Malia Martin (26 page)

Of course, it did not help her mood at all that her plan to find Mr. Watson seemed nearly impossible as she stared out at the masses of people in the room. She had no idea what the man looked like. In fact, she could be absolutely wrong in assuming that he was even a peer, though, she was rather sure that he was.

On top of the futility of her search for Mr. Watson, Prudence was also becoming increasingly frustrated. Her husband had still not found it necessary to come to her bed.

Not that she would ever allow him the pleasure of her body, of course, but it would be nice if he would at least show the interest of trying.

“There is a book, fascinating, truly, about getting tea stains out of every kind of fabric imaginable,” Mrs. Parker said. “I was thrilled when I found it at the lending library Tuesday last.”

Lady Trent nodded sagely. “Ah, yes, I think I know of which book you speak, Trudy.”

Prudence decided that she really had to quit this particular group, or she would probably say something shocking just to elicit some excitement.

“Excuse me,” she murmured. “I am feeling the heat. I think I shall take some air.”

“Of course, dear,” Mrs. Parker said. “Now, about this lemon business, Winifred, how many of the fruits would you need to do, let’s say, this ballroom?”

Prudence backed away, wound her way through the throngs of people to an open doorway, and plunged outside. She could make out a very beautiful garden in the moonlight, and so Pru went across the veranda and made her way down the stairs.

The dark night enveloped her, and she let out a sigh of relief. She was sick to death of people constantly staring at her and wanting to ask her questions about Captain Ashley.

Pru took in a deep lungful of fresh air and grimaced. She could not quite get used to air that actually had a texture, filled as it was with soot and sour smells. Spying a bench, Pru stalked deeper into the garden and plopped down on the cool, hard seat.

It was a lovely garden, at least what she could see in the dark seemed very well kept up. Prudence closed her eyes for a moment and enjoyed the silence. She could make out the slight scent of roses. Obviously, they were not close, but they were somewhere, and they smelled divine. A lovely change from the overcrowded ballroom. A lovely change from most of the scents of London, actually.

How she missed the sea. She wanted to kick herself for taking Gravesly quite for granted. Of course she never reveled in the beauty of the place or the sweetness of the people until she had both things stripped from her.

Damn James anyway.

Pru leaned over, propped her elbows on her knees, and dropped her chin in her hands. How on earth was she going to clean up the mess she’d made of her life?

“Prudence!”

Pru jumped and toppled over backwards into the hedge. “Damn you, James,” she hissed, thrashing about. She heard a ripping sound and rolled her eyes. “Now you’ve gone and ruined my dress.”

She felt her husband’s large hand wrap around her arm and pull her free of the clinging bush.

“Did you have to sneak up on me like that?” She pushed away from James and started picking leaves from her bodice. “You scared me near unto death!”

“Sh!”

“Excuse me?” Prudence stopped and planted her fists on her hips. “Did you just shush me? Because, I must tell you, James, no one in my life has ever shushed me.”

“Well someone ought to have a long time ago.”

Prudence blinked through the dark at her husband.

“It is not at all the thing to be out here alone, Pru. People will wonder.”

“Lord but their lives must be a huge bore to make wondering about me out in the garden interesting.”

“Please, Prudence …”

“Oh, go please yourself.” She glared at him. “What are you doing here anyway?” She had not seen her husband since he had left her at the first soirée the night before. She rather thought that he had not slept at Ashley House at all.

“I had meant to come collect you for a dance,” he said, “but I could not possibly take you back in now. You look as if I’ve compromised you under a bush.”

“That’s not bloody likely.”

“Really, Prudence, must you continue to try to shock? ’Tis like dealing with a child.”

Pru made a sound of disgust. “And what else would you expect, James, when you act the overbearing guardian?”

They stood silently glaring at each other for a long moment. And then Prudence sat back down on the bench with a sigh.

“James,” she said, “we are married. I do realize that neither of us truly wanted this outcome, but here it is. Could we not make the best out of this situation?”

“I am not changing my mind about Clifton.”

She really wanted to scream. “Well, I will tell you right now, James,” Prudence said instead, “I will not allow you to sell Chesley House.”

“Let us speak of these matters in the privacy of our home, Prudence.”

“Our home? That monstrosity you call a home is most definitely not mine, and it never will be. I shall never feel at home there.” Prudence felt tears burn the backs of her eyes. “The only home I shall ever know is Chesley House.”

“Don’t cry.”

Pru stood again quickly. “Yes, sir!” She pretended to salute her husband.

He shook his head and looked away from her. “If we can come to some agreements, I will not sell Chesley House.”

“Really?” Pru asked wanting more than ever to slap James’s gorgeous face. “So you have found another thing to use in getting my complete compliance to your frivolous plans.”

“They are not frivolous.”

“Right, they are just shallow and idiotic.”

Silence met her statement, and Pru felt a twinge of guilt. She really did not enjoy being angry and mean, and it bothered her that James’s new persona had brought such things into her life on a constant basis.

“What is happening, James?” she asked now. “Can’t you see the jeopardy Gravesly faces without me? Doesn’t that bother you at all?”

