Cousin Prudence Page 7

  That Hester spoke her mind concerning Emma looking fatigued after a long day’s shopping and declared that if she knew what was what then poor Mrs Emma was in a condition that should not be fatigued, Emma permitted the good woman to hustle her to bed with a bowl of good oatmeal porridge well sweetened and milky – Hester had no time for gruel – and a dish of tea.

  George slipped Hester a good gratuity for actually getting Emma to rest.

  “More than I can manage,” he said.

  “Eeh, Mr George, tha’s but a man, sithee,” said Hester kindly.

  George did have more influence on Emma than he had joked about to Hester; and he had noticed how quickly – for her – the long day shopping had pulled her.

  He had a long and serious talk with Emma and extracted from her a promise to take things at a reasonable pace for fear of overdoing things and then missing out on fun.

  Emma always took her husband’s words seriously; and she knew that she had lied to him by her actions, laughing gaily when she was already wishing she might rest. The day was a lesson to her; and whatever her faults, Emma always learned from the mistakes she made; and confessed, a little tearfully to her husband how she had lived a lie for the last hour or two.

  George freely forgave her; so long as she promised not to do it again.

  Emma was glad to do so.

  With a less frenetic sightseeing regime, Emma was soon quite back to her effervescent self; and the family greatly enjoyed the solemn service on Good Friday and the joyous one on Easter Sunday. And if the main enjoyment that Mr Alver had was in sitting near to and able to watch the beloved Emma then that at least brought him pleasure even if he kept losing his place in the service and once absently said ‘AMEN’ in a too loud voice in the middle of a prayer.

  Fortunately the Bishop conducting the service was used to fashionable young men with more religious fervour for their appearance and impressing ladies than for the ceremony and he was ignored.

  Mr Alver was however much embarrassed and kept apologising until Emma said,

  “I pray you will not refine so much upon the incident, Mr Alver; it is a well known fact that men find the way that some vicars speak quite soporific; you will not be the first man of my acquaintance to have dozed off and lost track of the service.”

  Mr Alver was nonplussed; he did not wish the object of his veneration to think that he had dozed off and ceased gazing upon her adored countenance but nor did he wish to be thought the sort of boor who would not listen. And he did not quite know how to explain that he had lost the thread of what the Bishop was saying because of the dear little curl of golden hair that had escaped from Emma’s coiffure that he longed to tuck back. He sighed softly.

  “I know old man,” said George, gently, “it is hard to concentrate on anything else is it not?”

  “Sir! You know?” Mr Alver was horrified. “Are – are you very angry? Will you tell my uncle?”

  “Arthur – if I may presume, as an older man to so call you – I cannot fault your taste,” said George, “and I know that you are a gentleman and will not reveal your feelings to her such as would embarrass her. How can I blame you? I am not angry. I should be angry if by word or deed you did anything to upset her. As to telling your uncle, I fancy Lord Alverston, who knows you well, is very well aware.”

  Arthur flushed.

  “I have never felt this way before sir!” he said in an anguished tone “And that I should feel thus for a married lady! You are very good; and – and I shall never betray your trust in me to be proper in all ways, and never to upset that darling angel! Sometimes my feelings threaten to overwhelm me!”

  “Then may I suggest,” said George, “that you should express them in poetry, written down and kept to yourself, but some relief even so to put your heart into words.”

  “Mr Knightley you are very wise!” said Arthur.

  George hid a smile. At least the young puppy had not got as far as writing execrable sonnets of his own accord to Emma’s azure eyes; and who might say, turning his passion to prose might even prompt him to produce some memorable poetry.

  On the other hand, he was more likely to turn out as much rubbish as any youth who fancied himself in love; but it would keep him from pouring out his heart to poor Emma who was too kind hearted to be anything but hurt in discouraging him.

