Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
D ear Edmund,
Remember not all battles can be won, nor should they be. Even the Duke of Bradenton could face an insurmountable foe. We do not always understand the forces against us, or the motives and reasoning of our opponents. I, too, face a significant obstacle. I am confident, yet still I wonder if I will win.
And sometimes I wonder if I want to.
Please forgive my ponderings. It has been a tumultuous few days. I appreciate the work you have done, and plan to continue my work soon. Soon, I will target Lord Cattlyn, who votes against us, even though he seems apathetic to both sides. Perhaps I will find something to sway him.
Yours,
Lord P
P.S. I appreciate your invitation to address you as Edmund. I do wonder, however, if there was an ulterior motive in asking for another name. You are welcome to address me as P.
Pure fear.
It was not an emotion to which he was accustomed, or could even remember, yet when Priscilla hiked up her skirt and jumped from the carriage, images of a horse trampling her forged pure terror. When she made it to the ground on both feet, relief as he’d never known it flooded him.
Relief that died when she ran through the street, narrowly missing that trampling horse before disappearing into the crowd.
He didn’t wait an instant.
He took just enough time to secure the carriage, quickly promising a young man a handsome reward to make certain no one touched it. Lady Louisa looked shocked, but seemed to understand he was going after her niece.
Then he jumped down and ran.
A million emotions reignited fear. Fury and frustration, pure helplessness and sharp doubt. Why had she run? What had she seen? That it involved danger was obvious – by her panicked tone, the matter was life-threatening.
He threaded through the thick crowd. The streets were jammed with people enjoying the brilliant day, moving this way and that, roaming the walkways, haggling with vendors and bustling into shops. Fortunately his height gave him an advantage, and he spotted her over the crowd. His heart thundered as she confronted an ugly, burly giant of a man. The man was glaring at her with treacherous intent, leaning forward as if poised to strike.
If the brute touched Priscilla, Edmund may just forget he was a duke.
He barreled forward, focused and intent as the seconds ticked by in agonizing slowness. Finally he reached her. She was clutching a little blond-haired boy, and the big man was standing above them, fists clenched.
“I don’t care what you say, lady. The boy tried to steal from me. It’s not my problem he doesn’t have parents!”
Priscilla pushed the sobbing boy behind her back. He clutched the piece of bread as if his life depended upon it. “He was desperate and hungry. I shall be happy to provide the cost of the loaf.”
“I don’t want your money, lady! I’m tired of these little thieves having fun at my expense.” He cracked his knuckles. “I want retribution.”
Fiery heat thundered through Edmund. Yet he showed none of it as he stepped forward and spoke in a low, cold voice. “If you touch what’s mine, I will exact retribution.”
The shopkeeper was large. He was burly. He was muscular.
Edmund was more .
The ruffian looked around, froze. Took in Edmund’s large form, the fine clothing…
And paled. “My Lord, I–”
“Your Grace,” Edmund corrected.
The man turned even paler.
“That woman is the daughter of a duke,” Edmund bit out. “Do you have any idea of the power her father wields? The power I wield?”
The man looked like he was about to swoon. “That won’t be necessary! I apologize, my lady. If I had known who you were, I would have acted differently.”
“It shouldn’t matter who I was!” Priscilla hissed. “You attacked a little boy because he was desperate enough to snatch a tiny piece of bread. You, sir, are a monster.”
The man turned crimson, and Edmund’s anger grew. Didn’t Priscilla realize the danger she courted? Before the man could respond, he stepped in. “Apologize to the boy.”
The man stiffened. “The boy is a common thief.”
A muffled sob came from the child. He buried his head in Priscilla’s dress.
“You are the criminal,” Edmund growled. “Do you think the authorities will care about bread when I report you for attempted murder?”
The man’s face shriveled. “Please, Your Grace!”
Edmund took a deep breath, fought for control. Torn between civility and primitive instinct, it took every ounce of strength to stop himself from lunging.
He turned to Priscilla. “Are you well?”
She nodded.
“And the boy?”
“I think so.”
The shopkeeper had no idea how lucky he was. “I will grant you the mercy you denied the boy. You will never touch another child again. You will not yell, strike or harm them in any way. Do you understand?”
