Prudence, not wanting to give away any secrets, simply asked, “Has Sir James shown a particular interest in my cousin Margaret?”
Dorothea lowered her lashes. “I am no longer a green girl, and I am quite observant. I believe he has shown a marked interest in Margaret these past several weeks. Does she fancy herself in love with him?”
“Not in the least,” Prudence replied, shoulders slumping. “And this is the problem. My aunt would welcome a match between them. She has invited me to Bath for the express purpose of encouraging my cousin to accept him as a suitor. On the other hand, Margaret wishes me to seek out a scandal involving Sir James so her mother might give up the notion.”
“Oh, I see,” Dorothea replied, nodding with understanding.
“I know I can trust you to be discreet,” Prudence went on. “I also know, as you have just said, you are an observant person. So I must ask if you have any reason to believe Margaret may have a tendre for someone?”
Dorothea arched her eyebrows. “I cannot say,” she admitted. “Since Arthur arrived with the purpose of recovering his health, I have not been out much, except for the occasional excursion here to the Pump Room and one or two private concerts and dinner parties. I have declined most of the invitations I’ve received so I might stay at home with Arthur and Eleanor.”
Prudence nodded, feeling mildly dismayed. Who else could she trust to be both open with her and discreet with others where Margaret was concerned?
“But if you are worried at all about Sir James being scandalous, you need not, I think,” Dorothea hastened to assure her. “I know he seems a devil-may-care individual, but he does not drink to excess nor does he gamble. Nor, from what I have heard, does he interest himself in…,” she paused, a frown crinkling her forehead.
Prudence chuckled. “I suppose you are going to tell me he shows no interest in the petticoat line.”
“Prudence!” Dorothea exclaimed, with a reproving frown. “Young ladies shouldn’t speak of such things.”
“I am hardly young any longer,” Prudence pointed out.
Dorothea rolled her eyes before saying, “For all his brusque ways, Sir James is an honorable man with a passion for missions. He spoke quite ardently on the subject at our church service a few months ago. He plans to take a missionary back to Borneo with him when he returns. Arthur thinks the world of him. I must admit the man has been so kind and considerate these past weeks, taking Arthur to the baths and sending Lady Brownell’s physician to look in on him now and again.”
At that moment, Prudence noticed the arrival of Sir James and his mother. Sitting up straighter in her chair, she watched several people move forward to greet the newcomers. Glancing around, Prudence leaned closer to Dorothea, asking, “What do you know of Stalwood? Is the estate in disrepair? Margaret says Sir James is spending quite a lot of money seeing to the roof and the drains.”
Dorothea chuckled softly. “The estate is quite fine indeed. Lady Brownell resides there when she is not in Bath. Sir James is wealthy, as you must know. He can afford to keep his place just the way it should be. As Arthur would say, the man is in the lard—so he can afford to be both charitable and a good steward of his properties.”
Prudence sighed. No scandal. No skeleton in the closet. On the one hand, she felt pleased by the good report about Sir James. On the other hand, she knew it would not please her cousin, who was seeking any excuse to reject the gentleman’s marriage proposal.
“If Sir James is indeed pursuing Margaret with marriage in mind, and she is reluctant to accept him, I do not see how you can be expected to persuade her,” Dorothea said, taking another stoic sip of the celebrated waters.
Watching her, Prudence wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know either. My aunt seems to think I can and should do something to influence Margaret’s decision. Meg is not a stubborn girl, but she will not be pushed,” Prudence told her. She thought again of the ounce or two of steel James had mentioned previously. “If the truth be told, I do not like to meddle and would not have Meg marry a man she could not love.”
“When it comes right down to it, your aunt would not want that either,” Dorothea assured her. “Can you not influence Margaret without meddling?”
“But how?”
“I don’t know,” Dorothea confessed. “I shall have to think upon the matter.”
Prudence shrugged, recalling what her aunt had confided regarding her late uncle’s gambling debts. If Margaret was told of this shameful situation, she would submit to her mother’s wishes, Prudence felt certain. Margaret was not unreasonable. She was responsible and proud. Wasn’t she?
