The Devil Earl (15 page)

“Phoebe, darling,” she said, pulling a chair close.

“Oh, I am sorry I snapped at you,” Phoebe said, laying down her needle. “I truly am proud of you, Pru! Do not doubt it for a moment. It is just that, well, I…Oh, I don’t know what has come over me!”

“There, now, you are yourself again,” Prudence assured her sister. “We are all a little at odds, being unused to sharing close quarters. You and I and Cousin Hugh, and even Mrs. Broadgirdle!”

Phoebe smiled tremulously at the mention of their lessthan-pleasant chaperone. “I think Mrs. Broadgirdle is always at odds with everyone,” she murmured.

“I suspect you are right!” Prudence agreed. “But you must forgive her ill nature, just as you must forgive Hugh for carrying on about Ravenscar. He means well, I am sure.”

“Oh, I know he cannot help it. He is so very jealous,” Phoebe said. Her Cupid’s-bow lips curved into a little frown, while her words left Prudence even more confused. Hugh, jealous? Of what? Prudence wondered, trying to follow Phoebe’s halting speech and shifting mood. “I suppose I am used to catching everyone’s attention myself, and…Oh, Prudence, I am sorry for being so petty.”

Prudence felt herself engulfed in her sister’s gentle embrace, and patted her gently. “There, there. You are not petty.”

“Yes, I am!” Phoebe cried, pulling back. “Why, I do not even care for Hugh, and yet, when I see how he prefers you to me, I get all spiteful.”

Prudence stared at her in astonishment. “Phoebe, you are mistaken! Hugh positively dotes upon you, and he can barely tolerate me. Why, he just practically called me ugly to my face,” she said.

“Pooh!” Phoebe said, waving a dainty hand in dismissal. “He is so jealous of Ravenscar that he will say anything.”

“Jealous? Of Ravenscar? What nonsense!” Prudence laughed aloud. She had never thought Phoebe given to whimsy, but perhaps London had changed her, as well. “Now, stop being so silly and compose yourself, for, if I am not mistaken, I think I hear your gentleman outside.”

Phoebe’s pique was immediately abandoned as she fussed with her already perfect appearance. When Hugh’s man announced the caller, she was seated with her hands folded in her lap, her chair situated so that the sun from the bay
window caught her blond curls in the most flattering manner.

Prudence paused a moment in admiration, then moved forward to greet the new arrival. “Hello,” she said with a smile, and tried desperately to recall the man’s name.

“Miss Lancaster. It is such a pleasure to see you again,” the fellow said, bending over her hand with a flourish. His auburn hair was swept up in absurd waves, and the collar of his shirt was ridiculously high. A dandy. Prudence withdrew her fingers as politely as possible.

His attention was then drawn to Phoebe, and Prudence saw his eyes flicker in appreciation. He might dress like a fop, but he was, apparently, still very much a man. Prudence quelled her sense of unease. After all, she had received looks far more wicked than that from Ravenscar. And yet, she felt none of the underlying sense of respect that she always knew with the earl.

“Mr. Darlington!” Phoebe said, lowering her lashes prettily as he took her hand. Prudence thought the fellow lingered over it quite too long, and she was just about to frame a protest when Hugh came in with Mrs. Broadgirdle.

Finally loosening his grip on her sister, Mr. Darlington ingratiated himself with the girls’ cousin easily enough. There was a brief awkward moment when Mrs. Broadgirdle was introduced, but Mr. Darlington hid his dismay quickly, and then the young people bustled off with the chaperone.

Prudence watched them go, while Hugh settled back into one of his more comfortable chairs. “Ah, to be young again, eh, Prudence?” he called over his shoulder, in an obvious attempt at jovial conversation.

However, Prudence had not quite recovered from his earlier insult, nor did she care for this discourse. Absurdly, she found herself resenting the insinuation that she was old, even though she had thought of herself as on the shelf often enough.

Deciding it was best to ignore the comment, she turned his attention toward Phoebe’s caller. “Hugh, what do you know of that young man?” she asked, nodding toward the door Darlington had recently exited. “I cannot like his address.”

Hugh looked up at her in some surprise. “Can’t say that I saw a thing wrong with the fellow. At least he ain’t one of those high flyers you seem to prefer.”

