London Temptations: Historical Regency Romance Collection Read online

  “I thank you,” Prudence murmured as the gentleman bowed again, his eyes bright with a feverish hope that Prudence would not encourage. “I very much hope you enjoy the rest of the evening.”

  The man’s smile faded at once, the light in his eyes blown out in a moment. It seemed he now realized that she would not be inclined toward conversing with him further or improving their acquaintance. With evident reluctance, the gentleman inclined his head and then turned away, walking through the crowd of guests until Prudence could no longer glimpse him.

  “Thank heavens,” she said as her mother looked on with a touch of disapproval playing about her mouth. “I have such a painful foot; I am not certain I shall be able to dance again this evening.” Wincing, Prudence resisted the urge to sit down and rub her foot with her hands, knowing that such actions would be considered most improper. “The fool was ridiculous, Mama.”

  “What did you say his title was?” Lady Devonshire asked, now looking a little frustrated rather than disapproving. “I do not recall.”

  A mischievous twitch of Prudence’s lips gave Lady Devonshire her answer before she even had need to ask.

  “You mean to say that you have forgotten his name entirely?” Prudence’s mother asked, throwing up her hands in evident horror. “Good gracious, Prudence. How can you behave in such a way?”

  Without the least bit of embarrassment, Prudence shrugged her shoulders and looked out again at the crowd. “That particular gentleman did not capture my attention in any way,” she said plainly. “And you know very well that I shall not give my time to such a fellow. There are plenty of gentlemen within the ballroom this evening whom I am acquainted with and whose names I remember very well indeed.” She smiled at her mother. “But as for the other gentlemen, I forget their names so that there is no requirement for me to ever be in their company again.”

  Lady Devonshire tutted and shook her head, but Prudence only laughed. This was now her second Season and she was determined to bring herself as much enjoyment as possible. Yes, there was the requirement that she find a husband, but her father, Lord Devonshire, was in no particular hurry to push his daughter into a hasty match. Rather, he seemed inclined to allow her to become acquainted with as many gentlemen as she wished—perhaps in the hope that she would be able to find a suitable match of her own volition.

  Her mother, however, was rather displeased with such a situation and continued to push Prudence in the direction of gentlemen that she thought to be more than suitable, even though Prudence had very little interest in them whatsoever.

  “I think Lord Stutton,” her mother said with emphasis, “might have been an excellent sort of fellow, even if he was not a particularly good dancer.”

  “And yet, I have no interest in him,” Prudence replied firmly. She could not quite say why there was no interest on her part, given that the gentleman had been rather handsome and with impeccable manners—save for his lack of dancing ability. However, she certainly was not going to consider him. Her foot still ached, and she had not enjoyed a moment of being in his company.

  “Is that not your late cousin’s husband?” Lady Devonshire asked, momentarily distracted from her thoughts of Prudence’s lack of interest in Lord Stutton. “Whatever is he doing here?”

  Prudence, a little surprised, looked in the direction of her mother’s gaze and immediately spotted the gentleman. Baron Yardley had married Prudence’s cousin, Mary, some two years ago, only for Mary herself to take ill a few short months after the wedding. The illness had been prolonged, and Prudence knew that Baron Yardley had been distraught over his wife’s pain. When she had visited them both, Prudence had been touched by Lord Yardley’s tenderness toward his wife, recalling the agony in his face and the sadness in his eyes as he had cared for his frail young wife. When she had passed away, Prudence had heard that Baron Yardley had become something of a recluse, which made it all the more surprising that he was now present here in London.

  “I presume he might be here to enjoy the Season, Mama,” Prudence answered slowly, wondering if she ought to make her way toward him and greet him. “It has been over a year since Mary’s passing. He will need a wife to give him an heir.”

  Lady Devonshire tutted as though such a statement was more than she could bear, even though Prudence knew she spoke the truth.

