by Sara Ramsey
“I don’t know whether to toast you with champagne or hit you over the head with the bottle,” Ellie said. “Thorington?”
“Shhh,” Prudence hissed, handing her half-drunk ratafia to a passing footman and pulling Ellie into the nearest empty alcove. “We cannot discuss this here.”
“I would have thought you’d have told me before now. I had to hear it from Madeleine when I came to help her tonight. Is that why you asked for a room? Why didn’t you come today?”
Prudence made an apologetic gesture, opening her hands as though an excuse might come out of them. “I still wasn’t sure what to do next. But I’ll join you tomorrow if your invitation still stands.”
“Of course it does. What does Salford say about Thorington?”
It was the only question that mattered. Ellie knew that Prudence wouldn’t give a fig what Ferguson or Malcolm thought of her matrimonial concerns. But Prudence didn’t want to talk about it. “He cannot offer what Thorington can,” she said shortly.
“Did you ask him to?” Ellie asked.
Prudence snorted. “Ask an earl to marry me? Are you mad enough to suggest that?”
Her friend nodded. “Perhaps Salford merely needs a nudge in the right direction.”
“If Thorington isn’t enough of a nudge, I would have to accept an entire battalion before marrying me crossed Alex’s mind.”
She couldn’t tell Ellie the real reason why Alex wouldn’t marry her. It wasn’t her secret to tell, and besides, it was still so fantastic-sounding that Prudence wasn’t sure she could say the words aloud. Unfortunately, that meant that Ellie still believed that Alex could be reasoned with. “He may turn around once your engagement is announced,” Ellie mused. “Nothing like realizing he cannot have you to make him think of you that way.”
Prudence smiled despite herself. “You are not a good influence.”
Ellie patted her on the arm. “Only to those who wish me to be.”
Prudence covered Ellie’s hand with her own. “You may influence me any day. But do not concern yourself about Salford. I vow I am not bothered by it.”
“That’s a lie,” Ellie said mildly. “But I shall forgive you.”
“How kind of you,” Prudence murmured.
“Isn’t it?” Ellie pulled away. “I would press, but if Amelia heard of your engagement, I’m sure she’s already talked enough about your marital bliss to last you a week.”
Prudence laughed. “You know her too well.”
“I know you, too. And I know you aren’t happy about this, even if you’re putting on a brave face.”
Her laughter fled. She couldn’t look at Ellie’s eyes anymore — her friend was too perceptive by half. “I can’t wait anymore, Ellie.”
Ellie’s silence was pensive, not judgmental. And when she spoke, there was a wistful note of memory in her voice. “I made that same vow a dozen times while I waited for Nick. And I broke it a dozen more. But I’m glad you’re stronger than I was. I wouldn’t wish those years on anyone.”
“Truly? Even though you have Nick now?”
“Truly. He was worth the wait, and I wouldn’t trade him. Not for anything. But that’s hindsight. If he had never come home for me, I would have ruined my life waiting for him.”
Prudence sighed. “That’s not very romantic.”
Ellie grinned, even though she tried to suppress it. “You still crave romance, don’t you? This is your chance to find it. Although I must say, I don’t think Thorington is the one who will give it to you.”
Prudence knew that already. It was all she had thought about that afternoon — that she was leaping out of the pan and directly into the fire if she left Alex for Thorington. “I know,” she said. “I don’t plan to marry him. I think I would be better off taking my chances in some foreign clime.”
Ellie frowned. “Thorington won’t accept being jilted.”
“He won’t be jilted because he doesn’t know I accepted,” Prudence said. “I said it last night in a fit of pique to keep the men from forcing me to marry Alex. They didn’t know that I had just earned fifty thousand pounds, after all. But my real plan is to go to the Continent.”
Ellie still frowned. “That’s a better plan by far. But it won’t work. Ferguson will force the issue.”
“I’ll take care of Ferguson,” Prudence said. “Have you seen him tonight? I need to tell him before he says anything to anyone.”
“He won’t spread tales — he knows better than that. But you had better put your plan into action at once. If the ton catches wind of your false engagement, you’ll be ruined forever if you don’t marry him.”
A cold touch of foreboding skittered down her spine. “Will you help me find your brother?” Prudence asked. “I would feel better if I find him immediately.”
Ellie nodded. But they had left it too late. Thorington intercepted them just as they left the alcove.
“Miss Etchingham,” Thorington said, sweeping a grand bow that would have made a lesser lady swoon. “And Lady Folkestone. I knew there must be two great beauties hiding here, what with the glow emanating from the shadows.”
Prudence frowned. Ellie, ever graceful even in the worst situations, laughed. “Still a flirt, your grace?” the marchioness teased. “I thought old age would have cured you.”
“I’m too far gone for a cure, my lady. But if you will allow me to steal your companion, I shall see if her good behavior may rub off on me.”
His voice was warmer than usual. Oddly, it worried her more than his typical sangfroid did. But Prudence took the hand he offered and bid goodbye to Ellie. Ellie left immediately — possibly to seek out Ferguson, although Prudence couldn’t tell what her intentions were.
