The Perfect Rake (15 page)

Prudence, her hand on Grace’s shoulder, watched as the twins carefully tucked in their skirts to make room for their little sister. She’d seen for herself the impact her beautiful sisters had made on Lord Carradice. He’d barely looked at them—a move that had instantly raised her suspicions.
Everyone
stared at her sisters. They were so beautiful that people could not help it. Then he’d instantly tried to tempt them away from her protection by offering them a ride in his elegant landau.

She would scotch his rakish game! She had no intention of letting him take her sisters for a ride. She had evidence enough from that…that
incident
on Cleopatra’s barge that his reputation as a rake was well deserved; she would protect her innocent and lovely sisters from his advances if it was the last thing she did!

“Come along, Grace dear,” she said. Once Grace was seated, there would be no room for anyone else. Prudence shot Lord Carradice a look of pure triumph…and was shocked to receive a blazingly triumphant smile in return.

What on earth could he be so pleased about? He must see by now that there was no room for him in the landau. She had rescued her beautiful sisters, had cleverly bundled them out of his way, with the assistance of his quiet, eminently respectable cousin the duke…and left herself alone with a rake with only a footman’s protection, she realized suddenly. Surely
she
could not be his prey?

But there was a distinctly wolfish gleam in his smile as he helped Grace up the steps, a gleam that started a thrumming in Prudence’s blood. She remembered Cleopatra’s barge, and swallowed.

She could
not
be alone with him.

She was not alone, she told herself firmly; there were hundreds of people in the park; respectable people, people who would ensure nothing could happen to her. And she had a big burly footman at her command. James would protect her from any untoward advances Lord Carradice might make toward her.

The trouble was, Lord Carradice didn’t need to make any advances. He set her heart a fluttering with just a look, a glance. And his lazy, wicked, crooked smile. Dear Lord, what that smile did to her insides…

She must not be alone with Lord Carradice, not even in a crowd of hundreds in the middle of Hyde Park with James the footman at her elbow. It was not safe. She snatched Grace back to the ground, almost tumbling her out of the carriage in her anxiety.

“There is not enough room in the landau, Grace, dear,” she said firmly. “If you try to squash into it you will crush your sisters’ gowns. Stay and walk with me, my love.”

Grace’s mouth opened to protest but Prudence hurriedly nipped her arm and her little sister subsided. She glanced from Lord Carradice back to Prudence and frowned. Prudence avoided the question in her gaze. Grace might be young and innocent, but she was not at all stupid.

The landau moved off, the sisters gaily waving, the duke looking stunned to be seated among such a gathering of femininity. Prudence watched them go, then in a determined fashion, linked arms with Grace.

“Oh, no, that is not at all the fashionable mode of promenading,” Lord Carradice said, and in an instant he had inserted himself casually between the sisters, taking one on each arm. He smiled down at Prudence, and his arm tightened, pressing hers to his big, warm side. “This is how it’s done, Miss Merridew. Is it not much better?”

Prudence shivered. No, it wasn’t better at all. She could feel his strength, his warmth, could smell the faint smell of clean linen and freshly shaven man. It was much worse.

“You know I am betrothed,” she reminded him in an elaborately casual tone.

He chuckled, deep, low, and lazy. Prudence felt it vibrate clear though to her bones.

On the other side of him, Grace gasped. “Prue! I thought that was supposed to be a deadly dark secret!”

Hastily Prudence changed the subject. “Lord Carradice was most interested in the Egyptian reticule you made for me, Grace. He thought it very unusual.”

Gideon glanced down at the young girl on his arm. “Aha! So you are the perpetrator of that—”

Prudence gripped his arm hard. “Yes, indeed, Grace. Lord Carradice admired the workmanship immensely.” She sent him a severe look and added, “Didn’t you sir?”

“Er, yes, quite,” Lord Carradice responded. “Tremendously solid, er, workmanship, Miss Grace. I was much struck by it.” He paused then added, “Very much struck.”

Prudence spluttered a little at his effrontery.

He sent her a mischievous look and added in a thoughtful tone. “In fact, I do not recall when I was so much struck by something as—solidly artistic.” He removed his arm briefly from Grace’s and rubbed his head meditatively. “Your workmanship made a powerful impact on me, I must say. Quite…stunning!” He sighed, and linked arms with Grace again. “I don’t suppose you’d think of making another one for your sister, only in netting. Extremely fashionable at the moment, netting reticules.”

