered, and thus satisfied, make preparations to return to his estate. Satisfied, he waited for the door to open and then stepped inside, ready to greet Lord Claverhouse. He need not give Lady Prudence another thought.
“What do you mean, you intend to quit London?”
Felix grinned as his friend poured him another glass of brandy, as though such a gesture would incline Felix to change his mind.
“I have found nothing of interest here in London,” he said, accepting the glass from Lord Claverhouse with a nod of gratitude. “I have given it some three weeks now and nothing has changed. Therefore, I shall simply return to my estate and then, perhaps in the little Season, try again.”
Lord Claverhouse, who had now sat down heavily opposite Felix and was studying him with a somewhat beady eye, gave a loud sigh before tutting in disdain.
“I am not being arrogant or any of the other names you might wish to level at me,” Felix continued with a wave of his hand. “It is simply that I have found nothing of interest.”
“You mean to say that no young lady has grasped your attention with enough force for you to remain and seek her acquaintance further,” Lord Claverhouse said pointedly. “Is that not so?”
Felix shrugged. “It may be the truth, yes, but it is not of any significance.”
“I think it is significant,” Lord Claverhouse argued, rolling his eyes at Felix. “You are being pernickety.”
Laughing, Felix shook his head. “I am not being overly choosy,” he argued as Lord Claverhouse took a large sip of his brandy. “But I will not simply pick a lady as my wife because there is a requirement for me to have one.” He shrugged one shoulder. “There must be something about the lady that sparks an interest deep within my heart—one that will continue to linger throughout the rest of our lives. And as yet, I have not found a single young lady who has brought about such a feeling within me. In fact,” he said, bringing his glass to his lips, “I have found them almost all exactly the same.”
Lord Claverhouse pressed one hand to his heart in mock horror. “You cannot be speaking the truth,” he said loudly as Felix chuckled. “All the same? That cannot be. I can think of at least three young ladies who are quite individual.”
Felix arched one eyebrow. “Indeed?”
This brought Lord Claverhouse’s speech to a sudden end, for he looked back at Felix with a half-open mouth, evidently having meant to list the names of such ladies, only for them all to suddenly escape him.
“You see?” Felix laughed as he swirled the last of his brandy around his glass. “You have just as much difficulty as I.”
“That is not so,” Lord Claverhouse stated firmly. “I had momentarily forgotten the ladies’ names, that is all.” Clearing his throat, he listed three individual ladies, each of whom Felix knew, without a doubt, were already wed. A grin spread across his face as Lord Claverhouse expressed the virtues of the final lady—a Lady Brookmire, who, apparently, was something of a bluestocking but very well spoken and highly thought of.
“Yes,” Felix said with an air of consideration. “Yes, Lady Brookmire. An excellent suggestion, Lord Claverhouse…were she not already wed to Viscount Brookmire.” He laughed aloud as Lord Claverhouse’s expression darkened and he made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. “In fact, I am quite certain that each of the ladies you have mentioned are already wed. I confess I am a little surprised that you did not mention your own dear wife, since she is also a very remarkable lady—although, sadly, already wed and therefore entirely unavailable for my courting.” He eyed Lord Claverhouse. “I have not seen your wife a good deal, however.” A sudden worry captured his heart. “Is she well?”
Lord Claverhouse waved a hand. “She is well enough, although feeling a little unenthusiastic about making her way into society as yet.” Something came into his expression that Felix could not quite work out, frowning hard as he watched his friend. Lord Claverhouse sighed and rose to his feet, splashing a little more brandy into his glass before coming toward Felix in order to add more to his glass also.
“But we are not here to talk about my wife,” he declared firmly. “I am not as much in society as I was last year, but I am certain that returning to your estate is a poor choice. There must be one lady amongst all the others that had piqued your interest even a little.”
Felix opened his mouth to deny it, only to suddenly recall that Lady Prudence had, in fact, been someone of particular interest to him. It was not, of course, because he knew anything about her or because he found her company to be warm and inviting, but rather because of what had occurred and what she had said. In the silence that followed, Felix heard Lord Claverhouse begin to chuckle and, looking back at his friend, could not help but laugh along.
“It is not for the reasons you think,” he stated, as though such a thing was worthy of explanation. “I have barely spoken to the lady.”
“Sometimes a mere glance at a lady is all that is required,” Lord Claverhouse grinned, now looking satisfied with himself. “I knew there was a lady within London who would not rush easily from your mind. Which means,” he finished with evident determination, “you cannot simply return to your estate and leave London behind as you have planned. You must remain and seek out her company again until you are quite convinced one way or the other.”
“It seems that I have no choice in the matter, even if I wished to depart this very afternoon,” Felix muttered, his once mirthful appearance now fading to seriousness. “The lady’s mother has invited me to dine with the family very soon and I did not refuse her invitation.”
