Sally James

by Otherwise Engaged

  Prudence regarded the girl, who had once more dissolved into a spate of weeping. She clearly could not be left alone in the street in such a state, and no one from the house next door was visible.

  'You had best come in with us,' she said at last, both impatient with this torrent of words, and anxious to follow Netta.

  The girl, with a muffled word of thanks, followed closely on Prudence's heels as she went into the house. There she found that Miss Francis, Netta's governess, had been summoned, and was capably dealing with a pair of flustered maids, a footman who, having carried Netta indoors, did not know what else to do, and Tanner, who was hovering behind her proffering feathers and hartshorn and brandy all at once.

  'Biddy, pull yourself together and fetch a bowl of cold water and some clean rags. Agnes, fetch some towels and a pillow from Miss Netta's room. Charles, you may go, I have no further need for you. No, thank you, Tanner, no brandy. Please set the other things on this small table beside me, and if you can bring Dr Baron to me as soon as he arrives? Meanwhile, I think you had better try to ensure that Lady Frome is not disturbed with the news until after we have the doctor's diagnosis. We do not wish her to suffer undue anxiety. Ah, Netta, my child, lie still. No, don't attempt to sit up. You have been hit on the head and must lie quietly until the doctor has examined you. Who is this? And what is that dog doing here!'

  'Oh, I beg your pardon,' the girl said in a whisper. 'Is she going to be all right? It was all my fault! Or rather the fault of naughty Fifi here. She ran out of the house, you see, and startled the horses. My name is Charlotte Ashley. We've just come to live next door, and Fifi isn't used to town traffic. Oh, I do hope she will be all right!'

  'I am sure she will. But she ought to be kept quiet. Ah, Biddy, thank you. Put the bowl here. Prudence, my dear, I think that Miss Ashley ought to go back home now. They may be puzzled at her absence. I will send for you if I need any further assistance.'

  Prudence, seeing that Netta was recovering her senses, nodded and drew the still agitated and protesting Charlotte out of the room.

  'I feel so very responsible!' she was gasping, and seemed inclined to dissolve once more into tears. Prudence spoke hastily to avert this.

  'It was an accident, you could not help it. I think you should go home now and lie down to calm yourself.'

  'But I should not have a moment's peace until I knew that she was better!'

  'Why don't you call later today and ask how she is?' she suggested, and Charlotte, a smile breaking over her face, nodded eagerly.

  'Yes, I'll do that. Oh, I do hope that we shall be friends. What is your name?'

  'I'm sorry. I'm Prudence Lee, and she is my cousin, Netta Frome. You have just come to town, I believe?'

  'Yes, I've never been before. Mama says it is time Emily – Emma, I mean, and I found husbands,' she confided with a shy smile.

  'Emma? Is she your sister?'

  'No, I've no brothers or sisters, and Mama is not my real mother. She died when I was born. Papa married again two years ago, and Emily – Emma, that is, is Mama's daughter. She is much older than I am, four and twenty. Papa died a year ago,' she added wistfully, and Prudence felt a surge of sympathy for her.

  'My parents died years ago,' she said briskly. 'I am fortunate to live with my aunt and uncle. Now I think you ought to go home in case anyone is wondering where you are, but do come back later when I can tell you how Netta is.'

  Charlotte nodded, and with a shy smile ran down the steps and towards the next house, where she plied the knocker gently. Prudence waited to ensure that she was admitted and then, seeing Doctor Baron approaching in his barouche, waited for him and escorted him to the morning room.

  He examined Netta's head, where the lump was already the size of an egg, and then cheerfully told her that she would be as right as rain in a day or so.

  'But you must take this dose and then stay in bed for today, and I will come and see you again tomorrow before you get up,' he said sternly.

  Netta, unusually pale, smiled and promised to be a model patient. Charles was summoned to carry her upstairs, and Prudence went with her to administer the medicine, tuck her up in bed, and sit with her until she dropped into a doze.

  By this time Lady Frome had been informed by her excited maid of the calamity, and declaring the news had disturbed her too much for her to stir out of bed that day, was demanding Prudence's presence in order to hear how it had occurred.