Prudence tried very hard to remain serious. It was a severe struggle. They walked on in silence for a few moments, bowing here and there at passing acquaintances. Finally Prudence mastered herself enough to continue the conversation. “My sister is fascinated by ancient Egypt, my lord. As are we all.” Perhaps if he thought them a family of bluestockings, he would lose interest. Gentlemen disliked studious women; she knew that from Phillip.

“Did you truly admire my reticule, sir?” Grace squinted suspiciously up at the tall elegant man.

Gideon glanced down at the creator of the instrument of his downfall and softened. The child looked a lot like Prudence when she frowned. “Yes, Miss Grace, there was much fascination with things Egyptian, after Napoleon invaded that land, though as a fashionable topic, it is quite passé now.”

The little girl’s face fell and, aware of Prudence’s hand tightening on his arm, Gideon hastened to repair the damage. “Of course, the frivolous world of fashion cannot keep anything in its silly head for long. People of sense will wish to study the world of the ancients for many years to come.”

The look of warm approval Prudence bestowed upon him almost took his breath away. It was followed almost as swiftly by a frown as he bent to draw Miss Grace out about her interest.

A mercurial little creature, Miss ImPrudence. More and more she fascinated him.

Just then Prudence was hailed by a pair of ladies in a carriage: Lady Jersey and another lady Gideon didn’t know. Gideon bowed in the ladies’ direction but remained where he was. He was in no way inclined to be questioned by one of the most garrulous leaders of the ton. Bad enough she’d seen in him the park walking with Miss Merridew and her sister.

However, Prudence, being newly come to London and still dependent on Lady Jersey’s approval, had no option but to go over. She gestured to Grace to come with her, but Gideon kept Grace’s arm linked in his, and said, “No, no. You go ahead and chat to the ladies, Miss Merridew. Miss Grace will not mind staying behind to entertain me, will you Miss Grace?”

Miss Grace agreed placidly enough. Miss Prudence, on the other hand, gave him a searing, mistrustful glare as she stepped forward to greet Lady Jersey and her friend.

Gideon grinned. He would now find out the truth about Miss ImPrudence’s so-called betrothal. He looked thoughtfully at Prudence’s little sister. She stared back at him with open candor, a small, solemn angel with strawberry blonde curls and celestial blue eyes. He’d never had much to do with young girls, having no sisters or female cousins, but he flattered himself he could handle females of all ages.

“Er, do you have a doll, Miss Grace?”

“I used to have a doll, but Grandpapa burned her.”

“Ah,” Gideon did not know how to reply to that. It occurred to him there might be an opening there for bribery. “Would you like to have a new d—”

“My sister was worried about being alone with you. She made me come with her instead of going for a drive.”

Gideon was nonplussed by such plain speaking. “Oh well—”

“You’re the man who pretended to Prudence that you were really a duke, aren’t you?” The angelic blue eyes were fixed on his face.

Gideon made a careless gesture. “A small misunderstanding—”

“But you did, didn’t you? You pretended to be the Duke of Dinstable.” The small angel smiled up at him seraphically.

“Well, yes, I did,” admitted Gideon, “but it was a mere—Ouch! What the devil!” He bent down, rubbing his shin, and stared at the angel in shock. “What the dev—er, deuce did you do that for? It hurt!”

“Good,” said the angel. “I was afraid these new shoes would not be sturdy enough.”

“Good?” Gideon repeated indignantly. “Look here, I don’t know what you did in the country, but in London you can’t go around kicking people on—”

“Why not?” demanded the angel, a pugnacious tilt to her chin.

“Well, er, it’s just not done!”

“But if people deserve kicking, what else can I do?”

Gideon rubbed his bruised shin and considered this fraught path. “In what way did I deserve kicking?”

“You played a horrid trick on my sister Prue. And—”

“Your sister is chock-full of tricks herself—Ow! Will you stop that!” He rubbed the other shin.

“My sister Prudence is
not
full of nasty tricks! She looks after us all and protects us from Gr—people. And she is good and kind and always tries to help everyone, and nobody ever helps her. She risked everything to get us to London and had a perfectly splendid plan to save us and then Great-uncle Oswald ruined everything, and poor Prue blames herself, but she cannot help being plain and—”

“Plain? Why the devil does everyone keep saying she is plain?” declared Gideon in exasperation. “Do you all need spectacles?”

