'What is it?' she demanded, as Netta, panting, halted beside the curricle.
'Charlotte! She gave James this note to give to either me or you. They were leaving, all of them, and Hubert, and there was another coach piled high with baggage,' Netta gasped, thrusting a screw of paper into Prudence's hand.
Prudence paled, and hastily straightened the note.
'Lady Mottesford found a copy of Charlotte's letter to Edward, and is taking her down to Devon,' she said blankly. 'She will force her to marry Hubert as soon as they reach Trelawn Manor. No! She must not! I must stop her!'
Chapter 9
'If you please!'
Lord Mottesford calmly took the note from Prudence and swiftly scanned it. She scarcely noticed, her thoughts intent on devising a means to avert this calamity.
'What is so important about this note to Edward?' he asked curtly.
Prudence stared at him, for the moment uncomprehending, but Netta answered.
'He offered for her, and her mama refused him, saying she was already promised to the hateful Hubert! And it wasn't true, at least Charlotte had not agreed to it. Why, she did not even know he had offered, just that her mama wanted them to marry. Poor Charlotte, how will she bear it?'
'She won't. I must help her, but how can I get to her?' Prudence fretted. 'Oh, if only we had run away when we first thought of the scheme!'
'Run away?' Netta demanded, her eyes widening. 'Oh, Pru, you were planning to run away with Charlotte and you never told me!'
Lord Mottesford ignored this.
'When did they leave? How long ago?' he asked sharply, and Netta turned back to him eagerly.
'Will you chase them?' she demanded. 'Oh, can I come with you? Will you challenge Hubert to a duel?'
'Yes, no and no,' he replied impatiently. 'For pity's sake, child, answer me if you want to help Charlotte!'
Netta gulped. 'It was about an hour ago,' she said in a small, subdued voice. 'I came to find Pru as soon as I knew about it. You see, James and Harry were playing cricket, and they did not come in at once. And I had been in the schoolroom with Miss Francis so I did not actually see them leave. Do you think you can catch them?'
'They will travel slowly, I should be able to come up with them by the second stage, and bring Charlotte back to town tonight.'
Netta grinned. 'Well, even if you don't have a duel with Hubert I hope you draw his cork,' she said with bloodthirsty anticipation.
'Thank you. I will do my utmost to satisfy your ideas of vengeance! Now will you please do something for me, Prudence? Edward is due back this morning. Can you see him and explain, and ask him to follow me. The Staines and Bagshot road, though I ought to have come up with them long before then.'
'No. I'm coming with you.'
'Of course you cannot! Don't be ridiculous!' Lord Mottesford exclaimed, but Prudence turned to him, a pleading look in her eye.
'Pray consider! Charlotte will be alone, so terrified! She will need someone she trusts. And if you maintain we can be back in town by this evening, what harm can there be?'
He gave her a long, searching look, then nodded.
'Netta, can you take your maid and visit Mr Gregory, show him Charlotte's note, and tell him what we're doing?' he asked briskly and Netta, thrilled with taking part in such exciting events, nodded eagerly. Lord Mottesford told her the address, made sure both she and Biddy knew how to find it, and with a cheerful wave turned his curricle and set off in the direction of Kensington.
Relieved to have crossed this first hurdle, Prudence remained silent as, without appearing to hasten, Lord Mottesford threaded his way through the fashionable strollers, nodding occasionally to friends, but resisting all invitations to halt, until they left the Park. Then he urged his chestnuts, a magnificently powerful pair, into a gallop until they reached the small village and had to slow down to negotiate the narrow main street.
Once past the houses he let the chestnuts have their heads. They were fresh and eager, and soon the curricle was bowling along, delayed only when they had to pause before overtaking the slower carts and coaches. Prudence sat quietly, admiring his skill with the ribbons, and merely holding on to the curricle for support when he feather-edged a corner or cut in between a huge lumbering coach and a wagon coming the other way, with only inches to spare.
When they reached more open road he glanced across at her, a smile of amusement on his face.
'You appear to have been in Charlotte's confidence. When did Edward make his offer?'
