To her added surprise, instead of a discourteous remark, he actually smiled at her. “I am glad to hear that, Lady Prudence. I would hate to think we are keeping you from events that are near and dear to your heart.”
Well. That ended the truce, apparently.
Mr. Goddard shot a frustrated glance at his partner. “One other thing we need to discuss, my lady. It appears, due to a mistake on my part, it has become necessary to move your show back by two days.”
“Oh?” The slight twinge in her stomach warned that this might be a way for the men to eventually pull the show altogether.
“Yes. I had forgotten that the artist before you requested two extra days for his show. I do hope this is not an inconvenience for you.” Mr. Goddard’s sincere words and demeanor eased her fears.
Prudence glanced over at Mr. Reeves who sat back in his chair, arms crossed, grinning at her look a loon. Did the dratted man think she would object? Prove that she was indeed lofty and high in the instep? Well, if that was the case, he was in for a surprise. “Why, Mr. Goddard, that is no problem at all.” She turned toward Mr. Reeves. “If those dates conflict with my social life, I guess I will have to disappoint a hostess or two. You see, I have no problem balancing every part of my life.”
Mr. Reeves scowled, apparently unhappy with her granting the concession.
With those words, Prudence gathered up the papers. Turning on her heel, she called over her shoulder, “Good day.”
“Wait, Lady Prudence!” Mr. Goddard hurried after her.
He caught her just as she made it to the front door. “I apologize for my partner. I just want to reiterate how very happy we both are that you have consented to allow us to showcase your work.” He opened the door for her and escorted her to the waiting carriage.
Prudence took the groom’s hand as she stepped up into the vehicle. “Please don’t worry, Mr. Goddard. I am a professional artist. I will not allow anything to interfere with this show. I am delighted you want to display my paintings. That is enough for me.”
The groom closed the door and the carriage moved away from the art gallery.
* * *
Later that afternoon, Prudence took a break from her painting and joined her mother for tea in the drawing room. Since Monday was not one of her mother’s days to receive callers, it was just the two of them.
Once she had her tea fixed as she liked it, with several biscuits on her plate, she turned to her mother. “How did you find Mr. Reeves when he was here for luncheon with us?”
Mother placed her cup in the saucer. “I found him to be quite amicable. Is there a particular reason you ask?”
“Yes. I hate to say this, but he seemed to take a dislike to me the minute we met.”
When her mother’s brows rose, Prudence continued. “He is forever making remarks about my standing in society and seems to think I will abandon my art to marry and become this ton hostess with nothing better to do than hold soirees and teas, abandoning my work and leaving their clients annoyed at my departure.”
“Hmm.” Mother took a bite of her biscuit and chewed thoughtfully. “Ordinarily, I would not speak of something behind another’s back, but Mr. Reeves did share a few things with your father that might explain his dislike of Society.”
Prudence placed her hands in her lap and waited for Mother to continue.
“Father knew a bit about Mr. Reeves when you first told us about your art show. With very little prodding, Mr. Reeves confirmed what Papa already thought.”
“And?”
“Although you are an unmarried lady, I think I can relate this to you without shocking you since I believe, after years on the marriage mart, you know about this sort of thing anyway. It seems Mr. Reeves is the illegitimate son of the Earl of Stanhope.”
“Really?”
“Yes. The situation occurred before he married Lady Stanhope. Apparently, Mr. Reeves’ mother, who was an artist and also the daughter of a baron, was cast aside when she announced her condition to the earl, who was already betrothed to someone else.”
“Oh, dear.” How horrible for the poor woman. While it was always a risky thing for a virtuous woman to give herself to a man outside of marriage, it was truly a dastardly thing that Lord Stanhope had done.
“Yes. From what we know, Mr. Reeves had an excellent upbringing and was well-educated, but I can’t help but feel his dislike, and most likely distrust, of the nobility has to do with how shabbily his mother had been treated.”
