Lisa Kleypas - Wish List

"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-"

"You are lying. I followed him here that first night, and both times I have been inside Ballard's since, he was-"

"Both times you were inside Ballard's it was late evening," he pointed out firmly.

Prudence frowned. What Stephen was saying was true enough. She had gone late deliberately. When she had first gone disguised as a man it had taken her a good portion of the night to tuck and pin the back of her father's breeches. Even with Ellie's help it had been quite late when she had finally set out. Then, the night she had gone disguised as a serving wench, she had gone late to avoid the kitchen staff, thinking it might be less risky. If what he said was true, and her father did not only gamble here, then she was wasting her time. Wasn't she?

"Ah, well, that is of no consequence. The important thing here is that my father, like the rest of your patrons, will not show up here tonight. My picketing is still a success."

Stephen glared at her in frustration, then snatched her hand and began dragging her along the sidewalk toward his carriage.

"What are you doing? Unhand me, my lord." She started to bring her sign down on his head, but he caught it with his free hand and tugged it from her, tossing it aside with disgust.

"Must you always carry something to brain men?"

"I do not carry things about with the intention of braining men," Prudence answered with affront.

"Oh? What about that umbrella you broke over Plunkett's head?"

"It was raining earlier in the evening. I brought the umbrella in case it started up again."

"Uh-huh." He sounded doubtful. "And the cane you clobbered Mershone with when you were disguised as a man?"

"Mershone?" Prudence echoed with confusion, then asked, "Was he that hawk-faced fellow?"

"Aye."

"What an awful man. He was mistreating one of your servants and deserved the koshing he got. But I only had that cane as part of my disguise; I thought it was most effective."

"Most effective," she heard him mutter. Prudence made a face at the back of his head.

"You batted me over the head with your fan at the Kindersleys' ball."

"I told you I was sorry about that. There was a rather large spider on your head and-"

"You were just about to beat on me with that sign you're carrying!"

Having no defense for that accusation, Prudence merely sighed and settled on the cushioned seat, then stiffened when she realized that while distracting her with his accusations, he had managed to get her into his carriage. She lunged for the door.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Stephen grasped her about the waist and tugged her onto his lap, holding her there firmly with one arm as he banged on the carriage wall with the other. The carriage was off at once and Prudence grabbed frantically at his arm to maintain her balance.

"You can release me now," she said once the carriage had settled into a steady trot.

"But I rather like holding you."

Prudence felt her insides melt at that husky announcement and allowed herself the luxury of briefly enjoying his embrace. When she felt his breath on her neck, little tingles of anticipation raced through her; then she let out a breathy sigh and turned in to the caress as his lips claimed the sensitive skin there. However, when his hands closed over her breasts through her gown and the warmth inside her started turning to red-hot heat, she forced herself to struggle out of his arms to the safety of the opposite seat.

Stephen let her go. He was smiling at her when she finally glanced across at him.

"I thought you liked my kisses?"

Prudence flushed. "Aye. Well, it is not proper to-"

"And you are so proper," he gently teased.

Prudence glanced away, trying not to squirm with embarrassment, and shrugged. "I may not always be proper, my lord, but I do have some sense. And once I was away from your… influence, I realized that I really did not wish to become involved with someone who is helping my father, and countless others, destroy their families by gambling. Especially a man who should know better. Your own father should have made you sympathetic to this plight!"

Stephen was silent for a moment, the smile gone from his face. She expected him to be angry and strike out at her verbally about her own shortcomings, but was surprised by his quiet reply. "I can understand that sentiment, my lady. I did not feel much differently about the gaming hells my father attended or their owners. I have realized since that the owners are not the ones to blame. Which I am about to prove to you."

Prudence turned her head and peered silently out the window.

"If he were not gambling at Ballard's, it would be somewhere else," Stephen said quietly. "I run an honest establishment and limit how much men are allowed to lose. Should they start to dig too deep, I cut them off and send them home."

Prudence turned back to face him. "Is that supposed to make it all right that you help ruin them-the fact that if it was not you taking their money, it would be someone else?"

Irritation flashed across his face. "That is not what I meant."

"What did you mean then?"