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BOOK: Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage]
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He smiled. “I doubt Sir Lee will make the same mistake again, not after you ever so tactfully straightened him out. Headmaster Dunn would’ve been proud.”

“Still…”

“Shh.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I want to ask a favor of you, Edwina.”

“Certainly.”

“I want you to…um, well, stay away from Daphne, uh, Lady Pomfry.”

Daphne.

Jealousy snaked around her heart so piercingly she almost gasped. “Why?”

He wouldn’t meet her gaze. “She’s just…well…apt to cause trouble.”

Edwina licked her suddenly dry lips. “She still wants to be with you.” It was a statement; any sane woman would want to be with him.

“Nay. She just likes drama.”

Liar.

His hand rubbed her shoulder in a very brotherly way. “And I’ve asked the same of her.”

Edwina stiffened. “So you spoke with her?”

“Her rooms are down the hall from Sir Lee’s. I ran into her on my way back.”

A terrible pit formed in her belly. What else had they discussed?

At the look on her face, Prescott hugged her close.
“You’ve nothing to worry about with Daphne. She and I are finished. There’s nothing there.”

Edwina swallowed, wishing she could believe it. She trusted Prescott, knowing he wasn’t the kind to double deal, but Edwina didn’t trust Lady Pomfry, not by a hair.

“We should join the rest of the guests,” he urged. “Make ourselves seen so that later we can sneak off and take a turn at Lord Cunningham’s rooms. He’s next on our list.” He kissed her temple. “The sooner we get started, the sooner we can put a stop to Ginny’s nightmare.”

It took every ounce of willpower for Edwina to resist the desperate urge to pull him deeper into the garden and ravage him right then and there, claim him for her own. But Prescott was right, they were here for a reason, and Ginny was counting on them.

“I will stay away from Lady Pomfry,” she murmured. “But I want your assurance that you won’t do anything to encourage her or attract her attentions.”

“Please, Edwina.” His tone was affronted. “Give me a little more credit than that.”

“I just mean, well, not that you’d encourage her, but she may get the wrong idea in her head…”

“Look, Edwina. The only person whose head you should be concerned with is mine. And all I can think about is you.” Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he led her toward the house. Her legs felt leaden as she stepped alongside him.

“Daphne probably didn’t even know I was going to be here when she accepted the invitation. I’m possibly the farthest thought from her mind.”

Edwina doubted that was true. At this very moment Lady Pomfry was probably scheming and contriving a way to land herself back in Prescott’s bed. For if the roles were reversed, Edwina would be doing exactly the same.

E
dwina eyed Lady Pomfry as a mongoose eyes a viper, knowing that they were natural enemies and that with one wrong move she would be struck dead.

It wasn’t that Lady Pomfry had said anything particularly antagonistic. It was the way she looked at Edwina; with such vehement animosity that Edwina’s hair stood on end. Trying to keep in mind Prescott’s words, Edwina wondered if she wasn’t being a bit melodramatic.

Mayhap her ill will stemmed from the fact that Lady Pomfry stood in a circle of astoundingly fashionable gentlemen and ladies, and Edwina felt like a straggly weed standing next to the wine service all by herself. And, she had to admit, from the fact that the lady was lovely enough to cause even the most devoted man’s head to turn.

Tonight the blue-eyed, flaxen-haired matron wore a semitransparent ivory silk tiffany gown, showing off, in intimate detail, her voluptuous curves. The gown was cut low and her stays strung tight, causing her breasts to rise so high they looked like fleshy globes, bouncing with every movement.

The poor gentlemen gathering in the candlelit blue-and-gold salon seemed hardly able to look her in the eye, their gazes instinctively straying downward whenever she stopped to speak with one of them. Try as they might, their gazes seemed to flit back to those bouncing breasts, then quickly veer away once more, as if the spectacle was an undeniable magnet. Edwina was more than a bit fascinated and simultaneously disgusted by the display.

“Good evening, Lady Ross.” Nodding to Edwina, Lord Elliott moved to stand before the wine service. “Two, please,” he asked the servant.

