The Perfect Rake (25 page)

Prudence snuffled into his handkerchief, unbearably moved.

“Now…” He stood up and said in a very different voice, “You mustn’t disdain the protection of a frippery shag bag and a medium-sized duke with a tendency to stoutness. We can be formidable fellows when we try, you know.” He rubbed her back lightly and added in a soft voice, “Dry your eyes, Miss ImPrudence. We have letters to finish, bags to pack, dragons to rout!”

Prudence gave him a tremulous smile. Having a friend who was young and strong and independent of Grandpapa’s influence
and
willing to stand up for her was a new experience.

“I gather Sir Oswald does not know the situation.”

Prudence shook her head and explained, a little shamefacedly, “No. We deceived him when we came here. I…I forged a letter in Grandpapa’s hand. Great-uncle Oswald welcomed us with open arms and showed us more kindness than my sisters have ever seen in their lives—since Mama and Papa died, that is.” She stopped a moment, unable to speak for the lump in her throat. “Grandpapa is our legal guardian, at least until I come of age—which is the week after next. Once I turn one and twenty, by my father’s will, I am entitled to become my sisters’ guardian.” She did not mention the need to support them as well.

“Then why not ask for Sir Oswald’s support until then?”

“I could not ask it of him. My sisters are right. Grandpapa would not hesitate to lay violent hands on Great-uncle Oswald—he nearly killed a groom once, for some mistake with a horse.”

“But—”

“And though Grandpapa is the elder brother, he is stronger and fitter, for he hunts regularly. Great-uncle Oswald lives a sedentary existence.”

“I would not allow him to harm your uncle.”

She smiled mistily and shook her head. “Thank you, but that is not all. As a younger son, Great-uncle Oswald is entirely dependent on Grandpapa’s good will for his income, you see. I could not bear it if he were thrust into poverty as a result of trying to help us.”

Lord Carradice did not look convinced, so she continued, “Great-uncle Oswald probably would defy Grandpapa, but with no income of his own, he could not support us, and though I shall have money from the sale of some jewels, I couldn’t possibly support Great-uncle Oswald in the style he currently enjoys. He is rather extravagant, you know.” She shook her head decisively. “No, far better that we simply take ourselves out of Grandpapa’s reach until I turn one and twenty. And if Charity and—” She broke off. Edward had not yet asked Charity to wed him. It could still come to naught. “Your cousin said he would help us. A duke is quite powerful in some ways, is he not?”

“Yes,” said Lord Carradice. “And so are the cousins of dukes.”

That brought a glimmer of a smile to her lips. Gideon continued, “So, we are to embark on a journey. And what is our destination to be?”

“I hadn’t though that far ahead,” she admitted. “I just want to get away before he gets here—oh, and I will need to sell some jewelry. I will not have sufficient—”

“You need not sell your trinkets,” he began. “I shall advance a sum—”

“I’m sorry, but I could not possibly accept money from you,” Prudence interrupted him firmly. She added in a softer voice, “Your help is most welcome, Lord Carradice, and I will gladly borrow your cousin’s carriage, but you know it would be most unseemly for me to borrow money from you.”

“Bah! Propriety be hanged—”

“I have jewelry set aside for just this purpose,” Prudence insisted. “And I would appreciate it if you would assist me in the selling of it, for I must confess I do not know where to start.” She looked at him, her eyes troubled. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate—”

Gideon scowled, then sighed and smiled at her ruefully. “I know, and you are quite right. I’m sorry, I should not pinch at you for your scruples. I shall help you sell your baubles, though it goes against the grain. Finish your letter, my dear, and don’t give it another thought. I think I can hear my cousin’s voice in the hall, which will mean your carriage awaits you.”

He left the room to check arrangements with his cousin.

It didn’t take long for Prudence to finish the letter to Great-uncle Oswald. She left it propped up on the mantel in the drawing room, sealed with wax, his name on the front. She hurried upstairs to see to the packing of her things, but there was nothing left for her to do. Her maidservant, Lily, had done it all for her; the bedchamber had been swept clean of her possessions, the portmanteaus were packed and strapped onto the Duke of Dunstable’s somewhat antiquated but undeniably large traveling carriage. Also in the street, being walked up and down by Lord Carradice’s groom, was a dashing phaeton drawn by two magnificent grays.

