Dangerous Read Free

of hand. He may be entirely convinced that challenging me was the only proper re­sponse under the circumstances."
    "Ridiculous. You must try to understand, my lord. Ever since Mama and Papa were killed in a carriage accident two years ago my brother has been attempting to shoulder his responsibilities as the head of the family."
    "I see."
    "He is at that dreadful age when young men feel things so very intensely. I expect you were young once yourself."
    Sebastian gazed at her, clearly fascinated. "Now that you mention it, I believe I was. It was a very long time ago, of course."
    Prudence flushed. "I did not mean to imply that you are old now, my lord."
    "Thank you."
    Prudence gave him an encouraging smile. "Heavens, you are prob­ably not much above forty."
    "Thirty-five."
    Prudence blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
    "I am thirty-five, Miss Merryweather. Not forty."
    "Oh. I see." Prudence wondered if she had offended him. She sought to recover whatever ground she had lost. "Well, you certainly have the aspect of the sort of sound maturity one would expect in a much older man, sir."
    "Kind of you to say so. Others have said that my face bears the marks of a blighted soul and too much hard living."
    Prudence swallowed. "The thing is, my lord, I fear we must rely on the wisdom and common sense that you have no doubt acquired dur­ing the past thirty-five years if we are to put an end to the foolishness of a twenty-year-old boy."
    Sebastian studied her for a long moment. "You're serious, aren't you, Miss Merryweather? You actually expect me to apologize to your brother."
    "I am quite serious. This is a matter of life and death, my lord. According to my sources, you are an extremely excellent shot." Pru­dence tightened her clasped hands. "I understand you practice regu­larly at Manton's and that this will not be your first duel."
    "You appear to be remarkably well informed."
    "I am very good at investigating things, my lord," Prudence said stiffly. "It is a hobby of mine, as I explained to you earlier this eve­ning."
    "So you did. But I was under the impression that your primary interest was the investigation of spectral phenomena."
    Prudence glanced at the cat. "It is true that I have specialized in such matters, but I assure you my interests are actually quite wide-ranging. I enjoy finding answers to puzzling questions."
    "Do you believe in ghosts, Miss Merryweather?"
    "I myself am extremely skeptical on the subject," Prudence admit­ted. "But many people do believe in ghosts. They often think they have evidence of spectral phenomena. My hobby involves examining that evidence and attempting to find a logical explanation for it."
    "I see." Sebastian gazed into the flames on the hearth. "It was because I had heard of your rather unusual hobby that I asked to be introduced to you."
    Prudence smiled ruefully. "I am well aware of that, my lord. I realize I am accounted an Original here in Town. You are not the first gentleman who has sought an introduction simply because he was curious about my hobby. Do you have any notion of how irritating it is to be asked to dance merely because one is considered odd?"
    "I believe I have some idea," Sebastian said, his tone curiously dry. "The
ton
is always intrigued by the unusual. It reacts like a small child with a new toy. And if it happens to break that toy, it will toss it aside and go on to another bright, glittering object."
    "I understand." Prudence's heart sank. Had she actually hoped that he had found her a bit more interesting than a new toy? This was the Fallen Angel, after all. "You are telling me that you asked me to dance because I am the newest of the
ton‘
s entertainments. You were merely amusing yourself."
    "No." Sebastian watched her with hooded eyes. "I asked you to dance because you intrigued me, Miss Merryweather. It occurred to me that you and I might have some interests in common."
    She stared at him in astonishment. "Really, my lord? Are you involved in investigations