Page 8 of Never Second Guess a Lord
“Are you though?” Her sister, Grace, would have asked if she were here. “Or have you simply locked yourself away in yet another cage?”
Grace, or Lady Grace Howard, had visited her as often as Prudence’s late husband would allow. Where in the early years, she had appreciated it, as time went on and Grace became married, Prudence started to dread it. She had begun to invite Grace less because she cared naught about the mad love her sister felt for her husband nor the fairytale life in which she lived. Invited her less because she cared naught about the mad love she felt for her husband nor the fairytale life in which she lived.
That was neither here nor there now, so she set it from her mind as she and Maude made their way downstairs. The great hall had undergone a transformation over the past few days in preparation for the festivities. More chairs were set about, and musicians came and went, setting up instruments in various rooms.
“Tomorrow is bound to be great fun.” Maude smiled and thanked a servant who handed them refreshments at the bottom of the stairs. “Most especially the festival in town.” She gave Prudence a rather stern look before she could deny her. “As my guest, I fully expect you to join me. It will be good for you to get some fresh air.”
While going to a festival sounded awful, she knew by the firm set of Maude’s jaw denying her would be a waste of time.
“Besides,” Maude went on despite receiving no argument, “I would like you to get to know my husband better. And, of course, the Duke of Argyll because he is a good family friend.” She arched an eyebrow at her as they stopped in front of the great hall fire to allow men carrying a pianoforte to pass. “One who has been asking after you.”
“Whatever for?” He was positively the last person Prudence wanted to see. If she had her way, she would have remained in her bedroom until he departed. “I would think he would have very little interest in my whereabouts.”
“As would I,” Maude agreed a tad too bluntly. “Yet he seems eager to spend more time with you.”
She tried not to frown, as it was unbecoming for a lady, but Lord, did she scowl on the inside. That man was infuriating. From the blatant way he had behaved years ago to his argumentative behavior in the drawing room the other day. Now that the wordbaitedhad been used, she suspected the duke was up to no good. Perhaps eager to settle the score, which spoke much to his character. But then, should she be so surprised?
He was clearly as ill-mannered now as he had been years before.
She might have been polite enough to excuse his behavior by denying she had ever called him “Rothesay the Scoundrel”, but she would not be so gracious a second time. Not if he pulled something untoward in order to reap some uncouth revenge. Because truly, all she had nowadays was her good name.
“I cannot imagine why he wishes to spend time with a widower he claims insulted him. I would think his time better spent in London.” She tried not to narrow her eyes as she scanned the busy hall for him. “The season is just beginning, and he is in need of a wife, is he not?”
“While some might say yes, I doubt he will ever take one,” Maude said softly, catching Prudence off guard with her sudden despair. “How could he when he will only ever love his late wife? Or so they say.” Her eyes grew glassy. “Few have found such deep love from what I hear. Such a timeless connection.” She shook her head and rested her hand over her heart. “I hear he suffered from deep melancholy after he lost her. That he swore never to remarry.”
Leave it to Maude to grow overemotional, however intriguing the topic. Honestly, she found his sentiment hard to believe, considering his flirtatious manner years ago. What game was he playing? It made little sense, given his actions when with a woman he claimed to love so much. While not one to gossip, one thing stood out the most about his supposed heartache.
“I find it hard to believe he does not wish to remarry,” she said, “as his late wife did not provide him with an heir, did she?”
“However much he wished it, I fear not.” Maude dabbed the corners of her eyes with a dainty handkerchief. “Yet that does not drive him to remarry. No surprise, I suppose, given the duke does not seem all that enamored with his new title or its obligations.”
“Goodness.” Did he not realize that however atrocious, he could keep on with his womanizing ways despite his title and marriage? Her late husband certainly had. “How odd.”
“To say the least.” Just like that Maude broke into a smile and whipped out a fan when she spied her husband and the duke heading their way. “But very romantic, yes?”
Romantic? No such thing existed, and her impetuous sister best learn that soon. However enamored Lord MacLauchlin might seem when he kissed Maude on the cheek, then gazed at her so lovingly, it was surely all for show.
The duke offered Prudence what must appear—to most—a warm smile. “So good to see you again, Lady Barrington.”
It was no such thing, and he knew it. Still, she curtsied. “Your Grace.”
He looked quite the sight in his evening finery. Whether or not she found his sort appalling, she could not fault the appreciative glances he received from women. Between his title and dashing appearance, some might consider him quite the catch. Most would likely find him handsome with his masculine, chiseled features and thick ebony hair. Where she preferred a man with fairer hair and a less intimidating build, she supposed some might be drawn to his broad-shouldered height.
“I hope you have enjoyed your stay so far, Lady Barrington.” Lord MacLauchlin tore his gaze away from her sister long enough to be civil. “I encourage you to enjoy everything Castle MacLauchlin has to offer.”
“Thank you.” She nodded graciously. “I appreciate your hospitality, Lord MacLauchlin.”
“Oh, stop being so formal.” Maude waved her off. “We are all family here.” She grinned at the duke. “Even Jacob. I mean, Your Grace.”
“Sister,” she snapped, baffled by Maude’s behavior. While no great fan ofJacob’s, as she called him, her lack of decorum was beyond reproach, and Prudence made that clear when she looked at him. “My deepest apologies, Your Grace.” How to explain it? “My sister’s upbringing was not of the caliber to which you are accustomed.”
“Yet it is a caliber that is most welcome in my—our—castle, Lady Barrington,” Lord MacLauchlin said tightly before he held out his elbow to Maude. “If you will join me, Lady MacLauchlin? I believe we are needed elsewhere.” He perked a brow at the duke. “Perhaps, as you are indeed like kin, Your Grace, you would enjoy showing Lady Barrington around Castle MacLauchlin before dinner is served?”
“But, of course, Lord MacLauchlin.”
Where she thought for sure Maude would titter on and remain by her side as she would have before, her sister did the opposite. Instead, she gave Prudence a cordial enough smile, linked arms with her husband, and strolled off without another word.
The duke held out the crook of his elbow. “Shall we, then, Lady Barrington?”
