The Duke's Tattoo: A Regency Romance of Love and Revenge, Though Not in That Order by Miranda Davis Read Free Book Online Page A

continued, “Perhaps he assumed you knew how pretty you were but a girl should hear it from her father.”
    Miss Haversham remained silent and adjusted the napkin in her lap.
    “See? There! You look dismayed, my sweet.” Lady Abingdon patted her hand. “You’re a lovely girl, not that your father or jingle-witted brother ever said so.”
    “There’s nothing particularly useful about being pretty.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous, a woman finds all her strengths useful.”
    “My strengths are in other areas.”
    “Hardly! You are the image of your dear mother who was devastating in her day. Men found her eyes entrancing. Wrote any number of rubbishy sonnets to them. And you have her eyes.” The dowager countess lifted her napkin to touch each corner of her delicate rosebud mouth before she continued a little breathless, “I’ve loved you as a daughter — produced nothing but sons myself, much to the delight of Abingdon — so I shall continue to meddle in your life as I see fit and that is that. You, my dear, shall not die on the vine. That will not do.”
    Prudence gave her godmother a practiced smile and prayed she would find another outlet for her prodigious matchmaking energy.
    Her ladyship began to fan herself briskly in the none-too-warm tearoom.
    “Are you well, Lady Abingdon?”
    “No need for concern, my dear,” she said with a negligent wave of a hand as she dabbed a handkerchief at her upper lip. “Just a bit breathless now and then. At my age, I am relieved to be breathing at all. The quacks claim it’s my heart but I notice it beats so I cannot imagine what they are on about. They say a murmur’s become a muttering or some such.”
    Prudence looked closely at her godmother. Her color under the layer of powder was the same as the pale talc. Her lips had a bluish cast at the edges indicating poor circulation.
    “Lady Abingdon, I beg you to heed your doctors.”
    “If I did, I’d be abed even now instead of having tea with my favorite godchild. Tea is a great restorative as any well-versed herbalist knows.”
    “You must take care of your health.”
    “I am fine, my dear. Better than fine. Matter of fact, I’m contemplating a pleasure trip to Italy.”
    “You cannot!”
    “Pooh! I can and will. I am done with emetics, paregorics, bloodletting and leeches, I tell you. Finished! I am worse off for the best care available and I’ll have no more of it.”
    “But...”
    “But nothing. It will be a most excellent adventure. So salubrious to relax under the Tuscan sun half potted on Chianti and fully stuffed with the local proscuitto ham. Bound to see some ruins and cathedrals, I suppose. Plan to stay in Florence. Very civilized place, Medici and all,” Lady Abingdon mused aloud. “Popes and poisoners in that family but then, who doesn’t have a mad uncle or aunt, I say. Makes holidays eventful.”
    Prudence laughed uncertainly with her ladyship.
    “I had hoped I might persuade you to join me. Be my companion in Italy instead of an ape leader in Bath. I would welcome your company, my dear child.”
    “Italy, Lady Abingdon?”
    “Lord Abingdon went there on his Grand Tour. Never heard the end of it — until he passed on, of course. Simply adored Tuscany and I have a mind to see what all the fuss was about before I join him in what will undoubtedly be a ham-less eternity.”
    “I would love to go with you but the apothecary shop...”
    “Will carry on quite nicely without you. It’s only a twelve-month. You’ve trained Mr. Murphy well and deserve to see a bit of the world while you can enjoy it. Perhaps you’ll meet a handsome Italian Count.”
    Prudence gave her a look.
    “Think on it, Prudence.”
    “I am honored you would consider me.”
    “Consider you! I thought of no other. Nor am I in a hurry to go. The autumn is lovely there or so I’m told. We’ll have a wonderful time together, I’ll wager. Everything at the apothecary shop will be as you left it when you return.”
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