* * *
Several days later, Ash stepped from his carriage and made his way up the steps to Miss Annabelle Dover’s front door. Miss Dover was the ward and niece of one of their patrons. Mr. Dover was a wealthy merchant and wanted his niece to visit the finer attractions available in London. He often turned up at the art gallery with tickets to various events that he handed to Ash with a very broad hint that his niece would love to attend.
This evening they were off to see The King of the Alps and the Misanthrope at the Adelphi Theatre. It was a new play for him, and he was looking forward to it. He wasn’t however, looking forward to Miss Dover’s company.
From the time they had first met, Miss Dover had made it quite clear she was interested in a husband. Since he had no intention of being that husband, their time together was somewhat awkward. In fact, if Mr. Dover had not been one of their best customers, he would not be walking up the steps right now in the upper middle class neighborhood to retrieve the annoying woman.
The man at the door let him in and directed him to the drawing room where Mr. Dover greeted him. “Time for a brandy while we wait for m’niece?”
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Dover.”
They sat on comfortable chairs and sipped their drinks. “You know, Miss Dover comes with quite a dowry. ’Twas left to her by her father—my younger brother—when he died.”
The brandy hit his stomach with a punch. What the devil did a man say to that remark? “How nice for her,” was about all he could think of.
“Yes, yes. Lovely girl, my Annabelle. Would make some man a wonderful wife. Went to one of those highfalutin girls’ schools. The best money could buy.”
“Indeed?” The devil take it, where was the chit? If she didn’t appear soon, Mr. Dover was likely to whip out marriage contracts.
“Ah, here she is now.” He beamed in the direction of the drawing room door, and Ash breathed a sigh of relief. As much as he wasn’t looking forward to her company, it was a much better proposition than sitting here with Mr. Dover who would soon be talking about wedding breakfast menus.
Ash hopped up and bowed. “Good evening, Miss Dover.”
She giggled.
He inwardly groaned. It would be a long night.
A short time later, as they made their way up the steps of the theater, his ears were already bruised from her constant chatter. He’d had a complete account of her day thus far, including her visit to Bond Street, where she simply had to spend time selecting the correct gloves for their outing.
He relieved her of her pelisse and handed it off, along with his greatcoat, to one of the footmen. “Would you care for refreshments before the play begins?”
“Yes. I would love a lemonade,” she gushed like a young miss barely out of the schoolroom instead of the woman of four and twenty years that she was.
“Well, hello, my boy, fancy meeting you here.” Lord Pomeroy slapped him on the back, thankfully on his way to get the lemonade, not after he had it in his hands.
“Good evening, my lord.” He couldn’t help himself, he looked around. “Are Lady Pomeroy and Lady Prudence with you this evening?”
“Of course, of course. They wouldn’t let me out of the house without them.” He grinned. “Why don’t you join us? Do you have a box?”
“No, I don’t. We have seats on the lower level.” He waved in the direction of Miss Dover who watched him like a hawk. “I am here with Miss Dover.”
“Wonderful, wonderful. Why don’t you both join us? We have a box here
, lovely seats. Good view.”
Now, why the devil did his spirits pick up at the thought of spending time with Lady Prudence? He assured himself it was merely because she would be a nice distraction from Miss Dover.
He was still annoyed at Lady Prudence’s gracious acceptance of her art show being moved back two days. He had been so certain she would rebel at the idea of having to accommodate another person. Still not prepared to give her the benefit of the doubt regarding her position in society versus his, he nevertheless found himself thinking more and more about the lady and how he hated the classes that separated them.
He and Pomeroy fetched the lemonade for the ladies, again chatting amiably while they did. Lord Pomeroy walked with him to Miss Dover who he made quite a fuss over. She was thrilled to join their group. Except her tone changed a bit when they joined Pomeroy’s family and the introductions were made.
“How do you do, Lady Prudence. An artist, you say? Oh, how ambitious. I am afraid I can’t draw very well myself.” She clung to Ash’s arm and looked up at him as if they were more than just friends. Truth be known, they weren’t even friends. “I am spending my time preparing for when I will become a wife.”
