Free Brenda Hiatt by Scandalous Virtue

morning!”
    In fact, the idea of setting up her own household in London had only just occurred to her—but it suddenly seemed an excellent one.
    “Move out!” Prudence was plying her fan again, leaning weakly back against the squabs. “But you have nowhere to go! Promise me you will not even think of such a thing, Nessa.”
    “I can scarcely impose upon your hospitality for the rest of my life, Prudence. Surely you must see that.”
    But Prudence shook her head. “I see no such thing. You may stay with us until you decide to return to the dower house at Haughton—or remarry. There will no doubt be several eligible and respectable gentlemen at the Plumfields’—far more respectable than that card-player, Mr. Galloway. I will endeavor to introduce you.”
    Nessa smiled at her sister, but said firmly, “I have no plans to return to the country in the near future. That dower house is positively grim, I assure you. And I do not intend to remarry, in even the distant future. I simply wish to settle in Town for the present.” And live on my own terms , she added silently.
    “While I understand your feelings, sister, remember that your cousin would have to authorize the release of your funds for such a move,” Lord Creamcroft reminded her. “In any event, I hope you will let no thought of inconveniencing us cause you to hasten such a decision. We are more than happy to have you with us for as long as you will stay.”
    Thank you, Philip,” Nessa replied warmly, thoughshe cringed at the thought of what Cousin Filmore’s response to such a request would likely be. She’d quite forgotten that her small fortune was under his control, as he’d been generous with her allowance. “I’m sure I can convince my cousin—” She broke off, noticing that her sister appeared to be on the verge of a faint. “I, er, believe Prudence requires your attention.”
    Turning, Lord Creamcroft perceived his wife’s distress and took both her hands most tenderly in his own. “There, there, my dear. It’ll all work out for the best, you’ll see.” As she was unresisting, he dared a quick kiss on her cheek.
    That brought Prudence to her senses immediately. “Philip! I mean, my lord! I mean—”
    Nessa began to chuckle, earning a reproachful glance from her sister. “Oh, never mind me. I’ll just watch Mayfair go by.” She directed her gaze resolutely to the carriage window and was gratified to hear her sister’s indignant exclamation suddenly muffled by what could only be a kiss. Yes, there was hope for true happiness there yet!
    But what of her own?
     
    “Where to next, Jack?”
    Lord Peter still sounded remarkably chipper, but Jack favored him with a sour look. They’d gone first to the Plumfield ball, but the Creamcroft party had not arrived, though they were generally expected—a fact that took some forty-five minutes to ascertain. Then they’d gone to the Trumball card party, only to discoverthat Lady Haughton, her sister, and brother-in-law had left twenty minutes earlier.
    Next they’d stopped in at a ridotto at the Peckerings, which Peter had suddenly recalled, but with no luck. The Creamcrofts had neither been nor were they particularly expected, though they had been invited.
    Miranda Dempsey, the vivacious, redheaded widow with whom Jack had dallied in Paris, had been there, however. She was clearly more than eager to rekindle their brief, torrid romance, and he had only extricated himself with some difficulty.
    “Let’s go back to Plumfields’,” suggested Jack, once he and Peter had made their escape. At the moment, he was far more inclined to head back to the club, or even home, but it was not in him to give up—not yet.
    “Just what I was going to suggest myself,” agreed Peter cheerily. “Off we go, then!”
    Jack settled back into the carriage for the fourth time that evening, reflecting, as they clattered along the streets of Mayfair, that his friend was enjoying this mad search far too much.