As the white-gloved servant poured the claret, Edwina asked, “Perhaps you could assist me with something, my lord.”

He faced her. “Yes, my lady?”

“You’re an excellent dancer and I’m having trouble remembering the second turn in the
Rubingé.
Would you indulge me a moment and show it to me?”

The man scratched his balding head. “Here?”

“If you would, it’s been plaguing me…”

“Very well.” Positioning one foot across the other, he did the fanciful turn, exposing the entire soul of his black-bottomed shoe.

It had been a long shot, but it was worth a try. And it took her mind off of Lady Pomfry’s bouncing bosom.
Edwina gave him a winning smile. “Ah, now I recall it. Thank you, my lord. I am most appreciative.”

“You are very welcome.” Accepting the two glasses of claret from the white-gloved servant, he nodded his farewell and trotted off.

“The man must think me daft,” Edwina muttered under her breath as she moved to stand by the open French doors leading to the empty terrace. She’d be known as daft, clumsy, left at the altar…

Her pride pricked, but thinking of how Prescott didn’t worry overmuch about how the world viewed him settled Edwina’s ruffled pride. Perhaps she wasn’t completely like her father after all.

The cool evening breeze pressed pleasantly against her back, and the fresh scent of the garden was preferable to the heavy aroma of wax from the many candelabra in the chamber. She sipped her claret and enjoyed the moment.

Leaning heavily on her cane, Ginny joined Edwina. Upon noticing Lady Pomfry across the room, Ginny glowered. “Her stays must be cut down. I’ve seen it done before, the better to expose her breasts for every licentious eye.”

“I don’t think she intends it for
every
eye.” Janelle approached them. “Where is Prescott anyway?”

Trying to hide her discomfiture about Lady Pomfry, Edwina sipped her drink. “Since we knew that Lady Kendrick likes to gather for a time before moving in to dinner, we took a quick turn at Lord Cunningham’s room after he’d gone.”

“You went into a gentleman’s bedchamber?” Janelle interrupted.

“Pray give me a little more credit than that.” Edwina
scowled. “I stood guard. There’s a perfect alcove for observing Lord Cunningham’s rooms…” And for hot, toe-curling kisses once the searching was over…Those kisses did more for Edwina’s confidence than any protestations that it was all over with Lady Pomfry.

“Are you feeling ill?” Janelle’s gaze was sharp. “Your face is flushed.”

Lifting the stemmed glass to her lips, Edwina swallowed the red wine. “I’m fine. It was just a bit…rushed.”

“Well, did you find anything? Those frog shoes?”

Edwina shook her head. “No, but today is only the first day and we’ve already canceled two men off our list, Sir Lee and Lord Cunningham. That’s good progress, for sure. And Lord Elliot is not wearing the shoes tonight.”

Ginny’s eyes flitted about the chamber. “I know I need to be patient, but…to know he’s here…pretending to be one of us…”

Edwina grasped Ginny’s hand, soothing. “Soon, Ginny. And we’ve hired two Bow Street Runners to wait for word at the local inn. Discreetly, of course. When the time is right, the knave will be gone faster than a flea can hop.”

“So where’s Prescott now?” Janelle eyed the crowd.

“He wanted to have a quiet word with the boot boy, to see if anyone has noticed a pair of the red-marked shoes we’re looking for.”

“I should have given him that cat hair,” Janelle commented, eyeing Lady Pomfry as she threw her head back and a tinkling laugh filled the chamber. “From the looks of it, we’re going to need it.”

Edwina’s gaze suddenly caught Lady Pomfry’s. The
lady smiled and raised her glass, her eyes glaring with challenge, as if to say, I’m more beautiful, wittier and more fashionable than you’ll ever be.

Pasting on a smile, Edwina lifted her glass and drank. The fine claret suddenly tasted like vinegar.

“You’re not going to let her win,” Ginny muttered.

“It’s not a competition,” Edwina lied.