  “Perhaps we should go to greet him,” Prudence suggested, moving forward before her mother could pull her back or prevent her from doing so. After a moment, Prudence felt her mother’s presence beside her, although one glance into Lady Devonshire’s face told her that her mother was not particularly pleased with Prudence’s intention.

  Lord Yardley glanced in their direction, then turned a little more fully and held his arms out as though he intended to embrace them both.

  “Lady Devonshire!” he exclaimed, his handsome face warm with evident delight. “And Lady Prudence, how wonderful to see you both.”

  Prudence curtsied quickly, smiling warmly at Lord Yardley as she rose. “You are in London, Lord Yardley,” she said as Lady Devonshire murmured a hurried greeting. “Are you here for the Season?”

  Lord Yardley shrugged. “That is my intention, yes,” he replied, a small frown pulling his smile from his lips as though he expected a criticism to fly from either Prudence or Lady Devonshire’s lips. “It has been a difficult few months and I confess I hoped to find a little joy and a little relief back in London.”

  “But of course,” Prudence said quickly, before her mother could say a word. “I understand.” Hoping her smile was an encouraging one, she gestured to the rest of the ballroom. “And this ball has lifted your spirits somewhat, then?”

  Lord Yardley smiled back at her. “Indeed it has,” he said with such a fervor in his voice that Prudence wanted to believe him to be speaking the truth. “It is good to be in society and to be in company again. It removes some of the sorrow from my heart and mind, although I am certain now that it shall never completely depart from me.”

  Not quite sure what to say to this, Prudence merely nodded, aware that, from what Lord Yardley said, he had truly cared for Mary. Whilst that was what she herself eagerly desired, Prudence realized that with such strong emotions could also come great sorrow and sadness. The burden on Lord Yardley’s soul must now be very heavy indeed.

  “But we shall speak of no more sorrowful things,” Lord Yardley said briskly, shattering the atmosphere of melancholy that had begun to creep over them. “Should you like to dance, Lady Prudence? I am certain that your dance card is full already but if there is a single dance remaining, I should be very glad to have it.”

  “And you must come to take tea, or to dinner,” Lady Devonshire said as Prudence eagerly handed her dance card to Lord Yardley, glad that her mother had chosen to be welcoming rather than silently judgmental. “I shall have my husband make arrangements with you.”

  At this, Lord Yardley’s smile grew all the more, the last few strands of tension leaving his expression. “I should be very glad of that, Lady Devonshire,” he told her. “Truly grateful indeed.”

  “Excellent,” Lady Devonshire said brightly. “And I am certain that Prudence would be very glad indeed to dance with you—provided that you do not tread on her feet.”

  Prudence laughed, looking up at her mother and seeing her lips twitch. Lord Yardley, a little mystified in his expression, promised solemnly not to do so and then handed Prudence back her card. She smiled as she saw his name down for both the country dance and, later, the quadrille.

  “You are very kind,” she told him, but Lord Yardley merely waved a hand.

  “It is I who am honored to have a dance with you,” he answered, making her blush just a little. “I look forward to it, Lady Prudence.”

  “As do I,” Prudence answered truthfully. “Thank you, Lord Yardley.”

  She did not have time to speak further for another gentleman approached her, reminding her by his presence that she was now due to dance the cotillion. Excusing herself, she left her mot
her and Lord Yardley to converse and stepped out to dance once more, feeling quite satisfied with herself. Whether or not she found herself a suitable gentleman, whether or not she even accepted the court of an interested party, Prudence was certain that this Season was going to be a very enjoyable one indeed.

  1

  Dinner with Lord Yardley had gone very well indeed. Lord Devonshire had quickly made an invitation and, only two days after the ball, he had come to join the family for dinner. The evening had been an excellent one, for Lord Yardley had been in high spirits and had made wonderful conversation with them all. Even Lady Devonshire had lost her lingering haughtiness, evidently charmed by Lord Yardley’s company and conversation.