Prudence disregarded his not-so-subtle dig. “No. I do not believe that he is either titled or wealthy, but does the lack of both necessarily make him acceptable?”

Hugh stared at her blankly for a moment, her words obviously sailing over his head, before giving her a condescending smile. “You are feeling put out, as well you might, because your pretty sister has a caller today. Say!” he exclaimed, rising to his feet. “I know just the thing to perk up your spirits! Let us take off around town, just the two of us.”

Prudence bristled at his suggestion that she might be jealous of Phoebe. She had never in her life envied her younger sister, nor was she pining away for attention. Her literary notoriety had resulted in plenty of invitations, should she decide to accept them. In fact, Phoebe had just admitted that
she
was the one feeling out of sorts over Prudence’s success. Unfortunately, Prudence knew that arguing with Hugh was futile, so she let the slight pass and tried to drag his wandering interest back to the subject at hand.

“No, really, Hugh, there is something about his eyes I do not like,” she said. “He looked at Phoebe in a most indelicate fashion.”

“Who, Darlington?” Hugh laughed and chucked her under the chin. “By Jove, you are revealing not only your age, but your spinsterhood, Prudence! All the young bloods gaze at Phoebe the same way, with healthy admiration. Come now, where shall we go?”

Again, Prudence felt an unnatural anger erupting in her breast at Hugh’s thoughtless teasing. True, she might not be in the first bloom of youth, but she was hardly ready for the graveyard. And one man, at least, admired her. The thought of Ravenscar made her heart leap uncontrollably. “I am going shopping,” she said.

“Shopping! Dash it all, I thought we might have an excursion today, what with Phoebe gone and all,” Hugh said, with a frown.

Prudence felt a twinge of guilt at the disappointment on his face. Phoebe’s accusation of jealousy came to mind, but Prudence dismissed it as nonsense. Hugh’s avuncular manner could in no way be construed as that of a lovelorn swain. He was simply a kindhearted soul who had taken them into his home and was doing his best to protect them from what he saw as the evils of the world. If he was a little overbearing, then she must forgive him, for he meant well.

Today, however, Prudence could not indulge him; she had an appointment of her own to keep. “I am sorry, Hugh, but I had hoped to go to Mayfair, and there are just some things a woman must buy on her own, if you know what I mean. After all, even us ancient spinsters need personal items.”

Hugh blustered a bit. Although he ignored her gibe, he was obviously put out by her defection, and looked as if he might sulk a bit. Beyond admonishing her to take her maid with her, however, he did not protest further, and, ducking her head to hide her heightened color, Prudence called to the young lady they had hired to do for them in town.

Jane came quickly, having been forewarned, and with the blood singing in her veins, Prudence forgot all about Hugh. After all, she was bound for her very first rendezvous, and although she knew the purpose of the meeting was to discuss Ravenscar’s brother, somehow she could not rid herself of a tingling sense of anticipation brought on by the very thought of an assignation with the man who was called the Devil Earl.

*   *   *

Sebastian saw her immediately. She was standing in front of a milliner’s shop, gazing in the window, just as they had planned. He was pleased to note that she was prompt to the minute, although he should have expected as much from her. Most of the women he knew could not be bothered with clocks, but Prudence was different.

Sebastian was quite aware of that as he took a moment to admire her unobserved. Despite her spectacles and her spinsterish dresses, she looked lovely. Again, he wondered if the very fact that she hid her attributes contributed to her appeal, for appeal to him she did—inordinately.

His response to this woman continued to surprise him. Though he had thought himself dead for years, certain parts of his body were stirring to life fairly regularly—in reaction to Prudence Lancaster and her slender, overdressed body. It was astonishing, really, considering that he had known countless women since his dissipated uncle had long ago introduced him to London’s brothels. The memory of his wild youth held no joy for him, and Sebastian felt suddenly sickened, as if the very recollection might taint Prudence.

Ridiculous, he told himself. And yet, Sebastian had never pursued one so innocent as she, and somewhere in the back of his mind was the niggling doubt that he was doing her a disservice. He choked back an amazed laugh at the thought, for he had long ago abandoned any remnants of a conscience.

If she was innocent, then it was part and parcel of the package that was Prudence Lancaster, a package that had brought a glimmer of interest to his stale existence. A package that he was extremely eager to unwrap.