Turning to look out the French doors, Janelle smiled. “Meow.”

“You’re despicable.”

Sighing, as if greatly put out, Janelle sipped her claret and gazed about the crowded chamber. “So whose room’s next on the list? I think it should be Lord Woodard or Mr. Gingrich. Or possibly that fat fellow, Lord Sloan. He seemed very interested in gossiping about the other guests when we spoke to him this afternoon.”

“Which of us isn’t?” Edwina huffed. “Prescott has a short list with Mr. Todd, Lord Unterberg, Mr. Gingrich and Lord Sloan. After dinner we will search Lord Unterberg’s rooms. We understand that he likes to linger over his port, which should give us plenty of time if we make an early exit. Then Mr. Todd’s.”

“You actually think Mr. Todd could be the one?” Ginny turned to stare at the subject of their discourse, her eyes wide with apprehension. “He looks, well, too gentlemanly for such nastiness.”

Mr. Todd stood speaking with Lord Kendrick, and the two men could not have appeared more different. The agitated Lord Kendrick was stout, with wiry blond hair and generous, bulbous features and skin colored by a constant flush. By contrast, the calm Mr. Todd was dark-haired and lanky with a handsome, moon-pale face. Where Lord Kendrick fluttered about in a persis
tent state of agitation, Mr. Todd stood at ease, his only movement in the dark eyes, which veered frequently to Lady Pomfry’s bosom.

“He is a fine-looking man, I’ll grant you that.” Janelle tapped her chin. “And has a decent enough reputation. Is recently from Nottingham or thereabouts, where he owns quite a handsome property, I’ve heard. He’s known to be good at cards and pays his debts with alacrity.” She sniffed. “Lord Unterberg also seems unlikely. He has a respectable portion from an uncle who’s a landowner in Wales and is generally well regarded. No gambling problem that I could uncover. No scandal between the sheets.”

“You’ve quite the talent for this espionage business,” Edwina marveled. “Your mind is like glue.”

Janelle beamed. “Why, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Edwina.”

“Uh-oh,” Ginny murmured. “Cat on the prowl.”

Lady Pomfry approached Mr. Todd, her hips rolling to great effect. His eyes flew to her chest, and her half grin let him know she knew full well he was staring at her bosom. He said something, and the lady’s laugh rang throughout the chamber, as if she wanted everyone to grasp how entertaining she was.

Edwina turned away. “One of us must try to get a peek at his shoes. Perhaps at dinner. Prescott says we must consider every male guest a possibility…”

“Prescott’s been so astoundingly sweet.” Pressing her hand to her chest, Ginny’s eyes were bright. “And he’s thrown his heart into this matter with such conviction. I am so blessed to have such dear friends.”

Edwina stepped close and gave her small shoulders a hug, inhaling the familiar rosewater scent. “We all are.”

Ginny’s smile was shaky. “Prescott is such an excellent judge of character. We’re so lucky to have him with us.”

“I’ve been thinking that…when all is said and done here…” Edwina’s cheeks heated as she looked down at the rim of her glass. “Perhaps Prescott can assist me and my cousin Henry with our Cambridge development. Calm the muddied waters, so to speak, and help me repair the transaction. It’s not that far to Cambridge from here…” And it would give them more time together without having to say good-bye.

Just the thought of parting from Prescott felt like an iron shroud draped on her shoulders. He did seem fond of her. Mayhap not as infatuated as she was, but possibly fond enough to continue with the affair.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.” Ginny smiled. “I know how disappointed you were with the failed negotiations.”

“Yes, well, I will have to persuade him. He only promised us a short time…”

Gently hugging Edwina’s waist, Ginny teased, “Somehow I don’t believe that it will take much convincing.” Her confidence soothed.

Another tinkling laugh rang in the chamber, along with some sounds of distress.

Edwina turned. Mr. Greene was flurrying about Lady Pomfry in a fit of agitation as he practically ogled her breasts while poor Mrs. Greene’s face was beet red, her bosom heaving with obvious distress and her face crumpled as if she was on the brink of tears.