Glancing across the room at her cousin, Prudence noticed how James had made his way to her cousin’s side. When he spoke something in Margaret’s ear, which made her cousin laugh, Prudence felt a stab of curiosity. She felt something else too she couldn’t quite identify, something dangerously akin to jealousy. What had the man said to amuse Margaret so?
“Dorothea, did you know my Uncle Giles at all well?” Prudence asked, pulling her gaze away from the conversing couple.
“Not as well as I know your aunt. Mr. Leyes seldom attended church services. Nor was he active in any benevolent societies your aunt and I participate in. I saw him occasionally at the theater or other social functions. That is all.”
“I realize now I did not know my uncle well either,” Prudence told her.
Dorothea regarded her with some sympathy. “You must have become recently aware of his excessive gambling.”
Prudence stiffened. “You knew? Is it not dreadful? Are you shocked? I certainly am.”
“Everyone knew, I fear,” Dorothea said with a sad shake of her head.
“Margaret does not know,” Prudence contradicted. “Aunt Judith told me there are debts yet to be paid.” She’d hesitated briefly before admitting this, but she’d only promised her aunt not to discuss the fact with Margaret. Dorothea was a close and trustworthy friend. Prudence knew she could rely on her discretion.
“I am sorry to hear it, but I am not surprised,” Dorothea replied. “Unfortunately, gaming is popular with so many gentlemen. I imagine many of them have debts to pay also. Sadly, it is the state of morals in our country.”
“Please, say nothing of this to Margaret,” Prudence asked. “And do not mention to my aunt we have discussed the matter.”
“Dear Pru, you can trust me,” Dorothea assured her, giving Prudence’s arm a gentle squeeze.
Prudence nodded her thanks. “So, now you may understand why Aunt Judith wants to encourage Margaret to marry Sir James.” In a lower voice, she added, “If Margaret accepts his hand in marriage, he has kindly offered to settle all of Uncle Giles’s debts, which apparently are considerable.”
“So there has been an offer!” Dorothea exclaimed quietly, her eyes sparkling. “How romantic! And how kind of Sir James! I told you he was a good man. It is only natural he would wish to free Margaret and her mother from any financial encumbrances. He is so generous.”
“Still, I am loath to push Margaret into a marriage with a man she cannot love,” Prudence insisted.
“Cannot or does not? There is a difference,” her friend pointed out. “Perhaps in time she will come to love him. All marriages are not love matches, as you must know. Many couples marry for convenience sake. Later, they learn to love one another in a romantic way.”
Before Prudence could respond, Mr. Benedict Younghughes approached. He had been hovering nearby for some time, and Prudence had been attempting not to catch his glance. But when she looked up momentarily to see what James and Margaret were doing, her eyes locked with Mr. Younghughes’s. He straightened, striding forward to greet her. No—he did not stride. He lurched toward her on thin, bowed legs. The gentleman was known about Bath for his eccentric interest in fossils, geology, and natural history. He had a broad forehead, a bold nose, and a small button of a mouth which seemed permanently puckered when he did not smile. He had a mild squint too, and his receding chin appeared to simply
drop off his face. His thinning hair was sticky with pomade, and as he was not a tall man, one could not help but smell its sickly sweet aroma.
Prudence clasped Dorothea by the wrist, giving it a firm squeeze. “Mr. Younghughes,” she hissed, hoping her old friend would not desert her now. She didn’t want to be left alone with the man. Prudence had long suspected the eccentric scholar had a special interest in her. He always made an effort to seek her out at various social events and often called upon her when she visited her aunt in Bath. Usually, she made an effort to avoid him. But now, having been accosted by him in the public Pump Room, civility demanded she speak with him.
“Good morning, Miss Pentyre. How nice to see you again,” he said, executing a slight bow. “And you as well, Mrs. Greenwood.” Turning again to Prudence, he went on, “I had heard you were visiting Bath once again and had determined to call upon you at your aunt’s home as soon as possible. But,” he raised both hands in a gesture of delight, “but here you are!”
