Prudence Pursued

by Shirley Raye Redmond

  “Oh, that’s rich!” James chuckled. “He’s scuttling about town with rocks in his pockets.” He gave a bark of laughter. “The poor man must have pebbles for brains. What a way to woo a lady!”

  Prudence snapped back, “You would recommend tiger teeth earbobs perhaps?”

  “Touché,” James said, laughing.

  His boyish grin left Prudence slightly breathless. James accepted the barb so good-naturedly Prudence allowed herself to smile back at him. The gleam of admiration she saw in his eyes did much to soothe her ruffled feathers too. Not that she needed or even wanted his admiration. Why should she?

  “Regardless of what you may think, I know the man has taken a fancy to you,” James insisted.

  “Pooh,” she said, bristling again. Even though she feared Mr. Younghughes did indeed feel a special attraction to her, Prudence did not return the sentiment nor did she want to be teased about it.

  “There, I’ve done it again, and we’re not yet out of Bath,” James said, clasping his knee with one hand. “I’ve got your bristles up.”

  “Then don’t speak nonsense to me,” Prudence insisted. “Tell me about Lady Richards’s charity school instead.”

  “If you will first tell me why Margaret seems so wary. Does she not believe my offer is sincere? Has she expressed any wishes I might fulfill?”

  “She told me she wished she had a rich grandmother,” Prudence replied primly.

  When his eyebrows arched high, she briefly explained about the tidy sum left to her by her father’s mother upon her death and Margaret’s comment about these circumstances.

  “That’s neither here nor there. I cannot provide Margaret with a rich grandmother,” he lamented. “But I have always tried to be quite honest with her.”

  “Perhaps therein lies the problem,” Prudence ventured. “I don’t know, but she seems horrified by your tales of headhunters and sword-wielding pirates and the ravenous jungle.”

  “But not you?”

  “No,” Prudence admitted, holding up her chin. “I do not scare so easily. Besides, I think you exaggerate a great deal.”

  Giving her a half smile, James said, “You see, this is exactly why I asked you to accompany me today. You’re not the least bit squeamish. I believe you must be a great one for holding your head in a crisis.”

  “I would like to think so,” Prudence admitted, “but to tell the truth, I’ve not been truly tested. One lives a rather sheltered life in a country parsonage.”

  “I like the way you say just what you are thinking,” he went on.

  Not always, she thought guiltily.

  “Margaret is reticent. It’s rather like pulling teeth to get her to share her thoughts and feelings with me. She does so only with the most reluctance,” he went on.

  “I think she does not want to encourage your attentions,” Prudence explained.

  “I suppose I should resent your saying so,” James sighed. “I still have a sneaking suspicion I have a rival for Margaret’s affections.”

  “If so, I cannot say whom it might be,” Prudence admitted. “I have pried, but even Clarissa Paige—Margaret’s closest friend—has not given any indication that Meg’s affections are engaged elsewhere.”

  “Perhaps we should look to Harry Paige for the answer,” James suggested.

  Prudence was taken aback. “What? You think Margaret would confide in Harry when she would not do so with his sister?”

  “No, pea-goose! Perhaps Harry Paige is the one Margaret has a secret attachment to,” James said with a crooked smile.

  “I don’t believe it is possible,” Prudence told him, frowning. “Would not Clarissa be aware of it?”

  “Not if Margaret has remained as close as a clam and Harry too.”

  “But it doesn’t make sense,” Prudence insisted. “If Harry felt any regard for Margaret, what has prevented him from saying so? He and Clarissa have been Margaret’s close friends for many years. She often stays with them when she is in London. There is nothing preventing Harry Paige from declaring himself. I am sure my aunt would welcome the match. He is from a good family and has a respectable income. My aunt wants Margaret to be happy. She is not a tyrant. She would not discourage a match between them.”

  Prudence frowned, aware that James was her watching her closely. “I’m sure you must be mistaken, Sir James,” she ventured again. “There can be nothing of a romantic nature between Margaret and Harry Paige.”