'A few days ago, the morning after the masquerade,' Prudence replied, blushing as she recalled the various embarrassing happenings there. 'Lady Mottesford told him Charlotte was already promised to Hubert. I still cannot understand it,' she added in a puzzled manner.
'And this plan to run away?'
'She has a friend, a former governess, who would have helped her. She was planning to go to her and I said I would accompany her on the stage, pretending to be her maid, because I could not have let her travel on her own. But she wanted to tell Edward herself and, as he has been out of town, we could not contrive to meet him.'
'Could Lady Mottesford have had wind of this plot?' he asked, his tone amused.
'It is unlikely, for we told no one else. But why should she suddenly take it into her head to travel all the way to Devon?'
'Her objectives so far as Emma was concerned had been achieved, and to remain in town would have been expensive. My aunt does not enjoy spending money, except on herself,' he added drily, and Prudence cast a swift look at his face. He was staring straight ahead and she could detect nothing in his expression. He went on, 'As for Charlotte, her presence was necessary to obtain entry into the ton, but I imagine all along she intended her nephew to marry the chit.'
'But why?' Prudence exclaimed. 'Charlotte has so small a fortune, that could not have been Hubert's motive. And as I understand it they had not met before she came to town, so he could not have fallen in love with her before. Not that such a creature could ever love anyone but himself!' she added caustically.
'Did Charlotte tell you her fortune was small?' he asked. 'Does she know exactly what it is?'
'She had no idea, but her mama told her it was not enough to attract anyone. And that there was only enough income from it to buy a few dresses, which is why Charlotte was always so shabbily dressed and had almost no pin money! Lady Mottesford would hardly be willing to spend any of her own money on the poor child, and even though she complains you inherited almost everything as well as what was entailed, she must have had a considerable sum from what Charlotte has said!'
He was silent for a moment while he negotiated a tricky bend and overtook a chaise. Then he glanced at Prudence.
'My late uncle's widow has been busy,' he commented. 'I understand Lady Mottesford has control over Charlotte's money until she is married, or reaches the age of thirty. She cannot touch the principal, which is vested in Charlotte from her own mother, but she must be removing a considerable proportion of the interest each year, as well as the three of them living on it.'
'You mean Charlotte is wealthy and does not know it?' Prudence gasped.
'She inherited forty thousand from her mother,' he replied evenly. 'Plus the accumulated interest, for her father was a miser with her money as well as his own, and while he had control over it spent as little as possible.'
Prudence was gasping. 'Why, she is an heiress! So that is why the wretched woman is so determined to marry her to Hubert, to keep the money in her own family. Probably she would not even then allow Charlotte to know what her fortune was, and with Hubert's connivance they would be able to use it themselves! Oh, how wicked!'
'Apart from her mother's money, which he had no power over for his own disposal, and the single estate of Trelawn Manor, which was entailed, her father left everything to Lady Mottesford. And he was worth far more than forty thousand!'
Prudence stared at him in speechless amazement, and for several minutes remained silent, thinking of the enormi
ty of the deceit which her stepmother had practised on Charlotte.
'Oh, they are wicked! How can people be so avaricious, so deceitful? They deserve to be thrown into the vilest prison there is!' she exclaimed after a while.
'Unfortunately, despicable and unfair though we consider it, she is within her rights,' he replied evenly. 'She inherited my uncle's money quite legally, and as well as being named Charlotte's guardian was given sole control over her fortune.'
Prudence had recalled suddenly that he was himself betrothed to Emma, however much he had been trapped into it, and she eyed him speculatively. Was he hoping to acquire some of his late uncle's money through such a marriage, or would he repudiate the engagement, she wondered, and then firmly advised herself not to think about that. He could not wish to marry her. Whatever had been his motive for renewing his proposal on the night of the masquerade her vehement refusal of it must have driven him away.
She sighed, and this time it was Lord Mottesford who glanced curiously at her, although he did not speak.
