In Bed with the Duke

‘Hugo is not only my nearest male relative, but my heir,’ he said, sauntering across to where Hugo was lounging on an armchair and pouring a generous measure into the glass Hugo was holding out ready. ‘Therefore I make him a quarterly allowance. Which he considers insufficient.’

Hugo snorted and pulled a face.

‘We were having one of our regular discussions, during the course of which Hugo accused me of being miserly...’

Lady Mixby gasped. ‘Oh, Hugo, how could you? Halstead is the most generous of men. You know very well he gave me a home here, saying it was so that I could look after the property which would otherwise remain empty and neglected. And he gives me a simply huge allowance. It is supposed to be for the household bills, which everyone knows his man of business settles in full because I haven’t the ability to look after a...a cushion! I’m that scatterbrained. I’d only get into a scrape if I was obliged to balance the accounts, if ever I was given any to balance—which I must own I haven’t.’

She paused with a frown as her speech became too tangled even for her to follow herself.

‘Yes, yes, he’s always been very generous to you,’ said Hugo, as Gregory took her glass and gave her twice the amount he’d poured for Prudence. ‘But he don’t understand what it’s like being on the Town these days. If he’d only increase my allowance I wouldn’t have to keep going to him to bail me out.’

‘And I repeat,’ Gregory said wearily, arriving at the chair upon which Benderby was sitting and filling her glass to the brim. ‘Until you learn a little sense, and stop allowing yourself to be gulled by a lot of Captain Sharps, raising your allowance will only serve to line their pockets.’

‘And I repeat,’ said Hugo, as Gregory went to the sideboard to fetch another glass. ‘Anyone can be gulled when first on the Town. It has happened to lots of my friends. So I said to him,’ he said, turning to Prudence, ‘that I’d like to see him exist on what he allows me out in the real world, without an army of servants at his bidding to smooth his way.’

‘And I replied that not only could I exist,’ said Gregory, taking the port to where the mill worker was perched on the edge of an upright chair by the window, ‘I could also make myself useful—which is something Hugo has never even attempted to be.’

‘Well, you can see how it was,’ said Hugo to Prudence. ‘He sat there behind his desk, looking down his nose at me, when he has never had any notion of what it’s like to manage on a limited income, let alone have dealings with ordinary people on equal terms. So I challenged him to do it. To live for just one week like an ordinary man, on what he’d expect me to live on, without being obliged either to pawn something or ending up in the roundhouse.’

So that was why he’d been so reluctant to pawn his watch. And had been prepared to muck out a cow byre rather than risk being taken to the local magistrate. It would have meant losing the wager.

Prudence felt as if she’d been hit in the stomach by an icy fist. She’d made a fool of herself. Had sung in public and been molested by drunks because she’d thought he looked upset at the prospect of having to pawn that watch. How could he have let her do that?

‘In my arrogance,’ he said, ‘I accepted. Not only to survive for one week on Hugo’s terms but to achieve something useful, which I’d already stated I could do. The letter from you, Mr Bodkin, was lying on my desk. I had already decided to investigate your complaint. But with Hugo’s challenge ringing in my ears I vowed to go in person to Wragley’s and put right what was wrong, rather than just sending an agent.’

‘What?’ Mr Bodkin got to his feet, sloshing port over the back of his hand. ‘You came up to Wragley’s, pretending to be someone you’re not, and goaded me into getting into a fight with my foreman, so’s I lost my job and my home, because of some stupid wager?’

‘Not exactly,’ said Gregory. ‘I had come to investigate the claims you’d made, and I was never pretending to be someone I’m not. My family name is Willingale. I just omitted to inform you of the titles I possess.’

‘Aye, but—’

‘I know, I know...’ Gregory raised his hands in a placatory gesture. ‘The foreman turned you out of your job and your home. But I did tell you, did I not, that if that happened you should come here and the Duke himself would make it all right? That if you handed the ring I gave you as a token to the lady who lived here she would take you in and house you until such time as the Duke could reinstate you?’