“I d-doubt it,” Prue muttered, shaking her head. “I’ve never done anything to upset them in my life.”
“Oh, what’s a little upset amongst friends?” Edith scoffed as they moved towards the Green Room. “Mr. Vale is calling upon you, not them, and if he puts you at ease, who are they to question it?”
Prue looked at the Scottish beauty with real fondness. “You don’t question it?”
Edith gave her a candid look. “I am in no position to question anyone on anything. I’ll keep you safe in this interview, but it is up to you to keep yourself safe in the matters where a chaperone has no control.”
Prue swallowed at that and shifted her gaze to the room ahead of them. She would not pretend to not understand Edith’s meaning, but neither would she dwell on it.
Camden was her friend. More than that was pure fancy, and she had never been fanciful.
Not before this, at any rate.
Edith dropped her arm as they entered the room, and Camden turned at their entrance, smiling politely and bowing to them. He looked somehow more himself in the more natural clothing of a gentleman, and more handsome for it.
Not that he hadn’t been handsome in eveningwear, because he had, and no man had ever looked better in them, but this was Camden.
And his smile warmed her to her toes.
“Who is in agony down the hall?” he asked without any sort of preamble.
Prue smiled at his frankness. “Charlotte. She’s opposed to your presence.”
“Pity,” Camden replied, though he showed no inclination to change the situation.
Edith bit down on her full bottom lip as her eyes danced with merriment.
“Lady Edith Leveson, may I present Mr. Camden Vale?” Prue said, gesturing to him. “Camden, this is my friend Edith.”
Camden bowed again as Edith curtseyed. “Charmed, my lady.” His brow furrowed in thought. “Leveson? As in Sir Archibald?”
Edith’s smile turned very flat indeed. “That would be the one, yes.”
“Husband?” Camden asked, tilting his head and taking in her mourning colors.
“He was, yes,” Edith replied in an emotionless tone.
“My condolences.”
“On my choice in a husband?” Edith asked innocently. “Thank you very much, you are too kind.”
Camden coughed in surprise but smiled. “I had heard it was a short marriage. Five minutes, was it?”
Edith shrugged, returning the smile. “Thereabouts. But we don’t need to dampen this interlude with subjects no longer applicable. I am here to ensure you don’t ravish her senseless, so I’ll just sit in that corner and keep a weather eye open.” She inclined her head and swept to the chair in the corner indicated, sitting gracefully.
Camden stared at her, then looked back at Prue. “I like her.”
“So do I,” Prue admitted, blushing slightly at Edith’s intentions. She gestured to the chairs. “Please, sit.”
They both did so, and Camden rested his hat in his lap, smiling at her. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right after last night. I wasn’t sure what had happened, but…”
“It isn’t i-important,” Prue hastily told him, cursing herself for the stammer.
He gave her a look at hearing it, knowing better. “Are you well?”
She nodded quickly. “Very. Thank you.”
Camden stared at her, then sighed heavily. “This is tedious,” he mumbled. “I don’t know how to make polite conversation, Prue. I came to ask if we could be friends again.”
Prue tilted her head at him curiously. “I wasn’t aware the connection had been severed.”
He grinned at that. “I tend to sever things whenever I leave them. Old habits.”
She smiled a little. “We are still friends, Cam. I promise.”
“Good,” he replied, still smiling.
“WHAT IN THE WORLD IS SHE THINKING?” a feminine voice bellowed, making Prue wince.
Camden looked mildly surprised. “Who’s that?”
“Georgie,” Prue and Edith said together.
“OVER MY DEAD BODY!” a male voice exploded.
“And that?” Camden asked, now seeming to enjoy himself.
“Tony,” Prue and Edith told him, again in unison.
Camden sobered a little. “Do you need to go?”
Prue looked at Edith, who smiled and shrugged. “No,” Prue responded as she looked back at Camden. “It’ll keep. Would you care for some tea?”