Sweat pouring down his face, the man bobbed his head eagerly. “Of course, Your Grace.”
Edmund leaned in. “I have friends all over London. If I ever hear of you abusing another soul again, I will have you arrested.”
“I understand. Thank you, Your Grace.”
Without another word, Edmund pivoted, grasping Priscilla in the same motion. He did not ask, because he simply couldn’t contain the overwhelming urge to hold her.
Priscilla’s eyes widened at his touch. She parted her lips, likely to protest, yet stopped at his expression. Something passed between them, something strong, powerful and completely inexplicable.
“We’re leaving,” he declared.
“I will not leave the boy.”
Her voice was strong with only the slightest quiver, the pinkness in her cheeks the sole betrayal of an otherwise perfect facade. His admiration for her swelled. She had just confronted a violent monster, risked her life to save a boy she didn’t know, yet instead of breaking into hysterics, she stood as tall as her petite form allowed, her head notched up and her hair windswept in the brisk breeze.
She was magnificent.
He looked at the tiny form attached to her dress, the little boy even now trying to burrow closer. He knelt down and said softly, “Does anyone care for you?”
His lips quivering, the child shook his head.
“Where do you live?”
The boy blinked, his eyes shining with tears. Slowly, he pointed to a filthy alley, where several adults slept on the ground, surrounded by what likely composed their earthly possessions.
Edmund breathed deeply, taking a moment to compose himself. He stood. “No child that tiny, young and vulnerable should be alone in the world. We won’t leave him.”
Priscilla looked at him suspiciously. “We won’t?”
“Of course not. Clearly he needs a caretaker. We will discuss details in the carriage.”
With that, he leaned down to the boy. The boy flailed his arms in a mighty fight, but a few whispered words calmed him enough to allow Edmund to lift him. With one hand holding the boy, and the other securing the lady, he strode back to the carriage.
Anger borne of fear still simmered, so he didn’t say a word, and neither did she. Of course, it didn’t stop the people from staring at them as they drew past. No doubt this escapade would reach the entire ton by evening, exaggerated and embellished until it belonged in a fiction novel. By the end they would be claiming he bested a lion.
Yet while it would leave tongues wagging, it took place in the open, and wasn’t the sort of scandal that would require anything but time. It certainly wasn’t enough to require a betrothal, although his grasp on her arm would lead to speculation. But with no further signs of an impending match, the speculation would die down.
He reached the carriage and paid the boy double what he promised. He helped Priscilla up, then ascended himself, still holding the child. Lady Louisa wore an expression of pure relief, and even gave Priscilla an embrace as she entered the carriage. She looked at the boy curiously, but didn’t say anything before looking once more out of the carriage. Settling the child securely in the middle seat, he urged the horses into motion.
He waited until they were away from the crowds and in the wide-open lane before turning to her. He had his speech all prepared. He would stay calm and in control, unemotionally explaining that what she did was dangerous and that she must never do it again.
Instead, he growled, “What were you thinking?”
She stiffened. “Pardon me?”
“I asked what you were thinking.” He moved the horses forward, a little quicker for his agitation. “How could you jump out of a moving carriage? Do you have any idea what could have happened?”
“I know what would’ve happened if I hadn’t gotten to the boy before–” She halted, glanced at the still quivering child. She lowered her voice. “I didn’t have time for you to amble over there. Besides, I waited for the carriage to stop.”
“You didn’t even tell me you were going to jump. It’s a miracle you didn’t break a limb!”
“What would you have me do?” she demanded. “I didn’t have a choice!”
Edmund drew a deep breath. The little boy was so tiny, so emaciated and helpless. Renewed fury flashed through him. Yes, something had to be done, and immediately, but it should have been him .
“I’m not saying we shouldn’t have helped the boy. Of course we needed to intervene. If you had explained, I would have taken care of it.”
She glared at him, her eyes flashing. “I was perfectly capable of rescuing the child. If I see someone in danger, I’m going to help, no matter the risk.”
“You will not put yourself in danger again,” he ordered, his voice rising with every word. “Next time, you will tell me, and I will handle it. I’ll lock you in your room to keep you safe if I have to.”