  Chapter 13

  Emma was noticeably less than her sunny self in the mornings at the moment and Prudence decided that she need not trouble her friend to escort her to make a purchase she just had to have – a length of ribbon to match a trim she was adding to a gown of hers that she had torn and wished for some way to disguise the tear.

  She collected Hester.

  “Eeh, lass, if tha’ll ask me, it’s reet improper t’go out to Bond Street alone,” said Hester.

  “Well I’m not alone, am I?” retorted Prudence “I have you with me.”

  Hester tutted; but sighed and got her bonnet. Miss Pru was quite capable of taking into her head to go without any escort; and Joseph was no help as he must needs keep the chaise ready to come home in, walking the horses so they would not take cold. The day was foggy as it seemed to be so often of late, a curiously dry fog, and the sun a red and unprepossessing orb through it.

  Prudence soon found that Bond Street without an obvious male escort like George was a different proposition on her own. Those ladies with apparent footmen to carry their purchases, or husbands or fathers, even obvious dowager mothers, met with no inconvenience; whereas Prudence became the object of observation for a number of men dressed – or overdressed – in the height of fashion who gazed at her through quizzing glasses.

  The one who came out of a door almost level with her and put his arm around her waist made Prudence give a little cry.

  “Come now, pretty wench do not be startled,” said the man, well into middle years and creaking at the waist from his much needed Cumberland corset, “You look to be short of an escort; and I am happy to oblige.”

  Prudence was not frozen with inaction for long.

  She turned towards him – at which he leered – and slapped him across the face as hard as she could.

  He gave a cry of shock and fell back.

  “Miss Blenkinsop,”

  She recognised the sardonic voice.

  “Alverston!” she gasped in relief.

  “You appear to have lost your chaperone,” said Alverston, “might I offer you my arm and protection?”

  “I – thank you,” said Prudence taking the proffered arm, “that was a most unpleasant experience.”

  “But my good girl, what did you expect in Bond Street?” drawled Alverston “This is the haunt of the Bond Street Beau after all; where are Mr and Mrs Knightley?”

  “I seem to have found less a Bond Street Beau and more a Bond Street Bogey-man,” said Prudence, “I did not wish to disturb them; Emma is a trifle indisposed and of course I would not disturb George, but I wished to effect some repairs to a gown…. I beg your pardon, I am babbling.”

  “You little idiot!” said Alverston.

  “Well My Lord,” said Prudence, with some asperity, “you are one of the few people who might with justice use a word like ‘little’ in relation to me; but on what grounds do you call me idiot?”

  “For not realising, you green little widgeon, that this is London and it is not a safe place like Harrogate or whatever is your nearest large town,” said Alverston viciously. “I will accompany you to make your purchase and I will see you back home.”

  “I do thank you for coming to my aid sir, but there is no need to put yourself out,” said Prudence stiffly.

  “There is every reason!” said Alverston “A girl without

  protection might be given any kind of insult; and your maid unable to do a thing. That old roué is but one! Slow, and easily disconcerted! What if two or three of the likes of those ones over there wished to make sport of you?”

  “Those Bartholomew Babies?” said Prudence in scorn “Why would they want
to make game of me? And – surely he was intoxicated to wish to lay hands on me?”

  Alverston laughed. It was not a pleasant laugh.

  “No you silly girl. He was not intoxicated – well not more than usual – and you are not safe alone. Just trust me.”

  Prudence was debating whether he was being overbearing or whether he had a point when one of the dandies called out,

  “Hey, Alverston, why should you get the lightskirt? Leave us a few!”

  “Excuse me,” said Alverston, thrusting Prudence rudely into a shop doorway. He walked with a few incisive steps to the man who had made the remark and floored him with a neat left to the chin. He spoke to the open mouthed companion of the now unconscious wag.

  “When he comes to,” he said, “tell him I don’t like remarks like that about the greener of my country connections who don’t yet know what’s what. If he wishes to seek me out I shall be happy to meet him in Hyde Park at his convenience.”

  He strode away.

