Page 33 of To Dare a Duke

Minerva flushed, a rather belligerent look in her eyes. “Yes, Mama,” she said, though there was a rigid set to her jaw.

Their aunt hurried from the room to fetch her cloak and Prue hesitated. She’d never been close to Minerva, the two of them chalk and cheese, but she knew her Aunt Phyllis was a rather difficult woman to countermand.

“Is he nice, your Mr Bradbury?” she asked, studying Minerva’s face.

Minerva shrugged, all the sparkle gone from her eyes. “Nicer than the others. He speaks to me, converses with me rather than talking at me or just… just looking….” She blushed and gave another shrug. “I’d better fetch my cloak.”

Prue watched her go and wondered what would become of Minerva. She would not catch Bedwin, that was for sure. The duke had looked almost disgusted when she’d suggested it to him, though she couldn’t fathom why. Minerva was beautiful and, once out from under her mother’s influence, Prue suspected she’d be rather easier to live with. Still, it was their business, not hers. She’d be gone soon enough, out from under their roof, and she doubted either of them would want to have anything to do with her once that happened.

She had other things on her mind this evening, in any case. With a sudden rush of nerves, Prue gathered her own cloak and followed her aunt and Minerva out to the waiting carriage.

***

8pm. 20th April. At a ball given by Jasper Cadogan, the Earl of St Clair.

By the time Prue entered the ballroom, she felt sick and jittery. Despite telling herself that faint heart never chased away an aggravating duke, her stomach had tied itself in knots and she felt all on edge.

She realised two things over the following hour.

Firstly, she’d never been so nervous in all her life. She cared little for people’s opinions, and other than finding the season rather a waste of time, she was content to people watch and gather ideas and information for her work.

Secondly, she discovered that when she was nervous she talked too much.

Prue was certain she was speaking utter nonsense, but the strangest thing was that it seemed to be gaining her attention. The more she babbled and laughed, the more people were drawn to her. She was asked to dance no less than three times in a row by quite presentable, even eligible young men. They had come to flock about Minerva, of course, but Prue ended up filling her dance card just as fast as her cousin.

Minerva looked over at her, a little startled. “You’re in high spirits tonight,” she said, her astonishment obvious. “I’ve never seen you enjoy yourself so much. Usually you’re moping about with the wallflowers.”

Prue frowned. Was that what she did? Moped? She’d never thought so, and… was she enjoying herself?

At that moment a rather earnest young man with large ears and freckles held out his hand to her. “My dance, I believe Miss Chuffington-Smythe?”

She took it, recognising him as a good-natured fellow with whom she had chatted earlier in the evening.

“So it is,” she replied, smiling at him.

Yes, she decided, feeling more than a little surprised by the realisation. Yes, she was enjoying herself a good deal. She looked back at Minerva, who waved at her, grinning as the Earl of St Clair sought her hand for the next dance.

Prue beamed, pleased for her cousin and feeling almost affectionate towards her. She and the earl made a rather dashing couple. No doubt Aunt Phyllis was already making plans for the wedding breakfast, she thought with a chuckle. He wasn’t a duke, perhaps, but still… an earl wasn’t such a comedown.

It was close to ten o’clock when she made her way to the refreshments room. She had known Bedwin would not appear much before eleven. He always arrived late. It was a good couple of hours before supper, though, and all the unexpected dancing had given her a thirst. That being the case, she gave a start of surprise as the duke appeared before her, holding a glass of lemonade.

“I suspected, after your strenuous activities this evening, that you might require refreshments,” he said, offering her the glass.

Prue stared at him. She realised she was surprised, not only by the thoughtful gesture, but also that he had been here for some time, and that he’d been observing her.

“Thank you, your grace. You are most kind.”

His eyes fell to the gloves she wore, and he smiled a little. Not the spontaneous, boyish smile that had stolen her breath some evenings earlier, but a smile that touched his eyes, chasing back some of the cynicism and wickedness that seemed to linger in his expression.

“They pleased you?” he asked, his voice soft.

“They did,” she said, nodding. “Though quite inappropriate, as I’m sure you know.”

He held her gaze, unblinking. “But my intentions are honourable, as you well know.”

Despite herself, Prue felt a rush of heat under his piercing gaze. He was devilishly handsome tonight, those dark eyes full of promises, and that sinful mouth…. Desire bloomed in such a low and intimate part of her that she blushed.

With a jolt of shock, Prue tore her gaze away.