The Courteous Cad Read Online Free Page A

evening.”
    William joined in the general bidding of farewells and adieus, but he could not resist an aside to Prudence.
    “Miss Watson,” he murmured in all seriousness, “your happiness is my desire. If I may assist you in some way . . . that is, if you should like to meet with any person in my employ . . . if such a meeting might ease your heart, I shall be glad to—”
    “No, please,” she cut in. “Never mention me to anyone, I beg you. I must not speak to that person. I cannot . . . see him . . . Oh, excuse me!”
    With a muffled cry, she rushed from the room.
    Mary started after her but then apparently thought better of it. “Prudence is not given to hysterics, I assure you,” she informed the gathering. “I fear the distress of my sister’s mishap has unsettled her.”
    “Please comfort Miss Watson with the assurance that we shall never speak of it again,” Olivia said. “This evening we shall solicit William’s tales of naval exploits. He usually can be coaxed to relate his adventures.”
    “Though we rarely believe half of what he tells us,” Randolph added. “But forgive me, brother—I discredit you again. We affirm your reputed transformation from rogue to gentleman, and we are keen to witness it.”
    “And so you shall,” William pledged. “Mrs. Heathhill, please give your sister my regards.”
    On that note, they departed the inn and moved down the street toward their carriage. Olivia declared Mrs. Heathhill to be the very picture of a lady, though her younger sibling, she feared, might be the nervous sort. Randolph defended Miss Watson’s tender nerves and remarked upon her loveliness.
    William kept his thoughts to himself. If Prudence Watson was half the woman he supposed, she was far above him in integrity and virtue.
    He had not turned over a new leaf.
    Even if he had, she would be beyond him. The secrets of his past would haunt him forever. He had no doubt of that. Nothing he might do now or in the future could absolve him.
    Miss Watson must be left alone. Despite her protests to the contrary, she would find another man to love. In time, memories of her fondness for a certain poor blacksmith would fade. As would any recollection of a man who had helped her from a puddle somewhere in Yorkshire.

    “I believe an unmarried woman must do good wherever she goes.” Prudence spoke with fervor before the assembled friends and family of Lord and Lady Thorne.
    After a sumptuous dinner, they had gathered around the fire in the great drawing room. The meal had warmed Prudence’s spirits, and her hosts’ kindness had eased her heartache. The subject of eager discussion was Prudence’s future, with every participant—except William Sherbourne—advocating matrimony. Several possible husbands were suggested, their merits and shortcomings the theme of heated debate.
    “I shall never wed,” Prudence declared before they could begin to set a wedding date and select a gown. “Therefore, I await the call of God. When I am certain of the cause He wishes me to champion, I shall march into the fray and do battle to the end.”
    “Does God often require such violence of His followers?” William Sherbourne asked. “I confess I was blissfully unaware.”
    He stood with one arm on the mantel, the image of idleness and indifference. The man had said little all evening, and when he did speak, it was to trivialize every topic of conversation. Making jests at the expense of others and bandying with his brother humored him no end. Prudence had decided to despise him.
    “Miss Watson, I am of a mind to inspect the armory here at Thorne Lodge,” William went on. “You will need a strong shield and a sharp sword if you are to combat the evils of this world.”
    “Are you blissfully unaware of the shield of faith and the sword of the Spirit, sir?” She made little effort to conceal her disdain. “They are described in St. Paul’s epistle to the Ephesians. The full armor of God is all I require in my