Chapter Twelve
A little defiance can be good for a body, so long as it is within reason.
-The Spinster Chronicles, 9 August 1817
“They all object to me?”
“No, just most of them. Edith doesn’t object.”
“But does Edith approve?”
“She says it’s not up to her to approve, she’s not going to tell me what to do.”
“Well, hurrah for the wisdom of Lady Edith Leveson, witty widow and all-around noncommittal bystander.”
Prue rolled her eyes and laid a card down. “Just be grateful that Izzy wasn’t prejudiced enough to withhold your invitation to this card party. She’s not fond of you either, but she doesn’t think poorly of many people, and is so desperate to please that when I asked, she agreed.”
Camden grunted and looked through his cards. “So, your wishes overrule her good sense, is that it?”
“Miss Lambert has the unfortunate tendency to do whatever anyone asks of her, whether in her own interests or not,” Lady Hetty informed him from his other side, her focus on her own cards. “Prudence was wise to influence her.”
Camden looked at the aged woman, who had insisted on partnering with Prue for whist. “Wise? For persuading her to invite someone like me?”
Lady Hetty didn’t even spare him a look as she discarded. “No one here said anything against your nature, Mr. Vale, which means you should not discuss it, either.”
“Personally, I think it’s overdone,” Miss Perry said across from him. “I’ve met you a number of times, Mr. Vale, and you’ve always been a perfect gentleman with me.”
He allowed himself to smile at the girl. “That’s because you are always finding me at a rather good moment, Miss Perry. My true nature is not so gentlemanly.”
She shrugged and laid down a card, her dimple flashing with her smile. “Far be it from me to contradict one who knows you so well as yourself, but a wicked nature would not care so much about the approval of a group of spinsters.”
Lady Hetty cackled at that, and Camden gave her a withering look.
“That is quite enough out of you, madam,” Camden told her, liking the old lady despite her impudence with him. Or perhaps because of it.
She smirked in response to that and looked across the table to Prue. “Your set, Prudence.”
Prue nodded and swept the cards up. “They’re only concerned for me, Mr. Vale,” she told him in a much softer voice. “Don’t take offense where none is intended.”
“I’m not used to offense not being intended,” he whispered back. “Most people offend me on purpose, and with quite a lot of flair. And you forget, I heard their protests the other day. They would absolutely offend me if given the chance.”
He glanced across the room at the Sterling couple, blatantly staring at him. They apparently saw him as the greatest evil on the earth. Captain Sterling was tall, dark, and intimidating, while his wife was fair, fine, and composed, and what he’d heard of them had convinced him that he’d rather enjoy knowing them.
Provided they did not kill him, as they seemed somewhat inclined to do at this moment.
His entrance to this card party at the Lambert residence had been awkward at best. Mr. and Mrs. Lambert had no qualms about it, but they did not seem to be paying much attention to any of their guests, let alone him. Miss Lambert, however, had been more fidgety than Prue and could not manage to meet his eyes. She was hovering not far from them, while a young girl with dark hair and hazel eyes glared furiously at him f
rom beside her.
Was this what Prue felt all the time? It was the single most unnerving experience he’d ever encountered, and he wasn’t particularly put off by anything.
Yet, as he looked around, he could see several gentlemen whose eyes were repeatedly drawn to Prue, and the glint in their eyes was not something he found any satisfaction in.
It was the same look a predatory bird had when fixed upon its prey.
And Prue could not possibly be unaware of it, not with the way her cheeks flushed.
“Miss Perry,” Lady Hetty said suddenly, rapping her stick on the ground, “would you take me over to the refreshments? I have need of some lemonade, provided Faith Lambert has made it palatable.”
Miss Perry snickered and did as she was bid, leaving the pair of them alone at the table.
“Please tell me they’re coming back,” Camden muttered as he watched them go. “Otherwise, we’ll get two young bucks over here, and you’ll clam up.”