She gasped. “How dare you! You aren’t my guardian! You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do. Besides, you won’t be there next time.”
“We’ll see about that,” he thundered.
She sat back, folded her arms. “I imagine you’ll never want to see me again after this.”
Never see her again? The very thought sent fire through his blood.
He breathed deeply. How had he allowed himself to lose control? She was safe and healthy and whole. That, and the rescue of the boy, were all that mattered. He took a moment, and when he spoke his voice was quieter, controlled. “Of course we will meet again. I know I’m being harsh, but you have to understand. When you jumped into the street, I felt–” He stopped, shook his head. “Let’s just say I am not a man accustomed to fear.”
For a moment she stared at him, then she softened, her anger visibly fading into compassion. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry I worried you, Your Grace.”
“In the future, you will allow me to face all danger.”
She looked down. “I cannot promise that.”
He touched her face, lifting her chin so she gazed at him. “And I cannot stand back while you place yourself in peril. I will do whatever is necessary to keep you safe.”
It was a promise he intended to keep.
With the fury of earlier vanquished, they did not talk more. Priscilla turned her attention to the boy, who had finally calmed down and was staring at them with eyes far too large in his gaunt face. He probably hadn’t had a decent meal in his entire life. That would change now.
Edmund expertly led the carriage through the busy streets, his thoughts swirling as the boy described how he stole scraps of food to survive. His story was heartbreaking, especially for how common it was. Society needed more safeguards to protect these poor children.
As he expected, Priscilla was soft, kind and gentle, soothing the child. Even Edmund grew calmer as they rode through the streets. Finally, they approached the Sherring townhouse.
He stopped the carriage and helped Priscilla and Louisa down, then descended with the little boy. He handed the child to her and the reins to the handler. “I will be a few minutes.”
Priscilla hugged the boy tight. “That’s not necessary, Your Grace. You are welcome to take your leave. I will arrange for the boy’s care.”
Surprise coursed through him, although it shouldn’t have. Of course she would consider the child her personal charge. “You don’t have to take responsibility. I’m happy to find an appropriate place for him.”
She clutched the child tighter. “I will not have him in an orphanage or put to work. He needs someone to care for him.”
“Of course. I have no intention of sending him to an orphanage.” Abuse and neglect ran rampant in such places, which were not much better, and sometimes worse, than the streets.
She paused. “You don’t?”
“Of course not. I was going to find a good family to adopt the boy. As a son , not a worker.”
She held his gaze for a minute more, then relaxed. “I should know you well enou–” She stopped, sighed once more. “I’m sorry I misjudged you.”
Normally, he cared little about what others thought of him, yet Lady Priscilla’s opinion mattered. “He deserves a good home, a place where he can grow and flourish. It’s what every child needs.”
The boy watched them with wide eyes, even as he clutched Priscilla.
“Are you my new mama?”
Priscilla looked down in surprise.
The little boy colored. “It’s just my mama had to go. She was sick, you see.” His little lip quivered. “She told me to be brave. She said if I was very good, I may get a new mama.”
Priscilla’s eyes sheened with liquid emotion. “You are getting your new mama,” she whispered. “I’m bringing you to her right now.”
She smiled softly at him, then at Edmund. “There is no need for you to search for a family. My cook adopted a young boy I brought in from the streets a few years ago, and it was immediate love. She talked about wanting another little one, a brother for her boy. Of course this one is too young to work, but I can give Cook the resources she needs.”
So she had done this before. He wasn’t surprised. “That sounds perfect.”
She turned to a footman. “Please fetch Mrs. Fitzgerald.”
The footman nodded and promptly obeyed. A minute later, a plump middle-aged woman came dashing out of the house. Her blond hair was frizzy, her cheeks ruddy, but she had a natural prettiness highlighted by clear blue eyes and a kindly face. She stopped in front of Priscilla, but her gaze was riveted on the little boy. The little boy stared at the woman and blinked.
Priscilla smiled. “I know you mentioned you would like another one, Mrs. Fitzgerald. This tiny one is alone, and could use a family to call his own. If you’d like–”
“Yes!” With a beaming smile, the woman opened her arms wide. “Yes. Yes. Yes!” She stopped, blushed. “I mean, that would be most suitable, my lady. Hello, little one.”