“Yes, here I am,” Prudence replied, mustering a polite smile.
“If I may say so, you are looking in high bloom too.” His small button mouth puckered with pleasure. “Don’t you agree, Mrs. Greenwood?"
“I said so myself just the other day,” Dorothea replied, giving Prudence a teasing glance.
As the color crept warmly into her cheeks, Prudence hastened to change the subject. “So tell us, Mr. Younghughes, have you added any new specimens to your diverse collection of fossils and natural wonders?”
Younghughes nodded vigorously. “Yes, indeed! A stuffed camel, as a matter of fact. Perhaps you will do me the honor of taking tea with me some afternoon so I might show it off to you? Mrs. Greenwood, I will invite you as well, if you are interested in such things. And we shall invite Mrs. Leyes and Miss Margaret Leyes too.”
His glance strayed then toward Margaret, who was still conversing in a surprisingly animated fashion with Sir James. Younghughes lowered his voice, saying, “I have noticed recently how your cousin has attracted the gentleman’s most particular attention.” He indicated Brownell with a tilt of his small chin.
Prudence hesitated, exchanging a warning glance with Dorothea. “I cannot say, having only recently arrived in Bath,” she answered.
“I admit I do not care for the man. Too much bravado,” Younghughes said with a disapproving sniff. “He does not so much smile as he bares his teeth at one. I sometimes suppose he is gnashing his teeth at me.” He appeared to shudder.
“Oh no, Mr. Younghughes, you cannot mean it!” Dorothea declared with an amused titter.
Prudence, who had never tittered in her life, merely frowned at him. She was surprised by Mr. Younghughes’s animosity. Aunt Judith had assured her James was popular with everyone in Bath society. Her glance strayed once again in his direction. She didn’t think James was so bad. He did not gnash his teeth. He had a nice smile actually—a transforming smile. It made him appear so much younger and more amiable.
Prudence suddenly felt annoyed with Mr. Younghughes for disparaging him to her. But before she could say anything in Brownell’s defense, Dorothea did so. “Sir James is quite captivating, I assure you,” she insisted. “And he always behaves with proper decorum.”
Younghughes acknowledged this with the slightest tilt of his head, but he puckered his small mouth even tighter, making it seem quite small indeed.
“And yet, you do not like the man?” Prudence pursued, addressing Younghughes. “Do you not feel sorry for Sir James, at least a little?” she asked, curious. “His health has been seriously affected by his battle injuries. Anyone can see it is so. He may never fully recover.”
“I cannot like him,” Younghughes confessed. “If I must praise him, I will say he has not let all the attention and adulation go to his head. Brownell is quite the hero in London, or so I am told. But he is much too restless for polite society. He seems to have an insatiable thirst for action and devilment--despite his battle wounds and injured health.”
While he continued to give a catalog of Brownell’s many faults, Dorothea drifted away, leaving Prudence alone with her admirer. As Mr. Younghughes clearly desired to stroll around the Pump Room, Prudence reluctantly walked with him. When they approached near the clutter of chairs where James engaged Margaret and her mother in conversation, Younghughes commented, “Yes, I believe he is particular in his attentions to your cousin. Do you think his suit will prosper? Most would claim it to be a great match. Sir James is quite handsomely set up, I am told.”
Lost in private thoughts of her own, Prudence failed to utter a word.
Misunderstanding her silence, Younghughes declared, “Ah, Miss Pentyre, you do not like him either!” His eyes lit with interest.
“When I first met him, I did not know what to make of him,” Prudence admitted. “But my aunt assures me he is quite popular, and Mrs. Greenwood says he has been kindness itself to her son, the Reverend Arthur Greenwood.” Pausing, she added, “For my part, I must admit, I find him diverting.”
James glanced up then. Seeing her with Benedict Younghughes, he acknowledged them both with the arch of an eyebrow and the slightest inclination of his head. This was followed by one of his lazy smiles, which caused Prudence to feel a mild flutter of excitement in her chest. Younghughes stiffened. Quickening his stride, he moved away in the opposite direction, steering Prudence by the elbow.