Her blush increased. “They’ll come back,” she whispered in an almost harsh tone. “And Lady Hetty would take the h-head off of anyone who took her seat.”
Camden nodded and sat back against his chair. “That was an excellent edition of the Spinster Chronicles this morning,” he told her, folding his arms. “Which one did you write?”
Prue shook her head, a small smile playing at her lips rather fetchingly. “Not telling. Guess.”
“Fashion Forum,” he said at once, looking for any reaction from her.
Her lips twitched again. “No.”
“Dabbler.”
She dipped her chin once. “Correct.”
He grinned at her admission. “You called Mr. Dartmouth a fine addition to any Societal event, and his wife made him what he was.”
Prue’s nose wrinkled up as she restrained a grin. “I did. I met them the other day and found them to be perfectly pleasant. Not put off by my stammer at all.”
“That’s because they are friends of mine, and I told them about you.”
Her eyes shot up to his and her smile faded. “You did?”
He nodded once, thrilled that Dart and Julia had met her and made a good impression. Dinner with the Turners had been a marvelous evening, despite his reservations, and he found that Prue’s assessment of the couple was remarkably accurate. Julia Dartmouth was the better half of their relationship and had enough energy and vigor to keep Dart on his toes for the rest of their lives. She was beautiful, far too good for him, and had taken Camden down three notches before the main course had been completed.
It was a perfect match.
Dart had been quick with his apologies for the past, and Camden found himself eager to accept them. Whatever financial difficulties Dart had endured a year ago all seemed to be resolved, in part thanks to Julia’s fortune, but also due to some wiser investitures, some of which he had a desire to discuss with Camden in the future.
Camden wasn’t ready for that, but when he was, Dart would be the one he approached.
“I didn’t know they w-were friends of yours,” Prue breathed, her eyes still wide. “I would never have… I’d n-never…”
“I loved what you said,” Camden interrupted, wishing he could reach out for her hand. “And so would they, if they knew who had written it. They have a genuine understanding of their relationship, and a remarkable sense of humor between them.”
Prue still looked red and agitated, and he half expected her to begin shaking at any moment.
“Prue,” he murmured. “Breathe.”
She did so rather roughly, making him smile.
“So, what exactly are the objections of the Spinsters about me, eh?” he asked, training his eye on Mr. Carpenter in the corner, who seemed to be trying to analyze Prue from his position.
Prue’s gaze lowered to her cards, and she was suddenly very intent on her poor shuffling, her cheeks flaming.
“Prue…” Camden nudged her chair with his foot. “Come on. It’s my reputation, right?”
She nodded, her eyes still on her cards.
“And you don’t know what to believe.”
Again, she nodded.
Camden sighed, sensing rather than seeing the struggle within her to be loyal to him while maintaining loyalty to her friends. It wasn’t fair for them all to do this to her, especially when she was the one who needed their efforts and support.
“I promise to answer any point of contention with honesty and plainness,” he informed her, surprising himself with the energy behind his words. “And I’ve never said that to anyone.”
Prue’s shuffling stopped, and he saw her breathe for a long moment, her chest rising and falling steadily. Then she raised her chin and met his eyes, her almost violet eyes surprisingly steady. “They said you were in a duel a few years ago over a mistress you shared with another man.”
It was all Camden could do to avoid visibly wincing, and he bristled at the implications, but he had promised to answer everything. He shook his head twice. “Not true. There was a duel, I admit, but she was not my mistress.”
Prue tilted her head at that but said nothing.
Camden exhaled and uncrossed his arms, sliding his palms along his thighs. “She was a childhood sweetheart who had been taken advantage of. Her family could not avenge her, so I did. Not to the death, but I did win the duel, for what it’s worth.”
He watched Prue’s eyes as she processed that and saw her bottom lip tug a little as though she bit the inside.
“What else?” he prodded gently.
“Did you lose your inheritance gambling?” she asked him, her tone as steady as her eyes, and they were unnerving enough.
