Jasper swallowed his brandy in one gulp and set the empty tumbler down on the mantel. “Lord Quincy is friendly with Lady Archer. Even if he doesn’t wish you any harm,shedoes, and he’ll do her bidding, I assure you.”
Lady Archer, the dark-haired lady in the portrait, Jasper’s former lover. Oh yes, Franny had told her all about Lady Archer’s vindictiveness. “Very well, I take your point, though I can’t quite see why Lady Archer should wish me ill. I’ve got nothing to do with her.”
“For God’s sake, Prue, of course, you do! You marriedme, didn’t you? That’s more than enough to earn you the enmity of a vindictive viper like Lady Archer.”
“Why should it? You broke with her months ago. She threw a hairbrush at you, and it went out the window and hit poor Lord Arthur!” Surely, that was more than enough to put an end to any affection between them, unless . . .
Was Lady Archer still in love with Jasper? Did she want him back, and consider Prue her rival? A bitter laugh hovered on her lips. If that was the case, then she could likely have him for the taking. That disaster this morning had shattered any remaining illusion she might have cherished that her husband wantedher.
“Good God, but that story has made the rounds, hasn’t it?” Jasper dropped into the chair beside her and dragged a hand through his hair. “She threw the hairbrush at meafter, when it finally dawned on her she was never going to become the Duchess of Montford. Now hereyouare, in her rightful place. At least, that’s how she’ll see it.”
Wait. Franny had said something about that, hadn’t she? Something about Lady Archer having her heart set on becoming the next Duchess of Montford? Now here was Prue, a girl of no name, no money, no fortune, and no fashion, usurping the place of one of London’s great beauties.
Yes, perhaps thatwouldbe enough to earn her Lady Archer’s enmity. “But it’s not as if Lord Quincy knew I’d turn up at Angelo’s this morning. Why, no one even knows we’ve returned to London—”
“Everyone knows.” Jasper’s tone was flat. “They knew before we even arrived in Berkeley Square.”
“Very well, but my point is, it isn’t as if Lord Quincy could have had any ill intent toward me this morning. He merely happened to be there when I came in, and—”
“Quincy’s an opportunist who took quick advantage of the situation today to ingratiate himself with you. He’d think nothing of befriending you if he thinks he has something to gain by it, regardless of whether it damages your reputation. You can be sure he’s already reported the whole of your encounter back to Selina. Even now she’s likely weaving her web, waiting for her prey to venture close enough that she can snap it up and make a meal of it.”
Spiders, web, and prey? It all sounded a bit melodramatic, but it wasn’t as if she had any desire to become friends with Lord Quincy, so there was no sense in arguing the point. If Jasper didn’t like the man, then she’d simply keep away from him. “Very well then, Your Grace. I promise you I won’t have anything to do with Lord Quincy in the future.”
There. That had been easy enough.
She rose to her feet, but Jasper caught her wrist and urged her back down into her chair. “I’m not finished, Your Grace. At least half the men at Angelo’s who cheered you on with such enthusiasm today also aren’t gentlemen. I can assure you the moment you set foot outside the door, they all scurried off to White’s or Boodle’s to gossip about seeing the new Duchess of Montford fencing at Angelo’s.”
Ah, so they’d be gossiping about her, would they? Carrying tales to every corner of London, whispering to all their acquaintances that the Duchess of Montford was . . . what? What could they possibly say of her? That she wished to learn to fence? What was the harm in that?
She shrugged. “I don’t care.”
Once again, she rose to leave, but he tugged her back down into the chair again. “What do you mean, you don’t care?”
“Precisely what I said, Jasper. Let them talk, if they must. They’d likely do so anyway, no matter what I do. Am I meant to abandon all my interests merely because thetondoesn’t approve of them? Why, I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous. I don’t care if they do gossip about me.”
“Icare, Prue.” He grasped her hands in his. “I won’t have every gossip in London whispering about you behind your back!”
“If you wanted a wife thetonwould approve of, then you should have chosen a different lady, one who likes to spend her days shopping, gossiping, and dressing in the latest fashions. But that’s not me, Jasper. It never was.”
“Listen to me, Prue. You’ve no idea how vicious they can be.”
“What are you saying, Jasper? What is it you want me to do?” But she already knew, didn’t she? She could already feel his words gathering in the empty space between them—
“I want your promise that you won’t go to Angelo’s again.”
She stared at him, her chest going so tight she couldn’t catch her breath, but then the anger rose inside her, swelling and pushing until the word trapped in her throat spilled over her lips. “No.”
“No?” He gaped at her, as if he thought he’d misheard her.
“No,” she repeated, raising her chin. “I won’t promise you any such thing. My answer is no.”
If she promised this, Angelo’s would only be the beginning of the concessions he’d demand of her. Next she’d find thetondidn’t approve of her shooting at Manton’s or visiting Tattersalls, or that they were gossiping about her riding hell for leather in Green Park of a morning, or snickering over her unfashionable clothing, or the thousands of other things she wished to do that duchesses weren’t meant to do.
It would never end, and soon enough the Prudence Thorne she’d always been would be swallowed up by the Duchess of Montford. She’d already promised herself she wouldn’t allow that to happen. Indeed, she couldn’t allow it, because if she did, then what would become of her?
“I do beg your pardon, Your Grace, but I’m not going to change my mind.” She snatched her hands from his grip and rose to her feet.
He made no move to touch her again, but when she reached the door, his low voice stopped her. “You’re not to go to Angelo’s again, Prue. I forbid it.”