Lady Prudence’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, how nice for you. I am sure you will be a wonderful one.”
Before Ash could disavow her of what Miss Dover attempted to imply, the announcement was made for the crowd to take their seats as the performance was about to begin.
Pomeroy had been correct. The seats were wonderful. He had often thought of purchasing a box and certainly had the money to do it, but didn’t want to be considered an upstart, one of those who were not of the haut ton but pretended to be. He wanted no part of that group.
He wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but he found himself with Miss Dover on one side and Lady Prudence on the other. Lord and Lady Pomeroy sat behind them, smiling like proud parents viewing their little ones as they recited their letters.
As Miss Dover continued to chatter, leaning so close to him that she was practically in his lap, he took a quick glance at Lady Prudence who viewed him with unashamed laughter in her eyes. “Congratulations on your betrothal, Mr. Reeves.”
“I am not betrothed!” He tried to keep his voice low but heard the desperation in his tone.
“Really? Does Miss Dover know that?” She smiled and looked at the playbill in her hand.
He ran his finger around the inside of his cravat as the curtain rose on the performance.
6
Pru stepped out of her carriage and quickly took the umbrella from the footman’s hand and hurried to the door at Middleton’s, the art supplier she generally used for her needs. The air was so cool and damp that despite her pelisse with the fur collar and warm gloves she was still shivering when she arrived at the front door.
She closed the umbrella and placed it into the stand near the entrance.
“Good morning, Lady Prudence. You must be in dire need of colors to be out and about in this weather.” Mr. Middleton approached her with his usual cheerful demeanor.
Mr. Middleton had always been one of her favorite people. She’d been coming to his store since she was still a young girl. He’d always encouraged her, and she’d even found the nerve to bring one of her paintings to him one time. With a critical eye, he viewed the piece and was very flattering about the work, which kept her happy for months. “Yes, I am in need of more supplies. In fact, I don’t think I told you that Reeves and Goddard are sponsoring an art show for my work!”
His genuine smile warmed her insides. “How wonderful, my lady. When will this be?”
She gave him the date. “I am very excited and honored that they perceive my work worthy of a show.” She still had a hard time believing that she would have an art show.
He gave her a respectful bow. “I am sure it will be quite a success. I will be sure to attend, if you so desire.”
“Oh, yes, please do. I would be honored. I will make sure you are sent an invitation.”
He rubbed his hands together. “What can I get for you today? I am sure you wish to be home shortly in front of a nice fire with a warm cup of tea in your hands.”
Pru fumbled in her reticule. “I did quite an inventory, and I have a list.” She handed the piece of vellum to the man. “I will browse while you take care of this.”
She breathed in deeply. She absolutely loved everything about Middleton’s, a colour manufacturer and paperhanging warehouse at 80 and 81 St Martin’s Lane. She’d spent so many hours in the establishment over the years that she knew every item Mr. Middleton, and his father before him, carried in the store and what they could special-order for her.
“Good morning, Mr. Middleton. Nasty day out there.”
Pru swung around at the sound of Mr. Reeves’ voice.
“I understand you are doing an art show for Lady Prudence,” Mr. Middleton said.
She didn’t make her presence known immediately. She waited to hear what Mr. Reeves had to say.
“Yes. I am very impressed with her work. She is truly a gifted artist, one you only see every ten years or so.”
Pru blushed and smiled at Mr. Reeves’ words, one of the few times he said something nice about her.
“Your artist is here now.” Mr. Middleton gestured in her direction.
Mr. Reeves handed Mr. Middleton a piece of paper. “These supplies, please.” Then he walked to where she stood in front of a stack of canvases. “Good morning, Lady Prudence.”
“Are you following me, Mr. Reeves?” She hoped her smile softened her words, but it did seem odd to her that she’d never met the man before the art show arrangements and now it seemed wherever she was, he popped up.