“What happened?”

Janelle scowled. “Mr. Greene dropped his quizzing glass into Lady Pomfry’s wine glass.”

“Oh dear,” Ginny raised her hand to her mouth. “Poor Mrs. Greene.”

Ever the perfect hostess, Lady Kendrick took the distressed Mrs. Greene by the arm and led her out of the room.

Lady Pomfry, on the other hand, had no notion of being anywhere but at the center of the attention. Her face was rosy, her smile wide and her eyes bright as they scanned the room with a self-satisfied gleam.

“I’ll bet she’s only disappointed Prescott wasn’t here to see it.” Janelle swirled the claret in her glass as she glared at Lady Pomfry. “No doubt she’ll ensure that he hears of it, while she weaves it into the most comically entertaining story of the century. It will be practice for recounting the tale to the rest of society, a thousand times over back in town.”

Edwina shook her head, disgusted. “Mrs. Greene will never live it down.”

“I never thought I’d be the one to say it,” Ginny intoned, “but I think I might hate that woman.”

“Get in queue,” Janelle muttered.

Lady Pomfry suddenly stilled, her bosom lifting, her glance ablaze as she turned to face the threshold.

Prescott stood in the doorway, resplendent in his black-and-white formal attire. His hair was slicked back with pomade, making his face seem sharper, more angular and his lips all the more sensual for the contrast.

Edwina’s heart skipped a beat as she held her breath.

Lady Pomfry glided over to Prescott, a warm smile on her peach-colored lips. Edwina wasn’t near enough to overhear, but she could just imagine what the matron was saying.

Prescott’s eyes fixed on Lady Pomfry, his attention set.

Edwina’s heart sank.

Then Prescott bowed and stepped around the sputtering Lady Pomfry as his gaze traveled the room. His eyes met Edwina’s and he smiled.

Something lightened inside Edwina’s chest and she breathed once more. Smiling shyly at him, she realized that it wasn’t just her cheeks that warmed when he was near. Since knowing him, her body seemed to smolder in a constant heat, then blaze instantly when Prescott touched her. He was the flint, and she the wood, just waiting to be ignited. Oh, dear, she really was head-over-heels infatuated.

“Ladies.” He accepted Janelle’s extended hand and bowed, his swept-back hair glistening dark in the candlelight.

“You are looking very handsome tonight.” Ginny beamed as he bowed in turn to her.

“I am but a pale shadow to the three muses standing before me.” Reaching for Edwina’s white-gloved hand, he raised it to his lips. “Especially, my fiancée, the muse of chaos.”

The slow burn began at Edwina’s fingertips then up her arm to every patch of skin. “Chaos?” Her voice was breathless.

“My mind seems to muddle when you are near, leaving only one thought.”

“What’s that?” Her heart began to dance and her skin flame.

“How long it will be until we are alone again,” he said, his tone a husky burr. He lingered over her hand,
his warm breath caressing her through the silk, a clear indication of what he would do to her once they truly were alone.

With his fingers caressing the underside of her wrist, the blood rushed through her veins so powerfully that she felt light-headed. If he weren’t still holding her hand, she might just melt into the floor.

“That practicing seems to really be working,” Janelle commented with a wry twist of her lips. “You’re getting much better at this, Edwina. Even I’m half-convinced you’re in love with him.”

Edwina blinked. Then her cheeks heated. She removed her hand.

Prescott released her, yet the promise of what was to come flashed in his emerald gaze so powerfully, she felt as if they still touched.

“Prescott, darling.” Lady Pomfry glided up and slipped her white-gloved hand into the crook of his arm. “You’d run off.”

Edwina’s heart sank as she saw Prescott’s gaze drop to the woman’s exposed bosom. Her heart dipped even lower when Prescott didn’t break his arm away from the lady.

He tilted his head. “My lady.”

“My lady? Oh, you’re being so silly, darling. After how close you and I have been you know you can only call me Daphne.”

BOOK: Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage]
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