The little boy looked at Priscilla, who nodded. The child then turned to him, his large eyes seeking approval. Something shifted in his own heart as he nodded. The boy would now have a home and a future. And most importantly, love.
The boy ran to his new mama. Her eyes sheening, she gently lifted him into her arms.
“Oh, are you a wee thing.” Mrs. Fitzgerald clucked. “We’ll get right to work fattening you up. I hope you like to eat.” With a polite nod, she turned back to the house. “Tell me everything you like to eat. Now Mr. Fitzgerald, that’s your new papa, he’s going to be mighty pleased to meet a little man such as yourself. We’re going to have such good times…”
The voices faded as the woman disappeared into the house. Edmund shook his head, but an involuntary smile graced his lips. He was accustomed to helping people, yet seldom did he get to see firsthand the fruits of his labor. It was… extraordinary.
Priscilla gazed after the cook, her expression one of pure happiness. Something stirred within him.
“He’ll be happy,” she murmured. She turned to him, her eyes shining brightly. “I know I didn’t say it before, but thank you. I appreciate what you did for him, and for me.”
“It was my pleasure.”
For a moment, they stared at each other.
In the next, someone not-so-subtly cleared her throat. “Isn’t this a sight to see?”
Edmund fought not to cringe, even as Priscilla showed no such discretion. The Duchess of Sherring looked as if she were about to break into a song and dance of rapture. “Did you children have an enjoyable afternoon?”
“Catherine, I think we know what type of afternoon they had.” In stark contrast to his wife, Priscilla’s father was serious and stern. “It’s why we rushed home.”
Edmund grimaced. He’d expected word of their misadventure to spread, but he never anticipated it to arrive the moment they reached home.
“Bradenton, I’d like a word.”
It was an order, not a request. Of course, he could refuse, but he had a feeling their goals converged. “Of course.”
Priscilla stepped forward. “I don’t think His Grace has time for a meeting now. He was just telling me about a matter requiring his immediate attention.”
The only urgent matter involved Priscilla. “Thank you for your concern, Lady Priscilla, but you misjudged my words. I’m happy to meet with your father.”
She was clearly not happy, yet her choice had been usurped. She gave him one last long look as she followed her mother into the house.
Then he walked into the meeting that could change everything.
“What are they discussing? What’s taking them so long? I should go in there.”
“Don’t you dare!” The duchess stepped in front of Priscilla. “You will not bother the gentlemen when they have important matters to discuss.”
Priscilla gazed down the hallway to her father’s office. Short of hiking up her skirts and leaping over her mother, she would have no say in the discussions that could upend her life.
Not even if her father was soliciting an offer from Bradenton at this very moment.
Her mother confirmed they’d heard about their misadventures, told by friends who’d told friends who’d told friends. In their version, there had been five burly shopkeepers, two wild dogs and a runaway horse. Her parents were obviously displeased, holding her solely responsible, of course.
She forced herself to calm. They could hardly force Bradenton to extend an offer. His only crime was his high-handedness in grasping her, and it took place in public and with mitigating circumstances. Certainly nothing blatant enough to cause a scandal worthy of betrothal.
It didn’t mean her father wouldn’t ask for one.
It didn’t mean Bradenton wouldn’t comply.
“They’re discussing me! I should be in there.”
Her mother didn’t deny it. “There’s nothing to worry about, Priscilla. Your father and I like Bradenton very much. He’s a fine gentleman.”
They had no idea how good he truly was. It was all the more reason she couldn’t marry him. After their incident, he’d shown his true protective nature, lecturing her and then forbidding her from any and all danger. If they married, he would have the legal right to lock her away just as he’d threatened! No doubt he would forbid her from investigating.
Of course, her secret identity as his informant also complicated matters. There was no way to know how he would react to the truth, but one thing was certain: He would be furious.
“I don’t understand you, Priscilla. What’s your game?”
Priscilla looked at her mother. “What do you mean?” she asked carefully. “I have no game.”
“Yes, you do.” The duchess folded her arms across her chest. “You say you’ve accepted your father’s decision regarding marriage.”
“I have. My dance cards are full. I even created a list of eligible suitors.”