She would have to deny Thorington quietly but firmly. Then she would find Ferguson and Malcolm and tell them she had changed her mind about Thorington’s proposal.
But as soon as he had pulled her into a waltz, Thorington destroyed all her plans with a single remark. “Rothwell congratulated me on my good fortune. Do you wish to congratulate me as well?”
Damn Ferguson and his meddling. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for battle. “It was poorly done of me not to discuss this with you first. I am sorry for it, your grace.”
He held her gaze. “Then you mean to accept my proposal?”
She took another breath that had nothing to do with the exertion of the dance. “I am very flattered by your proposal,” she said. “But I cannot marry you.”
Thorington didn’t miss a single step of the waltz. His gaze didn’t falter, either. If anything, he seemed amused. “You should have taken someone other than the Duke of Rothwell into your confidence, my dear. He won’t allow me to jilt you, even if I wish to — which I don’t. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
He was unmoved. Prudence’s heart stuttered. “I shall find him straight away and tell him I was mistaken. No one ever need know.”
Thorington shrugged. Even his nonchalance in the face of her panic was somehow elegant. “I’m sure you may find him before he tells anyone else. But I’m also sure I shan’t let you.”
His hand around her waist suddenly felt like an iron band. “Why?” she asked. “You can marry whomever you wish.”
“True,” he said, with the kind of self-assurance that she’d never felt — the kind of self-assurance that made her hate him just a bit. “But I have set my sights on you, Miss Etchingham. And if I must ruin you tonight to ensure your compliance, I shall.”
His mouth twisted mockingly. She suddenly saw he meant it. He had a reputation as the worst sort of blackguard — a reputation that she realized, then, was most likely deserved. “Don’t,” she whispered.
The duke shrugged again. “It’s your choice, Miss Etchingham. Agree to marry me, and everything will be entirely pleasant between us. Or try to break it off, and I’ll win you anyway. I truly do not care either way.”
“You’re mad,” she said.
“I’m a duke,” he said simply.
&n
bsp; “Mad,” she said again. “Have you no shame? How dare you force a gentlewoman into marriage?”
Her voice rose a bit on that, but no one looked in their direction. Still, he frowned at her. “You must have intended to accept my proposal when you mentioned it to Rothwell. What changed?”
He had already convinced her that he wouldn’t let her go. It seemed that only the most drastic action would save her. “Lord Salford told me of your curse,” she said boldly.
“Did he?” Thorington mused. His hand on her shoulder tightened. “I begin to understand your reluctance.”
He didn’t deny the curse. Her heart had stuttered before, but now it stopped completely. She had thought she’d believed Alex’s excuse for not marrying her, but now that it had been confirmed — and confirmed by a man like Thorington — she realized that she had still doubted him.
That doubt was gone, but there was no comfort to replace it. Thorington grinned before she could think through the implications. “I suspected he loved you, but he must have told you of his curse to explain why he couldn’t have you. Too bad he wished for something so silly as knowledge. If he’d wished for something else, he might have been able to win you.”
“No one may win me,” she snapped, her patience running thin. “I’m not a prize. And I don’t wish to marry you.”
“I hope you shall change your mind.”
“I shall not.”
He waited for her to take back the words. When she did not, he shrugged. “You’ll realize that you should marry me instead of him. His curse will kill you. Mine will keep you in books and dresses all your life. You should see my library, Miss Etchingham — if you don’t wish to love me, I’m sure you’ll find more than enough there to win your favor.”
His appeal to her bluestocking nature surprised her. “Wouldn’t you rather I do something more ladylike with my time?”
“I require intelligent conversation. Nothing wrong with a duchess who can read Latin. You can read Latin, can’t you?”
She laughed in spite of herself. “You know I can. But still, surely there are more important qualifications than that to base a marriage on.”
Thorington smiled down at her. “You deserve me, Miss Etchingham. You think you want love. But I can give you what you really want.”
“What do you think I want?” she asked, sure she didn’t want his answer but too curious to let it go.
“Security. You want security, Miss Etchingham, not love. You want someone who won’t break your heart. And access to a good library would be an added benefit. I can give you all of that.”
It was exactly what she had claimed to want with Alex — why she had decided that she couldn’t wait for him. But hearing those words from Thorington’s mouth caused her doubts to overwhelm her prudence.
“I’m not ready to settle for it yet,” she said. “I cannot marry you.”
He paused. Then, he seemed to make a decision. His smile faded. “Very well. But I think you will soon find a reason to change your mind.”
It wasn’t an offer to let her go, but it seemed to be a temporary truce. “Thank you, your grace.”
“You can thank me in a minute, my dear.”
Then he tightened his grip around her waist and planted his lips on hers.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Those first moments after Thorington’s kiss — if one could call unwanted attention and a bruising press of lips a kiss — were the most awkward moments of Prudence’s life. Or so she had thought at the time. The shocked gasps, the speculative looks, Thorington’s announcement of their engagement just as Alex and Ellie pushed through the crowd to her side…it was all horrid, and unbelievable, and much too fast to understand.
She had thought the awkwardness would subside. She was wrong.
