Prudence rolled her eyes. “There are times when I am quite confused and somewhat irritated by London Society.”
“You are not alone.”
She chuckled. “And the plans for tomorrow’s er…event? Miss Ringwood has accepted?”
Ivy waved a note. “I heard from Lady Maud this morning that all went well at the Wednesday Club last night. And here’s the confirmation. A polite acceptance of Friday’s private visit to view the garden from her and a guest, who is—for the moment—unnamed.”
Prudence nodded. “That is excellent.”
“You are reconciled to your role in all this?” Ivy asked.
“Not really,” answered Prudence. “But I don’t want to get in the way of Uncle Colly’s plans to finish this nasty business, and I do understand that this Barrett person is dangerous.” She looked at Ivy. “I’ll stay out of the way as much as possible and keep Miss Ringwood busy when she comes inside. I’m young, but I’m not an idiot.”
“We know, love,” approved Ivy. “And I, for one, am very grateful.”
“Be that as it may, the main thing I’m exceedingly grateful for is Uncle Colly’s health. When I visited him today, he was up and about and looking hale and hearty. That is a massive relief, I can tell you.”
Ivy nodded. “Indeed it is. Although it’s not been the easiest chore keeping him to his rooms. But the less the world knows of his condition, the better things will turn out tomorrow. We need to keep Barrett guessing as to his strength and recuperation. He’ll be more likely to fall into the trap of over-confidence if he thinks Colly is a weak invalid.”
“We’re also assuming that he is going to be Miss Ringwood’s guest…”
“Yes,” Ivy’s frown reflected her worry. “Yes, and that’s a big assumption. But we’re betting on the apparent obsession this man has developed for your uncle. If we lose the bet, well…no harm done. We’ll just have to come up with another way to handle the matter.”
Prudence stood and walked to the window, fidgeting a little. “Some men arrived this morning.”
“I saw them.”
“Woodleigh…I heard him announce them as the gentlemen from Whitehall…”
“Yes,” said Ivy quietly. “Colly knew they would be coming to speak with him.”
“Ah.”
“I shouldn’t say anything…”
“Then by all means don’t.”
Ivy beckoned Prudence. “Come closer.”
“All right.” Prudence returned to the table and sat.
“These men from Whitehall,” began Ivy, her voice low. “I’m not too clear as to the nature of their work, but I do know that they represent someone quite highly placed in our government.”
“Oh.” Prudence’s eyebrows rose.
“At first, I worried that your uncle was still at risk for a charge of treason, but he’s reassured me that that is not the case.”
“Well that’s a relief.”
“Indeed it is.”
“So why were they here?”
“They have, apparently, a developing interest in Barrett that is connected with what’s going on in and around Manchester. He may either have been actively inciting violence, or encouraging others to do so. Whatever the case, he has knowledge of such things that would be useful to Whitehall.”
“And Uncle Colly told them about what happened to him?”
“He must have done. He is being rather tight-lipped about the whole matter as it pertains to these gentlemen.” She shrugged. “But it is, of course, quite straightforward. At least that’s what I’m told. Along with the usual nothing to concern myself about. Which is quite silly, when you think about it, since when anyone tells you that, you always concern yourself about it.” She shook her head. “Never mind.”
“I trust you both, but I will allow that I feel—not concerned exactly, but more unsettled.” Prudence’s statement was followed by a sigh.
Ivy glanced up with a smile. “That’s permissible.”
They worked in silence for a while, Prudence listing names, Ivy opening envelopes and passing the cards across the table.
Her mind wandered to the night before, when she’d shared those precious moments late in the evening.
It was becoming a habit for Colly to tap on her door before retiring. Most often she’d already be in her robe, and they’d sit for a while and talk.
Sometimes he’d hold her for a little while, as he had done on that one eventful night, and these times were the best. She’d lean against him, her head on his chest, listening to the reassuring sound of his heart beating beneath her ear.
But he hadn’t touched her intimately since that night.
She wanted to ask him to stay, to be with her in all the ways there were. She knew the desire was there, but her fears kept her silent. Perhaps this was how it would be between them…a friendship, an ability to talk to each other about anything and everything, but nothing of any depth on a physical level.
Or perhaps he simply wasn’t interested in her that way, in spite of all his comments to the contrary on their belated wedding night. Had she disappointed him? She didn’t think so, but then again she had no experience with men and their likes and dislikes in bed.
Could she live with a man who would use her when he felt like it? Or decided it was time to breed an heir? How would she manage the rest of the time, when her body ached for his?
His injuries had taken him away from her physically, she knew, and that was as it should be. He needed to heal. But now, now that he was back on his feet…well, shouldn’t he be returning to his husbandly duties?
She sighed, knowing this was a fruitless and frustrating mental discussion with herself.
“Right then. Finished.”
Prudence’s voice recalled Ivy to the present and the last envelope. “Excellent work.” She passed the card across. “Here’s the final response.”
Prudence