“I noticed.” Her mother grimaced. “Are you aware one of them talks to rocks?”
She definitely needed a new list. “I thought you supported interesting hobbies. In any case, your requirements were a title, wealth and upstanding reputation. Every single man on my list meets those requirements.” And, yes, one also talks to rocks. “Why are you are pushing me towards Bradenton?”
“Because I want you to be happy.”
Priscilla started. She had expected her mother to complain the men were not as high-ranked as Edmund, were not as wealthy, talked to inanimate objects. She never expected happiness to matter. “I chose men best suited to my needs.”
“You’re not going to convince me you’ll be happy with a man who speaks to rocks. I know my daughter. You are searching for a man who will leave you alone.”
Priscilla’s breath hitched. Who was this insightful woman? Where was her mother, whose singular goal in life was to secure her daughter a favorable match? “It shouldn’t matter who I marry, as long as they meet your requirements. You know ton marriages better than anyone.”
“I love your father.”
Priscilla stared. Her parents acted with affection, yet they didn’t speak of love. She certainly never expected her mother to admit it. “You are fortunate. Love is not often seen in aristocratic unions .”
“Exactly.” Her mother moved forward, took her hand. “I was not given any choice in my marriage, yet I am grateful for it every day. My parents specifically choose someone well-matched beyond the title and wealth, someone who shared my likes and dislikes, my goals and aspirations. That is what I want for you, Priscilla, and you are not going to find it with a man who speaks to rocks.”
Priscilla moved back, out of her mother’s reach, yet she could not escape her shrewd gaze. “Perhaps not, but that doesn’t mean I would be happy with Bradenton, or anyone else for that matter. With a man like him, I’d have to surrender everything!”
She snapped her mouth shut.
“You underestimate Bradenton,” her mother said quietly. “Do not give up something precious because of fear.”
Priscilla didn’t trust herself to say more, so she just nodded. She should dismiss her mother’s words, consider them a ploy to get her to agree to the favorable match. Yet her frankness shook her.
“Excuse me, Your Grace,” a footman approached. “The Countess of Danvers is here to see you.”
“Oh yes.” The duchess smoothed her dress. “Send her to the blue room and tell her I’ll be there in a moment.”
The footman departed, and the duchess gave Priscilla a small smile. “Please consider what I said.”
Priscilla nodded, wishing she truly could. Yet a life with Bradenton was far too dangerous. He would take control, shattering the path she’d chosen. For now, she would continue to fight, even as the truth remained:
She may not have a choice.
The Duke of Sherring was a tall man, fit and hearty despite his age. His hair was mostly black with fringes of grey, his eyes a piercing green. He possessed the regal bearing of his position, the confidence and skills of a lifetime of leadership.
“Come in,” He gestured Edmund forward into a well-appointed office. Unlike the gaudy excess of Roxbury’s office, this one held subtle hints of luxury in quality furnishings and imported luxuries. “Can I offer you refreshment?”
Edmund shook his head, declining an undoubtedly superb vintage. He preferred his faculties at their sharpest for what could be a very substantial conversation.
“I am dismayed by this afternoon’s events,” The duke wasted no time with trivialities. “Is it true that Lady Priscilla jumped out of your carriage and into an altercation with a shopkeeper?”
Edmund hesitated, nodded. “A most unfortunate incident. I can assure you Lady Priscilla is unharmed. She saved a little boy.”
Sherring sighed, yet pride shined in his eyes. “My daughter wants to save the world. From the time she could write, she sent letters to Parliament urging them to help the poor. She sent so many, they filled an entire barrel.”
Something stirred within him. A memory, as if he’d heard the story before.
“She is a very special lady, a true rare breed. I would keep her forever if I could, but her well-being is too important for such selfishness. She needs someone young and strong to care for her, especially when she gets one of her ideas.” Sherring swirled his drink. “You probably realize the decision to marry was not her own.”
Edmund nodded once more.
“She thinks I betrayed her, but allowing her to run wild forever would be far more of a disservice. If you hadn’t been there today…” His voice trailed off.
Memories of raw fear struck Edmund, powerful even now. “I will not allow Lady Priscilla to come to harm.”