Lord Claverhouse smiled broadly. “In that case, I look forward to learning the lady’s name very soon,” he said with a wink. “Finally, a lady who has caught Lord Stoneleigh’s eye. I can hardly wait to meet her.”
3
Why her mother had insisted that Prudence attend an evening soiree only a day after she had witnessed the terrible death of Lord Yardley, Prudence did not know. It was not an enjoyable evening, for she could barely raise a smile to any of the other guests and found herself close to tears on many occasions, without any sort of explanation for her sorrow.
Her mother, given that she was in the same room as Prudence, had allowed her to go on alone without standing directly by her side and, thankfully, Prudence had found a gro
up of acquaintances who were eager to talk but less eager to listen. Thus, she had stood in silence and allowed the conversation to flow around her without truly listening to anything that was being said.
“You are quite lost in thought, Lady Prudence.”
She jerked to attention, looking up at Lord Brunswick as he grinned down at her.
“I must hope,” he continued, one hand pressed against his heart, “that I am the object of your thoughts, Lady Prudence. Were there dancing this evening, then I should have asked for your company at once.”
“That is very kind,” Prudence replied, aware that others in the group were now looking at her. “I am a little lost in thought, as you say, Lord Brunswick.”
“And yet you do not say that such thoughts are centered upon me,” Lord Brunswick sighed heavily. “Although I should not allow my heart to be injured so, given that I am now betrothed.” He grinned at her, but Prudence did not smile back. She disliked that Lord Brunswick would behave in such a flirtatious manner when he was already engaged.
“Might I enquire as to which particular gentleman you are thinking of with such a forlorn expression?” Lord Brunswick continued, eyeing her speculatively. “Or will you keep such a secret within your own heart?”
Some of the ladies in the group tittered behind their hands, their eyes darting from one face to the next as Lord Brunswick’s wide grin held a touch of mockery. Her cheeks warm, Prudence lifted her chin and looked directly into Lord Brunswick’s handsome face. He would soon see that she was not the sort of lady who was easily shamed, particularly when there was something so serious on her mind.
“I was thinking of the tragic death of Lord Yardley,” she said, watching as the smiles fell from the faces of those around her. “It was only yesterday and given that he was once wed to my cousin, I have found the news to be a very heavy weight upon my mind, Lord Brunswick.”
There was no lingering grin left on Lord Brunswick’s face as he dropped his gaze and cleared his throat, clearly now embarrassed that he had spoken so.
“That must be very trying for you, Lady Prudence,” said one of the ladies, as though she had not been laughing only a few moments before. “I heard it was a dreadful accident.”
Prudence bit her lip, resisting the urge to tell them all that it had been no accident and that she was quite certain that it had been done deliberately. She had already voiced as much to her mother, who had immediately disregarded such a notion with a stern warning that she ought not to mention it again. It was, however, both frustrating and rather upsetting to feel so alone in her belief. She had not dared tell her mother about the parcel that Lord Yardley had given her. She had already made the mistake of speaking to Lord Stoneleigh of it, and she did not want to do so again.
“It must have been all the more painful, given that you were, in a way, related to him,” said another young lady. “I am very sorry for the loss your family must be enduring at present.”
“You are very kind,” Prudence replied, glad that she had managed to keep her thoughts to herself. She said nothing more, her gaze drifting away from the rest of the group. Conversation resumed—albeit rather quietly—around her but again, Prudence did not give even the slightest attention to it. Lord Brunswick eventually took his leave, perhaps still embarrassed by what he had said, and Prudence herself stepped away, meandering to a quieter corner of the room. Picking up another glass of champagne, she sipped it as she lingered alone for a few moments, wishing that her mother had not forced her to attend.
“Lady Prudence?”
The voice was hesitant and gentle and, as Prudence turned around, she saw a tall man with a shock of light brown hair bowing before her. When he lifted his head, she recognized him immediately—and felt her stomach drop to the floor.
“I do not mean to alarm you,” Lord Stoneleigh said, evidently recognizing the shock on her face. “I shall depart, if that is what you would prefer.”
Finding her voice, Prudence found herself putting out one hand and holding tightly to his arm. “No, please,” she said, her voice barely loud enough for him to hear. “I—I am glad to see you.”
That was, of course, a true sentiment, for she was desperate to ensure that he did not tell another person what she had accidentally revealed about Lord Yardley and the package.
Lord Stoneleigh blinked in surprise, his eyes drifting to her hand as it rested on his arm. Embarrassed, Prudence dropped her hand at once, aware of the heat in her cheeks as she took a small step back.
“I have been wanting to ensure that you are quite recovered, Lady Prudence,” Lord Stoneleigh told her, his voice a little gruff. “It appears you must be, given that you are present this evening.”
