Dangerous

Chapter Three

What do I know of Angelstone?" Hester, Lady Pem­broke, paused with her teacup halfway to her mouth and looked at Prudence. "Only that he is not on speaking terms with his relatives and that he has an exceedingly dangerous reputation. All of which makes him extremely interesting, of course. Why do you ask?"

Prudence smiled. Hester was an awesomely built woman of inde­terminate years, whose size was exceeded only by her generous heart and her lively interest in the affairs of the ton. As she had once ex­plained to Prudence, she had long been deprived of her natural place in the social world due to the mysterious disappearance of the famed Pembroke jewels a generation earlier. One could not move in the best circles of the ton without money, regardless of one's pedigree.

Now that she had money, Hester was happily indulging herself in all the pleasures of society that had previously been denied to her. She had concluded that she had an innate sense of style and when the Morning Post reported that gowns of lavender and violet hues were the most fashionable this season, Hester had redone her wardrobe ac­cordingly. Today her stout frame was encased in a heavily flounced and ruffled lavender gown trimmed with pink lace.

Hester was an old friend of Prudence's family. She and her late husband had lived in an ancient, tumbledown manor house that was located not far from the Merryweather farm. The Pembroke ghost, which was almost as famous as the missing Pembroke jewels, had provided Prudence with her first real experience in the investigation of spectral phenomena.

"I'm asking about Angelstone because Trevor has taken this ridic­ulous notion into his head that I must be very careful around the earl," Prudence explained. "He seems to think the man is out to se­duce me. Utter nonsense, of course, but Trevor is very agitated about it."

"As well he should be, I suppose. The earl is, as I said, most interesting, but there is no indication that he is casting about for a wife as yet. Therefore, we must assume that when he pays attention to a young lady, he has other things on his mind."

"He might simply wish to converse with her about matters of mu­tual intellectual interest," Prudence suggested hopefully.

"Not likely." Hester put down her teacup, her expression thought­ful. "One of the reasons Angelstone is so completely fascinating is precisely because he flouts Society's rules. Treats the Social World with contempt, for the most part, just as it once treated his parents."

"But you said he's invited to all the best balls and soirees."

"Certainly. There is nothing Society thrives on more than being treated with contempt by a titled gentleman who has money to burn and more than a hint of danger about him."

"I see. How very odd."

"Not at all. Only recall how Society has doted on Byron. Angel­stone is very shrewd. He knows how to stay just this side of the bound­ary of what is acceptable. And since he assumed the title, every host­ess in Town vies to lure him with an invitation to one of her affairs."

"He is certainly an interesting man," Prudence said.

"Yes, indeed." Hester turned thoughtful. "And one of the most interesting things about him is why he has not used the power he acquired along with the title to crush his relatives."

Prudence frowned. "Crush them?"

"It would be easy enough for him to do. He controls a fortune, after all. And he has great social power. Everyone assumes the reason he has not gotten his relatives banished from Society is simply that it amuses him to play cat-and-mouse games with them."

"I cannot believe he would deliberately hurt his family. I rather liked him," Prudence ventured.

"I'm sure he can be charming when he chooses. And he was no doubt more than charming when he asked you to dance with him. The thing is, Prue, Trevor is absolutely correct to be concerned about any connection between you and the earl. Angelstone is said to amuse himself in some rather odd ways. He might find it entertaining to ruin this Season's most interesting Original."

Prudence bit her lip. "Come, now, madam. I am five-and-twenty, after all. A bit past the age of ruination."

"Not yet, my dear. Not yet. And if there is anything Society loves more than a Fallen Angel, it's a good, juicy scandal. You are the talk of the Town at the moment. Every eye is upon you. If your name is linked to Angelstone's, there will be no end to the gossip."

Prudence took another sip of tea. "The only reason I'm the center of attention is because of that business with the Pembroke family treasure."

"Of course, my dear." Hester beamed with delight and gave an affectionate pat to the diamond pendant around her throat. It had been part of the cache Prudence had discovered. "Everyone knows you found my jewels when you investigated the Pembroke ghost. The ton is quite enthralled with the tale."