Sherring studied him, his shrewd eyes taking in everything. “No, I don’t suppose you would, when she is with you, of course.” He stood taller. “Now that the immediate danger is alleviated, I am concerned for her reputation. I want her to make a favorable match, although I do not understand some of her choices. Do you know one of her suitors talks to rocks?”
Edmund held back a chuckle. “All too aware.”
“Priscilla needs a strong man, a man not afraid to do what needs to be done to ensure her well-being, protect her from herself if necessary.”
He agreed.
The duke paused once more. “If these escapades continue, people will start to talk. It will start to affect Priscilla, and hence my family. So my question is, Your Grace, how serious are you?”
Edmund straightened.
Sherring was not attempting a trap. He was a man who loved his daughter deeply and wanted the best for his child.
Edmund did not need to consider his answer. “I am most serious.”
Sherring smiled. He lifted his glass. “To the future.”
They exchanged farewells, and now he did partake in that fine vintage. When he walked out of the office, Priscilla looked at them with eager eyes, yet he only smiled mildly. “A productive meeting.”
As he departed, he could feel her wary eyes on him.
She was beginning to understand what Lord Castleberry saw in rocks.
They were consistent. They didn’t pretend to be one type of rock and then turn out to be something altogether different. They didn’t talk back to you, weren’t condescending.
They certainly didn’t take liberties they had no right taking!
“My lord, this isn’t why I wanted to chat with you!” She jumped to the side, barely missing the bony hand of the overreaching lord.
“What else could a woman possibly want to discuss with a man?” Lord Higgins replied, as if a female having anything serious in her mind was beyond comprehension. “Come here, pretty flower.”
Priscilla squeaked as she darted around him. Fortunately, Lord Higgins was uncoordinated, slow and clumsy, especially since he was well into his cups. Goodness. Who went to the theater foxed?
Fear assaulted her. Not for herself physically, but at scandal. Rumors were the man was looking for his third wife.
It should have been an easy investigation. During a break in acts, she would catch the lord in the hallway for a quick chat about politics he was unlikely to remember. She had barely gotten a word out before he started chasing her like an overgrown schoolboy, managing to corner her into one of the prop rooms. Now she had to get out before someone noticed.
“Come here, my darling.”
She firmed up her stance. He was standing in front of the door, but it didn’t matter. One way or another, she was leaving. “Goodbye!” she said sternly, walking to him instead of away. Only he stood in front of the only escape.
“Please move!”
He grinned lecherously. “What will you do to convince me?” He closed his eyes, puckered his lips.
She punched him in the nose.
He squealed and cursed, but veered to the side. She dashed around him, and opened the door to a thankfully empty hallway. She turned quickly. “You should be ashamed of yourself. And if you dare insinuate anything, I’ll tell my–” She stopped, smiled. “I’ll tell Bradenton.”
The lord’s eyes widened, and he gasped. “Don’t worry! There’s no need to tell anyone about your misunderstanding.”
Her misunderstanding? She humphed, but didn’t respond as she fled. Yet another failed investigation. At least Bradenton hadn’t been there to see it.
Time to investigate.
It had been far too long since he had pursued a target.
Edmund prowled the corridors of the theater house, nodding to others as he passed, yet continuing a brisk stride that disavowed any who thought to stop him. He had no time for idle chatter in these few minutes in between acts. Not if he wanted to find Priscilla.
She was here with her family, at the play that was the talk of the town. He had watched her in her box, yet the moment the curtains fell, she fled. Disappearing seemed to be a hobby of hers, far more common than sewing or resting. It made him distinctly uncomfortable.
“I recognize that look.”
“So do I.”
Edmund neither slowed nor responded, even as Crawford and Peyton picked up their pace to keep up with him.
“My goodness, he’s so focused, he doesn’t even see us.” Crawford grinned.
“What do you think he is looking for?” Peyton added.
“Don’t you mean whom?” Crawford corrected.
“Most assuredly.”
Edmund held in a sigh. “Have you seen her?”
With no need to voice the name, his two friends exchanged amused glances. “It’s come to all that?” Crawford inquired. “Not a good look, old chap. I would set about securing her sooner rather than later.”