As Sebastian watched, she flicked a glance his way and smiled. The simple act held no trace of coquetry, but only delight, along with an underlying excitement thrumming beneath the surface.

The woman loved intrigue. And puzzles. And Gothic chills. And Sebastian was doing his level best to provide her with them. And yet, she was not alone in her enjoyment. Sebastian realized that he took an absurd amount of pleasure in playing these games with her. Trying to incite her deeply buried passions was well worth his efforts. With a leisurely smile, Sebastian stepped toward her, feeling more alive than he had in years. “Miss Lancaster! How delightful to see you again,” he said smoothly.

To her credit, she played the role of the surprised party to perfection. Only he saw the rapid rise and fall of her breasts that gave away her excitement. Only he saw the gleam in her eyes, masked by those damned spectacles.

“Have you been shopping?” he asked.

“Why, yes, I have a few small purchases,” she answered, a bit breathlessly.

Sebastian’s smile broadened. “If you are finished, can I persuade you to join me?”

“Certainly, my lord. That would be most kind of you,” she answered. She called for her maid, and they walked to where his driver waited with his personal couch and four. Prudence’s shy young attendant Jane was easily persuaded to go up with his driver, assuring them of some privacy. Then Sebastian helped Prudence inside and settled himself upon the opposite seat to study his companion.

Seemingly oblivious of his scrutiny, she leaned back against the cushions, stroking the velvet material with an awed expression on her beautiful features. Sebastian’s gaze slid down to where her gloved hand caressed the elegant furnishings, and his pulse quickened.

“It is quite luxurious,” she said in a hushed voice. “And so dark.” Indeed, Sebastian had commissioned the interior to be done entirely in black, as befitted his reputation. During the day, the windows let in some light, of course, and at night, the lamps could be lit, but still, it was of a piece, unrelieved by any other color or ornamentation.

Most women hated it, but Prudence…Sebastian could see the glitter of interest in her eyes, and he felt the strangest sense of satisfaction. “I assume it meets with your approval,” he said.

“Oh, my! Of course,” she whispered in a husky tone, drawing his attention to her full mouth. Even in the shadows of the coach’s interior, he could see that her lips were trembling. By God, the woman seemed to shiver at the slightest look from him.

Sebastian realized he liked that very much.

Those little shudders of hers were stimulating, for they were evidence of excitement, not dread, and she seemed to surrender to them without the slightest provocation, really. Sebastian felt an answering thrum of interest and wondered what she would be like when fully aroused. The notion grabbed hold of him like a fist, and he shifted uncomfortably.

Just when Sebastian thought he might have to act upon his urges, Prudence leaned forward and fixed him with a questioning gaze. “So, my lord, begin at the beginning. And tell me everything,” she said very seriously.

For one brief moment, Sebastian was tempted to take her up on the request and give her all the details of his sordid existence, but he knew she was talking about James’s disappearance. With an effort, he dragged his mind back to their little mystery.

Somehow, he managed to get out the story with a minimum of difficulty, though he had spoken at length of that night to no one else, not even the Bow Street Runner. In fact, he felt an odd sort of relief after having unburdened himself.
Guilt, Sebastian. Guilt for driving your little brother to some precipitate action.

Yet, Prudence made no such judgment. She listened calmly, without comment, and when he was done, he had the pleasure of watching her ruminate over the details while she chewed on the tip of one finger. Sebastian wondered idly
if she always needed new gloves to support this endearing little habit. Perhaps he should buy her a pair. Hell, maybe he would buy her a dozen pairs, and have her rub the soft surface against his skin!

As intriguing as the idea was, Sebastian really wanted to see her hands without covering, naked and ink-stained, as they had been the first time he noticed them. Although he knew it was ridiculous, just the thought excited him, and he had to force himself to look at something else.

She was done up in a nice day dress, simple but pretty, that covered every inch of her from throat to wrists. There was not a bit of bare flesh on Miss Prudence Lancaster, except that of her face. Although that knowledge ought to amuse him, Sebastian found himself aroused by the prospect of undoing all that clothing.

If he were dressing her, Sebastian decided, he would reveal those smooth, golden shoulders of hers and use bold colors to bring out the inner passion that burned brightly inside of her. Few would look beneath the surface for that lode of hunger, but Sebastian had seen it in her work. And he alone would be the one to mine it, as he had in Lady Buckingham’s library.