Lisa Kleypas - Wish List

He opened his mouth to answer, then paused to glance out the window as the carriage slowed. "We are here. Come. You will see what I am trying to say."

Opening the carriage door, he stepped down and turned to help her out. Prudence ignored the hand he proffered and glanced at the building they had stopped before. As she stepped down from the carriage, she saw that he had brought her to White's.

"After our discussion at the Kindersleys' ball, I looked into your father's gambling." Stephen urged her up to the window to the side of the door. There was a table there with men seated around it. Prudence knew it was considered the best seat in the house, where one could be seen on display. Her father was not one of the men at the table, she saw with relief.

"As I told you, I do not allow my patrons to play too deep. For him to have lost the large amounts of money you are suggesting, I knew he must be gambling elsewhere. I looked into the matter. He usually comes here first. Then he goes to one or two of the other private clubs, depending on his mood. Then he goes to Ballard's, where he plays cards until well after midnight. At that point, he heads to some of the lesser establishments. He does not appear to gamble large amounts at any of his stops, but when added together, perhaps…" He shrugged, then suddenly pointed past the table in the front window toward one further in. "There he is."

Prudence stared at the man he was pointing to. It was her father. And he was playing cards. She felt her heart shrivel in her chest. Tonight had been a waste of time. Perhaps all of it had been. And perhaps she'd known all along and blindly done what seemed would help-no matter how ludicrous.

She remained silent and docile as he turned her away from the window and led her back to his carriage, getting inside automatically when the driver opened the door. She remained silent as Stephen gave his driver her address and instructions to take them there. Some part of her thought she should return to the picketing. She had organized it, after all, but now there seemed little use, and she did not have the heart for it. They had all been so excited and buoyed by the fact that they were driving Ballard's customers away that she didn't want to be the one to tell them it was for naught. No doubt all their husbands and fathers were merely gambling elsewhere.

"You should give it up, Prudence. Your father simply does not wish to listen. Nothing you say will sway him. It is some sort of illness. Believe me, I know."

"Aye, I know you do," she said quietly. "Which is precisely why it is so hard for me to comprehend how you can now do to others what was done to your family."

"I am not doing anything. I run an honest establishment. I do not cheat-"

"You say that it is some sort of illness. A compulsion. Are you not then taking advantage of this illness?" When he stared at her blankly, she turned her head away with a sigh. "I am not foolish enough to think that I can make him change his ways. Our talk at Ellie's ball convinced me that I could not do that. Tonight's efforts were an attempt to at least slow his losses down. Perhaps I would have been able to keep my family intact just a little bit longer. I thought- hoped -to keep us out of the poorhouse until at least the new year. I see now that even that is not possible."

Stephen pulled back sharply at her words, concern on his face. "Surely it is not so bad?"

Pru's answer was a painful silence, and Stephen frowned, taking in her broken expression.

"Prudence, please," he began, reaching out to caress her cheek, but the carriage stopped. They had reached her home. Pulling free of his touch as the driver opened the door, Prudence stepped out of the carriage and walked through the gate to her home.

Stephen leaned back in his chair, the accounts open before him all but forgotten. His mind was not on what he should be doing, but instead taken up with thoughts of Prudence. He could not seem to get his last vision of her out of his mind. Her shoulders slumped, she had looked so defeated as she had walked away. That vision haunted him. She haunted him. Stephen hadn't known her long, but she had certainly made an impact on his life in a hurry. She had also livened it up. With her around, almost every day had been an adventure. It had gotten to the point where he had wondered what would come next. The answer now was, Nothing. She hadn't tried anything for a week, not since he had taken her to White's.

Pushing impatiently to his feet, he wandered through the kitchens of his establishment and into the gaming room. Servants were rushing about, cleaning up from last night's business and preparing for tonight's. It had picked up again now that Ballard's was no longer plagued with Pru's own particular brand of havoc.

He would trade it all to enjoy that havoc and her presence again.

Shaking his head at that thought, he walked to the front door and opened it. Plunkett turned questioningly as Stephen glanced around the street's inhabitants. No one would be coming for hours, but Plunkett started work each day as soon as Stephen unlocked the doors. He was there to prevent anyone from sneaking in to steal things while the servants were busy.

"Any trouble?" he asked almost hopefully.

"Nay, my lord. Quiet as the dead."

"Hmm." Stephen couldn't deny his disappointment. He missed her. He missed her presence, her smell, her smile, her apologetic looks as she created chaos and left destruction in her wake.

"Maybe ye should call on her, milord."

Startled by the unsolicited advice, Stephen glanced to his doorman and found the beefy man looking flustered by his own temerity in making the suggestion. But, as uncomfortable as he appeared, it didn't stop him from offering more.

"I only say that because I've noticed how you've been hankering after her, sort of low since she ain't come back. Everyone's noticed." Seeing Stephen's alarm, he added, "Not that anyone would be blaming ye. She's one of them wormy sorts."

"Wormy sorts?" Stephen echoed with amazement.

"Aye. One of them ones who worms under the skin by your heart and sticks there. Kind of charming and naughty and good all at the same time so's you don't know whether to spank her or kiss her."

Stephen considered the analogy solemnly, then nodded. It was somewhat scandalous for this doorman to speak so of a woman of Prudence's rank, but the man had the right of it. "Aye. She is definitely one of the wormy ones." Stepping out onto the stoop, he let the door close behind him. "Perhaps I will go call on the Prescotts."

"Are you not going to skate?"

Prudence smiled at Ellie's rosy-cheeked face and shook her head. "You know I cannot."

"Aye, but you have your skates on. I thought mayhap you were going to give it a go. You will improve with practice, Pru."

"That is what you said when we were ten. You do recall, do you not, the time I fell and nearly bit my tongue off?"

"Ah, yes." The other girl grimaced. "Well, why do you have your skates on then?"

"In case Charlotte falls down and hurts herself or needs me. I wanted to be prepared."

"Oh. How sensible."

"There is no need to sound so surprised that I am being sensible, Ellie. I am not a complete nodcock, you know."

"Nay, of course you aren't. I did not mean to make it sound as if you- Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh what?" Prudence asked with a frown.

"Well, fancy meeting you ladies here."

Pru stiffened at that cheerful voice, then turned to glance over her shoulder at Stephen as he joined them at the edge of the ice rink. She hadn't seen him since he had taken her to White's. And had missed him horribly, she admitted to herself, then berated herself for being an idiot. She shouldn't miss him. He was helping to ruin her family, whether deliberately or not. She should loathe the man. But he was so damned handsome, and he had such a nice smile and sweet eyes and- Damn !