“Men like me should never marry. I have no intention of condemning any lady to a lonely future.” Jack tapped his horse’s flank. “Come. I’ll introduce you.”
Lady Prudence spied him and spoke to her groom over her shoulder before slowing her horse to a walk. The groom discreetly dropped several paces behind.
Jack rode up to her. He should not have been so glad to see her, not when she must have come today hoping to see him. The tilt of that firm, little chin told Jack she was eager to pepper him with a good deal of difficult questions—questions he wasn’t prepared to answer yet.
Jack introduced Lady Prudence to Damian, who made his apologies and rode on. “Lady Prudence. How delightful to see you again.” He met her gaze and almost sighed at her determined expression.
“I had hoped you might call,” she confessed.
“Forgive me. I have been busy but would have advised you had I news to impart,” he said.
“Haveyou heard any talk about my father?” Her back stiffened in the saddle. “He was well regarded among theton, and in the House of Lords.”
“He was, indeed.”
Her horse sidled, reacting to the tension. “Have you still not found a glimmer as to why…?” She broke off, studying his face.
Jack read her disappointment in him in her eyes. The urge to tell her the little he did know became irresistible. He took a firm grip on himself. It would be extremely unprofessional to confide in her so early in the investigation, when it all might come to naught. While he trusted Lady Prudence’s discretion, he wasn’t about to risk her becoming involved.
“So that’s all,” she said after a pause.
“It’s early days, Lady Prudence. Leave it in the hands of the authorities.”
“Gramma and I return to Richmond on Tuesday.”
“If there’s a breakthrough, I’ll write to you there.”
“You are the only one I can turn to, Lord Hereford. I thought we might be friends.”
Friends? Better not.He had no wish to be her friend. What an exquisite pain that would cause. Conversing politely while he wanted to hold her. To kiss her. And to have her under him, moaning with pleasure.
She turned her horse’s head. “I shall await your letter,” she said brusquely.
“My lady.” Jack lifted his hat and bowed in the saddle. He watched her ride away with the groom following, her shoulders stiff.
“Poor fellow. You looked as if you had your back to the wall,” Damian said sympathetically when he’d rejoined Jack. “Or am I wrong?”
“You’re not wrong,” he said while any enjoyment in the ride ebbed away. “Sorry, Damian. Dinner and a game of cards at White’s this evening?”
“Absolutely. In your present mood, I expect to win back the money I lost to you last time.”
Jack chuckled. “Don’t be so sure.”
Chapter Ten
Prue and Grammaarrived back in Richmond late in the afternoon.
The butler took their coats and bonnets and handed them to a maid. “Were there any callers, Barnes?” Gramma asked him.
“No, milady.”
“Have a tea tray sent to the drawing room.”
They settled wearily on the sofa, welcomed by a series of outraged squawks from Hodge, leaping about on his perch, while with utter indifference, Fergus stretched his sleek body out on his cushion by the fire.
Gramma studied Prue’s face. “You have been in a brown study ever since you returned from Hyde Park.”
“I’m sorry, Gramma.” Prue felt guilt ridden. She’d tried to be good company, but her fear that Lord Hereford intended to withhold any information from her had cast her low. Unfortunately, dining at the Graves’ on the previous night had been too dull an affair to lift her spirits. She had been the only guest under forty. Even Gramma had agreed.