  'Charlotte Ashley!' she exclaimed. 'I wonder if it can be Lady Mottesford who has taken the house? Ashley is her name. Did the child mention her family?'

  'She said her parents were both dead, her papa a year since, and that he married again two years ago,' Prudence said.

  'It certainly sounds like them. I wonder what Lady Mottesford is like? No one knows anything about her, where she comes from, or what family. I suppose I must call on her when I am able to get about. How tedious. Now go and see how my poor Netta is, dear Prudence. I must rest, it has been so agitating.'

  Two hours later Charlotte reappeared, full of renewed apologies, to ask how Netta was. When Prudence told her Netta was still asleep, she was clearly not reassured, and her lamentations were beginning to try Prudence's patience. It was with relief that she heard Tanner announcing Sarah and Mrs Buxton had called, and remembered her promise to walk in the Park with them.

  They came up to the drawing room and Charlotte was introduced. When the accident had been explained to them, and Prudence apologised for not being ready to walk out with them, Sarah, taking pity on Charlotte's obvious embarrassment, suggested she joined them if her mama permitted.

  Half an hour later the four ladies were sauntering in the Park, the two younger ones together while the elders waved to some acquaintances and stopped to talk to others.

  'Do you know many people?' Charlotte asked rather timidly.

  'Not very many,' Prudence admitted ruefully. 'It's my first Season, too.'

  'I'm not looking forward to all the parties,' Charlotte confessed, 'but Mama says I have to find a husband this year because she will not be able to afford another Season. Papa left most of his money to my cousin, the new Lord Mottesford, you know.'

  'I suppose the estates were entailed,' Prudence said cheerfully.

  'Oh, no. Just Trelawn Manor and a few farms, which was the original estate. Papa had a great deal more, but Mama said he believed that his heir should have most of his fortune. He left me my portion,' she added with a slight sigh, 'and I have some money from my own mother, but I don't think it is very much.'

  'Don't you know?' Prudence asked, startled at Charlotte's odd mixture of ignorance and sophistication.

  Everyone knew the Season was organised mainly for girls to contract suitable marriages, but most girls did not talk so openly about the necessity of finding a husband. Yet most of them knew exactly how large their portions were, and how much inducement it could be for prospective husbands.

  'Mama says it is not enough to attract a fortune hunter, or anyone important,' she replied now. 'Prudence,' she added hesitantly, 'do you believe love always comes after marriage?'

  'Why should it?' Prudence asked bluntly. 'I can imagine some matches where it does, when perhaps people have not known one another well beforehand, but not always. If you thoroughly disliked someone, for instance, I do not see how marriage to them would alter that. I should think it would increase the dislike.'

  'Yes, that is what I thought, despite what Mama says,' Charlotte said with a slight sigh, and Prudence eyed her with some concern. Already she was beginning to feel a protective sympathy for Charlotte, who seemed so gentle and so unprepared for the rigours of a London Season.

  'Well, you are very pretty and should have no difficulty in attracting a man who will love you,' she said bracingly, and then, when Sarah dropped back to walk with Charlotte, joined Mrs Buxton and spent the time with her commenting on all the latest fashions.

  The following day Prudence and her aunt returned from a visit to their dressmaker to
find that Lady Mottesford had left her card.

  'I must be neighbourly,' Lady Frome said with a slight sigh, 'although I cannot feel any enthusiasm yet for visiting or entertaining. Not until poor dear Netta has completely recovered.'

  'Doctor Baron said she was much better and could get up tomorrow,' Prudence reminded her. 'There is no lasting harm.'

  'I must invite them to our small dance next week. I will leave cards tomorrow, and perhaps I can visit during the next few days. Will you send the invitation, my dear?'

  Prudence, accustomed to dealing with her aunt's correspondence, duly sent off the invitations and received Lady Mottesford's acceptance. But when Lady Frome called a couple of days later she was informed that Charlotte's mama was indisposed, and unable to leave her room, and her daughter Emma was unfortunately out.

  'Oh, dear, it is most irregular, not having met her,' she sighed the evening before the dance. 'I wonder if she will come?'

  'Charlotte says she is much better and looking forward to it,' Prudence consoled her.

