The Timeless Love Romance Collection Read online

  Smiling back at him, she waited for him to leave the room before she glanced hesitantly at Jessica. “I have ordered a dress for each of you. They will be delivered within the hour. At the party, every guest will have a decorated box for valentines. I am telling you this so that you may prepare them and have them ready. A copy of my guest list is in my morning room and you can decide from it to whom you wish to give.”

  Jessica’s eyes grew flinty. “I don’t need to see the list. There is no one I wish to give valentines to.”

  “Not even your sisters?”

  Jessica had the grace to blush.

  “Many of your own friends will be there, too,” her mother continued. “If you choose not to give any to a man, that choice is, of course, your own.”

  Mrs. Hilliard’s eyes rested briefly on Prudence. “You are not getting any younger, you know. It is time you settled down and began to raise a family.”

  Chance is a fine thing, Prudence thought. Having lived in the shadows of her beautiful sisters for many years, Prudence had no illusions about herself. She was doomed to remain an old maid. At twenty-two, she was already considered a bit long in the tooth. Of course, she did not feel old, but that was not saying anything where men were concerned.

  “Darlings,” their mother told them softly, “I only want you to know the joys of being the woman God intended you to be. He has said that it was not good for man to be alone. That goes for women, too. I only want you to know the joys of love, for without it you will never feel truly fulfilled.”

  Jessica snorted but refrained from comment. The timbre of their mother’s voice told them that she believed with all of her heart the things she was saying. Even Jessica could not deny it, and would not dare to hurt her mother’s feelings by ridiculing her.

  Prudence went quietly to her room while the servants began preparing the house for the coming festivities. She was amazed that her mother had accomplished so much without either her or Jessica’s knowledge.

  Constance followed her into her bedroom, her manner more quiet than usual. “Are you angry, Pru?” she asked, using the nickname her mother detested.

  Prudence shook her head. “No, not angry. But I’m not exactly delighted, either.”

  “Why do you hate parties so much?”

  Prudence sighed. How could she explain to her sister that parties were lonely times for her? A wallflower who kept the older matrons occupied while their children danced and flirted. Normally, Prudence did not mind, but just lately she had become more dissatisfied and frequently begged off attending the various affairs. She knew her mother worried about her, but her father had not. He had told her forthrightly that she had inherited his looks and that on a woman they were less than flattering; but he had also told her that one day a man would see past the outer adornments and would look at her spirit.

  “I don’t hate parties, Constance. I would just rather not attend them,” Prudence said.

  A maid, carrying a large dress box, entered the room. “This just arrived, miss. Your mother said to bring it up.”

  Squealing with delight, Constance leaped off the bed and ran to Prudence’s side. “Your dress, Pru. Open it!”

  Feeling a sudden apprehension, Prudence slowly opened the box, her sister dancing anxiously at her side. Pushing aside the tissue, Prudence gasped at the beauty of the gown within. Lifting it carefully from the box, she shook it out slightly, holding it against her chest and peering down at the beautiful red silk that extended to just past her knees. The underskirt was still in the box and Constance pulled it out, aahing over the lovely pink organza.

  “Oh, Pru,” Constance breathed, “that color goes beautifully with your hair.”

  Eyes widening, Constance flew out of the room, her voice floating behind her. “If your dress is here, then mine must be, also.”

  Prudence watched her sister leave, her mind not fully on what she had just said. Her thoughts were on the night to come. Constance would be with Devlin, she knew. Suddenly a picture came to her of Devlin this morning, looking at her from the street below. She had been watching out the window as the Italians did, but instead of some stranger she had expected to see, the first face she had seen had been Devlin’s.

  Chapter 2

  Prudence eyed the valentine critically. Was it too fancy? Her mother had always said that she had all the artistic talent in the family, but she attributed that to motherly prejudice. Still, the red heart she had painted on the pink paper was perfectly symmetrical, and the small yellow roses she had painted over the heart looked almost real. She had curled a ribbon into a bow and had attached it with glue to the right corner. Prudence’s tongue tip protruded slightly from between her teeth as she frowned over the results of her artistic endeavor.