Prudence wrinkled her nose. "Too bad I did not locate the Pem­broke family ghost while I was at it. Encountering evidence of genuine spectral phenomena would have been far more interesting than dis­covering a bunch of jewels."

"But not nearly as useful, Prue. Not nearly as useful. You have changed my life, my dear, and I do not know how I can ever repay you."

"You know very well you have more than repaid me by bringing Trevor and me to London for a visit. Since the death of our parents, Trevor has been extremely restless in the country. Here in Town he is gaining experience in the ways of the world and he is having a wonder­ful time."

"It was the very least I could do to thank you," Hester said. "I know how concerned you were about Trevor. But I would love to do so much more for you, my dear." She frowned at Prudence's demure, unfashionable muslin frock. "I do wish you would allow me to buy you a new wardrobe."

"Now, Hester, we have been through this before. I am not about to allow you to buy me a trunkful of gowns that I will never be able to wear when I go home to Dorset. It would be a complete waste."

Hester sighed. "The thing is, Prue, now that you have the attention of the ton, it seems only proper that you should dress in the first stare of fashion. I cannot comprehend why you do not take more of an interest in your clothes. You would look lovely in lavender."

The door of the drawing room opened before Prudence could think of a suitable reply.

"Good afternoon, ladies."

Prudence looked up as Trevor made his entrance into the room with the swaggering, elaborately casual style he had painstakingly learned from his newfound friends.

Everything Trevor did lately was done with that peculiar style. It was getting a bit wearing, Prudence decided.

Her younger brother had turned overnight into a young blood of the ton. From the top of his intricately tied cravat to his padded coat, striped waistcoat, and snug pantaloons, Trevor was the very glass of fashion. He had taken to carrying a cane and had an enormous num­ber of decorative seals dangling from the fob of his watch.

As irritating as some of his new mannerisms could be on occasion, Prudence was nevertheless very fond of Trevor. She told herself he was merely a high-spirited young man who would do very well once he had settled down a bit and matured.

Her younger brother was also a fine-looking young man, she thought proudly. He had no real need of the padding in his jacket. His hair was the same honey-colored shade as hers was. Trevor had inher­ited their mother's excellent blue eyes, rather than their father's green ones. He had no need of spectacles, although he had experimented briefly with a monocle last week. He had dropped the affectation when he discovered it was too difficult to keep the glass in place.

Prudence worried sometimes that Trevor would not want to return to the quiet life of a country squire after having been introduced to the pleasures of Town.

And, if she were honest with herself, Prudence thought, she had to admit that Trevor was not the only one who might be a bit bored in the country now. She had found life in London far more exciting and more intriguing than she had expected.

It was not the endless round of balls and soirees that fascinated her, but the endless array of bookshops, museums, and the like. Here in Town she could research spectral phenomena far more thoroughly than she could at home. She also stood a much greater chance of encountering people who would need her special investigation skills.

"Hello, Trevor," Prudence said.

"Good afternoon." Hester picked up the pot. "Will you have tea?"

"With pleasure." Trevor came forward eagerly. "Wait until I tell you my news."

"We are all ears, dear," Hester murmured.

"You are not going to believe this." Trevor preened as he accepted the cup and saucer. "But I, Trevor Merryweather, wrung an apology out of the devil himself, by God."

Hester blinked. "Did you really?"

"I certainly did." Trevor turned proudly to Prudence. "Angelstone won't bother you again, Prue. You may depend upon it. Made the bastard apologize for insulting you. Whole world knows it, too. He had one of his seconds convey his apologies to me right there in my club where all my friends could hear him."

Prudence glared at Trevor as he sprawled in one of Hester's deli­cate satinwood chairs. "For the last time, Trevor, I was not insulted by Angelstone. He behaved himself quite properly. There was absolutely nothing about his manner on the dance floor that gave offense."

"Man's got a reputation." Trevor helped himself to a small cake off the tea tray. "You wouldn't know about it, of course. Not the sort of thing a lady should know about. Point is, he certainly ain't the type you want hanging about. Everybody agrees he don't have anything respectable in mind when he starts paying attention to a female."

"For goodness' sake," Prue said. "Name me one female Angel­stone is said to have ruined. Just one."

