For the Love of the Gentleman

by Hutton, Callie

  As she grew closer, his deep blue eyes, surrounded by full, lengthy lashes regarded her with pleasure. Surely, he wasn’t looking forward to the garden party?

  She would not consider at all that he was merely happy to be in her presence. Thoughts along those lines were dangerous.

  But then there were those kisses…

  “You are looking lovely today, Lady Prudence.” He gave her a slight bow, then extended his arm. Together, they left the house and he helped her into his carriage. She’d ridden in numerous carriages over the years and it was quite obvious that Ash’s was one of the best. Even her sister’s carriage did not offer a more comfortable ride.

  “I am delighted to escort you to your sister’s garden party but do excuse me if I seem to melt into the background. I have never been accepted by your class, and I don’t wish to embarrass your sister.”

  “Whatever are you talking about? If my sister thought your presence would make her uncomfortable, she would not have extended the invitation.”

  “Oh, I don’t think it would cause her discomfort, just all the rest of her guests.” His smirk didn’t hide the tension in his body. His fingertips drumming on his thigh did that.

  “Ash, my sister would never allow anyone under her roof to be snubbed or otherwise ill-treated.”

  “I don’t need a champion,” he snapped.

  “Very well. If that is how you feel, why ever did you agree to come?”

  “Because your sister wanted you to be there. It was obvious you were about to turn her down when I agreed to escort you. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He tugged on the cuffs of his shirt. “But there it is.”

  Nothing further was said before they reached St. Alban’s townhouse. It was an immense place, much larger than all the other houses in the square. Carriages were lined up in front of the pathway with footmen opening coach doors and helping ladies out.

  The door to Ash’s carriage opened, and Barker, one of Phoebe’s footmen, smiled brightly. “Lady Prudence. How nice to see you.”

  “Thank you, Barker.”

  Ash stepped out first and then turned to assist Pru. She smoothed out her skirts and took his arm as they followed the other guests along the side of the house to the large, well-tended garden in the back.

  “Prudence!” Her sister rushed up to her, giving her a fierce hug. She turned to Ash. “Mr. Reeves, welcome to my home.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace. I am delighted to be here.”

  Phoebe latched onto his other arm and walked them to the patio where numerous tables had been set up. Guests wandered the area, footmen hurried in and out of the house bringing trays of drinks and food to be placed on the tables, and maids quickly removed dirty glasses and used plates.

  A group of women standing together turned to regard them as they entered the space. Lady Dumfries, an older countess, raised her lorgnette to peer at them. She quickly whispered a few words to Lady Penrose standing next to her, who then turned to stare at them.

  Phoebe seemed oblivious to their actions and walked them straight to a group of guests standing in a circle. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I make known to you, Mr. Ashton Reeves, the man whose gallery is holding a show for my sister’s artwork in…” She looked at Ash.

  “Ten days.” He added.

  “Indeed?” Lady Mariette asked. “How lovely. I am sure my mother received her invitation.”

  Phoebe began the introductions to the group. Ash had no reason to feel out of place. Everyone treated him as if he belonged there, and he had no problem acknowledging each lady and gentleman.

  In fact, Pru was a bit annoyed to see Lady Mariette shift her position so she stood next to Ash, her eyelashes flapping enough to cause a windstorm.

  10

  Despite his early apprehension, Ash found he was quite comfortable at the garden party. The duchess’ easy acceptance and escort into the group certainly helped. He still didn’t belong here, but at least he could stay long enough for Pru to enjoy herself and appease her sister.

  Nothing had surprised him more than Her Grace’s attitude toward him. Most gently bred young ladies would have swooned if they found themselves in his company. At least, that was what his mother had told him from the time he was old enough to understand.

  The information Mother had provided him with was scant but enough for him to know his father was the bastard, not him. The man seduced his mother, then turned around and married someone else, offering nothing to his lover but shame, scandal, and heartbreak. It wasn’t like she was from another class. As the daughter of a baron, she deserved to be treated better.

  “Mr. Reeves, I have never been to your gallery. I must be sure to visit sometime soon. Would you be willing to give me a tour?” Lady Abernathy, a recent widow, Pru told him, sidled up to him, resting her very generous breast against his arm.

  Since he dealt with the nobility on a regular basis in his gallery, this was not the first time he’d received a veiled invitation from a widow of the ton. In some ways, he was sure they thought bedding a bastard, the illegitimate son of an earl, would be an exciting prospect. A way to step over the line.

  He did not intend to be the pathway into someone’s idea of the forbidden. Besides, since knowing Pru, he felt no desire for a woman.

  Except her.

  “I am certain either myself or my partner, Mr. Goddard, would be pleased to show you around, my lady. You may send a note requesting a day and time, and I will be sure one of us is there.”

  Her eyes snapped at the indirect rejection. She shrugged and took a sip of wine. “Perhaps.” Then she sauntered away, her hips swaying in such a way that he imagined the sight was supposed to make him change his mind.

  Not so.

  “You might have felt you didn’t belong, but the ladies don’t appear to have a problem with you.” Pru stood next to him, watching Lady Abernathy stroll away.