  She was far too busy supervising all the arrangements, Lady Frome complaining she was really too exhausted to do everything herself, to give much thought to Charlotte and her mama, and was curt even with Sarah when the latter called on her way to another party.

  'Bring another man?' she asked. 'By all means, bring as many as you like. Aunt Lavinia has been complaining all week that town is still too thin of company, and there are always too few men willing to dance, most of them preferring the card room. Like Augustus,' she added.

  'Pru, that's unfair. Just because he wouldn't dance at that ghastly local assembly at Christmas. Besides, Augustus isn't in town or I'd make him do his duty and dance with you.'

  'Of course, with all this fuss I'd forgotten. I'm sorry, how is his father?'

  Sarah sighed. 'It varies. Every time he rallies and we think perhaps the crisis is over, so that Augustus can leave him for a few days, he has a relapse the following day.'

  She departed then and Prudence at last found time to try on her ballgown, a simple, white satin dress with a silver gauze overskirt, that her aunt's maid, a skilled needlewoman, was making some slight adjustments to.

  She did not need Netta's appreciative comments to know she looked charming the next evening. Slightly flushed with the excitement of her first real London party, her eyes sparkling and her lips moist and red, she patted the silver ribbon threaded through her curls, fastened the double row of pearls about her neck, and picked up the fan encrusted with seed pearls.

  When the first guests arrived, Prudence stood beside her aunt at the top of the stairs to greet them, wondering somewhat bemusedly whether she would ever remember all the names of these strangers. There seemed very few young people of her own age, and when she saw Charlotte in the hall below she smiled brightly at her, grateful for youthful company.

  Then the smile froze on her face as she saw the two women ascending the stairs, Charlotte meekly walking one step behind.

  The older woman wore a gown of puce silk, deeply décolleté, and in a skimpy style which would have suited a slender girl of eighteen but was a disaster as it clung to her own opulent curves. Several diamond necklaces adorned the vast expanse of her bosom.

  Her hands, which she was extending towards Lady Frome, were large and red, and the massive stones in the half dozen rings she wore could not disguise the rough skin. Nor could the heavy paint hide the wrinkles on her neck and face, or her smile, which revealed several decayed teeth, disguise the deeply scored lines of discontent about her nose and mouth.

  'My dear Lady Lavinia!' she exclaimed in a loud, harsh voice which caused Lady Frome to shudder and blink rapidly several times in order to regain her composure. 'How exceedingly kind of you to invite me and my gals to your little party. I am exceedingly gratified, I do assure you. Mark my words, Emma, I said, with Lady Lavinia as our friend we shall soon be on the best of terms with all the town. This is Emma, Lady Lavinia, my daughter by my first. And you know dear little Charlotte, not my own flesh and blood, more's the pity, she's my second's child. But she's a good little puss, and is a great friend of my Emma. Say how d'ye do to Lady Lavinia, Emma. And this is Sir Dudley, I presume? I've heard a great deal about you, you naughty man!' she said, tapping the speechless Sir Dudley archly on the wrist with a large fan made out of what, to Prudence's astonished gaze, seemed to be ostrich feathers.

  Somehow Lady Frome uttered a faint reply, and Lady Mottesford passed on, beaming widely about her, into the drawing room. Prudence had time to notice that Emma, dressed in white muslin with inappropriately delicate, pink and blue and lemon bows dotted all over it, had hard black eyes at variance with the youthfulness of her gown. Poor Charlotte, she thought, with such a frightful stepmother and sister.

  Then when the dancing began Prudence's attention was caught by the sight of Sarah entering the room, accompanied by two men.

  She stumbled, and rather breathlessly apologised to her partner.

  'You're pale,' he remarked. 'Have you seen a ghost?'

  'I hope not,' she replied with a laugh, and as soon as the dance ended made her way to her uncle's side.

  'Who is that with Sarah?' she asked urgently.

  'With Sarah? The fair one is Edward Gregory, who is one of Augustus's friends,' he replied. 'The other is Richard Ashley, the new Lord Mottesford. I wonder if he knows yet that his aunt is here?' he added with a slight laugh. 'How on earth did she persuade Lavinia to invite her? I doubt if anyone else will even notice such a vulgar creature.'