Trevor scowled. "Good lord. Surely you don't expect me to discuss that sort of gossip with you."

"Yes, I do. If I'm being warned off, I want to know precisely why. Who was his last innocent victim?"

"If he ain't had a victim this Season it's only because respectable families are keeping their daughters out of his reach."

"I want a name," Prue said evenly.

Trevor glowered at her and then appealed to Hester for support. "I've a hunch you're more conversant with that sort of tale than I am. Give Prue a name. Perhaps it will convince her she's playing with fire when she accepts a dance with Angelstone."

"A name?" Hester tapped her chin with her forefinger and studied the ceiling for a moment. "Well, his name was linked with that of Lady Charlesworthy at one time, I understand, but that was last Season and the lady is a rather notorious widow in her own right. I'm not sure she counts as an innocent victim, if you see what I mean. In any event, I'm told that affair ended some time ago."

"What happened?" Prudence asked, deeply curious in spite of her­self.

"The on dit is that Lady Charlesworthy made the mistake of trying to incite the Fallen Angel's jealousy," Hester said. "She gave her fa­vors to another. There are rumors that a duel was fought."

Trevor frowned. "A duel?"

Hester nodded. "Apparently Angelstone wounded his opponent, but did not kill him. They say the Fallen Angel left the dueling field and went straight to the lady's house. The story has it he went upstairs to her bedchamber and awakened her personally just to tell her that their affair was over."

Prudence shivered. She could well imagine that Angelstone would have been made coldly furious by Lady Charlesworthy's tactics. "You're quite right, Hester. Lady Charlesworthy does not count as an innocent victim. It was very unkind of her to try to make Angelstone jealous."

"Unkind?" Hester gave Prudence an amused glance. "I expect the poor lady was desperate for some indications of warmth from Angel­stone. They say he is made of ice."

"Nonsense. Back to the matter of a name. We're looking for genu­ine, innocent victims here," Prudence said. "Can you think of even one young woman who was ruined by Angelstone?"

Hester raised a brow. "Actually, no. I can't. Now that I think of it, from what I hear, Angelstone tends to pass over the fledglings in favor of the more worldly sort of female."

Trevor was irate. "The man's got a reputation, I tell you. Everyone knows it."

"Not for ruining innocent young women, apparently," Prudence said. "So you will in future kindly refrain from interfering in my social affairs, do you comprehend me, Trevor?"

"Now, see here," Trevor shot back, "I'm your brother. Got a re­sponsibility toward you."

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Don't be so certain of that. Truth is, you don't know that much about men, Prue. You ain't a good judge of ‘em. Keep in mind what happened three years ago."

Hester clapped loudly for attention. "Enough, my dears. If you wish to wrangle, you may do so someplace other than my drawing room. We have other business to attend to."

"What other business?" Prudence asked, more than willing to change the topic.

Hester chuckled. "Why, the little matter of deciding which invita­tions we shall be accepting this week. Prudence, my dear, you are very much in demand. We shall have a busy time of it, I fear." Hester reached for a silver tray littered with cards. "Now, then, let's go through this little lot. Can you believe that all of these arrived just today? I don't think we can possibly manage to squeeze in every­thing."

"You make the selections," Prudence said. "I don't really care which parties we attend. They all seem the same, somehow. The rooms are too crowded and too hot and there is so much noise it is difficult to converse."

"One must make sacrifices when one is moving in Society." Hester picked up a card. "Ah, yes, we shall most definitely put in an appear­ance at the Thornbridges' ball. The new Lady Thornbridge is causing talk."

Trevor swallowed his cake, looking interested. "How's that?"

Hester gave him a knowing smile. "She's quite a bit younger than her lord. And very beautiful. Word has it Thornbridge is mad with jealousy these days. Should be interesting to see if there will be a scene or two at their ball."

"It sounds rather unpleasant to me," Prudence observed. "Who wants to see a jealous husband make a fool of himself over a young wife?"

"Most of the ton, my dear," Prudence assured her cheerfully.

The door of the drawing room opened again at that juncture. Hes­ter's butler, chosen for his imposing air, appeared in the opening.

"A Mrs. Leacock to see you, madam."

"How lovely," Hester said. "Show her in, Crandall."