  Constance peeked over Prudence’s shoulder. “Oh, Pru. That’s lovely. You should consider going into the card-making business like Esther Howland. I bet you could make as much money as she does.”

  Prudence grinned at her sister. “Thank you, kind mistress. But I’m afraid I haven’t the time.”

  Constance looked at her sister slyly. “What do you do with your time?”

  “Never you mind,” Prudence told her, placing the valentine aside and pulling another sheet of paper toward her.

  “Are you going to make valentines for everyone?” Constance demanded. “That will take hours! Why don’t you just buy them like everyone else?”

  “Not everyone buys valentines,” Prudence argued. “Many people still make them. Who wants to pay ten dollars for a valentine?”

  “Well, if you can afford to, why not? Besides, not all store-bought valentines are that expensive. I bought all of mine.”

  Prudence studied the paper before her, her mind only half on what her sister had just said. “I think it means more when someone takes the time to make something by hand.”

  “Oh, honestly, Pru. You’re so old-fashioned.”

  Constance lifted the Valentine Writer’s Handbook from Prudence’s desk and began to flip through it, reading some of the quaint sayings. Shaking her head, she laid it back on the table and went toward the door. Before leaving, she told her sister, “By the way, Devlin has asked Terence to escort you to the dance.”

  Constance quickly vacated before her sister could react, which was a fine thing, for Prudence came quickly to her feet, ready to deny any such possibility.

  “Oh, bother,” Prudence groused, flinging herself back into her seat. “And in a red dress, too!”

  Terence studied his cousin Devlin, sitting across from him in his aunt’s parlor. He was a handsome man, no doubt about that, and rich as well. So how had his American cousin managed to stay free from the marriage net that his mother and aunt seemed determined to draw him into?

  “I say, Devlin, that Constance Hilliard is one fine-looking woman. You’re a very lucky man.”

  Devlin grinned a lopsided grin. “How so?”

  “Well … I mean … isn’t she yours?”

  “If you mean do I have matrimonial intentions toward the aforementioned lady, then no, she does not belong to me.”

  Terence frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “I dare say you don’t,” Devlin agreed. He had no intention of discussing his relationships with anyone, much less a cousin he hardly knew.

  Trying another tack, Terence mentioned Constance’s sister, Jessica. “She’s as lovely, if not lovelier, than Constance.”

  Devlin watched his cousin, his eyes devoid of any emotion. “Agreed. But watch out for Jessica.”

  Intrigued, Terence leaned closer. “Why?”

  “She’s a suffragette.”

  Eyebrows flying upward, Terence sat back against the settee. “Ye gads, what a waste!”

  Devlin grinned mischievously. “Aren’t you glad I asked for Prudence to be your escort instead of Jessica?”

  If anything, the eyebrows went higher. “The homely one?”

  Devlin’s eyes darkened, the smile freezing on his face. “Watch what you say about Pru
dence. She’s the only intelligent one of the bunch.”

  “I take it she’s a personal friend of yours?” Terence asked, more than a little nonplussed by his cousin’s attitude.

  “You take it correctly.”

  Thinking he understood, Terence made haste to apologize. “Sorry, Dev. I suppose one day she will be your sister-in-law, and you feel the need to defend her. I didn’t mean to be offensive.”

  Devlin did not answer. He studied the cup of tea in his hands, wondering what Terence would say if he knew the truth of the matter. In the beginning, he had gone to the Hilliards’ to see Constance, true. But before long, her simplemindedness caused his interest in her to pall. Constance’s main goal in life was to look beautiful and have fun.

  But then, hadn’t his been the same? When had it changed? Maybe when he had started having long conversations with Prudence. Now, there was a woman who knew what she wanted out of life. Never had he met a woman he could converse with, or even argue with for that matter, as he could her. Often her logic had swayed his own opinion. Prudence had set goals for herself and was striving to attain them. Education was important to her.