  The following morning, however, Prudence was rather rudely awakened, despite her eagerness to remain abed for a little longer. While she had still been in the depths of slumber, some maids had hurried into the room and had set about making certain that Prudence was not able to linger there. The drapes had been flung open, the sunlight streaming through, and a breakfast tray then set out for her. Prudence had groaned and had forced herself to sit up, only to be met with the presence of her mother, who had reminded her that they had afternoon calls very soon and that Prudence had to be prepared for them. Thus, Prudence had chosen not to lie back down and curl up into sleep once more but had instead determined to prepare herself for what she hoped would be a most enjoyable afternoon.

  “You do look rather fatigued still,” Lady Devonshire murmured as Prudence sat primly in her chair, ready for the first of their afternoon callers to arrive. “You should not have remained abed so long.”

  Prudence laughed and shook her head. “Mama, I should not have perhaps lingered in wakefulness last evening before retiring to bed,” she told her mother, who arched one eyebrow. “I found that, despite the lateness of the hour, my thoughts were still tied to Lord Yardley and my late cousin, Mary—to the point that I simply could not close my eyes for some time.”

  Lady Devonshire shook her head and sighed in a most discontented fashion. “Prudence, you are ridiculous,” she said firmly. “You state that there is no particular gentleman that interests you and yet you then think very deeply about Lord Yardley, who is entirely unsuitable, to the point of remaining awake instead of resting.” She clicked her tongue in exasperation. “Pray, do not tell me that you intend to seek out Lord Yardley, Prudence. He is much too low in title to be suitable for you. Surely you can understand that?”

  Again, Prudence chuckled, shaking her head at her mother’s folly. “I am not at all eager to further my acquaintance with Lord Yardley, Mama,” she told her, speaking with both honesty and the awareness that, should she ever find any gentleman of interest, she certainly would not speak to her mother about such things. Only if it came to the point of courtship would Prudence consider speaking to her mother about how she felt. “I was merely considering the loss that he has endured and wondering if he should ever find such happiness again. I should, I think, like him to do so—although I have no intention of filling such a role myself.”

  “I see,” Lady Devonshire murmured, a small gleam in her eye betraying the fact that, mayhap, she did not quite believe Prudence to be speaking the truth. “Whilst I will confess I am glad to hear it and hope that you speak honestly, I should also remind you that you have received a few gifts this morning.” She indicated the bunches of flowers that were sitting proudly in various decorative vases. “To receive such a thing after yesterday’s afternoon calls speaks rather highly of a gentleman’s regard for you, Prudence.”

  Having not noticed them before, Prudence looked at them with little interest. “I do not recall who came to visit yesterday, Mama.”

  With a sigh of evident disapproval, Lady Devonshire quickly reeled off the names of the gentlemen who had sent Prudence flowers, watching her daughter carefully in case Prudence should give any indication that the names meant something to her. Prudence ignored this entirely, choosing for the moment to remain silent, her hands settling in her lap as she waited for their first afternoon caller. The flowers were very beautiful indeed and she certainly appreciated the generosity, but her heart was not going to be swayed by a mere gift. None of the gentlemen were of any real interest to her, none had captured her interest in even the smallest manner, and therefore, she was not about to feign any sort of delight about being in their company again when she did not feel it within her heart.

  “And so we are to have Lord Stutton calling upon us again, I believe.”

  Prudence’s eyes flared wide and she looked sharply at her mother, who only laughed.

  “It seems you have been paying very little attention to what I have told you, Prudence,” Lady Devonshire continued. “Did you not know that Lord Stutton is to call upon you again?” Her smile lingered, transforming her usual severe expression into something a little brighter. “Even if you have no desire to consider him, it seems that he is all the more eager to consider you.”

