Page 32 of To Dare a Duke

The duke needed to be put off, put in his place. He needed to see that Prue was far from his ideal of quiet and sensible and scandal-free. Then he would leave her alone, and she could be comfortable again.

She didn’t need him coming in and upsetting her plans, making her doubt them and unsettling her peace of mind. Prue certainly did not need him to awaken her heart to the kind of romantic dreams she had never allowed herself to consider. That was the most dangerous thing about him, and she needed it to stop before she found herself discontent with her lot and yearning for things she’d long forbidden herself to contemplate.

So, she had a plan. If you could call the nonsensical idea by such a grand name. Prue shook her head and sighed. Well, whatever it was, it was her way to get what she wanted. She would complete her dare, show the duke she was far from the well-behaved miss he wanted to marry, and perhaps get some more ideas for her story. She was reluctant to admit it, but the next chapter was eluding her.

Her hero seemed an insipid creation, far less interesting than the duke, whom everyone seemed to be desperately in love with. What strange creatures women were. Why did they love The Damned Duke so, when he was so obviously rotten to the core?

Except, the more she went back and reread what she’d written about the blasted man to date, the more she saw his motivation. He’d lashed out because a woman had hurt him. She had broken his heart, humiliated him in public, and he sought revenge for it. His actions were selfish, and certainly ill-judged, but perhaps understandable. Was he really as evil as she had intended to make him? After all, he must get his comeuppance. She had contrived a wonderfully gruesome death for him, too.

Now, however, she felt the first stirrings of anxiety that there might be a backlash from heartbroken women the length and breadth of the country if she killed him off. Worse than that, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to kill him off. There was a strong part of her that would far rather murder the dull hero, for whom she could never find as much empathy, or interest in, as she could the duke.

Oh, what a muddle.

Well, perhaps if she was outrageous enough with the real-life duke, he’d be so disgusted and disappointed in her that he’d show her how obnoxious he could be. Perhaps he’d behave as badly as he ought to and show her his true colours? Then everything could go back to normal. She’d have inspiration for the ending of her story, complete her dare for her friends’ edification, and get on with her life.

Yes.

It might not be a grand plan, but it had merit, and she would put it into action at once.

***

Prue, for perhaps the first time in her life, took pains with her appearance that night. Instead of dragging a comb through her hair and arranging it with more haste than judgement, she allowed Sally to take the time to curl it and create a style for her. She chose her best dress, a deep emerald green satin, and even applied a touch of perfume. At Sally’s insistence, she added a delicate pearl necklace and matching ear-bobs.

At the last minute, and ignoring the wide-eyed expression of her maid, she sought out the gift box, and chose a pair of long, white satin evening gloves.

“Well,” said Sally, staring at Prue with sparking eyes. “I never saw you look so well, Miss. You look right pretty, you do indeed.”

Prue smiled, turning to take a last look at the glass on her dressing table.

“Not too shabby, at least,” she returned, grinning. She felt rather pretty, it was true. Oh, she’d never climb the height of beauty that lovely Minerva could claim, but she could not help that and felt no desire to lament the fact.

Once downstairs, Prue smiled at the astonishment on the faces of both her aunt and Minerva that she was not only ready, but looking presentable. She even had gloves on.

“Why, Prue,” Minerva said, getting to her feet. “You do look nice.”

Prue stilled, a little startled by the compliment. “Thank you,” she said, smiling at her cousin. “Not as lovely as you, of course, but it’s nice of you to say so.”

Minerva beamed and looked down at her gown, which was a rich pink and very becoming. “It’s a lovely colour, isn’t it?” she said, though when she looked up there was a glint of anxiety in her eyes. “I hope it was worth it.”

Prue decided she’d not ask how much the dress cost. She could take a good guess, and that was frightening enough as she knew how slender her aunt’s purse was.

“Still hoping to catch a duke?” she asked, the words soft rather than mocking.

For a moment Minerva stared at her, an adversarial light in her eyes, but then she sighed and shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said, glancing over her shoulder to see if Phyllis was listening.

Prue watched her with curiosity, wondering for the first time how afraid Minerva was of her mother. How much of her behaviour was motivated by her own desires, and how much by her mother’s ambitions?

“You certainly look like a duchess tonight,” Prue said, wanting to reward Minerva’s honesty with her own. Though the thought of her anywhere near Bedwin made that unpleasant sensation stir in her chest again.

Minerva smiled at the compliment, more delighted by it than Prue might have credited.

“I don’t think he’s interested,” Minerva admitted. “Though please don’t tell mama I said so,” she added, blanching a little.

“Of course not.” Prue shook her head and reached out to squeeze her fingers. “I would never do that.”

Minerva looked relieved and gave Prue a searching look, as though she was debating this new entente between them. “Mr Bradbury was very nice to me, and most attentive,” she offered, brightening. “He’s very rich,” she added with a wistful tone.

“Mr Bradbury?” her aunt said in disgust, entering the conversation as Minerva jolted with alarm. Neither of them had heard her approach. “We are not about to throw away your assets on a mere Mr,” the woman exclaimed, shaking her head and giving Minerva a scathing look. “You must try harder with the duke, girl. If you were a little more forthcoming, he’d take more notice of you.”