Page 50 of A Widow for the Earl
He nodded slowly. “Yet, you evidently remember saying I have a nice chin. How curious, then, that you can remember one thing but not the other, when they were said around the same time.”
She took a deep breath, preparing to defend herself until he either gave up on the conversation or pretended to forget everything she had said, when the breakfast room door opened.
Prudence lumbered in, pale and clutching her stomach, groaning with each step. “Goodness, I feel awful.” She flashed a nonchalant smile at her brother. “You ought to check that port of yours, Brother; I believe it must be rotten.”
“Liquor does not rot,” he replied stiffly. “However, drinking as much as you didwillrot your stomach for a while.”
Prudence flopped down in the nearest chair and stole the last three pieces of toast from the silver rack. “I needed its assistance, Brother, so please do not be angry with Bea about the entire thing.Iwas the one who coaxed her from her room.Iwas the one who opened the bottle. It was all me, so if you have already scolded her, apologize.”
“She could have stopped you,” he pointed out.
“And I would have continued regardless,” Prudence argued. “If anything, she prevented me from getting myself into a worse mess by keeping me company. Bea, has he chided you?”
Beatrice shook her head. “No.”
“Good, I am glad.” Prudence tore a piece of toast off with her teeth, chewing gingerly. “The moment I woke up, that was all I could think about, worrying over how Vincent would treat you this morning. That is why, as much as I wish I was still in my bed, I am down here.”
Vincent took a last sip of his coffee. “I have said nothing to Miss Johnson that is not fair and true. In truth, with so much to discuss, I did not get around to scolding her.”
Do not dare!Beatrice’s heart lurched along with her stomach, fearing he was about to reveal her merry ramblings to Prudence.
“What do you mean?” Prudence frowned as she continued to chew. “What else could you possibly have to discuss? Were you talking about where on earth you snuck out to last night, Brother?”
There was a pointed look in the younger woman’s eyes, as if to say:You did not behave too well, either, abandoning the house as you did.
Or, perhaps, that was just Beatrice projecting her own thoughts about the situation. If he hadnotridden out to who-knew-where, they would have had no opportunity to make the most of an empty drawing room and a stocked liquor table.
“It is none of your concern,” Vincent said, glancing at Beatrice, a sly look in his eyes. “Just be glad that I have not scolded her—or you, for that matter—and let it lie.”
Prudence seemed to consider her options. “So, you are not going to shout at me?”
“Not this morning, for I shall let you have the relief of knowing there is no story about you in the scandal sheets instead,” Vincent replied, rising to his feet. “Later, perhaps, though that shall depend upon how you behave today. The servantswillbe observing, Pru, so do try to be good.”
Oh, thank goodness Prudence is not ruined.
Beatrice cleared her throat of toast. “Where are you going?”
“I have a meeting with Duncan,” he said, heading for the door.
Beatrice jumped up. “May I accompany you? I should like to see Valeria and Charlotte, and if you are going there anyway, you can have no argument.”
“Oh, I should like to come too!” Prudence chirped. “Now that I am not a scandalous wench, I can be seen in society again.Shouldbe, in truth.”
Vincent put up his hand. “Duncan is cominghere. We shall be in my study for most of the morning, I expect.” He walked out, tossing back over his shoulder. “If you want to visit Valeria and the girl, you will have to prove to me that you can be trusted to do so.”
Beatrice glowered at the empty space where he had been, simmering with irritation. It felt, yet again, as if she were back at her childhood home on the rare occasions that her parents were also there. Perhaps feeling a need to make up for lost time, they had always made a conscientious effort to make her feel as small and stupid as possible: banning her from doing things, judging everything from her appearance to her rapport with the staff, deciding on a whim that she would be prohibited from attending society events for a month or so, among so many other slights. They, too, had often insisted that she should not be permitted to see her friends until she could ‘prove she could be trusted.’
Is that his next trick to be rid of me—following my parents’ rules of engagement?
After all, ithadworked for them. They no longer had her in their home, or had to think about her ever again.
“Lockie,” Vincent said with some surprise, for he had not expected to find his friend already waiting in the entrance hall. “When did you arrive? I was not informed.”
Duncan sat as still as a statue on one of the upholstered chairs in the alcove of a bay window, his gaze colder than Vincent had ever seen it. “A while ago,” he said. “Long enough.”
Did he hear any of that conversation?
A slight creep of embarrassment made its way up Vincent’s neck. “Well, shall we go to my study? Are you in need of refreshment?”