He offered a slight bow. “Not at all. It appears with all the art stores in London, both you and I patronize the same one.”
Suddenly aware of his closeness and the dimness in the part of the store where they stood, she fumbled for something to say. “What need have you of art supplies?”
“I am an artist myself.”
Pru was taken aback. “Indeed? I didn’t know that.”
“Ah, there is quite a bit about me that you don’t know.” His words rolled off her like warm honey, causing tingles to erupt in her middle. Her mouth dried up, and she could think of nothing intelligent to say. Odd, that, since she’d spent years at social events, flirting, bantering, and generally engaging in social discourse without any trouble at all.
The awkward silence was shattered by Mr. Middleton’s voice. “Mr. Reeves, I have a question about an item on your list.” He waved the piece of paper in his hand. “Lady Prudence, I have all of your items ready. Do you wish to have them sent to your home?”
Pru took a deep breath and returned her regard to Mr. Middleton. “Yes, please do.” Then a sense of recklessness nudged her, and she turned to her nemesis. “Mr. Reeves, I would very much like to see your paintings.”
Clearly taken aback, he stared at her. “I am afraid they are not quite up to your standard, Lady Prudence. With me ’tis more of a hobby.”
She nodded. “Nevertheless, I would like to see them.” Why she felt compelled to discover this part of the man confused her. He’d made it clear from the start that although he respected her work, he didn’t trust her as a committed artist and probably didn’t even like her. That aside, the time they’d spent together had been quite enjoyable, if for no other reason than she enjoyed besting him.
She found him to be amicable, intelligent, and well-informed when he’d joined her family for luncheon and again while they chatted during the theater intermission. When he was not on his guard to keep a distance from her, he could be very pleasant. Now, she found another facet of him and although not sure why, she wanted to see the artist side of him.
“Very well. I am not about to deny one of our artists anything that I am able to provide. When would you care to visit my studio?”
Pru shrugged. “Now?”
“Ah, the lady doesn’t even give me the chance to hide
my less than stellar pieces before she casts judgment on my work.”
“Mr. Reeves, your work is quite good. I’ve told you that before. You have apparently inherited your mother’s talent,” Mr. Middleton said. “If you wish to give the lady a tour, please go on ahead, and I will send on your order as well as Lady Prudence’s.”
Mr. Reeves turned to her. “My lady, it appears we are being asked to leave the shop.” He extended his arm. “If you will allow me to escort you?”
She grinned and took his arm, and they made their way to the door. Pru grabbed her umbrella, sitting right alongside Mr. Reeves’.
“You may dismiss your carriage if you wish, and I will escort you home when we are through.” Mr. Reeves studied the sky as they moved away from the door.
She panicked at the idea of riding in a carriage alone with Mr. Reeves. The strange feelings he evoked in her were confusing at best and frightening at worst. “That is not necessary. If you will advise my driver to proceed to the gallery, I will meet you there.”
He bowed stiffly. “As you wish.”
It was quite apparent from his terse words that he mistook her words as a rejection of him. She sighed inwardly. She didn’t want him to think so, but she was certainly not prepared to tell him that he raised strange feelings in her. Especially since she didn’t understand them herself. Or perhaps she did and did not want to dwell on it.
He offered his hand which she took to climb into the carriage.
* * *
Ash walked away from Lady Prudence’s carriage after speaking with her man, then waved to his driver and entered his own. Why had he been so stupid as to offer Lady Prudence a ride in his carriage? Of course, she would refuse him. She would probably never want to be seen with him outside of the gallery, let alone—horrors—riding in his carriage. Would he never learn his place?
It was time to quell the attraction he felt for her and the reactions she caused in him. With all the women he’d known over the years, why was it the one woman who he could never have who brought out the strong feelings he experienced every time he was near her? Lady Prudence was a lady, and he was not a gentleman.
For the Love of the Gentleman Page 4
