“Roland only returned from Paris last week. He’s a young man and the earldom would have come to him in time, as my father never remarried, so why would he take such a chance?”
“Perhaps he’s in need of money.”
“He isn’t wealthy, but his father left him a London house and, I believe, a comfortable legacy.”
“Do you know if he’s a gambler?”
“No, he always abhorred it.” She frowned, remembering his nasty insinuation that her father had had gambling debts. Prue fought impatience. “Everything seems to move so slowly. Surely, there is more that can be done.”
Gramma’s expression silently urged her to be calm; Prue swallowed her frustration with another sip of wine. “Am I still in danger from this man?”
“No. We have him under strict surveillance and will continue to do so until we find those behind it.”
“But he hadn’t been watched around the clock, had he?” Prue’s voice shook. “You say there’s some doubt about where he was during the night.”
“It was a careless mistake by one of my men. I’ve brought in more and it won’t happen again.” He paused as a footman brought in a selection of cheeses, bowls of nuts, and sweetmeats. “I can assure you of that, Lady Prudence.”
Prue looked at his calm, gray eyes and wide, firm mouth. He seemed so confident. She wanted to believe him, and must, for her peace of mind.
“Will you join us for coffee, Lord Hereford?”
“Thank you, Lady Aldridge, but no. I must return to London. But thank you for the splendid dinner. I apologize for my unforgivable appearance and smelling of horse.”
She waved his comment away. “There’s entirely no need, sir,” Gramma said. “It was very reassuring to hear the perpetrator is, if notunder lock and key, at least closely watched.”
He took her hand. “I hope to have more to tell you soon.”
Prue walked with him down to where Barnes stood at the front door. “Thank you for coming. I feel better knowing you are doing your best to find the culprit.”
His eyes warmed. “Rest assured, I intend to never let you down, Lady Prudence.” Was he as attracted to her as she was to him? Despite telling herself it was useless to think of him this way, she couldn’t prevent the strange yearning low in her stomach when he was near. “Tomorrow, we go to the family’s solicitor in London for the reading of my father’s will.”
“As the heir presumptive, I expect Mr. Stanton will attend.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Airing her dislike of Roland had no place here, not when Lord Hereford was anxious to leave for London.
“If you should need my help at any time, day or night, send another message to my Mayfair home. I’ll come as quickly as I can.”
“You are very generous,” she said, aware she mustn’t keep him. “I’m sure you have far more important things to do than rush to my aid.”
“I consider it of absolute importance,” he said equivocally as a smile teased the corners of his mouth. He sobered. “Please don’t hesitate to send for me. Even if you’re unsure it is relevant.”
“That is very reassuring, thank you.”
He stood at the door, his gaze on her face. “Don’t take any risks, Lady Prudence. Leave the investigation to those equipped to deal with it.”
“Don’t worry. I shan’t,” Prue said ruefully. “I’m afraid I’ve had my wings clipped.”
He reached up and lightly brushed a stray lock back from her cheek. “I wish I could believe that.” With a brief smile, he turned and left her.
Mounted on his horse, he turned the animal’s head and rode away. Prue couldn’t help but sigh as she stepped back to allow Barnes to shut the door.
“An upstanding gentleman, Lady Prudence, if I may be so bold.”
“Yes. He is.” Prue smiled and turned to mount the stairs. She was eager to discuss the evening with Gramma, who had said very little, merely listening to her and Lord Hereford’s conversation.
When Prue entered the warm drawing room where a fire still blazed in the hearth, Gramma glanced up from her needlework. “How fortunate that Lord Hereford has agreed to assist you.”
An indignant squawk of protest erupted from beneath the cover of Horace’s cage.