Grace’s diatribe stopped. She stared at him as if considering something. Gideon edged back, mistrusting the look in her eyes.

“You don’t think Prudence is plain?” she repeated.

“Of course I don’t! Rash, yes. Mercurial, certainly, but plain?” He snorted.

Grace frowned. “But you’ve seen her with the others, haven’t you?”

“What others?”

“My sisters,” She gestured in the direction of the long-departed landau.

“Oh, those yellow-haired chits? Yes, I saw them. What about it?”

Grace tilted her head and eyed him with solemn consideration. “So, you think Prudence is pretty…“

Gideon gave her a severe look. “You’ll not distract me so easily, miss. When I have something to say I’ll say it to your sister, not to some brat who goes around kicking people.”

She seemed to find this a satisfactory answer. “Grandpapa used to call me a limb of Satan,” she confided.

He eyed the offending foot pointedly. “Perfectly understandable. And that would be the limb he meant, I’m sure.”

“I never kicked him. I wish I had, though,” she said darkly. “And I will if I see him again.”

Gideon rolled his eyes. “If you go around kicking people, you’ll never take in society and it will embarrass your sisters sorely, I assure you.”

She grinned. “I won’t kick you anymore—as long as you don’t hurt or upset Prudence. I don’t like it when people are horrid to Prudence.”

Gideon couldn’t help warming to the sprite, in spite of his aching shins. He wouldn’t like it if anyone hurt Prudence either, and if they tried he would do a damned sight more than give them a kick! He held out his arm to her. “I assure you, Mistress Limb, I have no intention of harming your sister in any way. Quite the contrary, in fact. And if I did, I should deserve far more than a kicking. Now, shall we stroll on a little?”

She took his arm happily.

“Do you enjoy observing ducks, perchance?” he inquired politely. “There is a duck pond over there.”

“No.”

“In that case we shall not visit them. Let us await your sister on this bench, instead.” They sat down and observed the comings and goings of the fashionable for a time. He glanced across to where Prudence was chatting to the ladies. She was watching him. Gideon felt warmed by her attention. He smiled at Prudence and patted Grace’s hand where it rested on his arm, silent reassurance that he would take good care of her little sister.

Prudence glared back at him horribly. Gideon wondered what unkind things the ladies were saying about him. Gossip was a shocking thing!

He wondered how he could broach the matter of Prudence’s betrothal with The Limb. He didn’t want her to become suspicious again. Neither did his shins.

“Lord Carradice,” The Limb interrupted his musings abruptly. “If you were madly in love with someone, would you become engaged to them and then go off to another country? And expect them to wait for years and years and not even write them very interesting letters?”

He turned to look at her. This was the opening he had hoped for. “Have you been reading your sister’s letters?”

She flushed. “Only a few. And only because I’m worried. But—would you leave someone if you were madly in love?”

He shrugged. “Couldn’t say. Never been madly in love.”

She frowned at him. “But if you were engaged, would you leave the lady behind you for more than four and a half years?”

He shrugged again. “Depends on the lady. If I didn’t want to marry her, I might.”

“What if she were Prudence?”

Gideon scuffed a pattern in the raked path with his foot. It would be most discreet to say nothing. Instead, he heard himself saying, “Any man who leaves a girl like your sister for four and a half years is a thrice-blasted fool…You never know what she might do—waltz off and snag the nearest duke!”

Grace poked his side crossly. “Oh pooh! That was for us, not her, silly!”

Gideon couldn’t see how a false betrothal to his cousin would benefit anyone. He considered it a moment and then, recalling the small angel’s penchant for physical violence, asked diffidently, “I don’t suppose you’d care to explain it all to me.”

She frowned. “I don’t think I should. It is a secret, you know. A deadly dark one.”

“Yes, I
do
know,” Gideon reminded her. “If you recall, your sister mentioned it just a moment ago in front of me. I’m simply curious as to how my cousin the duke was brought into it.” He smiled down at the young girl, so endearingly like her sister, and added, “Come now, Miss Limb, you may trust me. My shins are at your mercy.”