"I wished to ask you…" She got further that time before faltering, then forced herself to continue. "To ask if you would please refuse him admittal?"

She said the last with her eyes shut, horrified at how the request sounded. It had not seemed a bad suggestion when Eleanore had made it. If you cannot keep him from going to Bollard's the owner can. Mayhap if you ask nicely, Lord Stockton would do that for you, she had said. Of course, Prudence supposed her friend hadn't imagined Prudence being in his arms when she made the request. Stephen certainly didn't appear as if he was reacting well. His arms tightened around her, his face becoming expressionless. She could feel his emotional withdrawal from her like a physical tearing.

"I see. Well, I imagine it could be arranged. It depends."

Prudence swallowed at the unpleasant undertone to his voice. "Depends on what?"

"How much more of this might I get should I do so?"

Her first reaction was a backward jerk of her head, as if he had slapped her. It couldn't have hurt her more had he actually done so. But her second reaction was chagrin. What could she expect him to think? She had certainly done everything else she could to save her family, much of it likely illegal. Unquestionably it was all improper behavior for a well-bred young lady of the ton. And she had also never made any attempt to hide her desperation. She shouldn't be surprised that he had jumped to such a conclusion.

"My allowing you to kiss me has nothing to do with this," she said with quiet dignity. "As a point of fact, I brought a halt to the kiss because I was becoming rather… er… distracted and feared forgetting to make the request at all." She could feel her face burning with embarrassment as she made the admission, and was grateful for the concealing darkness.

Stephen considered her through the gloom, then said, "So you like my kisses? This is not some new scheme? This is not some way to pay me back because your father loses money in my establishment?"

Prudence frowned, trying to find an argument in her mind to prove that she enjoyed Lord Stockton's kisses, then brightened. "Surely you can tell if a woman is enjoying your kiss? Does it not show?"

"Aye. Unfortunately I was rather distracted with my own enjoyment and did not-" His words broke off on a surprised gasp when Prudence suddenly stepped closer, reached up on tiptoe, and pressed her lips against his.

He did nothing at first to make the kiss easier for her, but as she felt the tension in his arms ease, his hands began to move over her back and his lips moved with true passion. Prudence let a little sigh slip out as her mouth opened under his, her toes curling in her slippers as she arched into him, putting all she had into the kiss. Following his lead, she ran her own hands over his back, enjoying the solid feel of him beneath her fingers. She gasped and lifted further up on her toes when his hands slid up over her rib cage to cup her breasts; then he broke away and trailed his lips over her cheek.

"I believe you," he said softly after several heated moments.

"Aye." Prudence kissed his ear eagerly when it came within reach.

"We should stop, else I cannot promise-"

"Nay." Prudence moaned, biting his chin at the very suggestion.

"Nay?"

"Aye."

A chuckle rumbled from his mouth, reverberating against her throat and making her squeeze her legs together in excitement. "Aye or nay?" he asked, sounding both amused and concerned.

"Oh." She opened her eyes reluctantly, then stilled as a shadow moved into the periphery of her vision. It wasn't a very large shadow, really, a darker blotch in the darkness that surrounded them, but it was moving. Dropping, actually, straight for Stephen's unsuspecting head. A spider! Lowering itself on its silken thread! Knowing she was overreacting, but helpless to do otherwise, she jerked in his arms and opened her mouth to warn him, but suddenly the arachnid dropped the last of the way at lightning speed. Prudence instinctively lifted the fan that had been dangling from her wrist all evening and brought it down atop the spider… and on top of Stephen's head.

"What the-" Releasing her at once, Lord Stockton covered the crown of his head and stepped back.

"A spider," Prudence blurted, trailing after him as he moved warily away. "Really, my lord. It dropped out of the marble tree and landed on your head. I was just-" She gestured with her fan, her expression brightening as she spotted the dark blob that had been the spider on the light-colored fan Ellie had given her.

"See! I got it." She thrust the fan out toward him and Stephen stumbled and fell onto a couch to avoid it. "Really, there was a spider on your head."

"Pru"

Prudence let the fan drop and swung around at that concerned call. Ellie was walking along the balcony, rubbing her arms and peering uncertainly out into the darkness of the snow-covered gardens.