  Prudence did not reply. She was wondering desperately where she could hide as Lord Mottesford, who had a wager with his friend that he could break her heart, approached her with slow determination.

  Chapter 3

  'Miss Lee, you will grant me this dance?' he stated rather than asked, and before Prudence could answer had taken her hand, tucked it under his elbow, and led her away. Her attempt to drag her hand away was foiled by his unyielding grip, and without a deplorable scene she knew she could not, for the moment, escape him.

  Lord Mottesford, outwardly oblivious to the impotent fury which overwhelmed her, was chatting unconcernedly. He talked about the people in town, the clemency of the April weather, and finally, with a wickedly attractive smile said how delighted he was to meet her.

  Fortunately for Prudence's composure, the musicians then struck up and they took their places in the set dance.

  During it she desperately tried to decide what would be her best ploy. Should she announce at once that she knew of the wager, or keep silent and when he felt sure of winning his bet, disillusion him by delivering the coup de grace?

  Rather to her chagrin he gave her no opportunity to reveal her decision, for immediately the dance finished he thanked her briefly, walked across with her to where Lady Frome was chatting with some old friend, and smilingly took his leave.

  'That dreadful creature!' Lady Frome exclaimed when the guests had all departed, and neither her husband nor her niece had any doubts about the direction of her thoughts.

  'You didn't have to dance with her even more dreadful daughter,' Sir Dudley pointed out with a faint laugh. 'I shall ask to be excused from your future parties, my love.'

  'Dudley, you can't!' his love wailed shrilly.

  'But if they are to be present, and everyone else pointedly ignores the wretched female, I must as host pay some attention to her,' he said patiently. 'Why the deuce did you ever invite them in the first place?'

  'It was all a despicable trick to wheedle her way in,' Lady Frome replied angrily. 'They must have called when we were out on purpose, and made certain we did not meet when I returned the call. Indisposed, indeed! They had to be sure of getting the invitation before anyone set eyes on them.'

  'I think that's unlikely,' Prudence said slowly. 'Do you think she even realises how vulgar she is? If she did she would surely behave differently.'

  'I doubt she knows how, but she could be sure she would not be able to meet anyone without some tri
ckery! Never mind, I shall refuse to see her if she calls, or notice her if I meet her outside. I will not be bamboozled into recognising her!'

  'Somehow, my love, I suspect she has a stronger will than you, and a greater determination to get her own way. They'll be like vultures now, especially as they live next door. You'll not be able to avoid them.'

  'It's poor Charlotte I feel sorry for,' Prudence said. 'She is rather silly, but from what I hear of her father he probably neglected her dreadfully, and she has never been taught the proper way to go on. Yet one can see she is well bred, with natural good manners, and was suffering agonies of embarrassment at their behaviour.'

  'She's pretty, but in a vapid sort of way. Unless she has a fortune she is unlikely to make a good match with that harridan behind her. Pru, you are not to encourage her. I've no doubt the scheming woman is relying on forcing the poor child in here, and hoping to follow.'

  'Her cousin, Lord Mottesford, ought to help introduce her to the right people,' Sir Dudley remarked. 'Pity he's not married, or his wife could take over.'

  'He's not likely to be married from what Sarah said. He's worth ten thousand a year even before what goes with the title, and girls have been on the catch for him for years, whenever he's been on leave. He has a reputation as a flirt but there has never been anything serious. Don't pin your hopes on him, Pru,' her aunt added warningly.

  'I won't, I think he's a detestable man!' Prudence replied, and soon afterwards took herself off to bed.

  Detestable or not, she tossed and turned, unable to rid her mind of his image. He was tall, so that she had to crane her neck to look up at him. Slim of figure, he nevertheless had iron hard muscles, as she had discovered both when trying to prevent him from chastising Harry, and when he had forcibly kept her at his side.

  His face was thin and intelligent, with finely-drawn eyebrows above deep-set brown eyes, prominent cheekbones and a determined chin. His face swam before her eyes however hard she closed them in her attempt to blot it from her mind.