The Jilter by Archer Kate

Author:Archer, Kate
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2022-10-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Lord Ryland had come up behind Prudence.

Mr. Vance nodded. “Ryland. I should have known; you keep the best company for yourself.”

“It is my society meeting, after all.” Lord Ryland motioned for a footman and one came running. “Peter, show Mr. Vance to his table.”

Mr. Vance gave Prudence a wry smile. “Until we meet again, Lady Prudence.” He bowed and went off laughing with the footman.

Whatever he was, he was a rather jovial fellow. Lord Ryland, though. Why must they be at his table? Why must he be so forceful about it?

“I should have realized, Lord Ryland,” Lady Featherstone said, “that you would wish us by your side.”

The lady seemed delighted with the idea, though Prudence was certainly less so.

Lord Ryland nodded and collared another footman. “Benjamin, escort Lady Featherstone and Lady Prudence to table number one.”

They were whisked off by the footman and taken to a table situated at the head of the room. Lady Featherstone sat down and shook out her skirts with an obvious sense of relish.

“Mr. Vance seems genial,” Prudence said. She was eager to have a discussion on anything other than murder.

“Genial? Oh yes, he does always have that going for him. He’s invariably jolly. He’s to be a baron, too. Sadly, his grandfather was in trade.”

“Is that significant?” Prudence asked. She did not see how it would signify—Lord Merkell of her own neighborhood had arrived at a title through his father’s service to the crown and nobody thought anything about it. Her father said a gentleman must be judged on his behavior.

“The duchess finds it exceedingly significant,” Lady Featherstone said.

Before Prudence could inquire more about it, they were interrupted.

A man in his early thirties, of average looks and height but neatly and well-turned out, bowed. In a rather soft voice he said, “Good evening, Lady Featherstone.”

“Mr. Clamarin! There you are. Do allow me to present Lady Prudence Landry. She stays with me this season.”

Mr. Clamarin bowed. “Lady Prudence.”

“Her father, the earl, has come to us too, though he does not attend the evening.”

“The earl,” Mr. Clamarin said.

It seemed to Prudence that there had been a flicker of surprise that crossed Mr. Clamarin’s features, though she could not account for it.

“Mr. Clamarin,” she said.

He sat down and they exchanged pleasantries. Prudence found herself liking him. He was rather soft-spoken and gentle in his opinions. He was not forceful like Lord Ryland or laughing and jolly like Mr. Vance. His temperament reminded her a little of her father.

As Lady Featherstone was distracted by the line of well-wishers that had formed to pay homage regarding her victory of last season, Mr. Clamarin said, “I wonder if you find a real interest in the society or whether you have only been carried along by Lady Featherstone’s enthusiasm.”

Prudence instinctively felt she could be truthful with Mr. Clamarin. “I am afraid I do not find great interest in it. I’d really rather not think about a murder.”

Mr. Clamarin nodded thoughtfully. “I would suggest thinking of something else—recite a poem in your mind or something like it.

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