"Prudence, are you there? Father said he saw you come out here."

"Damn," she said softly and turned back to Stephen. Seeing the way the man was eyeing her as he got back to his feet, she threw her hands up in disgust. The fan, again dangling from her wrist, swung out, neatly clipping him between the legs. Prudence gasped in horror and started toward him as he bent over with a gasp. "Are you-"

"I am fine!" He held up a hand in self-defense, shuffling back away from her. "Just go. Go."

"But-"

"Pru!"

Shaking her head in frustration, she turned and hurried outside to find Ellie.


"You'd better get a look at this, milord."

Stephen glanced up from the books he was balancing to find Plunkett in the open door of his office. The doorman's face looked even more bulldoggish than usual, wrinkled up in concern as it was. "What is it?"

"There's a bunch of women out front."

Frowning at the vague announcement, Stephen stood and followed the man through the kitchens and out into the gaming room. His expression tightened at the sight of the few patrons seated about the room. Business had dwindled more and more with each of Prudence Prescott's antics. There had been a slight dip in the number of clients the night after the riot she'd caused, and the numbers had cut in half after her poisoning. Now there were no more than a handful of men in the place. The damned woman had cost him quite a bit of money. If she were here right now, he would probably wring her lovely neck. Or kiss her senseless. Strangely, he rather thought he might enjoy the second option more. As infuriating as her antics had been-and painful, he added as an afterthought-he spent more time imagining licentious pursuits with her than punishments. And the little episode in Kindersley's office, before he had taken the fan to the groin, had managed only to inflame his imaginings. The young woman truly intrigued him, despite her tendency to cause havoc wherever she went.

Stephen pushed his thoughts aside when Plunkett stopped in front of him. Glancing up, he saw that they had reached the front entrance. His doorman swung the door open and stepped outside, holding it for him to follow. Stephen did and gawked at the scene before him.

"What the hell?" he asked, gaping at a horde of picketing women.

"Hmram," Plunkett rumbled. "They've been here for the last hour, and it's affecting business. A lot of the women out there are wives or daughters of regulars. It's scaring the men off. Carriages pull up, then pull away just as quickly when the women move toward them."

Stephen didn't really need an explanation. As he watched, a carriage with the Justerly crest on it drew to a halt before the building. He saw the duke peer out the window at the picketing women; then the protesters started toward the carriage shouting, "Save your soul! No more gambling!" Justerly pulled abruptly back and let the carriage curtains drop closed; then Stephen heard his shout to his driver to get them out of there. The coach lurched away and the women cheered at their success in saving one more soul.

"Damn!" Leaving Plunkett at the door, Stephen stormed out into the mob.


"You truly are out to ruin me, aren't you?"

Prudence turned slowly at those words, not at all surprised by Stephen's appearance. She had actually expected him earlier, and thought it very forbearing of him to wait so long to kick up a fuss. "Good evening, my lord. How are you this evening?"

"How am I?" He glared. "I am suffering a financial setback in the person of one Lady Prudence Prescott. No one dares come near this place. I have a total of ten guests in the club right now-all of them patrons who were inside before you and your league of sour-faced dowagers arrived. And they are all terrified to leave lest one of their wives or mothers is out here picketing."

"Is my father one of the men inside?" Prudence asked with a frown.

"Nay."

She smiled in relief at his snapped response. "Then I suppose I can say that your plan is working. Thank you."

"My plan?"

Prudence nodded with a smile. "The other night at Ellie's ball you said that if I had such strong feelings about gambling, I should picket and get the gambling establishments closed down."

"I meant that you should picket the House of Commons and get the laws changed and-" He regained control of himself with some effort, then said very calmly, "All you have accomplished, my lady, is another step toward ruining my business. Which will not aid your cause. Your father is gambling tonight, I guarantee it. Just not in Ballard's."

Prudence looked startled at that suggestion. "Faugh! Of course he isn't. He had to give up his membership to the clubs. He favors your establishment."

"You do not have to belong to the private clubs to get in; you merely need a friend to take you with him as a guest. Your father spends the first part of most nights at White's. He-"