and she was thrown into confusion so that she saw no more of the second act than she had of the first.
Chapter 6
'I came to apologise for the other night,' Lord Mottesford said abruptly, when Prudence, incapable of finding an excuse to refuse to walk with him in the corridor outside the boxes, had meekly accompanied him. 'Will you forgive me, and let us go on as before?'
Prudence glanced up at him through her lashes. He was looking at her so warmly that she had to remind herself forcefully it was all pretence, he cared only for the wager, and so had to resume his pursuit of her.
'I – it was – I don't know,' she whispered, heartily despising herself for such weak vacillation, but totally incapable of responding as she knew she ought, with anger and contempt of his tactics.
'My only excuse is that you are so enchanting,' he said in a low, caressing voice. 'But if you prefer it, I will engage not to mention that, not even to pay you normal compliments until you give me leave. Will you drive with me in the morning so that I can demonstrate the firmness of my resolution?'
She could not refuse. Despite her knowledge of his perfidy Prudence suddenly realised how empty the last few days had been without his company. Whatever the danger to her own contentment she wanted to be with him, to talk and laugh in the way that had become so natural between them.
'Very well, my lord,' she said quietly, and after a brief word of thanks he began to talk of the opera, permitting her time to recover from the trembling which again attacked her before he returned with her to the Fromes' box.
That night she found it difficult to sleep. It was foolish of her to encourage him when she knew the truth, she told herself firmly, and replied that it would soon be over, for when he lost the wager he would have no need to seek out her company. She would have only a few more chances to be with him, and surely making the most of them would not hurt any more than the knowledge of how he was treating her hurt at the moment.
Did she want him to win the wager, her uncomfortable inner voice demanded, and she realised with horror that if she continued to behave as she was doing, he stood to do just that.
With that in mind she was cool and distant when he called for her, although she had not been able to deny herself the pleasure of wearing a smart new gown of rose pink muslin, with a matching hat that framed her face in a delightfully saucy manner. He did not refer to Vauxhall, or say a word which could possibly offend, but as they parted he looked deep into her eyes and said that he much looked forward to seeing her that evening at Lady Carstaires' ball.
Lady Mottesford and Emma were emerging from their house as Prudence went in, and she heard Lady Mottesford hailing Lord Mottesford loudly.
'My dear Richard, how delightful to see you!' she called, but as Tanner was waiting to close the door Prudence heard no more.
'I am rather surprised Lady Mottesford is on such familiar terms with him,' she said a few minutes later to Netta, whom she discovered waiting for her in her bedroom.
'It's just her,' Netta said with a shrug. 'Look how she insists on calling my mother Lady Lavinia instead of Lady Frome. She is trying to demonstrate she is on familiar terms with people when she isn't. It's all pretence.'
Prudence was unconvinced. 'I cannot imagine who cares,' she said pettishly. 'Why are you not in the schoolroom?'
'Miss Francis has taken the boys out to some ghastly museum. I said I would help you make your Roman toga,' she explained, indicating the unfolded garment which reposed on Prudence's bed beside her. 'That's far more useful plain sewing than hemming sheets!'
'You have done a great deal, I can see!' Prudence said with an attempt at a laugh.
'Well, that was only an excuse. Biddy says the servants next door have heard that Charlotte is to be betrothed soon. Did you know?'
'Is it definite? She told me the dreadful Hubert had offered for
Chapter 6
'I came to apologise for the other night,' Lord Mottesford said abruptly, when Prudence, incapable of finding an excuse to refuse to walk with him in the corridor outside the boxes, had meekly accompanied him. 'Will you forgive me, and let us go on as before?'
Prudence glanced up at him through her lashes. He was looking at her so warmly that she had to remind herself forcefully it was all pretence, he cared only for the wager, and so had to resume his pursuit of her.
'I – it was – I don't know,' she whispered, heartily despising herself for such weak vacillation, but totally incapable of responding as she knew she ought, with anger and contempt of his tactics.
'My only excuse is that you are so enchanting,' he said in a low, caressing voice. 'But if you prefer it, I will engage not to mention that, not even to pay you normal compliments until you give me leave. Will you drive with me in the morning so that I can demonstrate the firmness of my resolution?'
She could not refuse. Despite her knowledge of his perfidy Prudence suddenly realised how empty the last few days had been without his company. Whatever the danger to her own contentment she wanted to be with him, to talk and laugh in the way that had become so natural between them.
'Very well, my lord,' she said quietly, and after a brief word of thanks he began to talk of the opera, permitting her time to recover from the trembling which again attacked her before he returned with her to the Fromes' box.
That night she found it difficult to sleep. It was foolish of her to encourage him when she knew the truth, she told herself firmly, and replied that it would soon be over, for when he lost the wager he would have no need to seek out her company. She would have only a few more chances to be with him, and surely making the most of them would not hurt any more than the knowledge of how he was treating her hurt at the moment.
Did she want him to win the wager, her uncomfortable inner voice demanded, and she realised with horror that if she continued to behave as she was doing, he stood to do just that.
With that in mind she was cool and distant when he called for her, although she had not been able to deny herself the pleasure of wearing a smart new gown of rose pink muslin, with a matching hat that framed her face in a delightfully saucy manner. He did not refer to Vauxhall, or say a word which could possibly offend, but as they parted he looked deep into her eyes and said that he much looked forward to seeing her that evening at Lady Carstaires' ball.
Lady Mottesford and Emma were emerging from their house as Prudence went in, and she heard Lady Mottesford hailing Lord Mottesford loudly.
'My dear Richard, how delightful to see you!' she called, but as Tanner was waiting to close the door Prudence heard no more.
'I am rather surprised Lady Mottesford is on such familiar terms with him,' she said a few minutes later to Netta, whom she discovered waiting for her in her bedroom.
'It's just her,' Netta said with a shrug. 'Look how she insists on calling my mother Lady Lavinia instead of Lady Frome. She is trying to demonstrate she is on familiar terms with people when she isn't. It's all pretence.'
Prudence was unconvinced. 'I cannot imagine who cares,' she said pettishly. 'Why are you not in the schoolroom?'
'Miss Francis has taken the boys out to some ghastly museum. I said I would help you make your Roman toga,' she explained, indicating the unfolded garment which reposed on Prudence's bed beside her. 'That's far more useful plain sewing than hemming sheets!'
'You have done a great deal, I can see!' Prudence said with an attempt at a laugh.
'Well, that was only an excuse. Biddy says the servants next door have heard that Charlotte is to be betrothed soon. Did you know?'
'Is it definite? She told me the dreadful Hubert had offered for
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