Page 30 of To Dare a Duke

The voice was high and squeaky with mingled terror and determination. Prue stared in astonishment.

“Alice?” she exclaimed, staring at the tiny redhead.

The fragile, elfin young woman looked like she might faint at any moment, except there was a glint of determination in her eyes that Prue had never seen before.

“I’ll do it,” Alice said again, sounding a little surer now. She stared back at Prue, unblinking.

Kitty offered her the hat, and everyone watched in awed silence as Alice plucked out a strip of paper with trembling fingers.

“Well then,” Matilda said, flapping her hands at Prue. “What did you get?”

Prue swallowed and unfolded the narrow strip of paper. She didn’t recognise the handwriting, the owner of it having gone to some lengths to disguise themselves with bold capital letters. Just as well, as Prue would have been sorely tempted to box their ears.

“Well?” Ruth said, clutching as the sides of her chair with white-knuckled hands.

“Dance in a garden at midnight,” Prue said, her tone sour.

“Oh!” Jemima said, the sound somewhere between awed and wistful. “What did you get, Alice?”

Prue turned to Alice who was staring at her slip of paper like it was a venomous snake.

“K-Kiss a man in the moonlight,” she stammered, her pale cheeks now blazing crimson.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Prue said, leaping to her feet. “This is it? These are your dares? We are all intelligent young women, and all you can think of is men? Dancing and kissing? What a farce!” she seethed.

It was one thing for her to take such risks, but Alice longed for marriage, for security, and there was no way she’d be able to induce a man to kiss her in the moonlight unless she took a dreadful and possibly dangerous risk with her reputation, even her safety.

“You see,” Kitty said, smirking a little. “I told you she’d not go through with it.”

Prue felt her temper flare, and she turned on Kitty. “Oh, I’ll do it. I’ll make good on the stupid dare, no matter how ridiculous, and it is ridiculous, but you leave Alice out of this.”

“No!”

Prue swung around, a little taken aback by the vehemence of that one word. Alice was standing, fists clenched, staring at her.

“It’s my dare, not yours, Prue,” Alice said, her voice quiet but firm. “I knew what I was doing, what I was risking. It’s my choice, not yours. I may be small, but I am a grown-up, not a child, and I’m sick of people treating me like one.”

Prue drew in a breath, realising that Alice was right. She was a woman with a brain in her head; the risks would be as obvious to her as to Prue. If she wanted to go ahead with this mad scheme, well, it was her affair.

“I’m sorry, Alice,” Prue said, nodding at her. “You are right, of course only—”

“I’ll be careful.” Alice smiled. “Don’t worry.”

Prue nodded again, sick with guilt. This was her fault. If she hadn’t gotten into that stupid argument with Kitty, if she hadn’t said such awful things with no thought for the consequences…. Now one of her best friends would put herself and her reputation at risk, and for what? For a stupid dare? To kiss a man in the moonlight?

She looked around and could tell some of them thought it a romantic idea. Prue swallowed down her anger and regret, though the guilt had lodged in her chest and would not shift.

“How long do we have to complete these dares?” she asked, unable to keep the scathing quality from her voice.

Kitty shrugged and looked around at the others. “A week or two?” she suggested.

The women looked from one to the other, each of them nodding in turn.

“Very well,” Prue said, standing and picking up her reticule. She needed to get out of here and away from her friends before she said something she regretted. Everyone else was milling about now, the women talking in excited, low voices as many of them huddled about Alice. “Good afternoon, ladies,” she said, receiving some half-hearted replies as most of them returned their attention to Alice, offering advice or asking questions of her.

Prue restrained herself from rolling her eyes and headed for the door.

“Prue.”