Prudence shook her head. “I do not wish to be here, Lord Stoneleigh,” she found herself saying. “My mother was eager for me to attend and therefore, you find me present.” She closed her eyes for a moment, wondering what it was about Lord Stoneleigh that had her speaking the truth without having had any intention to do so.
“I well understand the pressures of society, Lady Prudence,” Lord Stoneleigh said kindly. “Might I ask how you are faring, then?”
Opening her eyes, Prudence looked up at him. “Lord Stoneleigh, there is one significant matter that I must speak to you about,” she said, glancing over her shoulder to ensure that she could not be overheard. “It is to do with yesterday afternoon and the death of Lord Yardley.”
“But of course,” Lord Stoneleigh said quietly. “Do you wish to discuss it with me here?”
“No,” Prudence said quickly, fully aware that anyone could overhear them speaking at any time. “Might you and I meet together at some point? I know it is rather rude to ask for such a thing when we are barely acquainted, but it is of the greatest importance.”
She waited for his response, holding his gaze and trying her best not to twist her fingers as she clasped them together in front of her. It was rather brazen to suggest that a gentleman meet with her for no other reason than because she asked it of him, but she hoped that after what he had witnessed along with her, he would accept.
“If that is what you would like, Lady Prudence, then I certainly shall not refuse,” he said eventually, inclining his head. “Perhaps I could call upon you?”
“No.”
She spoke a little too abruptly, a little too forcefully, but Lord Stoneleigh only blinked momentarily before spreading his hands and smiling at her.
“I do not mean to be rude, Lord Stoneleigh, but even my mother cannot hear what I have to speak of,” she said, her cheeks warm as she dropped her gaze to the floor. “If we, perhaps, went for a short walk together, my mother would, most likely, be distracted by a friend or an acquaintance and allow us the few moments we need to speak.”
Lord Stoneleigh nodded. “Then I shall call for you tomorrow, Lady Prudence,” he said, and Prudence let out a breath of relief. “Ah, I believe your mother is approaching.”
Utterly relieved that she had managed to arrange something before her mother joined them, Prudence turned around and smiled quickly at Lady Devonshire.
“Mama,” she began, but Lady Devonshire only had eyes for Lord Stoneleigh.
“Lord Stoneleigh,” Lady Devonshire exclaimed, holding out her hand to him so that he could bow over it. “I am so glad to see you again, I confess. We have not arranged dinner as yet, but—”
“There is plenty of time for such things,” Lord Stoneleigh replied with a broad smile. “I will be glad to attend whenever you should wish to invite me, Lady Devonshire.”
Lady Devonshire smiled and then looked pointedly at Prudence.
“I believe there is to be some sort of musical performance,” Lady Devonshire continued, lifting one hand toward the door. “Oh look, I see we are being asked to attend.”
Prudence, fully aware of what her mother was hoping for, began to turn around and make her way toward the door, when she heard Lord Stoneleigh speak directly to her.
“Perhaps I could accompany you, Lady P
rudence?” he suggested, falling into step beside her as Lady Devonshire looked on approvingly. “I do hope that you might play?”
The thought of playing the pianoforte in front of Lord Stoneleigh sent a shudder of anxiety through Prudence and even though he looked warmly at her, she could not bring herself to agree.
“Mayhap I shall do so another evening,” Prudence replied, hearing her mother click her tongue in disapproval from behind her. “I am afraid I shall have to disappoint you tonight.”
“Then I shall look forward to when I can hear you play, for I am sure you are very proficient,” Lord Stoneleigh replied quietly. “And for the moment, I shall be glad to be in your company.”
Prudence smiled at this, thinking to herself that there was something rather kind about Lord Stoneleigh. Perhaps she ought to have known it from how he had come to her rescue, how he had insisted on helping her when she had been lost in shock and grief, but now she was convinced of it. Lord Stoneleigh, it seemed, was a very generous man.
The only question was, could she trust him?
“You must not think anything of it, Mama,” Prudence murmured as they waited for Lord Stoneleigh to arrive in his carriage. “This is merely a walk, nothing more.”
Lady Devonshire laughed breezily and patted Prudence’s arm. “It is the first gentleman that you have ever entertained, Prudence. I shall allow myself to be a little pleased, whether you wish it or not.”
Prudence closed her eyes, wishing that her mother would not behave in such a fashion, not when she herself was still so upset over what had occurred with Lord Yardley. The funeral was to take place very soon, but her parents had insisted that there was no need for them to attend, for Lord Yardley had not truly been family. Yes, he had been wed to their cousin, but that did not mean that they were required to leave London and attend the funeral, or to undertake a period of mourning. Prudence had not known what to say to this, her mind too filled with confusion and anxiety from what had occurred.