They lapsed into silence while he concentrated on driving, and Prudence began to devise plans for Charlotte's rescue. He paused briefly at the first major posting house to make inquiries and discovered the equipage had indeed halted there about forty minutes earlier. Lady Mottesford, with her usual talent for attracting attention, was recalled by a grinning ostler who informed them how she had loudly demanded the landlord in person bring her and her companions glasses of ratafia. When that worthy, preoccupied in dealing with travellers from a mail coach which had arrived seconds before, delegated this task to an underling, Lady Mottesford had declared her intention never again to patronise the inn.
'And good riddance, for ne'er a groat did she gi' us!' he finished, eyeing the guinea Lord Mottesford was fingering.
'Did they say where they would change next?' he asked the man, but the ostler shook his head.
'Don't suppose they knew theirselves. But they might stop to bait at the Swan in Staines.'
'My thanks.'
Lord Mottesford tossed him the coin, and swung out of the yard.
'Good, we're catching up with them, they are not travelling particularly swiftly. I expect they are planning to take three days on the journey, and stay the first night at Andover.'
They crossed the river, but Lord Mottesford did not halt to make any further inquiries now they knew they were on the right road. His chestnuts performed magnificently for two stages, and when he stopped to change them he left strict instructions for their care and promised to send his groom to collect them on the following day.
He also insisted on pausing to take some refreshments, although Prudence, becoming anxious, would have pressed on.
'Ten minutes will make little difference. Come, a slice of pie and a glass of wine will revive you.'
The new pair, bays, were the best that could be had, but they were by no means so fast as the chestnuts. Their speed fell considerably, and when Lord Mottesford halted at Bagshot he learned Lady Mottesford's chaise had passed through fifteen minutes earlier.
Several miles farther on they entered the pretty village of Hartney Witney, and Prudence exclaimed as she saw a post chaise standing outside a small inn facing the village green.
Lord Mottesford drew up the sweating bays and tossed the reins to an ostler, telling him to wait until he had been inside the inn.
Prudence scrambled down after him, certain they had found their quarry.
As she followed Lord Mottesford into the inn she heard the sound of a loud, querulous voice and the high-pitched whine of a woman. She found herself in a dark, stone-flagged passageway with doors to either side. Lord Mottesford was standing just inside the doorway, and Prudence squeezed into the space beside him in order to see what was causing the commotion.
Hubert, his many-caped cloak almost filling the passageway, was haranguing the innkeeper. This was a small wiry man who was standing in an open doorway at the end of the passage, through which Prudence caught glimpses of a huge kitchen. Behind Hubert, wringing her hands in anxiety, was a skinny woman, not much more than a girl, who punctuated Hubert's tirade with frantic assertions that she hadn't done anything.
At that moment, before Hubert was aware of the newcomers, Lady Mottesford appeared in the doorway to the left of the passage.
'What is the delay? Hurry, fellow, I want a nuncheon straight away. I'm swooning with lack of food after hours in a chaise!'
'I'm just explainin' to that nodcock,' the innkeeper said angrily, jerking his head in Hubert's direction, 'that it takes time to roast a capon or a turkey. You're welcome to a slice of cold ham, or beef, or an omelette, and I've plenty of pies, but that's all I can do unless you're willin' to wait!'
'Bring what you can, fellow,' Lady Mottesford said curtly. 'Hubert, there's no use arguing with yokels, they don't cater for the quality in these rustic hovels.'
'Good day to you,' Lord Mottesford interrupted quietly as she turned to step back inside the room, and Lady Mottesford swung round, her mouth open in astonishment.
'My – my lord! What are you doing here?' she gasped, clutching at the neck of her pale blue pelisse as if to give herself more air.
'That is something I need to ask you,' he replied smoothly. 'But in private, I think,' he added, moving forward so purposefully that she gave way before him. Prudence swiftly followed them through into a small coffee room, which looked even smaller as he dominated it.
'Here, what the devil is this?' Hubert demanded, recovering from his astonishment and rushing in after them.
'Prudence!' Charlotte shrieked, as she dropped Fifi, which she had been clutching to her, and rose from the stool where she had been crouching to run across the room and fling herself into her friend's arms, bursting into tears as she did so.