  James said nothing and for a long while, they maintained an awkward silence. Then Prudence changed the topic of conversation to Borneo. By the time they reached the school, she and James were both in good spirits and feeling excessively cordial toward one another. Mrs. Trimmer, the school’s headmistress, greeted them warmly, expressing her heartfelt gratitude for Sir James being willing to help with the vaccinations of the students. She appeared delighted to see he had brought an able assistant with him too. If Mrs. Trimmer thought it odd or unseemly that Miss Prudence Pentyre was an unmarried lady, she gave no indication of it. Prudence did wonder briefly if this was simply due to Mrs. Trimmer’s good manners or the more demoralizing notion: the headmistress considered Prudence too old and too plain to tempt an unmarried gentleman into any indiscretion.

  There were approximately two dozen students from the ages of eight to fourteen assembled in one of the classrooms. The girls were neatly attired in matching blue frocks and white pinafores. When the pupils stared at James’s scar, he chatted with each in turn to put them at ease. Then one of the junior staff members presented him with the quill containing the cowpox lymph and a collection of lancets.

  “Now, which one of you will be the young lady brave enough to go first?” he queried.

  The girls hesitated. Prudence removed the lid from the candy tin and announced, “There is treacle candy for each of you after you have been vaccinated.”

  This seemed to do the trick. One by one the students stepped forward to undergo the procedure. Prudence spoke soothingly to them in turn and held their arms while James made slanting incisions upon their skin with lancets wet with cowpox lymph. As he did so, he reminded Mrs. Trimmer that in a few days time, the students would come down with a mild fever followed by an outbreak of blisters, which would soon dry up. Then the scabs would fall off.

  Afterwards, when one little girl pointed to James’s scar and asked about it, he replied without embarrassment or bravado, explaining how he’d been wounded in a battle with Malay pirates. “Do you know where Malaysia is located on the map?”

  The little girl shook her head.

  This led to an impromptu geography lesson for the students. Mrs. Trimmer beamed her approval, and Prudence, listening to James’s interesting presentation, realized what a good teacher he would be. And no doubt a good father, in time. She made up her mind to mention it to Margaret. She wished Margaret could see him now at this moment, surrounded by the eager, attentive children. He took the time to patiently answer their questions about the animals he’d encountered in his travels and intrigued them with his description of a rare and lovely orchid, which gave off an aroma of rotting meat and how other orchids smelled of warm chocolate.

  “You mean like the chocolate we drink in the morning with breakfast?” one girl asked, incredulously.

  “Yes, just the same.” James made the motion of crossing his heart to assure her he did not lie.

  This gesture set the girls to giggling.

  “Sir James, how can we thank you?” Mrs. Trimmer declared. She gushed with praise, telling him he was all a good trustee should be. She went on in this manner for some time. Brownell seemed to take it all in stride, but Prudence thought she detected a flush beneath his ruddy cheeks. Could it be the man was so modest?

  When Mrs. Trimmer asked if he and Miss Pentyre would like to join them for luncheon, Prudence was surprised when he turned to her, eyebrows arched. “It is for you to say, Miss Pentyre,” he said quietly.

  Mrs. Trimmer appeared politely hopeful, while the girls wriggled with e
xcited anticipation. Prudence should have been annoyed with the man for putting her in the awkward situation. But she wasn’t annoyed at all. She realized had he come alone, he would in all likelihood have stayed to dine with the students. He was a trustee, after all. But now he seemed mindful only of her time and pleasure.

  “Let us stay,” Prudence told him, smiling. “I would enjoy it above all things.”

  Turning to Mrs. Trimmer, James said, “May we sit with the students rather than the staff and faculty? Miss Pentyre will sit across from me to make sure I mind my manners.”

  As Mrs. Trimmer tittered and led the students to the dining hall, Prudence fell in step beside him, saying in a low voice, “I am quite sure I could not make you mind your manners or anything else, come to think of it.”

  Eyes dancing with humor, he regarded her in an enigmatic way, saying, “Miss Pentyre, I believe you would be surprised.”

  Chapter Six

  The brief return journey from the charity school with the intriguing baronet was particularly enjoyable. Not once did Prudence feel the sharp rise of her bristles. In fact, she was made to feel keenly aware of how she had misjudged Sir James. True, the man was candid to a fault, and he had a teasing, confrontational manner, which could be considered abrasive. But he was also fascinating, amusing, and kind. He had a soft spot for children, which Prudence found endearing. She felt obligated to inform Margaret of the details of her outing and to urge her cousin again to consider James’s offer of marriage. She was also eager to write to her parents about the experience at the school, knowing they would be interested, particularly her father. Papa might even share it as an anecdote at his next meeting of the local chapter of the Jennerian Society.