“Miss Merridew and I have a small commission to perform in the city,” announced Lord Carradice. “We shall travel in the phaeton and catch up with the rest of you.”

“I hope there’s room for me, Miss Prue,” declared a loud voice behind them. Lily stood in the hallway, clutching a bundle to her chest. “I’d rather be skinned alive with a blunt knife and me innards eaten by rats than left behind to face old Lord Dereham!”

“It’s all right, we wouldn’t do that to you,” Prudence assured her. “Of course you shall come with us.”

Lily glanced from the carriage with the crest on the panel to the dashing phaeton and hesitated. “Which carriage are you ridin’ in, miss?”

Lord Carradice said softly, “Lily, it would be best if you traveled in the main coach with the duke. Miss Prudence and I are using the phaeton.”

Prudence opened her mouth to suggest that she needed Lily as chaperone but he caught her attention, and gave her a significant look that encompassed the battered old box. She subsided. He was right. She didn’t want a witness to the shame of having to sell her mother’s jewelry. It was bad enough he knew what straits she was reduced to, but Lily, good soul that she was, would gossip. And besides, she told herself, it would be an hour or so in an open carriage with a groom in attendance. No chaperone was necessary.

Lily’s face fell. “But don’t you and Miss Prudence need me here, me lord?”

“We do, of course, but I think my cousin the duke would be sincerely grateful for your assistance. One mere man with so many young ladies…He’s relying on you, Lily.” He smiled winningly.

“Ah, well, if the duke needs me,” said Lily with the air of one accustomed to the helplessness of dukes. She handed her bundle to a groom and took her place in the carriage, swelling visibly with pride as the duke helped her to mount the steps.

James, their loyal footman, stood in the evening shadows, watching the whole proceedings, doing his best to look nonchalant. Prudence saw the longing in his eyes and realized he was too proud to ask to come with them. “James, we wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind,” she said softly. “Please come with us—if you want to, that is.”

“Oh, thank you, miss. O’ course I want to!” James bowed with alacrity and raced up the servants stairs to fetch his belongings.

“Is there a chimney sweep you’d like to invite, too?” Lord Carradice murmured, and Prudence turned defensively.

But his gaze upon her was warm and lit with approval and understanding, so she explained, “James has been one of our only friends…” She looked up at him. “Until now.”

There was a lump in her throat, making it difficult to speak. Back in Norfolk, many people knew of their situation but had turned a blind eye, leaving five young girls at the mercy of a harsh and twisted man. She cleared her throat and continued, “James risked his position many times in order to protect us—Grace, in particular. We could not possibly leave him behind to face Grandpapa’s wrath.”

“No, of course not,” he said softly. “Loyalty is your middle name, is it not, Miss Imp?”

James came clattering down the stairs with a bundle under his arm. He tossed it up to the roof and climbed up beside the coach driver. Good, thought Prudence. The duke was a welcome escort, but he was not very athletic looking, and Charity was his priority. If James was with them, there would be a strong, masculine arm for Grace and the twins as well.

Her sisters peered out of the coach, looking a great deal less anxious now that the excitement of travel was upon them.

The butler watched the whole thing with a dour expression. He tweaked Lord Carradice’s sleeve and muttered something under his breath. Prudence raised her brows in enquiry.

Lord Carradice explained, “Niblett here is concerned that my cousin and I are kidnapping you and your sisters, not to mention half the staff. I hope you will reassure him.”

“Of course nobody is being kidnapped, Niblett,” Prudence assured him. “We’ve been called away on an urgent family matter. I’ve left a letter for my great-uncle in the drawing room. Please make certain he gets it on his return. I shall write again when we arrive at our destination.”

“And where would that destination be, miss?” inquired Niblett.

“Oh, it’s all in the letter,” she said vaguely. Even had she decided on a destination, she wouldn’t tell Niblett. He was the sort of butler who loved gossip and who would tell her grandfather everything at the drop of a guinea, or perhaps five.

“Oh, you can tell Niblett, my dear.”

Prudence tried frantically to catch his eye, but Lord Carradice seemed oblivious.

