"Get us away from here, Jamison. Quickly!" she cried as she lunged into the carriage. The door was closed behind her before she even landed on the seat.
"What happened? Ye haven't lost me my job, have ye?" Lizzy cried as the carriage shifted under the weight of Jamison remounting the driver's bench.
Prudence grabbed at the seat and waited until the carriage had lurched forward before answering.
Chapter Four
"Poisoning the punch, are we?"
Dropping the dipper in the punch bowl, Prudence whirled to find the owner of that silky voice, eyes wary as she met Lord Stockton's mocking gaze. She hadn't seen the man since the night of the little accident at his club. Well, all right, the night she had poisoned his patrons. Which had been two nights ago. Pru had considered sending him a letter of apology explaining the situation, but had decided against it, thinking that such an apology really should be given in person. But here was her chance, and she wished she had sent him a letter. Or that she had refused to allow Eleanore to talk her into coming tonight. Forcing Prudence to attend her mother's ball had been Ellie's attempt to cheer her friend and distract her from the Prescott family's mounting bills.
Prudence was neither distracted nor cheered. She was terribly conscious of the fact that she was wearing a borrowed gown, and nothing could make her forget the subtle snubs she was receiving, or the fact that no one had asked her to dance.
"You have yet to answer my question," Stephen said, drawing her attention back to him. "Are you poisoning the punch? I ask only because I should like to know if you are out to torment all of the ton for your father's misdeeds, or are concentrating solely on ruining me."
Catching the startled glances being cast at them and the way people around the punch bowl were suddenly setting down their empty glasses, Prudence forced a stiff chuckle. "Oh, my lord, you are such a wit. But you should not jest like that or people might truly believe that I would do such a thing."
"The ones who suffered so foully at my club the other night, thanks to your poisoning, would have no trouble believing-"
Prudence cut him off by grabbing his arm, jerking him away from the table of refreshments and toward the balcony doors. She had no delusions about her strength. The only reason she managed to drag him out of the ballroom was because he let her. Since it suited her needs at the moment, she could only be grateful for his docility.
Prudence pulled him outside, shivered as the winter chill struck her skin, then led him along the wall of glass doors until they reached those leading into Lord Kindersley's office. Ellie's father didn't like anyone in there, but it was too cold to stay outside, and she needed privacy for this confrontation.
"So, what plans have you for tonight?" Stephen asked as she entered the gloomy room and turned to face him. "You have already both started a riot and poisoned a large crowd. Perhaps you intend to start a fire to roast all of-"
"Please stop," Prudence said wearily. She was not surprised by his irritation, but with all the troubles plaguing her, did not have the energy to fend it off. "I did not intend to start that riot. I was attempting to protect one of your serving women from a rather nasty client of yours."
"I know." Stockton 's mouth was a bit tight, but some of the tension had left his body. Prudence felt some relief at that. She was even happier to see the last of that tension leave him as she explained, "Neither did I intend to poison your patrons. The bottle of emetic must have fallen into the barrel while I was searching about for the lid on the floor. I did not realize that it had or I would have warned someone… Probably," she added, because she wasn't at all sure she would have. She had been so determined to see her father out of Ballard's. She still was, for that matter.
"Emetic?" He grimaced with distaste at the realization of what had forced him to hang out his office window. "I take it the emetic was meant for your father?"
"Aye. Ellie suggested that perhaps getting him to refrain from imbibing would put an end to his gambling as well. It seemed plausible, so…" She shrugged.
"Ellie? Eleanore Kindersley?"
"Aye." She brightened slightly. "Do you know her?"
"She is the daughter of our host," he pointed out gently. "And I do know that she is your friend."
"Oh." Prudence accepted the information, then, recalling a suggestion Eleanore had made earlier that day, managed a pleasant smile and raised her hand. "Well, I vow here and now, my lord, that you need no longer fear my disrupting the workings of Ballard's. I will not attempt to gain entrance again."
"Hmmm." He considered her doubtfully. "Never again, eh?"
"Never ever," Prudence teased lightly, mimicking Plunkett's deep voice, and felt optimism rise within her when a reluctant smile began to pull at the corners of his mouth. Then he forced it away, a scowl coming in its place.
"You do realize that you have caused me a good deal of trouble?"
"I am sorry for that."
"That may be, but my clientele has taken a dip."
She peered repentantly down at her feet and waited, relieved when at last he sighed.
"Well, I am sure business will pick up again soon enough. And I realize that you did not mean the harm you caused. At least not on the scale you managed. Besides, I tried a similar trick or two on my own father when he was gambling us to ruin. But I feel I should tell you that such tricks will not work. Your energy would be better spent picketing to get the laws changed and all gambling establishments closed dow-"
"Your father?" Prudence interrupted him.
His mouth turned down in displeasure and he moved away. Realizing that it was likely a sensitive issue, Prudence gave him a moment to compose his thoughts and glanced around the darkened room. The remains of a dying fire smoldered in the fireplace. That was the only light. Obviously guests were not intended to be here, and she felt slightly guilty. She knew Lord Kindersley was so jealous of his privacy that he did not even allow servants in here to clean. Had Ellie not told her that, the layer of dust and many cobwebs would have. Thinking of spiders and shuddering, she followed Stephen to a large statue in the corner of the room. It was in the Greek style, a seven-foot woman in a toga reaching toward the sky, her arms turning into the branches of a tree over their heads. Deciding that Lord Kindersley had atrocious taste, Prudence turned her attention to Stephen as he brushed at a spiderweb spun between two of the marble branches and finally spoke.
"My father did the same thing your father is now doing. He drove us to the edge of ruin with his gambling. He did not drink, however. Just gambled. And he did not start suddenly, as a tonic to distract himself from the death of his son and heir; he was always a gambler-but the longer he did it, the worse it got. I used to-" He paused abruptly, and Prudence moved a step closer, laying her hand gently over his now fisted one in a silent effort to soothe him. He glanced down with surprise; then his expression softened and his hand opened under hers, moving to gently clasp it.
"How did you convince him to stop?" Prudence asked after a moment of silence.
A harsh laugh burst from his lips, and his fingers tightened around hers. She didn't think he realized that he was crushing her hand, but she hesitated to draw his attention to the fact, because she desperately wanted to hear the answer to her question. If he had managed to make his father stop, perhaps she could save her father the same way.
Those hopes were shattered when he said, "He stopped himself. He gambled everything away but the Stockton estate. He could not touch that. So he came home that night, after gambling the last of everything else away, and shot himself."