  It bothered him more than a little, knowing that everyone seemed to consider her so homely. She wasn’t that exactly, she was just overshadowed by two beautiful butterflies.

  Terence’s voice penetrated his musings. “Did you hear me?”

  “What?”

  “I asked what time we leave for the party tonight?”

  “The party is at seven. Unlike most people, I believe in being unfashionably early. We shall leave here at half-past six.”

  Rising to his feet, Devlin rang the pull cord beside the fireplace. A servant entered, bowing before Devlin. “Sir?”

  “Raglan, we would like to dine early today. How about five?”

  “As you wish, sir.”

  Devlin watched his butler exit the room before turning to his cousin. “Now, Terence. Let us discuss ways and means about this party.”

  Prudence was the first to descend the staircase. Constance would still be another hour at least, and Jessica, who disdained what she called such folderol, would take almost as long. Regardless of what Jessica said, when it came to appearances, she was as much a woman as Constance.

  Prudence entered the parlor, her pink organza swishing around her feet. The red overdress was pulled up at the center bottom by a lovely white silk rose. Tugging at the bodice, Prudence frowned down at the neckline.

  “Leave it, Prudence,” her mother called softly from the other side of the room. “You look lovely.”

  At Prudence’s entrance, her father had risen and now stood studying her, his eyes shining. His voice was slightly husky when he spoke. “You are a sight, lass,” he told her, and for the first time in her life, Prudence actually felt like she was lovely. She seated herself across from her mother, in the other wing chair next to the fire.

  Her mother was as beautiful as her two sisters. Often, people mistook her for a sister instead of their mother. Her blond hair was stylishly arranged in ringlets hanging down her back, although for the most part, they were false hairpieces. Constance would wear the same, but Jessica and Prudence disliked such artificiality. Prudence’s own hair was artfully arranged in shorter ringlets, a spray of red roses tucked neatly into the top.

  Before long, the first of the guests started to arrive. Devlin and Terence had made their appearance long before any others, but Mr. Hilliard was quite content to entertain them.

  When they had first entered the parlor, both men had stopped short at the sight of Prudence, the light from the fire casting brilliant fingers of red and yellow across her gown and giving a red tint to her normally mouse-brown hair. Terence blinked once before glancing quickly at Devlin, whose face was an inscrutable mask.

  Mrs. Hilliard rose gracefully to her feet. “Devlin, Terence. Come in.”

  They talked for a few minutes before Prudence’s mother excused herself to see how the preparations for the party were proceeding. Mr. Hilliard began questioning Terence about England and asked after Devlin’s mother.

  Devlin walked over to where Prudence was seated, gazing into the fire. He turned his head toward her, his eyes raking her from head to foot.

  “So, Cinderella has awakened from a long sleep. You look lovely,” Devlin said.

  Prudence blushed, her cheeks matching the color of her overdress. “Haven’t you mixed your fairy tales?” she asked him.

  “I think not,” he answered her softly, bringing more color to her face.

  Her own thoughts were on how well Devlin looked in his own evening clothes. He had removed his top hat, overcoat, and gloves upon entering the house, and Prudence thought he looked magnificent with his long tails.

  His waistcoat was of black velvet and had wide silk lapels, and his white shirt with its high collar accented his dark skin. He had chosen a cravat instead of a tie and the black of it matched his other evening wear. Even his hair was black, so black it shone with blue highlights. When his dark eyes turned their inspection to her face, she colored hotly, having been caught staring.

  “Constance will be down soon,” she told him, dropping her eyes to her lap.

  His lips tilted at the corners, but he said nothing. Prudence had never known him to be so lacking in words. She stumbled about for an area of conversation she thought would not seem trite. “So, Devlin, what do you think of Mr. Seward’s Folly?”

  “To make Russian America part of the United States? I think it’s a great idea.”

  Prudence’s father interrupted. “I agree. Think of all the fur and fishing to be had, and for two cents an acre. It seems a great bargain to me.”

  “Not everyone would agree with us,” Devlin told him, and Mr. Hilliard laughed.

