Dangerous Read Free

gaze. “I beg your pardon?”
    “You heard me. You must apologize to him.” Prudence leaned forward. “It is the only way, my lord. Trevor is barely twenty, you know. He is nervous and I believe he knows he is in over his head, but he is much too young and too hotheaded to admit that this situation has gotten out of hand.”
    “Your brother may not feel that it has gotten out 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 wemust 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 haveany 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