Certainlynotof naked dukes. One naked duke, that is, but from multiple angles, because there were two portraits, one in each locket, and the second one was even more scandalous than the first.
She rose at last when the clock struck seven, scrubbed the sleep from her eyes with the water in the basin, and dressed, the ruby earrings stuffed into the pocket of her skirt.
She was more than ready to be rid of the cursed things. They were beautiful, of course, but it wasn’t at all peaceful, having such costly jewels in one’s possession, even without the naked duke.
She would have made a dreadful pickpocket.
The trouble was, what was she meant todowith them? Who was she meant to give them to? Regrettably, the answer was obvious. Who else, but the Duke of Montford? It would be the last thing she ever did, of course, as she was sure to expire of embarrassment on the spot.
Indeed, she wasn’t certain she could ever look him in the eye again as it was.
No, surely it made more sense to give them to Franny? She could pass them on to Basingstoke, who could then return them to the Duke of Montford. Yes, that would be best. Who was better equipped to deal with a naked duke than another duke, after all?
She didn’t like to drag poor Franny into this business, but what else could she do?
Dash it, she’d have been much better off if she’d just left the wretched things where she’d found them! Surely, Montford would miss them soon enough, and come back for them? Perhaps she could just toss them back under the chaise, and forget she’d ever seen them?
But alas, no. What if Montford didn’t realize he’d lost them in Basingstoke’s study? Why, it could be days before he thought to look under the chaise. One of the servants was sure to find them before then, and there was no telling what sort of chaos that might lead to.
No, she had no choice but to hand them over to Franny, and the sooner she was rid of them, the better.
She hurried from her bedchamber and descended to the breakfast parlor, where she did her best to look innocent while she waited for Franny to appear, the purloined earrings burning a guilty hole in her pocket.
“My goodness, Prue, you’re up early this morning.” Franny stopped short in the doorway a short time later, one eyebrow quirked. “Did you not sleep well?”
Certainly, she had. As well as any lady haunted by a smirking, dark-haired demon. “As well as I ever do when I’m not at home. But you look fatigued yourself, dearest.” She frowned at the violet smudges beneath her friend’s eyes. “Oh, dear, was Freddy fussing again last night?”
“I’m afraid so. You can’t imagine how much havoc one small infant can wreak, Prue! He has a touch of colic, and we were up half the night trying to soothe him to sleep.”
“Dear me, that does sound trying. I’m sorry for it, though you might consider turning him over to his nursemaid on occasion.” Prue hid a smile behind her teacup, knowing what Franny would say before she even opened her mouth. Freddy was a very important personage in the eyes of his adoring parents.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t do that! The poor little mite wails so piteously unless either Giles or I hold him, and neither of us can bear to listen to him cry.”
“No, of course not.” She patted Franny’s hand. “Perhaps a nap this afternoon, then. You’re not much use to Freddy if you’re exhausted yourself, you know.”
“I know. A cup of tea, if you would, Groves.” Franny nodded her thanks as the footman leapt forward to fill her teacup and was quiet until she’d finished it. “There. I feel ever so much better now.” She turned a sharpened gaze on Prue. “My dearest Prudence, you have quite an odd look about you this morning. Has something happened?”
Prue choked on the sip of tea she’d just swallowed. For pity’s sake, how did Franny alwaysknowwhen something was afoot? One could never hide a blessed thing from her. It was both impressive and trying in equal measure. “Whatever do you mean? What can have happened between last night and this morning?”
Plenty, as it turned out. She shoved a hand into her pocket and fisted the earrings, the hard edges of the rubies digging into her palm.
“You’re a dreadful liar, Prue.” Franny’s teacup landed in the saucer with a stern click. “Is something amiss with one of the servants? Or . . . oh, no. It’s not your father, is it? Is he—”
“No, no, he’s very well. It’s nothing like that. It’s, er, well . . .” Dear God, how to say it? A lady couldn’t just blurt out that she had a naked duke secreted away in her pocket, could she? “The Duke of Montford appeared in His Grace’s study while I was writing my letter to my father last night.”
There. That was a good start.
“Did he? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. He wanders as he pleases, you know.” A sly smile twitched at the corners of Franny’s lips. “I daresay he was surprised to seeyou.”
“He was, I can assure you.” Not as surprised as she’d been to see him this morning, however.
“And what did Montford have to say for himself?”
“Oh, the usual absurd things. He demanded to know why Basingstoke hadn’t warned him I was coming to London.”Warnedhim, as if she were some sort of plague or pestilence. “Really, he’s the most infuriating man I’ve ever come across. I don’t know how you tolerate him, Franny.”
“I daresay this will shock you, but I’m rather fond of Montford.”
“Fond of him!” Prue stared at her, aghast. “How can you be, Franny? He’s dreadful!”