“No. But I did lose a fair amount. Too reckless.” He shook his head with a snort. “That was idiotic. But I have never been so reckless again, and now I am fairly respectable financially.”
Prue tapped the deck of cards on the table in a halfhearted shuffle. “Did you sell your family estate to salvage your debts?”
Now Camden did wince and had the desire to tug at his cravat. “Yes, but to be fair, it wasn’t worth much and was in poor condition. You’d have hated it.”
The quip made her smile a little, and his heart leapt against his ribs. She wasn’t upset with his answers yet, and it made him hope.
She straightened a little. “They said you had a warrant out for your arrest.”
That was part of his reputation? He didn’t bother hiding his surprise and whistled softly. “Goodness, we are going far back. No, I was not wanted for arrest. The warrant was for questioning on a situation that my stupid cousin was involved in. They had to issue a warrant because I was out of the area and needed to be summoned back. Caused a bit of noise, but I was free to go the moment questions were completed, and I never saw a jail cell.”
Prue laid the cards down on the table and drummed her perfect nails on them. “If your reputation is so filled with half-truths,” she wondered aloud, “why haven’t you corrected any of the aspersions?”
Camden shrugged a shoulder, feeling somewhat vulnerable, and yet not at all exposed before her. “What good would it do? People will say what they will say, and I’ve never particularly cared enough. Those who needed to know the truth knew it, and there is enough truth to the rumors to cause doubt in those that don’t know.” He smiled a little. “I told you it was confusing.”
Now Prue smiled outright, drumming her fingers again. “You did. I was fairly warned.”
“It doesn’t help that I fight,” Camden admitted with an exhale. “I’ll fight anyone for the slightest provocation, and that tends to get caught in the rumor mill as well. And I cheat at cards on occasion, which seems to bother some people. But you can believe me, Prue, I have never jilted a woman, been in a compromising situation, or had unpleasant run-ins with magistrates or Bow Street.”
“Have you had pleasant ones, then?” she asked with a teasing tilt to her lips.
He let his mouth slide into a crooked grin. “Let’s just say Bow Street doesn’t like to
lose at cards, and magistrates have trouble landing good punches, in my experience, but they do always pay up.”
Prue shook her head, rolling her eyes a little. “It’s a wonder you’re a gentleman, Cam.”
“I’ve always thought so, but no one has officially removed my status.” He shrugged with nonchalance, taking the cards from under Prue’s hand, his fingers grazing hers in a way that made them both still for the space of a few heartbeats.
He cleared his throat quickly. “So. Any more questions?”
She swallowed, her cheeks coloring, and shook her head. “I don’t think so. Elinor probably has more points, but she hates all men these days, so that doesn’t say much.”
Camden eyed the furious girl for a moment. “She’ll give herself apoplexy if she’s not careful.”
“I know.” Prue stiffened as two gentlemen approached, their eyes on her.
“Miss Westfall,” they began in eerie unison.
Camden growled at them. “The lady is occupied at present with a card game, which shall recommence when our partners return from refreshments. She has no time for puppies like you. Off with the pair of you.”
They looked affronted and were clearly on the point of protesting when Camden started to rise from the table. That sent them skittering off, and they perused more appropriate targets, such as the younger Wilton girls, who clearly appreciated the attention.
Prue looked at Camden in awe as he sat back down in his chair. “Was that r-reaction from your glower or your reputation?”
He sniffed uneasily and shuffled the cards. “Probably both.”
“That was most convenient.”
Camden drummed the cards on the table once, then looked at Prue speculatively as an idea began to form in his head. “I’m having a thought…”
“So, that’s that, and we shouldn’t have any more issues on that score.”
There was a long silence that stretched on and on, and Prue finally looked up into the faces of her friends.
They all wore the same expression of disbelief mixed with horror.
The Spinster and I (The Spinster Chronicles, Book 2) Page 15