“I think, Prudence, you overestimate your importance. Gravesly will be just fine.”

Prudence pushed her husband out of the way and paced. “No, it will not, James.” She stopped and stared dejectedly at a bush. “And you should not make Clifton leave the country,” she said.

“I do not trust Clifton. I do not trust you, for that matter.”

“Then I guess I shall be the next to be banished from England.”

“No, you will follow my rules and stay in London as my wife.”

Blood pounded in her temples. She whirled around. “Really? Well, then, the least you could do is make love to me!”

“Sh!”

“Do not shush me, James.”

“Then do not yell things of a personal nature in public.”

“James,” Pru managed to ground out between her teeth as she grabbed her husband’s cravat and pulled his face close to hers, “if you are so exacting with your rules, shouldn’t you be coming to my bed nightly?”

James said nothing, but took an audible breath.

Prudence thought of their wedding night. It now seemed to be from another lifetime. And, suddenly, she just wanted it back, even if it wasn’t real. “I am an unhappy woman,” she said to her husband. “You have bullied me and threatened me, and you have made me very angry. I am worried about Gravesly, upset about the departure of my devoted butler, and extremely tense about this new life you have decided I must lead. Now, I happen to know that having intimate relations does not make everything happy and wonderful in a marriage, but let me tell you, dearest, it goes a long way in reducing tension. If you want me to continue going to these little parties and actually keeping a smile on my face, you will give me a tiny taste of the only happiness that you can give me, and fast.”

“Really, Pru, this is all rather sordid of you, don’t you think?”

“You have seen nothing yet, dearest husband.”

The man looked thoroughly shocked, but Prudence was nearly going crazy with desire, anger, and frustration, and the only thing she had the possibility of diffusing was the desire. Except that her husband had suddenly decided that it was all too easy to keep his hands off of her.

Odious man.

“Must I remind you, Prudence, that you have absolutely no leverage with which to make deals?” her husband asked softly. “I can have Clifton thrown into Newgate with a moment’s notice.”

Prudence narrowed her eyes and let go of her husband’s cravat. “Are you truly this shallow, James? I just really cannot fathom it. You would trade a man’s life, a town’s livelihood, for a place in society?”

James straightened away from her, a muscle jerking in his jaw.

And she knew in that instant that there was something going on behind her husband’s mask that went much further than just needing to be accepted by society. And, of course, she should have realized that a long time ago. She remembered his cryptic remarks in the coach on the way to Brighton.

“You speak lightly of something you don’t understand,” he said darkly.

Prudence nodded. If she could understand, she knew that she would be able to reach James Ashley. And then she would have the key to taking back control. “You have said that exact thing to me before, James. Perhaps you should explain it to me so that I might understand.”

James turned away from her. “I shall go bring the carriage around and meet you at the back gate so that you will not have to go through the ballroom.” And he left without another word.

P
ru stamped her foot. She had never stamped her foot in her life, but this situation definitely called for the stamping of feet. It could perhaps even call for the gnashing of teeth for that matter.

That would have to come later, though, for now she had company. Pru took a deep, calming breath. “Do come out from behind the tree, sir, it is so very uncouth to skulk.”

The dark outline of a tall, gangly man moved and came toward her. “And here I thought I was doing such a good job at my skulking.”

“You are rather horrible at it, actually, Viscount Leighton. I do hope it is not something you must do often.”

“No, I do try not to most of the time.”

“Well, good, then.”

“You are very straightforward, Mrs. Ashley, as I must confess that I overheard your conversation with your husband.”

“Yes, well, I do like to let people know what I expect.”

“Of course, and I admire that completely. But, if you would permit me, I do think I could be of a bit of help to you in your predicament.”

Pru frowned. “Which predicament would you be referring to, my lord?”

“I am sure you will have to excuse me for being a bit forward, but the predicament of wishing your husband to pay attention to you,” the man stopped and cleared his throat. “Well, pleasuring you, shall we say?”

Pru laughed. “And you find
me
straightforward, my lord?”

“Refreshingly so.”

“Hmmm.” Pru contemplated Viscount Leighton. “So, my lord, am I to surmise that you have had experience with the predicament in which I find myself?”

“Mrs. Ashley, I understand men, that is all that is truly needed here.”

“And you wish to help me?”

“I would love to.”

“Why, my lord?”

The man smiled, his mouth wide and his teeth very white. “I believe wholeheartedly, Mrs. Ashley, that the world would be a far better place if we all just enjoyed each other. I do wish to help you in your quest to do this very thing with your husband.”

Pru was sure there was more to the viscount’s offer than he let on. “I must admit to being a country bumpkin, my lord. I have not even been in London a week. But I’m rather sure that this conversation is strange, is it not?”

“Not, actually. I have heard stranger.”

“Really?”

“May I drive you in the park tomorrow, Mrs. Ashley, say about three o’clock?”

Prudence tapped her finger against her skirts for a moment. “Surely there is something terribly improper about this.”

“Surely …” The viscount nodded. “But I do not enjoy being proper, so I don’t usually try. May I come round at three, then?”