  Choosing to ignore her insinuation, he smiled. “Are you enjoying the garden party?”

  “Yes and no. It’s nice to be outside and not cooped up in my art studio, but at the same time, I can’t help but think of the hours wasted when I could be working on that last painting.”

  “You are a professional, dedicated artist, my lady. You will be finished in time, I am sure.”

  Her brows rose. “My lady?”

  He leaned closer to her. “We are in public, my lady. We don’t wish to scandalize your sister further by referring to each other by our given names.”

  Pru waved her hand. “No matter. I am finished concerning myself with what others think of me. As far as the ton is concerned, I am a spinster and firmly on the shelf.”

  “Ah, up for a scandal are you?” His groin tightened at the idea of what sort of scandal he could provide for her.

  She flushed but stared him straight in the eye. “Perhaps.”

  “’Tis not scandalous enough for you to be showing off your artwork in such a mercenary fashion?”

  “Not at all. I have already decided to donate any money I receive from the art show to sponsor talented youngsters who cannot afford proper art training.”

  He stared at her. “You would do that?”

  “Why not? I don’t need the money, and I am certain there are many children—especially those in poor circumstances—who would benefit from training. In fact, I have thought about possibly opening up an art school for those from unfortunate circumstances.”

  He continued to stare at her, his mouth agape. “Lady Prudence, you are truly an amazing woman.” He lifted this glass to her in a salute.

  “Why are you two huddled over here together? You should be socializing, talking about the art show.” The duchess grinned at them in such a way he had the feeling she was saying—or definitely thinking—more than what she said.

  “Actually, Phoebe, we’re about to leave. I really need to put some time in to finish my last painting on time.”

  The duchess sighed. “I am at least grateful that you attended at all.” She glanced in his dir
ection. “I know she came only because you agreed to escort her.”

  “Which is precisely what you planned,” Pru said.

  Phoebe linked her arm with her sister’s and moved her forward. “I will allow this early escape since you do have to prepare for your art show. But please, Pru, don’t cut yourself off from all social activities. If for no other reason than I will have no one to laugh with. You know how much we enjoy pointing out the haughtiness of our peers.”

  They waited by the front door for his carriage to be brought around. The sisters embraced and kissed, and then he helped Pru into the carriage before turning back to the duchess. “Thank you for your hospitality, Your Grace.”

  “Thank you for coming, Mr. Reeves. I hope to see you again. And not just at the art show.”

  He had no idea what she meant by that—or perhaps he did, but didn’t want to dwell on it—but smiled and nodded.

  Pru sat back and sighed. “I am so glad that is over. If one more young lady cast a sympathetic glance in my direction, I would have done something to really cause a scandal.”

  “I can help with a scandal. At any time. Just let me know.” He grinned at her and was pleasantly surprised when she moved across the space and leaned into him.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  * * *

  Pru could not believe how bold she’d become. Maybe it was the garden party and for the first time at a social event where she truly did not care what everyone thought of her. It was quite freeing.

  Before she could act on her plan to kiss him, he cupped her face in his large hands and covered her mouth with his. There was no question as to who was in control. He tilted her head one way, then another. His tongue swept through her mouth, claiming, demanding, insisting on her complete surrender.

  She complied and slumped in his arms, completely unaware of time or place. His kiss could have been for hours or merely seconds. They could have been riding in his carriage or lying in a meadow of flowers.

  Pru gripped his shoulders when he pulled her so close she felt the thumping of his heart through their layers of clothes. The carriage grew quite warm, and she had the intense desire to remove their clothes, to feel Ash’s warm skin against hers.

  She was becoming totally wanton. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the thought nudged her that she should stop. Then he edged his palm up the front of her pelisse, quickly undid the fasteners, and covered her breast with his hand. He massaged, stroked, caressed, then flicked his fingertip over her nipple, which was already hard and protruding above her stays.

  Someone moaned. She wasn’t sure if it was him or her.

  Suddenly, he pulled away and began to refasten her pelisse.

  “What?” She stared at him, but her mind was so befuddled she had no idea what he was doing.

  He bent and kissed her on the nose as he finished tidying her up. “We have arrived at your home.”

  “Oh.”

  The groom stepped off the back of the carriage and opened the door. Thankfully, Ash had his wits about him and stepped out, turning to help her out. His smirk told her he was pleased, or amused, at her discombobulation.

  They were well inside the front door, with Mason helping her out of her pelisse, when she became aware of her surroundings.

  “Well, Mr. Reeves, my boy. Come on down to my office and have a drink.” Father strolled down the corridor and slapped Ash on his back.

  “Good day, my lord. Yes, a drink would be just the thing. My lady.” With a quick bow to Pru, he followed Father, the two of them already chatting away.

  * * *

  The following week, Pru arrived at the Reeves and Goddard Art Gallery, followed by a footman who carried the final painting to be displayed at the show in two days.

  She was so excited she had been unable to sleep the last few nights. She’d spent her time second-guessing all the paintings she’d given to the gallery for the show. In her mind, she went through each one, thinking of all the places in each painting that were not exactly what she thought was her best work.