“My cousin and I have planned the journey in detail. We are going initially to my lodgings, for there is something I must drop off. Then we’re off to my house.” He added helpfully, “To my house, in Derbyshire. And thence, north, to my cousin Dinstable’s seat, in the far reaches of Scotland.”

Prudence groaned.

“Oh, Niblett won’t betray us, my dear girl,” Lord Carradice assured her. “Will you, Niblett?” He slipped a folded banknote in the butler’s direction.

Niblett bowed in majestic, creaky assent and pocketed the banknote without a flicker of awareness.

Prudence was aghast. “I wish you had not done that,” she said as he assisted her into the phaeton. “Niblett is not to be trusted with any secret. The moment anyone offers him even the paltriest sum of money, he will tell all.”

“I’m sure we can rely on Niblett to do exactly what we wish.” Gideon took Prudence’s hand in a firm, soothing grip. “Trust me, Miss ImPrudence, I am an excellent judge of character.”

Prudence looked unconvinced.

Lord Carradice put on his driving gloves and picked up the ribbons of the phaeton. He nodded at his cousin, who signaled back, and the large coach rumbled away over the cobblestones, everybody waving madly. Lord Carradice signaled his groom, who released the horses’ heads and leaped up behind as the phaeton moved off down Providence Court.

Behind them, Niblett smirked as he closed the front door.

Chapter Twelve

“The very instant I saw you, did
My heart fly to your service.”

W
ILLIAM
S
HAKESPEARE

A
S THE CARRIAGE WHEELS RATTLED OVER THE COBBLES,
P
RUDENCE’S
hand stole to her breast where Phillip’s betrothal ring hung hard and heavy against her heart.

It ought to be Phillip who was helping her now, not Lord Carradice.

And it ought to be Phillip who dominated her dreams at night and her thoughts by day…not Lord Carradice.

Gaslights illuminated his profile in momentary flashes as the phaeton twisted and turned through the maze of streets. She held herself rigid and apart from him but could not prevent herself from bumping lightly against his shoulder and thigh each time the high-slung carriage swayed and rocked. She tried to ignore the unsettling sensations each moment of contact caused her, tried to keep her back ramrod straight, but it was difficult. What she really wanted was to cling to his arm and feel his strength supporting her.

Once off the main thoroughfares, the streets were eerily quiet. Though they were by no means the only ones abroad at this hour, they were the only open carriage. She shivered, though the night was not at all chilly.

She leaned back a little to get a clearer view of Lord Carradice’s profile and observed him obliquely, disturbed by the tenor of her thoughts. Over the past few weeks she’d done her level best to dismiss him from her mind and heart, telling herself sternly that he was frivolous and unreliable and that she was foolish and faithless and wanton at heart, as Grandpapa said.

She’d been warned by Lady Jersey and others that Lord Carradice had merely been entertaining himself with her until something better came up. Bored persons of the ton did that, they’d explained: Take up a person for a time and make much of them, then drop them for no reason, cutting them dead the next time they met. It was the way of the the sophisticated world.

And yet tonight, she’d entrusted herself and her sisters’ safety to them without a moment’s hesitation. A notorious rake and his supposedly misanthropic cousin. And now she was alone in the darkness with the rake and far from fearing for her reputation, she took great comfort from his presence and his words of reassurance.

Who could have known the frivolous rake would turn out to be such a source of strength and comfort? It had been hard enough to withstand his blandishments before…Now it was going to be even harder.

“Is it far?” she asked.

He glanced at her sideways. “The jewel broker, you mean? No, not far, in fact, just around the corner.” His grays slowed and turned into a narrow street, where the buildings were crowded together. It was the sort of neighborhood where no gaslights burned. Were it not for Lord Carradice’s carriage lights, the darkness would have been total, for none of the houses showed even a single light burning.

Prudence clutched the battered box tight against her. “I never imagined it would be possible to sell jewelry at this hour of the evening. Are you sure it can be done?”

He smiled and eased his horses to a walk in front of a tall, narrow building. “I’m sure. I have done business with this fellow many a time. He will not mind being disturbed.”

Prudence nodded. The sharp edges of the box bit into her chest. It was foolish, she told herself firmly; she’d known for weeks, months, that she would need to sell her mother’s jewelry, and yet now that the moment had arrived, she wanted to cling to it, to the last physical mementos of Mama and Papa.