Lisa Cach - Wish List

"Really?" he asked, running his hand up her thigh to her hip. "Convince me."

"A doll just like the one in Werster's window. That's what I want for Christmas."

Prudence smiled slightly at her sister's words as the younger girl hugged their mother and kissed her good-night. Charlotte had been making her wishes known for weeks now, and Prudence and her mother had been working very hard at making a similar doll for her for most of that time. The doll itself was finished, though not completely satisfactorily. They were not professionals at the job, but they had done the best they could. Charlotte was a good girl, though; she would love it no matter its imperfections. Especially since they were making tiny little dresses for the doll that matched each of the girl's own gowns. Prudence was positive the child would be pleased.

"Goodnight, Pru!"

She gave a grunt as her younger sister launched herself at her, hugging her hard before spinning away to rush out of the room. Prudence watched the little whirlwind go with affection, then glanced at her mother, frowning when she saw the unhappiness on her mother's face as she peered out the window.

"What would you like for Christmas, Mother?" she asked after a moment, hoping to distract her from whatever thoughts troubled her. Meg Prescott remained silent, so Prudence moved to her side to peer out and see what distracted her so.

Outside, two men stood on the front stoop arguing with Bentley. The last of their male retainers, the older man served as butler, valet, stablemaster, and anything else that was required. His wife, Alice, was their last female servant. The two did their best to keep the house running as smoothly as possible, but if things did not soon change, even they would have to be released. Prudence watched sadly as the older man doggedly shook his head and finally sent the two men on their way.

"Creditors," she muttered with disgust as she watched them go, though who the disgust was for she couldn't say. She could hardly blame anyone for attempting to get funds owed them. If her father would just-

"All I want for Christmas is for your father to stop his gambling before he sees us in debtor's prison."

Prudence glanced at her mother's strained face. Apparently she had heard the question after all. Her gaze returned to the two men as they went through the front gate and pulled it closed with an angry clang. Creditors were starting to arrive at the door every day now. And there were a lot of them. Her father, of course, was never available. When he was home, he was sleeping off the drink from the night before. When he was awake, he wasn't home but off drinking and gambling them closer to ruin. Bentley had managed to turn away the creditors so far, but soon they would not be brushed off. Debtor's prison was becoming a very real possibility. Why could her father not see what he was doing?

She glanced at her mother again and felt her heart tighten at the weary grief on her face. Things had been bad since Pru's brother John had died in a carriage accident. He had belonged to the Four Horsemen's club, where the sons of nobility went to race carriages they really didn't have the skill to drive. He had died when his carriage lost a wheel and he'd been sent flying into a tree and broke his neck. That was when their father, Edward Prescott, had started to drink and gamble. He had taken the loss of his oldest child and only son poorly.

"That is all I want for Christmas," her mother said now. "And I pray to God for it every day."

For a moment Prudence felt sadness weigh her down; then she grimly straightened her shoulders. Her mother was of the old school, where a wife did not question her husband or his behavior. Prudence was of the firm belief that when the husband was destroying his family, someone needed to alert him to the matter. Besides, it had always been her opinion that God helped those who helped themselves. Which left it up to her to see if she could not help God wrap this Christmas wish up for her mother.

Prudence accepted the hack driver's assistance to alight, paid him, then turned to stare at the front of Ballard's. The building was clean and stately looking, with windows on every level. It looked like a home. No one seeing it would know that it was a gaming hell where men gambled away their lives and the lives of the family members they were supposed to love.

Prudence blew an irritated breath out as her conscience pricked her. She supposed calling it a gaming hell was not being quite fair. There were no Captain Sharpes here waiting to cheat the gamblers who frequented the establishment. This was, by all accounts, an honest concern. But it was not a private club either. Membership was not necessary to enter. However, it did only cater to better-quality patrons. Proper decorum and a certain caliber of dress were required to enter, as well as the desire to stay and gamble your life away.

Fingers tightening around the handle of her umbrella, Prudence scowled at the building, then glanced to the main door and the three men entering. Two men, she corrected herself. The third appeared to be the doorman. He nodded, held the door for the other two, then closed it and settled in, arms crossed over his barrel-like chest, an intimidating expression on his face.

Prudence felt her heart sink. She very much suspected that the man was not going to let her enter. It might not be a private club, but that didn't mean women were any more welcome. Except as servants, she amended. Prudence had heard that Lord Stockton, the owner, had taken the innovative step of hiring female servants to serve the food and drink that persuaded clients to stay longer and lose more money. But those were the only women welcome inside.

Nay, the man guarding the door would not be eager to allow her entry. To be honest, Pru wasn't enthusiastic about the idea herself. It certainly wouldn't do her reputation any good. Not that there was much to worry about. She, her mother, and her whole family had already been as good as ruined-or would be the moment it was revealed the depths to which her father's gambling had brought them.

It would be only a matter of time, she thought unhappily. The rumors and gossip were already beginning to flow. The difference in the way the ton in general responded to the Prescott family was already notable. They were starting to distance themselves, not shunning the family openly yet- that would wait until the rumors and gossip were proven true-but invitations to balls had all but stopped and no one spoke to them at those they did attend. Pru supposed that was why her mother now prayed that her father would stop before they were in debtor's prison and not before the family was ruined. It was too late for the latter.

Still, it was one thing for her father to see them ruined, quite another for Prudence to throw her reputation away, which was what she was doing with this visit. But this was the only way she could think of to get to see her father. Talking to him at home would have been easier, of course, but Edward Prescott had developed the inconvenient habit of leaving the house the moment he awoke each day, leaving his daughter little opportunity to speak to him. Perhaps that was why he did it.

The hack she had hired to get her here began to pull away, the clip-clop of the horses' hooves drawing her from her thoughts.

Standing about staring up at the building like a scared ninny would not get the task done, she reprimanded herself. Action was what was needed! Straightening her shoulders, she forced her chin up and marched forward.

Prudence hadn't really considered how she would get past the doorman zealously guarding Ballard's entrance, but taking him by surprise seemed her best chance. That being the case, she started out walking parallel to the building as if she meant to walk past it. She moved at a quick clip, as quickly as the slippery walk allowed. It had been unseasonably warm and had rained earlier, which was why she had her umbrella with her. But the temperature was dropping now that night had fallen and ice was forming, making walking treacherous.

She waited till the very last moment; then, when she was directly in front of the entrance, Prudence veered sharply to the right and straight for the doors. She nearly smiled upon seeing that the man was distracted talking to a new arrival and that her path was clear. Tasting victory, she picked up her speed and barreled ahead. That speed almost saw her tumbling backward onto her fanny when the doorman suddenly stepped into her path. He was a solid wall of human flesh, and Prudence crashed into him, the air rushing out of her with an "oomph," then bounced backward, grabbing frantically for something, anything, to keep her feet. She ended up with a handful of his shirtfront clutched in one hand, the other waving her closed umbrella rather wildly as she fought to regain her balance.

"Ain't no women allowed."

Prudence grimaced at the growled announcement as she found her footing. Releasing her hold on the man's shirt, she took a step back, tipping her head up. Way up. The man was huge. Unnaturally tall, she decided as her neck began to complain at the distance it was being forced backward. Finally able to focus on his face, she forced her prettiest smile.

"Good evening."

His already smallish eyes went even smaller, signifying unpleasant suspicion in his bulldoggish face. "Evenin'."

"I am sorry to trouble you, sir, and I do realize that ladies are not generally allowed inside. However-"

"Never."

"Never?" she asked warily.