“Keep him and your young cousin under your eye,” Younghughes warned her when they were well away. “Truly, Miss Pentyre, I feel I should caution you about the man’s low and peculiar tastes.”
Her pulse quickening, Prudence wondered if now she would learn something scandalous about the gentleman everyone had been praising. Did he have a penchant for such low sports as cock fighting? Bull baiting?
“Brownell has embraced many progressive ideas and participates in unseemly activities,” Younghughes continued, glancing over his should as he did so.
“Such as?” she prompted.
“He is quite chummy with many of the more militant abolitionists, I fear. He is a supporter of such radical organizations as Mr. Wilberforce’s Society for the Suppression of Vice—among others.”
Prudence was momentarily taken aback. “But Mr. Younghughes, my own father…”
“Be warned, Miss Pentyre, I beg of you,” Younghughes interrupted. “Sir James Brownell is a dangerous man!”
Chapter Five
On Sunday afternoon following church services, Prudence made up one of a small party intent on taking Arthur Greenwood on a walk. The doctor had told the recuperating vicar he should increase his exercise and his exposure to fresh air. Nothing as strenuous as tramping to Beechen Cliff, of course, but a half hour ramble on the green slopes in front of the Royal Crescent had been deemed most suitable. Arthur was accompanied by his wife Eleanor, who clung to his arm with warm affection. Sir James, Clarissa and Margaret joined them, as did Prudence, who reveled in the warm summer sunshine, and was thankful the weather had at last become more seasonable. There would be no need of fires in the hearth this day.
Upon their return, when Sir James offered his arm to Margaret and the Greenwoods fell in behind the uneasy couple, Prudence contrived to have a private talk with Clarissa. Prudence paused to watch a bird preening, allowing the two couples to precede them down the path. She didn’t want the Greenwoods to overhear her conversation, and she certainly did not want Margaret and Sir James to be privy to it either.
“Clarissa, I am happy for this opportunity to have a private word with you.” She emphasized the word private.
Clarissa appeared slightly fluttered. Glancing at her cousin’s closest friend, Prudence thought she noticed a sudden wariness about Clarissa’s eyes too. However, the younger lady rallied, asking with a shy smile, “Is it a secret that you wish to share with me?”
“It may well be a secret,” Prudence replied lightly, “but if so, you must be the one to tell me.” Seeing the puzzlement on Clarissa’s face, she added in a quiet voice, “I know you an
d Margaret are the best of friends, so I am certain she has confided in you about Sir James’s offer of marriage.”
Appearing slightly discomposed, Clarissa hesitated before saying, “Margaret did mention he has made her an offer, but she has not accepted it. I believe the matter is not generally known.”
Prudence nodded, inwardly pleased with herself. She’d been right. If Margaret had a confidant to whom she revealed her most intimate secrets, it was surely Clarissa Paige. “So it is a secret of sorts, isn’t it? Has Margaret confided in you her thoughts regarding his proposal? Does she plan to accept his offer?”
Clarissa, biting her lower lip, appeared troubled. “Miss Pentyre,” she began.
“Prudence, please!” she insisted, giving Clarissa’s arm a squeeze.
“Yes, Prudence,” Clarissa said with a shy half smile. “I hesitate to tell you any more. Margaret did share her thoughts with me in strictest confidence. Surely, you understand. As I just mentioned, the proposal is not yet generally known, and I believe both Margaret and Mrs. Leyes would like to see it stays that way until Margaret makes up her mind, one way or another.”
“I do realize I have placed you in an awkward situation. I do not mean to,” Prudence said. “I’ll admit both my aunt and I are at a loss to know why Margaret is hesitating. My cousin does not have feelings of affection for Sir James. She told me so herself. In fact, she appears to have little regard for him either. I had hoped she might have confided in you regarding her reluctance. You need have no scruples in telling me. Margaret has been somewhat candid with me on the subject.”
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