A birdlike woman with silvery white hair, dressed in an expensive mourning gown of black crepe, was ushered into the drawing room.

"How kind of you to call, Lydia," Hester said. "Do sit down. You know my dear friends Trevor and Prudence Merryweather?"

"Yes, of course." Mrs. Leacock's bright little eyes darted nervously from Hester to Prudence. "Actually, this is not precisely a social call, Hester. I have come to consult with Miss Merryweather."

"Have you, indeed?" Hester picked up the teapot. "Don't tell us you have a ghost you want investigated?"

Mrs. Leacock alighted on a silk-cushioned chair. "I am not certain. But something rather odd has been happening of late in the west wing of my house. The incidents have begun to affect my nerves and I fear for the consequences. My doctor has warned me that I have a weak heart."

Prudence was immediately intrigued. "This sounds far more inter­esting than choosing which parties we shall attend. Do tell me every­thing about these incidents, Mrs. Leacock. I would be happy to inves­tigate."

"I should be forever grateful, Miss Merryweather." Mrs. Leacock's cup rattled in its saucer. "I fear I really am getting rather desperate. I have never before believed in ghosts, but lately I have begun to won­der."

"Let me get my notebook," Prudence said eagerly.

Mrs. Leacock left an hour later, looking vastly relieved at having engaged a professional investigator. Prudence was delighted with the prospect of a puzzle to solve.

"If you will excuse me, Hester, I am going straight upstairs to read a new book I purchased this morning. It is all about the usefulness of electricity machines in detecting vaporous substances in the atmo­sphere. Perhaps I shall learn a technique I can apply to my new case."

Trevor looked briefly interested. "My friend Matthew Hornsby has an electricity machine. Made it himself."

"Does he?" Prudence asked with great interest.

"Yes, but I doubt that you'll need it." Trevor made a face. "Your new case is composed of nothing more than the imaginings of a ner­vous old woman."

"I'm not at all certain of that." Prudence went to the door. "It sounds to me as though there have indeed been some disturbances that require an explanation."

Hester looked up. "Are you saying you believe Lydia might actu­ally have a ghost in her house?"

"I shall let you know my thoughts on the matter after I have had an opportunity to study my notes. In the meantime I want both of you to give me your word that you will say nothing of this to anyone."

"I shall not say a thing, my dear," Hester assured her.

Trevor grimaced as he got to his feet. "You needn't worry about me spreading the news of your case. Damned embarrassing having a sister who investigates spectral phenomena. Wish you'd give it up, Prue."

"I have no intention of giving up my hobby." Prudence went out into the hall.

"Prue, wait, I would like a word with you." Trevor hurried after her.

Prudence waited for him on the bottom step of the staircase. "Don't try to talk me out of this, Trevor. I am very bored with parties and soirees. If we are to stay in London until the end of the Season, as you wish to do, I must find something interesting to occupy my time."

"No, no, it's not about your silly investigation." Trevor glanced around to make certain none of the servants were within hearing dis­tance. Then he leaned forward.

"Since you somehow learned of the duel I had scheduled with Angelstone, I don't mind telling you a rather interesting fact I have learned about the infamous Fallen Angel."

"What's that?" Prudence asked warily.

"He may have a ferocious reputation, but the man's a bloody damn coward."

Prudence was shocked. "Trevor, how can you say that?"

"Perfectly true." Trevor nodded once in satisfaction. "Man's an out-and-out coward."

"That's not true."

"He's the one who called off the duel, you know. Apologized rather than meet me on the field of honor this morning."

Prudence was infuriated by Trevor's interpretation of events. "If you want my opinion, Angelstone showed the sort of mature, respon­sible behavior one would expect in a well-bred gentleman. If you truly believe he's a coward, then you are a fool, Trevor."

"Now, Prue, calm yourself. Truth is, the man's a coward and that's a fact. By this evening, the entire social world will know it."

"Rubbish. Utter rubbish." Prudence picked up her skirts and dashed up the carpeted stairs.

Angelstone had kept his word. He had spared Trevor's life. Pru­dence prayed that the Fallen Angel would not put too high a price on the damage she had apparently done to his formidable reputation.