Leo did his best to keep his brow smooth. Yes, he would be very interested to see her tomorrow as well. To see if he could smell Eyeball on her. If she had that relaxed, satisfied look about her that she did after their lovemaking. He could feel acid from his stomach traveling up his windpipe.
“Of course, Mrs. Moon. I won’t forget.” Prudence gave a fond glance to his mother and gently unhooked the cane, letting her take it back.
They excused themselves and as they toddled back to their own opera box, his mother leaned in. “She isn’t a stupid woman, Leo. Have some faith in her.”
“It’s Grabe, Mother. The man has seduced more women than hoop skirts.”
“Be that as it may, Mrs. Cabot isn’t as wild as she pretends to be. I’d wager she hasn’t taken many men other than her husband to bed. She’ll be skittish to bare herself again.”
“Mother!” He hissed. Honestly, the woman couldn’t keep her own counsel sometimes. But at least she didn’t know about his nights absconding from their house to meet Prudence at her hotel.
His mother pinched the inside of his elbow. Fortunately, he couldn’t feel it through his coat, despite her intentions. “I agree that Grabe is no boon to her or her devilish cause. But now is not the time to rescue her. Whatever damage she does to her reputation and that of her climbing girls is done, but she will be forgiven for the fact that she is an American.”
“So you’ll set her straight on appropriate men tomorrow afternoon?”
“Heavens, no.” They arrived at their own box, and he helped his mother into her seat. “I’ll merely tell her that if she takes up with Lord Grabe, she’ll be expecting the pox soon after.”
Chapter Six
PRUDENCE WOKE UPalone. The bed was luxurious, but she hated to say it, she longed for the simple life again. The kind she had as a child, or even with Gregory, when they let go of most of their serving staff. To be pampered and waited upon was fun for a while, but truthfully, she just wanted to be alone. Truly alone.
No lady’s maid, no paid companion, no footmen, no maids, not even Leo. To sit in the morning as the sun rose, listening to the birds welcoming the day. Even as a child, she’d had that. Her family was not made for early mornings, but Prudence was, as was her father. While both she and her father were early to bed, early to rise sorts, he was off to his office near the rail station, and Prudence was free to sit, unencumbered. She still had this habit, regardless of months of late-night suppers, dances, and operas.
Here, with the luxurious bed, she should be able to sleep in. To not lay and listen for the maid to enter and light a fire. But there were all sorts of things she thought she wanted, but when faced with the actual choice, she didn’t. Like Lord Grabe.
He’d been kind enough and too charming by half. He’d told her amusing stories about people in the high society whose names she knew. He whispered in her ear during the performance so that the flesh on the back of her neck prickled. He’d let her see how his eyes trailed down to her bosom. His intentions were obvious, which was helpful, as that had been her intention as well. But when it came to the end of the night,she was too tired. Her stomach hadn’t fluttered as it had when anticipating Leo’s touch. He invited her to his place, which she declined, and then he tried to invite himself into hers. Which she declined as she stifled a yawn. That seemed to have made her refusal understood.
He was attractive yes, with broad shoulders and enchanting multi-hued eyes. But he was rather boring. And obvious. And it seemed like the idea of bedding him was farcical at best. As if she might laugh as he took off his cravat. Or worse. Laugh when he slipped out of his trousers. Oh dear, that would be unforgiveable.
She was not meant for this kind of wild life. Or the attentions of handsome, titled men. She needed someone simpler than a man whose skill in bedsport came so highly touted. No less than a half a dozen ladies had recommended him after she’d visited a London Gardening Society for Widows meeting that Mrs. Moon had recommended.
It was less gardening and more gossip than Prudence had anticipated.
But he wasn’t Leo. He wasn’t teasing then taciturn, aloof and then intimate. Lord Grabe was nevertherewith her. It was as if he were playing a role with her, as the seducer. And she didn’t feel like playing a role. She liked being herself. And she liked herself when she was with Leo. Where she asked and received what she wanted. Where they could debate and scheme and laugh and tease.
Even if Leo still had that hidden room inside himself where he kept his secrets. He thought he was so clever about it, as if those secrets weren’t a glaring sign to her every time he spoke. But it didn’t matter. They had fun together.
She was truly surprised when Leo had arrived in Lord Grabe’s box with his mother. But she assumed they were there because Mrs. Moon wanted to be friendly. Perhaps even throw her respected and ferocious reputation out there to protectPrudence from any gossip. But Leo’s placid expression belied a steely undercurrent of outrage. But that was precisely why she was there with a peacock of a man like Lord Grabe. She wastryingto live her dream. Her outrageous free widowhood. One where she could sample men like sherries. And didn’t he remember that was their deal? Except she didn’t think she was the sort. Not with the failed flirtations in Spain, and not with the very handsome, charming Lord Grabe.
Besides, regardless of what she did in her bed, being seen with Lord Grabe would throw all suspicion off of any dalliance with Leo. It kept them safe and discreet, as both of them preferred.
The door clicked open, and soft footsteps padded to the fire. Prudence listened as the hotel chambermaid set the fire, relieved that it was finally time to start her day. She had, after all, a party to plan. A party to end all parties. Which she wouldn’t know if it hit her in the face. Why ask an American to throw a party that rivaled extravaganzas of bygone eras? But that was fine—the other women were caught up with logistics and letters, finding money in other pots. The least she could do was throw a party.
Indeed, she’d mentioned their plans to Lord Grabe, detailing the lengths they had to go to, including the faux mountain and the cloth banners symbolizing deep ice. He had generously offered her the use of his library to help her gain ideas. If he wasn’t too sore at her for not going to bed with him, she’d take him up on it.
*
LEO’S HAND SHOOKwith rage. He rarely raged at his mother, but this was an exception. “You told her what?”
His mother noticed his rage, he knew that. But she dismissed it. “I told her that she might expect the pox, but why shouldn’tshe let a handsome man flatter her? The girl deserves some admiration, after all she has been through.” Mrs. Moon waved her hand as if dismissing him.
He wanted to slap it away, but he checked himself. He would never, ever raise a hand to his mother. Or any other woman. He’d watched as his father had done so, and there would never be a chance he would follow in those footsteps. His molars ground even as he willed his jaw to unclench.
“And what, pray tell, has she been through that Lord Grabe could assuage?”
His mother looked at him with absolute pity. “Leo, darling. If you don’t know, I certainly won’t be the one to explain it to you. You’re far too old to hear it from me.”
Leo took a steadying breath and cracked his neck from side to side. He hadn’t spoken to Prudence for days. When she’d come to call on his mother, he’d made a point to be out. The loathing he felt for her at the moment wasn’t gentlemanly, and he hated himself for falling into a schoolboy crush. “I fail to see how bedsport would cure anything for Mrs. Cabot.”
