Page 13 of Never Second Guess a Lord
Yet he knew he could not.
Especially when he laid eyes on her an hour or so later and saw the last thing he wanted to see.
Chapter Five
If Prudence couldrace back upstairs like a wallflower desperate to escape, she would, but those days were long gone. Instead, she found herself surrounded by men wishing to speak with her. Eyeing her with far too much appreciation, in her opinion. Were they blind? Did they not see she was past her prime? For goodness sake, she was dressed discreetly enough.
“I am so sorry to have left you alone for even a moment,” Maude said upon her return. “The head cook needed me.” She nodded graciously to the men surrounding Prudence, bid them a lovely evening, and gestured across the way. “Pardon us, gentlemen. Lord MacLauchlin and the Duke of Argyll await us.”
“The next time you need to see to the kitchens, please let me know ahead of time,” Prudence hissed out of the corner of her mouth. “I was bombarded for lack of a better word.”
“I think perhaps you were just admired, sister.” Maude’s newborn smirk fell beneath Prudence’s stern look. “Despite that horrid dress, you really are quite stunning. And out of mourning, lest it slipped your mind.”
“I am no such thing,” she stuttered. “Stunning, that is.” She sighed and shook her head, surprisingly relieved to see Jacob and Lord MacLauchlin heading their way. “What I mean to say is I am only just out of mourning, and opportunists should realize that.” She saw things for what they were. “It is clear word has gotten out that I am a wealthy titled widow now.”
“Or,” Maude countered gently, “they simply see what I do. A beautiful young woman who is out of mourning.”
“Young?” Was her sister mad? “I am no such thing.”
“You are younger than I,” Maude reminded.
“Your point?” She worked against an improper frown when she wanted to outright scowl. “As you are quite old, too.”
“Perhaps.” Maude seemed to be holding back a chuckle as she looked Lord MacLauchlin’s way with unabashed affection. “And even so, my husband looks at me with love and desire because he knows this night, like every other, and all moments we try to steal in between, I am still—”
“Stop.” Proper decorum or not, this time, shedidscowl at her sister. “I need not know about your private affairs, Maude. That is one step too far.”
Maude’s eyebrows shot up. “Even for sisters?”
“Mostespeciallyfor sisters.” How could she not see that? Then again, thiswasMaude. “While granted, you are lovely, you must understand any discussion having to do with intimacy is most inappropriate. That is for you and your husband alone.” She nodded once and gave her sister a stern look. “Do you understand?”
“I do,” Maude said readily enough, yet Prudence did not miss the smirk once again hovering beneath her dutiful façade. “My apologies, dear sister.”
Lucky for Maude, because Prudence had a bit more to say about the matter, the Duke of Argyll and Lord MacLauchlin finally joined them. Strangely, just like that, any irritation she might have had with her sister fled when Jacob held out the crook of his elbow to her.
“Might you join me to dine, Lady Barrington?” Scottish brogue and all, his deep, rich voice curled through her in a way it had not before.
She slipped her arm into his. “I would like that, Your Grace.”
While she would not exactly call them allies, he had, however odd considering her hatred of him for so long, become a welcome rescuer. So to speak. Anything to keep those foolish men who had flirted with her away.
The truth was Jacob had surprised her when they’d spoken earlier. No, that was not the right word. He hadshockedher. If she had learned nothing else during her long, lonely years of dealing with her late husband, it was how to spot lies. How to hear how genuine words might be.
As it turned out, the Duke of Argyll was a truthful man.
Moreover, he was a loving man. A creature she had no idea what to make of, but there he had been sitting in front of the fire earlier, telling her things she could never have imagined a man saying about his wife. Never imagined feeling. Because he had, whether he realized it or not. She had seen his eyes grow glassy when he stared at the flames. Heard the pain in his voice.
Knew, without question, he had loved his late wife.
What she could not understand was the discrepancy between what she remembered about her first encounter with him and his viewpoint about how it had actually gone. It made no sense. He had flirted. Made eyes at her.
Orhadhe?
She was certain he had but feared her own mind at that particular point. Her relationship with her late husband, Randolph, had turned especially difficult around then. She had learned things she had not expected about him. So what if she saw something that was not really there during her encounter with Jacob?
Fortunately, she and the duke sat beside each other at dinner, much welcomed not only because she had no interest in fending off more unwanted suitors but because she rather enjoyed chatting with him. As to be expected, he was educated on a great many things, but it was more than that. He lent liveliness to what would normally be hum-drum conversations.
So said the tour he had given her earlier.
