Malia Martin (9 page)

Pru shot a dark look at her butler. “Oh, really, Clifton, don’t be rude. It was my idea entirely. Now,” she said quickly to keep Clifton from running off on the unhappy tangent of Leslie Redding.

“I will act upon this, this … thing between the captain and me.” Pru smiled brightly and twirled about. “I will put myself up as a distraction! I do think it is a brilliant plan.”

“It is beyond stupid.”

“Oh, come, Clifton, distraction from the main activity always works.”

Clifton’s cheeks were the color of ripe apples. “This is preposterous! I will not sacrifice your virtue for a distraction!”

“Poppycock,” Cook said quietly.

Pru and Clifton turned as one to stare at Delilah.

The old, grizzled woman looked up from the dough she had been pounding. “Lady Pru’s a widow, last time I checked. And in my book widowhood means a woman’s hard-won freedom.” Delilah punctuated this statement with a vigorous nod of her head.

“That is blasphemy,” yelled Clifton.

“Blasphemy, Mr. Eurel Clifton Rhodes, is how young bucks can go about hopping into bed with anything that pleases their eye and women have to wait for some old doddering fool to marry them. There’s not a woman in this town that would begrudge Lady Pru’s indulgence with a man like that beautiful captain, and there’s not a man in this town that won’t be happy for her distractin’ him.”

Bang!
She thudded her fist into the floury dough on the counter and continued her work without looking up again.

Clifton stood with his mouth gaping.

“Of course, Lady Pru, there’s also not a person in this town that’ll admit to what they truly feel. So you keep it discreet, and you can go on and do anything you wish.”

“Well, then, that’s settled.” Pru smiled. “And here comes Leslie now, such perfect timing.”

Clifton turned to look through the glass panes of the back kitchen door. “’Tis a god-awful mess, is what it is,” he grumbled, and hurried for the hallway before he had to greet Leslie Redding. “Don’t you go doing anything foolish until we’ve talked this over!” And he slammed the door behind him.

“I guess Eurel saw me coming?” Leslie said as she let herself in the back door.

Pru just rolled her eyes. “A more stubborn creature does not inhabit the earth.”

“Actually, I can think of someone.” She laughed and took over Clifton’s stool. “How is the captain this morning? Any signs of life?”

“I’d say,” Delilah said with a chuckle.

Pru felt her face heat.

“What happened?” Leslie asked.

“I am going to distract the captain from his hunt for the Wolf,” Pru said quickly before Delilah could answer.

“Really?” Leslie looked from Pru to the cook and then back to Pru. “Would this distraction have anything to do with the thing we talked about the other day?”

Prudence bit her lip.

“Ah, well, that will distract him sure enough.” She tapped her finger lightly on the table a moment. “It could be dangerous, though, Pru.”

She laughed. “Dangerous I can handle.”

“No, Pru, I’m not just talking about physically dangerous, though there is that. I am worried for your heart.”

“Well, then, I shall keep my heart out of the experience,” Pru said decisively.

Delilah and Leslie gave each other the, “Oh, we know so much more than she does,” look. Pru sighed. “I really am not a child, though you two sometimes act as if I am. I can take care of myself. In fact, I can take care of this entire town. Have I not proven this?”

“Of course, Prudence, it’s just that …” Leslie stopped and touched the back of Pru’s hand with her weathered fingers. “I know how it feels, that excitement and thrill of a man you find attractive, especially the first. But it is hard for a woman to keep her emotions out of the experience, and it can cause much pain.”

Pru nodded and turned her palm up to clasp Leslie’s hand.

“And this is a dangerous man, as much as you wish to make light of that fact.”

“I do not make light of it, Leslie. If I didn’t think it would be best for all, I would not propose this plan.”

Tuck stuck his head through the back door. “Thought you’d want to know that the captain is standing out front, bag in hand, waiting for me to bring his horse ’round.”

Prudence frowned. “Well, this will never do. I need him to stay for at least one more night.”

“He can’t feel much better. You should insist on taking him to the doctor up in Brighton,” Leslie suggested.

“That’ll take you today and tomorrow at least,” Delilah pointed out. “The boys can move the stuff from Harker’s while you’re gone.”

“And I can start in on my new plan,” Pru said, jumping up from her chair.

“What plan is that?” Tuck asked.

“None of your business,” all three women said at once.

Tuck shrugged amiably. “So you want me to hitch up the carriage then, Lady Farnsworth. Might take a while; haven’t used it in a year. It’ll need a good airing out.”

“Thank you, Tuck,” Pru said. “I’m going to go change into my traveling clothes. Leslie, can you find Mabel and ask her to pack me a small bag?”

“You ought to take someone with you, Lady Pru,” Delilah cautioned as she placed a cloth over her dough while she left it to rise. “It’s not right you two going off alone like that.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

“Pru, you do need to keep up appearances, dear,” Leslie said. “We understand, and most everyone else will as well, but they won’t if you flaunt it in their faces.”

Prudence tsked and rolled her eyes. “Well, then Leslie, why don’t you accompany us?”

She smiled. “I would love to, dear, especially because I am rather sure that there is no way you are going to get out of this town without Clifton going along, and you will definitely need me to keep him out of your way if that is the case.”

With a shake of her head, Prudence laughed. “All right then, off we go. Hopefully I shall be able to outwit Clifton and crumble the captain’s defenses while the boys move our wool out of Harker’s cellar. This shall be an interesting night in Brighton, I daresay.”

The woman had turned into a general again, and now he sat in a very badly sprung carriage sharing a torn leather seat with Lady Farnsworth and staring into the one good eye of the biggest butler in England.

Leslie Redding sneezed, and, if possible, Clifton’s scowl deepened.

