“Yes, but none of them are about at the moment, are they?” he asked smoothly. “How would they know?”
“Of course not, but word travels quickly in circles such as these, as you must surely know. Servants gossip. Whispers carry.”
She was reminding herself as much as him. But then, likely Prince Ferdinando had never needed to worry about scandalbroth. He was celebrated for his reputation rather than scorned as a woman in his position would be. The unfairness of polite society was not lost upon her. She’d witnessed what it was capable of in the most brutal and exacting way. Her mother had paid the price for it. Eleanora had managed to escape relatively unscathed thus far. But she certainly hadn’t managed that by lingering with libertines in their chambers.
“No one would dare gossip about you,” the prince countered with a conviction he had no right to possess. “I’d never allow it.”
A reluctant smile tugged at her lips, but she sternly chased it away. “That is most generous of you, Your Royal Highness. However, I don’t see what control you could have over all polite society.”
“I’m a prince.” He patted the bed. “Sit here for a moment, won’t you? The way you’re hovering over me is giving me an aching head. I’m usually the tallest man in the room unless my brother is about.”
His brother, the King of Varros. Eleanora had not met Prince Ferdinando’s sibling, although word of his recent visit to London had left thetonpositively abuzz. The king had been the subject of innumerable scandal sheets. But not in the way Prince Ferdinando had.
All the more reason for Eleanora to avoid sitting on the bed in dangerous proximity to him. Wounded or no, he was positively perilous to her reputation, her determination, her livelihood.
She offered him the laudanum. “I’m afraid I don’t dare accept your offer, Your Royal Highness.”
“Then I won’t take the laudanum,” he said stubbornly.
They stared at each other, at a stalemate. The prince grimaced, stirring as he sought a more comfortable position. He was suffering. Her inner urge to come to his aid surmounted allother concerns. Eleanora gingerly seated herself on the edge of the bed. Not where he had requested, but a safer distance.
Again, she extended the laudanum to him, the measure in its small tumbler. “Now will you take it?”
“You’ve convinced me.” He accepted her offering, his fingers grazing hers as he did so. Holding her gaze, he brought the laudanum to his lips, making an expression of discontent as he swallowed the liquid down. “Bloody terrible stuff.”
“It will ease the pain,” she reassured him, taking the tumbler from him. “And allow you to rest. You need to regain your strength.”
“On that we agree, my dear. I certainly do. Without my strength, I’ll never be able to win your heart.”
Once more, the mask of roguish charmer was firmly in place. She wondered what he used it to shield, beyond the pain of his injury. And then she promptly told herself it hardly mattered.
Eleanora struggled for a light tone. “How amusing you are, Your Royal Highness. I haven’t a heart to win, but even if I had, I do not doubt you’d be the last person attempting to win it.”
“Do you mean to say you haven’t a heart at all, or that it cannot be won?” he asked, his tone curious.
“Of course I have a heart,” she conceded. “However, it is firmly out of consideration. I’m far too old for such nonsense.”
“Old?” He arched a golden brow, his blue gaze sweeping over her form in a thorough way that made her flush. “You couldn’t be more than five-and-twenty. Hardly ancient.”
“I’m eight-and-twenty,” she countered primly. “Quite on the shelf.”
“Young enough to come off the shelf, certainly,” he observed. “With the proper motivation, of course.”
She understood the subtle suggestion in his voice all too well, along with the way he looked at her. It was the look a wickedrake bestowed upon his prey. But Eleanora had no intention of allowing herself to fall beneath this handsome prince’s spell.
“I’m comfortable as I am, Your Royal Highness,” she said.
“Are you, truly?” he asked shrewdly. “You don’t seem to be the sort of woman content to blend in with the shadows. To help others shine like diamonds of the first water while hiding yourself in dowdy gowns and dreadful fichus and caps.”
His words startled her. Disturbed her. What did he see in her that no one else had? How had she given herself away?
He was disturbingly close to the truth. Once, she hadn’t been content to hide herself. But she needed to do so now, for her own survival.
“I enjoy helping others,” she told him curtly. “As you can see by my unwise presence at your sickbed.”
“You’re here because you want to be.”
His tone was knowing. And more alarming still was that he was not wrong with his assertion. Shedidwant to be here. She was enjoying his company. She liked the way he flirted with her. Liked the way he made her feel. Old feelings, dangerous feelings, feelings she couldn’t afford to indulge in. And yet, she remained perched on the edge of his bed, a bird prepared for flight, her wings tied by her own wayward inclinations.