  Groaning inwardly, Prudence closed her eyes and felt her shoulders sink low. It was not as though she had expected this afternoon to be of any real interest to her, but she had anticipated there would be some enjoyment in it—although with gentlemen such as Lord Stutton calling upon her, Prudence was no longer sure that she would have even a moment of enjoyment. Lord Stutton had called only yesterday and now would be doing so again. Why did the man not realize that she was not at all interested in his presence?

  The door opened and the butler announced Lord Stutton’s name.

  “Stand up, Prudence,” Lady Devonshire hissed as Prudence reluctantly opened her eyes. “And smile, for heaven’s sake.”

  Forcing her lips to curve into a rather lackluster expression of welcome, Prudence sighed heavily as Lord Stutton walked into the room. The way he looked at her made her skin prickle with distaste, for there was that gleam of hope and eagerness in his eyes, as well as a slightly lewd smile that she disliked intensely.

  “Lord Stutton,” Lady Devonshire said warmly. “Do come in and sit down. How very good of you to call on us.”

  “Very good,” Prudence echoed, before sitting down quickly in her chair and praying that the rest of the afternoon would not be as torturous as this.

  “The carriage will be waiting, Mama.”

  A trifle exasperated, Prudence paced the hallway with the expectation that her mother would soon appear and permit them both to climb into the carriage so that they could attend Hyde Park’s fashionable hour. It was something that Prudence greatly enjoyed, for even though the park was very busy at such a time, there was an excitement about being amongst the nobility. One might speak a little more freely in Hyde Park, for there was so much conversation and noise that one could dare to be a little less discreet.

  “Mama.”

  Her calls remained unanswered and Prudence bit her lip, wondering if her mother was punishing her for being less than welcoming to the gentlemen that had come to call.

  It was not as though Prudence had been rude, for she had behaved and spoken well, but rather that she had given no encouragement to any of the gentlemen who had sought to further their acquaintance with her. When they had stated that they hoped to dance with her at the next ball, she had only smiled rather than echo the sentiment back to them. When they had suggested that one day, she might like to take a walk through Saint James’s Park with them, Prudence had told them that she preferred Hyde Park’s fashionable hour, which she and her mother were soon to attend. And when they had taken their leave, Prudence did not express any eagerness that they call again or give them any hope that such a sentiment might one day be expressed.

  Lady Devonshire had not appeared to be cross with her, although there had been very little said thereafter. She had merely ushered Prudence out to prepare for their carriage ride and had stated nothing about what Prudence had said or done during the course of the afternoon calls.

  But now, her tardiness and Prudence’s growing frustration made Prudence believe that this was some sort of punishment
, some obvious sign that Lady Devonshire had not been pleased with what had occurred. Sighing heavily, Prudence meandered to the front door and looked out at the waiting carriage, the butler standing to attention and waiting, as she was, for Lady Devonshire to appear.

  Whatever is keeping you, Mama?

  There was no point in calling for her mother again, no use in hurrying up the staircase in search of her. Lady Devonshire would come when she was prepared and not a moment sooner—whether she was doing it as a way to punish Prudence or not. Closing her eyes, Prudence pushed aside her frustration and tried to breathe calmly. Irritation would do nothing but upset her further.

  “Lady Prudence?”

  Her eyes flew open as she heard someone speak her name. Blinking rapidly, she was astonished to see none other than Lord Yardley approaching, hurrying up the steps toward her and looking over his shoulder as though he expected someone to be following him.

  “Lord Yardley,” she said with a smile, thoroughly delighted to see him. “Good afternoon. Are you coming to call?” She gestured to the carriage. “I would have been very glad to see you, but we are, I am afraid, about to—”

  Lord Yardley shook his head, cutting her off as he stepped past her into the house, moving so that he stood in the shadow of the door. Prudence had no other choice but to go with him, finding herself very confused by this strange behavior.

  “Lady Prudence, I must beg something of you,” Lord Yardley said, looking at her with wide, frightened eyes. “Pray, do not ask me what it is, for it is best that you know very little.”