'Dicky!' Emma exclaimed, her initial look of apprehension changing to a coy simper as she rose from the windowseat and tripped across the room towards him.
He turned to look at her, his eyes hard and cold, and she paused, then laughed slightly.
'Do let us all be comfortable,' she urged. 'Dicky, come and sit beside me. It is such a delightful surprise to see you, although I cannot imagine what Miss Lee is doing with you?'
'Can't you, by gad!' Hubert muttered, then stepped back hastily as Lord Mottesford swung round towards him, his hands clenched.
'Keep your thoughts to yourself, puppy! Now, your ladyship, I wish to know why you left town so hurriedly?' he added, turning back to where Lady Mottesford, arms akimbo, stood facing him across the door.
'I don't have to answer to you,' she was beginning heatedly when Emma, casting a placating look towards Lord Mottesford, caught her hand.
'Mama, no doubt Dicky was worried about me,' she said urgently, but her words were unheeded.
'I am Charlotte's guardian,' her mama was saying truculently, 'and no-one has the right to dictate to me what arrangements I make for her.'
'What arrangements have you made, may I ask?' Lord Mottesford asked smoothly.
'I – she's to wed my nephew,' was the reply.
'This – er – tailor's dummy?' Lord Mottesford asked with studied insolence.
'I demand satisfaction for that insult!' Hubert shouted, but his aunt shouted more loudly.
'There's no cause, my lord, for you to sneer, or for anyone to say it's an unequal match. Hubert's papa is in a very nice way of business, I'll have you know, and Hubert will inherit that. And if Charlotte's papa can marry me, there's no call for you or anyone to turn your nose up at Hubert!'
'You may in law be Charlotte's guardian, but as head of the family, I intend to exercise my right to ensure she is not forced into any match against her will! Do you wish to marry this creature?' he asked, turning to Charlotte, who was sobbing quietly in Prudence's arms.
'Of course not!' she hiccuped, 'I want to marry Edward!'
'Then you shall, so dry your eyes now, and I will take you back to London until it can be arranged.'
'So that's it!' Hubert, frust
rated at being ignored, suddenly exclaimed. 'That fellow Gregory's a pal of yours, isn't he, and no doubt you're planning on getting Charlotte's fortune for him!'
'I haven't any fortune!' Charlotte was beginning, but Lord Mottesford's voice cut across hers.
'I'd sooner he have it than see you fritter it away, as no doubt you would. I've been told of your expensive tastes, in women as well as clothes! A pity you don't look better for all the blunt you drop!'
'Why, you – you – '
Words failed Hubert, and he suddenly leaped forward, his arms flailing, aiming punches wildly at Lord Mottesford's head.
Charlotte, Emma and Lady Mottesford shrieked in unison, Fifi barked deliriously, Prudence stepped back swiftly, out of range, pulling Charlotte with her, and Lord Mottesford, with what seemed to the bemused watchers no more than a slight jab with his left fist at Hubert's jaw, sent him crashing senseless to the floor just as the landlord, carrying an enormous tray, flung open the door and entered the room.
Chapter 10
Ten minutes later order had been restored. Hubert sat on a settle beside the fireplace nursing his jaw, casting darkling glances at Lord Mottesford, but uttering nothing. Lady Mottesford had finally run out of abusive remarks which for the first few minutes she had hurled nonstop at his lordship, and was seated at the table where the landlord had finally deposited the food. Prudence and Charlotte sat together on the windowseat, as far removed from the others as possible, Fifi fast asleep on Charlotte's lap, and gently snoring, while Emma, also seated at the table, looked admiringly up at her betrothed.
Lord Mottesford, who had stood unmoved while the storm about him had raged, looked sardonically at Hubert then turned slowly towards Charlotte.
'I understand you do not know what your fortune is,' he said quietly.
'It is not fitting for young girls to be involved in such matters,' Lady Mottesford said hastily. 'Time enough for that when they are old enough to understand, and not waste it.'
Sally James Page 8