“Why did we meet up in secret?” Eyeball asked, scooting to the edge of his seat. When Leo made no move to answer, Eyeball waved him off. “Not important. I have time today and well, let’s be honest, every day, to meet. Whenever you’d like to start those lessons.”
Leo blinked. He did not want Eyeball to take up any of his precious time. He’d been a pain in the arse in school, and he was a pain in the arse now. He was just bigger. Reluctantly, he dug out his datebook. “Tomorrow,” he said.
Eyeball slapped his hands on the arms of the chair. “Splendid!”
“Ten a.m. sharp.” Leo looked up as the man stood.
“So early.” Eyeball winced. “Could we not do a more civilized time? Say, two in the afternoon?”
Leo glanced at his datebook. Prudence would be coming by to see his mother. He’d come up with her own code for his diary. A collection of dots along the page, that could be excused as mere pen marks. “Fine. Two. Tomorrow. But I will not tolerate lateness.”
Eyeball gave him a grin that no doubt would win his mother over. Leo gritted his teeth but stood out of politeness and respect for rank.
*
“YOU MUST BEMrs. Cabot, the American widow.” A man’s booming voice came from behind her.
Prudence jumped. She gripped the warm stone banister on the front steps of the Moon residence for balance. Her lace-gloved hand flew to her heaving chest.
“My apologies for startling you.” A man came into focus. A massive man, whose broad shoulders nearly blocked out the sun.
Prudence swallowed and composed herself. He was handsome, holding his hand outstretched. She didn’t know if he was offering it as a gentleman or as a handshake. Unsure, she shook it. She was an American businesswoman, after all. What did he expect her to do? “Nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m at the disadvantage. And you are?”
“Terribly rude and impertinent, I’m afraid,” he said, with a wide winning smile. “But I saw you going in to visit, and having just come from there, I was wondering who you were here to see.”
Prudence blinked. “That is terribly rude and impertinent.”
He laughed, which was in itself disarming. If the weather had not been warm and pleasant, causing everyone in London to bekinder and more genial, she might have turned on her heel and walked away from him. Was that not what she was supposed to do? Truthfully, she wasn’t sure anymore.
But Prudence had experience with men like this in New York, while she did business on her husband’s behalf. They were slick like wet otter pelts. He waited for her charming response, and when it did not come, he had to continue the conversation on his own.
“I’m an old school chum of Leo’s. I was wondering if you were his...amor.”
“I beg your pardon. You haven’t told me who you are and why my business is your business.” Prudence’s hackles rose. She knew what he was asking. And she didn’t like it one bit.
“Lord Grabe, at your service.” He bowed fully, a show of respect in gesture he had not given in conversation. But it allowed her to see that he had a full head of thick, dark hair, barely tamed curls, and that his hat was made of the finest (most likely American if not Canadian) beaver skin. She wondered if the luxurious hat was not too hot for him, or if it was a way to flaunt his wealth that could not be foregone just because of the weather.
“Mrs. Prudence Cabot,” she said, not bothering to curtsy or bow. She was an American, and he was rude. He would get no genuflection from her.
His smile was wide, and his cheek dimpled in response. Normally she would sigh over such a man, but he was... nothing but awful to her.
“Not that it’s your business, but I’m here to see Mrs. Moon. Widows have much to discuss.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He whisked his hat back on his head. “If you are not here for Leo, then may I make up my absolutely insolent manner toward you, and ask you to go to the opera on Tuesday evening?”
Prudence took a step back, only to find it was a step up. She didn’t even have the wherewithal to stammer.
“Do you have another engagement?” he pressed.
“No,” she said, truthfully.
“If you are involved with someone else and would rather decline, I must confess that I understand.” He took a step forward.
Was he baiting her? What did he know? Prudence swallowed. “I am not.”
“I see no other obstacle,” he said with another genial grin.
She narrowed her eyes. “I do not know you, sir.”