“I’m terribly sorry,” the older woman said, her words muffled. “I can’t stop sneezing.”

She had said the same thing after every single sneeze in the last hour. And there had been many.

Lady Farnsworth leaned over and placed a gloved hand on her friend’s knee. “I’m sorry, Leslie. This old carriage is so musty. Do you think you ought to ride outside?”

Mrs. Redding’s face brightened considerably. “That is a lovely idea, Lady Pru. It is warm enough, I’m sure.”

Lady Farnsworth knocked on the roof with the handle of her parasol, and the carriage slowed, bouncing horribly. James barely contained the need to hold his head still with both hands. He felt, truly, like he had awakened to a nightmare.

There were surely small men inside his brain with pickaxes intent upon rendering him absolutely senseless. And, obviously, they had done their job well, for here he sat in a carriage getting farther and farther from Gravesly and, more importantly, the Wolf, with every jolting movement.

When Lady Farnsworth had come charging out the front door of Chesley House insisting he go to Brighton with her, it had felt like an attack of French proportions. And since his senses were addled, he had found himself in a coach bound for Brighton within ten minutes of the attack. Adding to that humiliation, James could have sworn he had politely refused Lady Farnsworth at least a dozen times.

He really needed to be less polite with Lady Farnsworth, or he would never get his job done.

The carriage came to a halt, finally, and James opened the door and jumped to the ground without waiting for Tuck to pull down the stairs. He helped both the women alight, then stepped out of the way and just took in great gulps of fresh air.

They would be away from Gravesly for two whole days at least, add to that the two days he had been incapacitated, the day he had spent handing baskets out to the poor, and he had nearly a week on his new assignment with not a thing to show for it. Or rather, he had himself been brought low to show for it.

Loud voices brought James’s attention back to the people assembled at the side of the warm, dusty road.

“Clifton, just do as Leslie wishes, and be done with it, man,” Lady Farnsworth was saying with a shake of her head.

The butler looked as if he were about to tear the woman’s head right off her pretty little neck. He had never seen a servant level a more insolent stare at his employer. “Right, then, fine,” the man shouted, and a couple of grouse took flight from the field in front of them. “But I don’t like this one bit.”

“Clifton Rhodes, is there anything that you do like?” Leslie Redding said as she went to the front of the carriage. Clifton followed her, grumbling, of course, then stood like a big dumb ox as the older woman obviously waited for assistance to mount the stairs to the top of the carriage.

James kept a sigh behind his teeth as he stepped forward, but he stopped abruptly at the glare from Clifton. The butler then took Mrs. Redding’s arm in a rather painful-looking grip and nearly threw the woman up to her seat. The man followed her up as he muttered, of course, under his breath.

With a frown, James glanced around and realized that Lady Farnsworth had already taken her seat back in the carriage and Tuck stood waiting for him to enter as well.

He stood staring at the dark opening of the carriage as if someone had just asked him to walk the plank. Good God, he was now going to be alone with Lady Farnsworth in that small carriage for a good hour at least. Perhaps two if Mrs. Redding could stay atop the carriage that long.

James had a small hope that Tuck would follow him up the stairs, but of course the boy merrily folded them back up and closed the door. A bounce at the back told James the footman had jumped on the tiger’s stand behind the carriage.

Keeping his gaze from Lady Farnsworth, James sat across from her and tried to find a place for his legs. The carriage started off with a jerk that made James groan out loud.

“Does your head pain you terribly, Captain?” she asked.

“It is fine, really, Lady Farnsworth. I really do not see why we have to go all the way into Brighton for the doctor.”

“I insist, Captain. It was horribly worrying when you slept so long. What if something is terribly wrong? What if you suffer a relapse?”

James had heard it all at Chesley House, of course, and berated himself now for even starting up the argument once more. The woman had her mind set on taking him to the doctor. So he would go, and return as quickly as possible.

He hadn’t expected to have to endure a cramped, jolting carriage ride with Mrs. Redding, Lady Farnsworth, and—worst of all—Clifton. But now that he was alone in the carriage with Lady Farnsworth, he even wished Clifton back.

“Would you like me to rub your temples for you, Captain?”

That sounded incredibly wonderful, actually, but he would not allow any more close contact with Lady Farnsworth. His body was obviously not going to help him stay away from her, so he must put his mind to it. “Thank you, no, my lady.” He folded his arms, slouched down against the squabs, and, leaning his head back, closed his eyes.

He had thought that closing his eyes would effectively cut out the picture of Lady Farnsworth looking more than lovely in a chocolate brown traveling dress. He had already noticed how the dress fit rather snugly across her bosom and tapered just enough to show her slimness. And, of course, the color brought out her eyes and contrasted perfectly with the golden color of her hair.

Yes, closing his eyes should have helped tremendously, only the picture did not fade in the least and, on top of that rather unfortunate happening was the fact that now his olfactory senses were more alert, and the scent of lavender seemed to swirl around him like a cloud.

He suddenly began conjuring thoughts of opening all the small dark buttons that closed Lady Farnsworth’s traveling dress up to her neck. And, most definitely, he would let her hair down.

James opened his eyes with a snap.

The lady across from him smiled. James frowned. This was all very bad.

“Perhaps we should converse?” Lady Farnsworth said softly. “It might help pass the time.”

Nothing was going to help, of that James was very sure.

“I hear you have a lovely home in London. Do you enjoy the city?”

“Not really.”

Lady Farnsworth nodded. “Well that would seem a good reason to buy a home in town, then.”

“How on earth did you hear about my house?”

“I like to keep abreast of the news,” Lady Farnsworth said.

“My home is news?”

“It is in
Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers
.”

James nearly groaned out loud. “Tell me you don’t get that horrible piece of filth all the way in Gravesly.”