The carriage ride home was far worse.
She sat next to Lady Salford, who hadn’t spoken to Prudence since Thorington’s announcement beyond saying that she had a headache and wished to leave. Alex sat across from them, staring out the window — which might have been normal, had the window not been shuttered against the night breeze.
They hadn’t run away, precisely — Lady Salford had waited nearly an hour to summon the carriage — but they hadn’t stayed to celebrate as long as might have been expected after the announcement that Prudence would marry the duke. And the congratulations Prudence received were just speculative enough that she knew she would be the only on dit that anyone would discuss in London’s drawing rooms the next day.
It would be the scandal of the Season if she jilted Thorington now. Perhaps the scandal of the decade. It was already a scandal that he had kissed her — but if the ton thought it was a love match, they would forgive a duke his minor indiscretions. They wouldn’t forgive an untitled, impoverished spinster for hers. She could either marry Thorington and live the gossip down — or jilt him, and never be received again.
She would have cursed the unfairness of it all, but her reputation was the least of her concerns. It was her heart that drew her attention — her heart, and the heart of the man who seemed unable to look at her.
But she couldn’t explain herself in front of Lady Salford. Alex’s mother had no doubt expected better behavior when she had taken Prudence as a companion — or perhaps she had expected that Prudence would marry her son. Both of those expectations had been utterly destroyed tonight.
Just as they reached Salford House, Lady Salford turned to her. “Do you think you shall be happy with the duke?” she asked, in a quiet voice that held more concern than condemnation.
“I shall have to be, my lady. At least you’ll be free of my care.”
The jest fell flat. “I hope you didn’t agree to marry him for my sake,” Lady Salford said. “His title and estates are a brilliant match, of course. But the man himself…”
She trailed off, too well-bred to continue down the path of questioning the reputation of a duke who would soon be Prudence’s husband. Prudence couldn’t defend Thorington — no one could, not if they knew that he had forced himself upon her. But she didn’t want Lady Salford to worry. “I’m sure he won’t harm me. And at least I shall not be a spinster forever.”
She couldn’t muster up the enthusiasm necessary to sound happy about her changed circumstances. But Lady Salford didn’t question her. She just patted Prudence’s hand, then waited for Alex to leave the carriage so he could help her down.
He still hadn’t looked at her. They had only made eye contact once in the last hour — just as she had pulled away from Thorington. Alex had pushed through the crowd, and his was the first face she had seen when the red haze cleared out of her eyes. She might have done Thorington violence and let her reputation be damned…but it was the look on Alex’s face that stopped her.
He was angry — as angry as she’d ever seen him, with his jaw clenched and his fists tight within their gloves. Those lips, the ones that had kissed her with love rather than Thorington’s brand of control, were harsh now, as though they knew they could never touch her again.
But it was his eyes that had stopped her. They were angry, yes — but also resolute. He held her gaze long enough for her to know that she was his concern, not Thorington.
If he had punched Thorington, as his fists seemed wont to do, he would have ruined her. Instead, he had congratulated her. Even though the look in his eyes said she had killed him.
He had done the noble thing. His words, loud enough for others to hear and pass on, made it seem like he had agreed to her engagement in advance. His tone had been amused, perfectly so, as though Thorington was a man too in love to know better, and not a blackguard of the first order.
He wasn’t amused now. Prudence stepped out of the carriage. His hand was reassuring despite it all — solid and ready to catch her.
He was solid, but transitory. As soon as her slippers touched the paving stones, he was gone, escorting his mother into the house and leaving her to trail behind like the companion she was rather than the duchess she would be.
Like the wife she would be, for a man who wasn’t Alex.
A night earlier, she had been prepared to leave him. Or she had thought she was. But now she regretted it all.
She had lost him. And there wasn’t enough security in the world to replace him.
But that memory of a useful dagger still teased her, making her wonder if some of her endless stacks of correspondence held an answer. He wanted to rescue her, but could she rescue him? If she found the cure, could she win him for herself?
She might not be able to. But she had to try. And if she failed…
Perhaps she could still engrave him in her memory. It was a dangerous, likely immoral thought. But she could still take some pleasure from him, make a memory to warm all the cold nights of the future that stretched before her. Maybe it was better to have him once instead of never.
Or maybe she was a fool.
* * *
A better man would have left her alone.
A better man would have respected Thorington’s claim, respected the lady’s need for security, and respected the closed door between them.
Alex no longer wanted to be a better man.
He should let her go. She had found the security he could never give her. If she didn’t accept Thorington, she would continue to live in poverty, dependent on others.
And she would grow to hate Alex for that. He knew she would. And yet his heart was too selfish to care. He needed her, more than he would ever need another. It was a dangerous thought. If he needed her more than his studies, his need would kill her.
But there had to be a way to keep her, to love her, without killing her. He just had to convince her to try for him.
He waited for her maid to leave her bedchamber for the night, waited another twenty minutes until the whole house was still, and then slipped through his door and down the hall to hers. He expected to find her in stillness, some pensive contemplation to match the dark thrum of his heart. But when he pushed the door open, he walked into a blaze of light.