  “True. Perhaps it’s the thought of spending seven million, two hundred thousand American tax dollars that upsets them so.”

  Terence whistled. “That’s quite a bit of money.”

  They became embroiled in the conversation, not noticing when Constance made her grand entrance. She coughed quietly to gain their attention, and four pair of eyes swiveled her way.

  Prudence heard Terence’s quick intake of breath, but her eyes were on Devlin. His appreciation of her sister’s beauty was registered in his eyes, and suddenly Prudence felt very dowdy in comparison.

  Constance drifted into the room, flicking her fan open as she reached Terence. Certain of his admiration, she made her way to Devlin’s side. She batted her eyelashes coyly, taking the arm he held out to her.

  “Miss Constance,” he told her smoothly, “you are as lovely as ever.”

  And she was, Prudence realized. The rose pink of her gown added color to the youthful bloom in her cheeks, her china-blue eyes sparkling with feelings.

  Jessica entered the room after her sister, her red silk gown rustling as she moved to her father’s side. Terence and Devlin exchanged glances and Terence moved to Prudence’s side.

  “Miss Prudence,” he addressed her, “I understand I am to have the pleasure of your company tonight. If you agree, of course.”

  Prudence had not missed the fact that Jessica had been overlooked in the introductions and Jessica’s eloquent blue eyes told her that she was aware of the slight, also. Seeking to pacify, Prudence motioned toward Jessica. “Mr. Scott, I don’t believe you have met my sister, Jessica.”

  “I believe we were introduced this morning,” he told her coolly, turning back to Prudence, who dropped her mouth open in surprise. She had yet to meet the man who was not bowled over by her sister’s beauty, but it would seem she had met him now. Jessica was less than pleased, her fuming eyes looking like chips of blue ice.

  Mrs. Hilliard came sweeping into the room. “Our other guests are arriving, John. Girls, places, please.”

  Terence and Devlin moved with the others into the entryway. As the family took their places in the receiving line, the young men made their way from the parlor into the ballroom that had been prepared for this night. />
  A shimmering candelabra hung suspended from the ceiling, the flaming candles sending sparkling prisms of color around the room. Red, pink, and white roses flowed everywhere, adding a delicate scent to the rapidly filling area. Although the men were dressed in black evening attire, all the women wore shades of pink and red.

  Mrs. Hilliard’s idea, no doubt, Devlin thought. She must surely know that her daughters look exceptionally fine in those colors, even Prudence.

  Devlin’s eyes searched for and found Prudence as she mingled among the guests. She truly looked lovely this evening, yet she made no attempt to draw attention to herself. For some reason, he wanted to make this evening memorable for her.

  To that end, he made his way to where a group of young men were huddled together whispering, their eyes following Constance and Jessica, who were no doubt the belles of the ball. He joined the group, shaking hands all around since he knew all the young men present.

  “Beauties, aren’t they?” he suggested, his eyes on the two sisters.

  The men hastened to agree. Devlin’s eyes searched again for Prudence and found her sitting on a settee talking to his own mother. She glanced from time to time at the dancers on the floor, but she politely listened to her guest’s conversation.

  “You know,” Devlin told the group, “one way to win the favor of the two charming Hilliard sisters might be to show favor to their sister, Prudence.”

  Four pairs of eyes swung to where Prudence sat, still listening to Devlin’s mother, then back to her two ravishing sisters.

  “I have heard it said,” Devlin continued, “that Constance and Jessica will not countenance a young man’s favor if they think their sister has been slighted.”

  “Oh.” Four pairs of eyes followed Constance and Jessica longingly before straying back to Prudence.

  Clearing his throat, one of the men, Thomas, moved away from the others. “If you’ll excuse me,” he told the others, and Devlin watched as he made his way to Prudence’s side. Before many seconds passed, the others quickly followed suit.

  Devlin grinned at Prudence’s surprised expression as she stared bewildered at her determined suitors. Each man signed her dance card, Thomas pulling her to her feet while she excused herself to her guest.