Page 3 of My Blind Duke
Will I ever escape that night?
“Your Grace, you must come and sing us a song!” Lady Swanson shouted from afar as she lifted her glass, nearly spilling her wine on her light green gown.
The trays of wine and champagne circulated among the guests as footmen in black livery served them dutifully. A few avoided Prudence altogether until she snagged a glass of champagne in passing.
The servant pulled the tray away too late before shooting Prudence a disapproving glare over his shoulder, causing annoyance to shoot through her.
My own servants despise me. I should send them all away.
She scowled before shaking her head and taking a sip from her glass. Sending all of the servants away without so much as a scathing reference would teach them all a lesson, yet she did not quite have it in her heart to be that cruel.
Another guest pleaded with her to take the floor and regale them with playing the pianoforte, causing Prudence’s stomach to churn nervously. Quickly, she thought of a way out and stammered through a light refusal.
“Oh, I would so hate to disappoint you all with my lack of skill. But I think we had better allow someone far more talented than myself.” She forced a smile, eliciting a round of polite laughter.
Her mother placed a hand on her arm and addressed the small crowd. “I think Lady Ashford has yet to bless us with a song. If I am not mistaken, she has quite the voice. One of a nightingale, if I can recall correctly.” She gave Prudence’s arm an encouraging squeeze.
“I would be delighted to entertain you all. Thank you for your kind praises!” Lady Ashford came forward with her nose in the air, smirking at everyone who watched her walk.
A moment of silence filled the room as everyone waited expectantly for the song to start.
One of the gentlemen took a seat at the pianoforte, flinging the tails from beneath his legs as he made himself ready with his fingers poised over the keys. His gaze momentarily fell on Prudence, slinking downward as though he wanted to commit a bit of her to memory. The hungry look in his eyes made her shiver in disgust and she quickly turned away.
Soon, a catchy tune filled the air as Lady Ashford opened her mouth, matching the notes with perfect pitch. Those interested in the songstress clamored closer to listen. Meanwhile, others lingered behind to continue sipping their drinks and gossip.
“Have you seen Lord Davis tonight? He seems to be worming his way into Miss Daniella’s heart – and likely her drawers by the end of the night.”
Prudence tried not to gasp at the statement that made its way into her ears.
“Miss Daniella? I could have sworn I saw him complimenting Lady Beatrice not too long ago, looking as though he was ready to pluck stars from the sky for her,” another person stated in surprise.
“The stars? Please. The only thing that sly rake is capable of obtaining is a good thrashing once it comes to light that he is deceiving so many women.”
Prudence snorted into her drink and stepped away from the duo, only to find herself catching snippets of another conversation.
“TheBlack Widowseems as though she has finally shed the pretense of mourning her husband. I have seen her strutting around confidently, all evening – clearly proud that she has managed to fool the ton. Or so she believes.”
The remark was strange to Prudence, who knew better than anyone that if there was one thing she actually lacked tonight, it was confidence. She was nervous and anxious, but apparently, to outsiders, otherwise was the case.
“I am appalled by her vanity. Have you seen the way she openly leers at men? Perhaps it is true then, what people say about her taking multiple lovers to her bed. Do you think one of them will be her next victim?”
“Perhaps if we were to tell her we know what she is hiding–” the woman trailed off, eyes widening when she spotted Prudence standing only a few meters away.
Embarrassed, she cleared her throat and stuttered her way into another topic, “…these refreshments are excellent. I do not think the hostess could have done a better job choosing them!”
“Yes, yes. Excellent. Shall we step out for some fresh air?” Her friend intoned, face pale when she also saw Prudence.
Prudence knew people did not trust her, and that doubts of her innocence in the death of her husband still lingered. But it struck her as odd how they could accuse her of murder and still be willing to eat and drink in her home.
And yet they do not have the backbone to tell these things to my face.
She hurried along, into a group of men and women smoking and laughing, unabashed.
“Your Grace! Would you like to join us?” one of the men grinned, stepping closer to her.
It took all Prudence had within her not to flinch, absentmindedly noting that Lady Ashford was still singing as she shook her head.
“Oh, thank you for the kind offer. I was actually on my way out to the gardens for some air,” Prudence stated quickly, with as polite of a smile as she could muster.
