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.
Chapter Five
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!
Without really considering what she was doing, Prudence propelled herself out onto the ice.
Stephen gaped after Prudence in amazement. He had arrived at the Prescott home only to learn that Pru had taken her younger sister skating. Not one to give up easily, he had left the Prescotts', headed straight to the shops to purchase himself a pair of skates, then had come to find her. And find her he had, though he had to wonder at the state of his mind, for it was obvious the woman he was pursuing was quite mad.
"What the devil is she doing?" he asked, watching her perform some sort of dance on the ice. At least he thought it was a dance, though it was one he had never seen before. It consisted of repetitive jerking, then skidding motions of her feet and a wild swinging and flapping of her arms. She careened across the ice.
"Hmmm," Eleanore Kindersley murmured consideringly beside him. "I believe she is attempting to skate, my lord."
"She is?" He let his gaze drift over the other people gliding around the rink. "No one else appears to be skating like that."
"Well, I did say attempting to skate."
Stephen raised his eyebrows at Pru's friend, but she didn't notice. She was wincing at something out on the ice. Following her gaze, Stephen winced as well. Prudence had taken a tumble and was now trying to pick herself up. She managed to get halfway back up before her feet slid out from beneath her and she ended back on her behind.
"She doesn't appear to be very good at it."
"Nay," Ellie agreed quietly. "But then she doesn't care to skate. In fact, she did not originally intend to skate today. She only wore her skates in case Charlotte needed her."
"I see," Stephen said softly, watching Prudence gain her feet only to do something like a pirouette and again land on her bottom. Shaking his head, he turned abruptly and moved to the nearest log. Settling on it, he began to undo his boots.
"What are you doing?"
Stephen glanced up at Eleanore Kindersley, then went back to what he was doing. "Putting on my skates."
"Ah. You have never tied skate laces before, have you?"
"Nay." He glanced up with surprise. "How did you know?"
"You are doing it wrong," she explained. Kneeling before him, she took the strings. "Here, let me assist you." Swatting his hands out of the way, she made quick work of the task.
"I hesitate to ask this, my lord," she said, stepping back as he got to his feet. "But have you ever been skating before?"
He paused, looking uncertain, then nodded. "Yes. I am sure I did as a child. At least, I recall drinking hot cider in the cold."
"Oh, dear. Well, perhaps you should remain here. I am sure Prudence-" She turned and fixed on something on the ice. Following her gaze again, Stephen saw that a rather dashing-looking fellow had stopped to help Pru.
"There. You see. There is no need for you to-"
Cursing under his breath, Stephen did not stick around to hear more. He sailed out onto the rink in a manner rather similar to the way Prudence had done moments before, and no doubt looking just as mad as he wheeled his arms and pedaled his feet. Not that he cared. He was more concerned with staying upright on the ridiculously slippery surface and rescuing Prudence from the randy bastard presently using the excuse of helping her as a chance to maul her.