  “That was what I think they call a wisty castor,” said Prudence, trying to sound intelligent. He blinked.

  “They might well; you, my girl, on the other hand, should never be referring to such things by any terms,” he said. “Well you ain’t swooning anyhow.”

  “Why should I?” said Prudence “It’s a fairly pointless thing to do. Did you actually offer to fight a duel over my honour? And did he just imply what I THINK he implied about me?”

  “Yes on both counts,” snapped the marquess “Now let us purchase your necessary requirements and leave.”

  He was pleasantly surprised in how quickly Prudence made her purchase, knowing exactly what she wanted and not dithering in the haberdasher’s shop. He took her arm to see her back to the chaise, Hester following quietly behind.

  “I’m sorry to cause you trouble,” said Prudence as she offered her hand to take leave of him, “I didn’t know that it would not be sufficient escort to have only my maid. I have been accustomed to go anywhere with either Hester or Joseph you know; especially as I have been running the house since I was scarce in double figures.”

  “You were ill named,” said Alverston, “Prudence is the last thing you display! Running your father’s house in provincial Yorkshire is one thing, but here you are nothing but a green girl!”

  “So you said, sir; several times,” said Prudence with spirit, “and you have made your point that I was uninformed and foolish in making assumptions! But there is no need to ring a peal over me like that, as though I were your nephew! I accept your criticism; and I thank you for your defence of me, and I hope that fribble won’t want to duel with you, though I should think unless he’s got more hair than wit he should realise that it’s probably a bad idea to fight a man sure enough of himself to suggest it.”

  Alverston grinned.

  “I am accounted fair with a sword and deadly with pistols,” he said. “And my weight’s on my side with sword. And I should not even be discussing this with a lady!”

  “We had established my lack of ability to swoon,” said Prudence tentatively.

  “So we had,” said Alverston. “He won’t fight. But in honour I had to offer to meet him if he did want to. And speaking of honour, I want you to give me your word of honour not to go gallivanting around unattended again.”

  “Not that it’s any of your business to demand it,” said Prudence with asperity.

  He put a long, hard finger under her chin and turned her face up to regard him. He seemed very large suddenly to Prudence.

  “Oh but it is my business, Miss Blenkinsop,” he said, “I have retrieved your honour; so something of it belongs to me.”

  She considered that, wondering why her knees seemed quite shaky all of a sudden; and she put out a hand to lean on the chaise.

  “In which case I give you my word,” she said, “unless an emergency arises that all in the house are ill and I must seek out a doctor, or some such.”

  He laughed.

  “Well you may be unwomanly in your lack of the vapours but you are womanly enough to make a qualification of a promise; and honest enough too,” he added. “I will see you at the assembly tonight?”

  There was a public assembly that evening which the Knightleys and Prudence were to attend, another reason for leaving Emma to rest.

  “Yes My Lord, if you are to attend,” said Prudence, “and you may judge the efficacy of the way I use my purchases.”

  “I shall look out for the ribbon; I am sure I shall recognise the colour,” said Alverston, handing her into the coach.

  Prudence lay back in the seat with a sigh of relief; and as the chaise bowled away remarked to Hester,

  “I feel quite done up, Hester! I fear the unpleasantness has taken it out of me; I am quite weak at the knees!”

  “Eeh, well, that's as may be,” said Hester, “happen ‘twere something quite different had that effect, think on”

  “Why Hester, what can you mean?” asked Prudence.

  Hester gave an eloquent but not very helpful sniff and got out her knitting from her capacious reticule.

  “Happen,” she said, “It was His Lordship gave you that feeling and sithee, it’s t’ way to return by weeping cross.”

  Chapter 14

  The organisers of the public Ball were perhaps as disconcerted as flattered that the Marquess of Alverston had applied for a ticket; and were happy to supply him with one. There may perhaps have been some private misgivings that a Pink of the Ton might be intending to amuse himself by, in some respect, causing mayhem at the ball; and the thought – perhaps in some relief – that he would be unlikely to turn up until a fashionably late hour in any case.

