“Perhaps you’ll excuse my indelicacy, Miss Ben Nevis, but I can admit that while I was conversing with Mrs. Cabot at the opera, I got to know precisely how tall she was compared to my own size. She is a tall woman, something which I admire. My own height can make finding a companion of a reasonable size challenging.” He gazed down at her, his different colored eyes making her almost dizzy.
He spun her in a circle. “Now why do I say all this? Because I have something very important to tell Mrs. Cabot, and I think you might be able to relay it to her, Miss Ben Nevis.”
Prudence wished she could be in love with him, even if it were for only one night. To want to be taken into his arms full of passion. But she didn’t feel that way. He was like a very lovely painting that she knew wasn’t real.
“I’m not one made for love. But I know how to spot it. I’m very good at spotting it, since I’ve had my share of bed partners, and one thing I watch for is when she falls in love with me. That’s when I realize I must end it gently. And this skill of noticing, of predicting, has allowed me to observe a great many things.”
He paused their motion as the music died down, knowing it would once again swell. Her skirts swirled around his trousers, the shining fabric enveloping him.
“I know Mrs. Cabot is in love. Not with me, which admittedly, I did find somewhat insulting, even if I do not seek that admiration. But Mr. Leopold Moon is very much in love with Mrs. Cabot. So much so that he cannot see it himself.”
Prudence shook her head. How wrong he was. If she could only explain what had happened at the cottage—that he thought to abandon her to the whims of a stranger instead of telling her anything about himself or the situation at hand.
“I do not know what happened, but I have seen the man in the last week, and he is broken. Not in the churlish way he had been, of course, prickly and surly as he normally is. No, he is bereft. And that, if I can add more to my own selfish story, is also something I know. Because that was my father, after my mother left him. I’ve seen heartbreak up close. And Leopold Moon is in the throes of it.”
Prudence felt a swell of tears, but tamped it down. The idea that Leo missed her was too much for her to think of. As for love, she wanted that to be true.
“I’ve goaded him to arrive tonight. Perhaps too much, but I believe he’ll show. We were childhood mates, and I admit I’ve enjoyed teasing him through the years. I know his temperament,and he believes he hates me, but he doesn’t. He envies me sometimes, I think, but truthfully, I envy him. He’s very smart. His mother would do anything for him—when we were children, she was a force of nature. She’d move all of London five miles north if it would help Leo.”
Prudence laughed. She wished she could have known Mrs. Moon at that time. She must have been quite a sight to behold.
“He had a family, even if it was a family of one. He had his intelligence, his relentlessness. My God, that man wouldn’t even need sleep!” Grabe shook his head, impressed with even the memory of Leo.
“What I am saying, Miss Ben Nevis, is please let Mrs. Cabot give him a chance to redeem himself. He is lost without her. He needs her, whether he’ll admit it or not.”
Prudence allowed herself a small nod. If he came. If he approached her. If, if, if. What a friend Lord Grabe was to advocate for him.
“Now that’s over,” Grabe said with a sigh and then a winning smile. “Let’s talk about me.”
*
LEO WORE ALLblack, because well, that’s what he had. His black mask was barely a disguise, but he slicked back his hair with a pomade that made it seem a shade darker. He put on a crisp white cravat, and replaced the normal gold chain of his pocket watch with a white silk ribbon from his mother. His waistcoat was black, and he wore a formal cutaway dress coat.
“You look the very devil himself,” his mother breathed as he came down the stairs. “Bravo, my child.”
Leo raised his brows at his mother. “I wasn’t aware you wanted your son to be the Prince of Darkness.”
“If you’re the prince, that makes me the queen,” she remarked, taking his proffered arm. The footman handed them their overcoats and hats, and they clambered into the carriage to make a late entrance to what his mother had told him was the talk of the town.
They were late enough that the line of carriages was abating, though they were lined up and down the street, clogging the thoroughfare. The slow approach had Leo tapping his feet impatiently. His mother watched him without comment, but he could almost hear her thinking.
“Do you have something to say?” he demanded. Even his pulse beat faster in his temple. He hadn’t realized what an impatient man he was.
His mother shook his head, giving him an imperious look. “Not at all.”
Leo grunted. Finally, the carriage pulled up to the front of the house, and they were able to join the party already in progress. They handed off their overcoats and were ushered into the ballroom, announced in such a din that absolutely no one heard their arrival. There was a crush of people, and Leo escorted his mother to the chairs lining the room, finding some of her compatriots already ensconced in the gossip of the evening.
“You look quite dashing, Mr. Moon,” said one of his mother’s friends. Perhaps it was Mrs. Maybury? He couldn’t remember. But the look she gave him was one of pure appreciation.
He nodded his appreciation and turned to look at the festivities. The crowd was full and the air already growing humid from the breath of so many in one space. Dancing occupied the far end of the ballroom. The music was lively, and the small orchestra was good. He would expect nothing less from a party thrown by Prudence.
“Shall I get you something to drink?” Leo asked his mother, having to raise his voice over the crowd.
She shook her head no, waving him off, clearly too busy for the likes of him. The music ended and people shuffled again, dancers coming off the floor, new partners being installed. Laughter and chatter now filled the air.
And that’s when he saw the women ascend to the four ends of the room. They had to be the members of the Ladies’ Alpine Society. Each was dressed in blue—the color of the banners he’d helped Prudence pick out on Bond Street all those months back. It had been a delightful day: he’d pretended his coldness, and she’d flirted back with her charming smile. His mother had been there, but ultimately stayed in the carriage, her knee bothering her as she had moved in and out of the vehicle too many times.
Those colors were imprinted in his mind. Each woman wore a towering, old-fashioned wig on her head, and a dark, stiff mask over her face. Given the different cuts of the gown and the heights of the daises, it was impossible to tell which woman was whom at a distance.