The idea had definite appeal. “For now I would settle on knowing where she was. And most of all, making certain she isn’t putting herself in danger.” Again.
“I don’t know where the fair Lady Priscilla is, but I do know the location of Lady Hannah and Lady Emma. Since the three are cohorts, perhaps we should ask them.”
“Why do you know where Lady Hannah is?” Edmund asked as he followed Crawford down another corridor to one of the quieter theater sections, which mostly contained storage rooms and offices.
Crawford grinned. “The lady seems to have a penchant for trouble. Just doing my duty as a gentleman.”
It was far more than that, but Edmund didn’t inquire further as Crawford slowed before an ajar door. The lights were off, yet the sound of female voices belied its emptiness.
“Where is she?” Lady Hannah’s timbre was clear. “She’s supposed to be back by now, with valuable information.”
“You don’t think she’s in trouble, do you?” Lady’s Emma’s softer voice crooned.
Suspicion gave way to concern, then concern to worry. It took all his control not to burst into the room, demand Lady Priscilla’s location and scheme.
“She’s fine,” Hannah soothed. “Priscilla has done this many times.”
“She’s had trouble before. She just hasn’t said anything.”
They paused. As the seconds ticked by, his anxiety grew. He would not be able to wait much longer.
“Perhaps we should go look for her,” Emma sighed.
“Let’s give her just another minute.”
It was a minute more than he was willing to spare. Just as Edmund moved forward, a hand on his arm stopped him.
With a finger over his lips, Crawford gestured to a figure in the distance.
Priscilla.
Pure relief flared as she hurried closer, showing no indication she had seen them. A group of matrons stepped in front of her, stopping her progress. Even from a distance, he could see her anxiety at being waylaid.
Yet for him it was an opportunity.
“I have an idea,” he whispered to the two men. “But I need you to get Hannah and Emma away from here.”
Peyton nodded, as Crawford rubbed his hands together. “No problem.”
With quiet movements, the men entered the room. A commotion sounded a moment later, as Peyton and Crawford led two protesting ladies from the room. Edmund kept his back turned as they passed, then glanced back to Priscilla, who was still engaged in conversation, before ducking into the room.
The space was all darkness and shadows. Clearly the women had not wanted to alert others of their presence, and now it worked to his advantage. He moved as far into the shadows as he could, hiding behind a large prop. She would neither see nor easily reach him.
A minute later, the door opened.
“Hannah? Emma?” a low voice whispered. “Where are you? I can’t see you.”
He had to acknowledge her, yet how? Perhaps if he just made a noise, she would think it was one of her friends. He gave a low grunt.
There was a pause.
If it didn’t work, he would just come out and–
“I’m sorry I’m late. The lord got some ideas…”
He couldn’t stop a low growl.
“Don’t worry, Hannah. I punched him in the nose.”
Anger melted into satisfaction, then back to anger. When he found that lord…
She sighed. “I got nothing from him, absolutely nothing. It’s all Bradenton’s fault!”
What in the world had happened, and how was it his fault?
“Bradenton wasn’t even there. He doesn’t have to be.” Footsteps thudded, the clear sound of her pacing. “His existence is enough! I’m always so worried he’ll show up, I’m making mistakes. That’s how I accidentally ruined what could have been a very productive afternoon.” She sighed. “I know the question you are too polite to ask: why am I always thinking about Edmund?”
For a moment, Priscilla said nothing, yet he could imagine her with her hands on her hips, her cheeks flushed.
“I have no idea!” she exclaimed. “It was that kiss. Oh goodness, I didn’t mean to admit we kissed.”
She breathed out. “Emma, Hannah, I just don’t know what to do. He affects me like no other, and not just because of what we are to each other.”
What were they to each other?
“I pretend he infuriates me, but in truth, he’s amazing. He’s so much more than a gorgeous, eligible lord. He’s kind and giving, thoughtful and so very smart. And delicious. Oh goodness.” She gave a nervous laugh. “Did I just call a duke delicious? Despite everything, I want Bradenton to grab me and give me another kiss that makes my insides sizzle.” She sighed. “You’ve been so quiet. Tell me what you think.”
It was time. He moved out of the shadows.
The scream rattled the entire room.