  Alverston turned up at the unfashionably early hour of nine thirty; at which point Prudence had already started to assume that something had prevented him from coming and was telling herself that she had no reason to be disappointed because after all, he was nothing but an occasional chance acquaintance to whom she owed a number of favours that more than outweighed their initial rather stormy meeting.

  She had therefore been determinedly enjoying herself and had given up expecting him when he arrived at her elbow with a rather terse

  “Do you dance Miss Blenkinsop?”

  This so tickled her sense of the ridiculous that she gave a gurgle of mirth.

  “My Lord, if I did not, I should be rather foolish to attend a ball would I not?” she said.

  “Well we already established that you can be foolish on occasion,” said Alverston cheerfully, “I believe that was my point.”

  “Were we then playing for points?” asked Prudence “I do like to know the rules when I play games.”

  “The rule is, you do what I tell you and dance with me,” said Alverston.

  “You are quite the rudest and most overbearing man I have ever met,” said Prudence as she obediently took his hand, “in your speech that is; and paradoxically kind in your actions.”

  “Madam, you have wounded me to the quick,” said Alverston solemnly. Prudence glanced up; his eyes were twinkling, “I cannot possibly permit you to spoil my reputation by calling me kind.”

  She chuckled.

  “Then I shall endeavour to tell everyone that you are rag-mannered, ill of temper and a positive ogre,” she said.

  “Is that anything like a er bogey-man?” he asked.

  “Certainly not!” declared Prudence “A bogey-man is decidedly unpleasant, one who will do anything to hurt people; an ogre is merely a bad tempered giant that eats people. Have you forgotten all the fairy stories your nurse read you?”

  “Apparently,” said Alverston. “Thank you for the fine distinction. You are very good with the fine distinctions; that was merely a set-down not a desire to insult me, I perceive it now.”

  “Quite so, My Lord,” said Prudence demurely.

  “And may I say, if you had not told me that you would be wearing the gown with the ribbon that you purchased, I should not have known it was anything but a new gown trimmed purposefully
,” Alverston added, glancing down at the spray of orange and apricot ribbon flowers that decorated the skirt of the sage green muslin gown. It was, after all, Prudence’s favourite colour. “You are very skilled – and I have to say nimble to have achieved such in so short a time – to make those flowers.”

  Prudence flushed, pleased.

  “Thank you My Lord; it is one of the few needlework accomplishments in which I excel more than my maid; for Hester is vastly better than I at most embroidery, knitting and other crafts. And the speed of execution is because I made the flowers and she sewed them on. ”

  “And you did not have to tell me that either,” he said. “How did it come to be damaged?”

  She gave a rueful laugh.

  “Oh this foolish green girl stood on the skirt because I was trying it on, and there was someone at the door and I ran downstairs, and fell over my own skirt because I am not used yet to Cousin John’s steep staircase; for George was out and I thought Emma might wish some support if it were Mr Alver – not that she needs support, but it is to protect his good name as well as hers. It was but the tickets for this evening being delivered so I was quite cross with myself!” she added. “And then I had to spend the rest of the day darning it; and I might either choose another or decorate it to hide the rent. Which was why I went shopping this morning. I had enough ribbon over – I thought I should – to put a spray on the bodice as well which makes it look more as though it were meant to be. I can’t abide waste, you know; and I have not yet worn this gown save to try it on.”

  “My Aunt Mouser will approve of you mightily,” he said, “Lady Katherine Fotheringill to give her the proper appellation; she’s bringing Kitty out as the poor child’s mother died a few years ago.”

  “I must ask you all about Miss Fairlees and why you call your Aunt such a name as Mouser only the dance is ending and it is to be a waltz next,” said Prudence, “and Emma says I must sit waltzes out until I am invited to dance them at Almack’s lest I be thought fast.”