Page 5 of Courting Claudia

“Prattley, you say? Oh, he’s titled alright.” Aunt Chloe gave him a smile. A slow smile that resembled a barn cat after she’d devoured a mouse. She all but licked her lips.

“Do you know her father?”

“Indeed. As do you, my dear. Prattley is the family name of the Viscount Kennington.”

Derrick dropped his fork. This day could not end soon enough. Of all the rotten luck. Had there been a storm, he wouldn’t dare go outside, because lightning would surely strike. He eyed the chandelier, surprised it hadn’t fallen on him.

By God, he would have paid his entire fortune to keep in his employ the daughter of Kennington. The man who had made it his personal agenda to ruin Derrick’s father and the reputation of The Challenger.

The bastard hadn’t succeeded, but his letters to the editor disputed every sentiment raised. People had listened to him, as he’d been the chancellor of finance at the time. Despite his efforts, Kennington hadn’t ruined the paper; Derrick had managed to do that himself.

“I can tell by your reaction that you hadn’t made the connection. Don’t you think old Kennie would love to know his precious daughter worked for you and your dirty little paper?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

Derrick chuckled. “And if it weren’t for the fact that I want her to continue working for me, I just might tell him. I’m not sure the girl would fare well if he ever found out. I would wager he’s a tyrant in his own home. He certainly raises enough hell in Parliament.”

“Did she indicate why she needed to resign?”

“She has to marry.”

“That shouldn’t stop her. Marriage never stopped me from doing anything.” His aunt pointed her fork at him. “You are going to convince her to continue working, aren’t you?”

“I haven’t figured that out as of yet.” He shrugged. “I did find out where Miss Prattley will be tomorrow evening. I have secured myself an invitation and will do what I can there to persuade her.”

“How did you manage that?”

“I have my sources. Newsmen never reveal their sources.”

“You’re no fun.” She drained her wineglass. “To whom is she betrothed?”

“She’s not. It’s confusing—at least it confused me. I suppose she is getting pressure from her father to marry.”

“If that is indeed the reason she cannot continue working, then you simply need to ensure she doesn’t marry. But first you must convince her to work for you until she is safely wed. Then you prevent the latter from happening.”

“You are wicked, Aunt.”

“I don’t mean indefinitely, dear boy. Just until you can convince her to work for you regardless of her marital status. Or until you find a replacement.”

That might work. Surely he could convince her to postpone resigning until she wed. He had always been successful at persuading people to his way of thought.

“But how do I prevent her from marrying?”

“Simple. You court her yourself.”

Chapter 2

The glittering ballroom fluttered with people and noise. Claudia stood in a circle with Poppy, Poppy’s mother, and three of her friends. They chatted endlessly about the weather and the girls who had just been introduced into Society.

The Draper ball, while never a grand affair, not in comparison with some of the others of the Season, was well attended and nicely decorated. Rose topiaries and ferns lined the ballroom, and the wall of opened balcony doors allowed a gentle breeze to drift through the room.

Claudia sensed Poppy’s annoyance—she had sent her a note promising details of her meeting with Mr. Middleton, but a day had passed since then, and she no longer wanted to divulge every detail to Poppy. Mr. Middleton had occupied far too many thoughts over the last twenty-four hours, and it was vastly inappropriate. Claudia would not admit to that, not even to Poppy.

It mattered not now. He had left her life as quickly as he’d entered. And while she regretted not meeting him before yesterday, lamenting a missed friendship seemed silly. Besides, married women didn’t have male friends. Soon, she hoped, she could call herself a married woman. If Richard ever proposed.

Poppy looked over at her and rolled her eyes.

She smiled. As long as the others remained, they protected her from Poppy’s inquiries.

“Girls, we’re going to the refreshment table. Do you care for anything?” Poppy’s mother asked.