  They entered the building, and now that she was here, her nervousness had been replaced with excitement. All the walls were covered with her paintings! She slowly perused the room, almost giddy with anticipation.

  “Good afternoon, Lady Prudence.” Mr. Goddard walked toward her from the door that led to the office behind the gallery. He motioned to the walls. “Are you pleased with our display?”

  “Yes. I am.” She twirled in a circle. Very undignified, but she didn’t care. Seeing her paintings on display like this was scary and thrilling at the same time. They had all been placed strategically, where they were bathed in the best light.

  “I brought the last painting.” She gestured to the footman carrying the wrapped canvas.

  “Excellent. I have the perfect frame for it. Won’t you join us for tea?”

  “Us? Is Mr. Reeves here as well?” She brushed her skirts, not looking Mr. Goddard in the eye, hoping he would believe the flush on her face was excitement for the showing.

  “Yes. We have both been working hard this morning.” He waved toward the door to the office. “Come, join us and we will make sure everything is ready for tomorrow.”

  Ash sat at one of the two desks in the office and looked up when she entered. The smile on his face warmed her insides and began the butterflies dancing a tune in her middle. The sun shown from the window alongside him, bringing gold highlights to his blond hair.

  He stood. “Good afternoon, Lady Prudence. Have you brought us the final painting?”

  Goodness, just being near him sucked the air from the room, and she found herself almost panting. She needed to get her body under control before she made a complete arse of herself. Ash’s knowing grin did nothing to calm her, either.

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat of the mouse that had taken up residence there. “I brought my final painting. Mr. Goddard has it.”

  “Lady Prudence will be joining us for tea.” Mr. Goddard bowed in her direction. “I will see to the tea, since our secretary is out at the moment making final arrangements with the provider of the food for the event.” He waved to a comfortable-looking settee in front of the warming fireplace. “Please have a seat. I will not be long.”

  Ash made his way around his desk and joined her on the settee. He took her hand in his. “Even through your glove, I can feel how cold your hand is.”

  All she could do was shrug and stare at his lips. Lips that had covered hers in such a way that she’d forgotten where she was and what she should be doing. He had a dangerous effect on her, which while not frightening itself, made her nervous about what she would do the next time they kissed. Or perhaps what she would not do—stop him.

  He rested his arm along the back of the settee and turned to her. His finger played with the curl that had escaped her bonnet. “Since we are set for two o’clock, I will arrive at your home Wednesday at one to escort you here.”

  Oh, lord. She had visions of arriving at the art show looking like a dimwit. “Very well. But no kissing.”

  His soft laugh brought gooseflesh to her arms.

  11

  Ash tried as hard as he could, but he could not stop his body from reacting to Pru. As soon as she walked through the door, he wanted to stride across the room, haul her into his arms, and kiss her until she made those cute little mewling sounds that set him on fire.

  Instead, he behaved the gentleman and avoided looking at her as much as possible once tea had arrived. He, Ted, and Pru chatted for a while, concentrating mostly on what she could expect at the art show.

  Her nervousness and excitement amused him. For a sophisticated lady who had maneuvered the ton for several years and remained whole and hardy, she had a sweet innocence about her that appealed to him more than he would have liked. Those thoughts led him to places he didn’t belong.

  Was it possible there could be a future for them? Her sister, married to the highest rank below the king, had certainly treated him as an equal a
t the garden party. She’d let it be known by her actions that he was there as her guest and was to be treated like any other guest.

  Once the tea had been finished, Ted stood. “I have an appointment I must see to.” He turned to Ash. “I assume you will see Lady Prudence to her carriage?”

  “Of course.”

  Ted gave a quick bow in Pru’s direction. “My lady, I await your presence on Wednesday. I am sure it will a very successful show.” He turned on his heel and left them.

  Pru fiddled with the spoon next to her teacup. “How is your artwork going?” She kept her eyes downcast. Very unlike Lady Prudence.

  He studied her for a minute as a flush rose from the neckline of her gown to cover her face. “About the same. With my duties with the art show, I haven’t done much more.” He leaned back and rested his ankle on his knee.

  His brain told him she was merely passing time, but his body was hoping she was leading them in a direction of which he wholly approved.

  “Um. Can I see your latest work?” She glanced at him, her face growing redder.

  He stood, trying to tell himself what he was thinking was certainly not what Pru had in mind. She probably was overheated and wanted a stroll upstairs to cool off.

  Yes. And a unicorn would soon reside in his stables and begin to speak to him in French.

  “I would be happy to have you see my progress.” He pulled her chair out, and they walked slowly up the stairs to his studio, not touching, but the tension between them crackled in the air.

  Pru was definitely nervous as she moved from painting to painting, making inane comments and twisting her fingers. He stood by her side for as long as he could stand it, then moved in front of her and placed his knuckle under her chin. “Since there will be no kissing on the way to the art show on Wednesday, may I do so now?”

  Slowly, she nodded, her expression bathed in relief.

  With a slight smile, his gaze roved and lazily appraised her. Slowly, his head descended until he touched her lips with the lightest brush of his. He teased her mouth until she leaned into him. Wrapping his arms around her body, he pulled her flush against his chest and his mouth covered hers hungrily.