  But before going in search of her cousin, Prudence made her way to the kitchen. Her first task, even before removing her bonnet and shawl, was to return the cook’s candy tin. She found Mrs. Higginbottom in her usual domain, surrounded by a confusion of kettles and cauldrons, copper pots and pans. The busy woman, thin as a reed, stood kneading bread dough upon a flour-covered pine worktable, placed strategically in the middle of the room. A young kitchen maid was up to her elbows in sudsy water, washing dishes. They both bobbed a curtsy when Prudence entered.

  “Thank you for indulging my whim, Mrs. Higginbottom,” Prudence said, smiling. “The pupils enjoyed your treacle candy immensely.” She need not tell the woman the candy had been unnecessary as an enticement. James’s charming manner had won the pupils over completely.

  The cook gave a brisk nod. “I am pleased to have been of service to you, Miss Prudence, and Sir James too. It’s important work—doing the vaccinating. I lost two nephews to the smallpox and my own sister, poor darling, went blind from the disease when she was but a girl.” She shook her head with sad remembrance.

  “It is little wonder so many refer to the dreaded disease as the speckled monster,” Prudence said.

  “Indeed, miss,” Mrs. Higginbottom agreed with an emphatic nod of her head.

  Prudence thanked her again and made her way upstairs. She tossed her shawl and bonnet on the foot of the bed. She tugged off her shoes, replacing them with a pair of comfortable slippers and went down the hall in search of Margaret. Her cousin, however, was not in her room. She went back downstairs and was met by her aunt coming out of the library. Noting the woman’s lopsided cap and wide, blinking eyes, Prudence gave a half smile and asked, “Did you take a nap in the library, Aunt Judith?”

  “No, dear, but a nap took me,” her aunt quipped. “I thought I heard you come in just now. I want to have a word, Prudence.”

  She made a motion with her hand for her niece to follow her into the library. This had once been Uncle Giles’s exclusive domain, Prudence recalled, and the room was still a reflection of his masculine tastes. She reflected wryly it would have been better if the man had spent more time here than in the clubs and gaming halls which had led to his family’s current financial embarrassment.

  As Judith took a seat on the large horsehair sofa, she reached out a blue-veined hand and gently tugged Prudence down beside her. “Was your mission with Sir James concluded successfully?” she asked, smiling at her. “Were all those dear little children safely vaccinated?”

  Prudence nodded and proceeded to give her aunt a detailed account of the morning’s activities and their dining experience with the pupils afterwards. Her aunt, however, appeared to listen absently, as though she was distracted or not interested. Annoyed, Prudence summarized her report, then ended it abruptly.

  Aunt Judith did not appear to notice. Still clinging to Prudence’s hand, she said,

  “Mr. Benedict Younghughes came to see you this morning. I told him you were out.”

  “Er…yes, Sir James and I saw him coming down the sidewalk as we pulled away,” Prudence admitted.

  “He has invited us to tea tomorrow,” her aunt informed her. “I accepted on your behalf. I believe it is his intention to show you his scientific specimens. He said you had expressed an interest.” Lowering her voice, she added, “I am told he has numerous human organs preserved in glass jars. I don’t believe it is quite decent, do you?”

  “What do you mean you accepted on my behalf?” Prudence asked, frowning. “Are we not to go together?”

  “Margaret cannot go,” Judith reminded her. “She is still a bit feverish, don’t you know? And I couldn’t possibly leave her alone.”

  “And I cannot possibly visit Mr. Younghughes alone either,” she insisted, distressed.

  “Certainly not,” her aunt agreed. “Mrs. Greenwood is coming for you in her carriage. She and her son and daughter-in-law have also been invited to take tea with Mr. Younghughes. You need feel no qualms in going with them. I know how much you are interested in all things scientific—although I cannot understand why. But I would not want you to miss this opportunity. Besides,” she smiled archly, “I believe Mr. Younghughes invited you most particularly. He frequently asks about you when you are absent from Bath. With a little encouragement, Pru, he might be brought around to making you an offer.”

  “I think not,” Prudence replied in quelling tones.

  “But if he did so, would you consider accepting?” Judith probed. “He would be a comfortable husband, I believe, although it is rather a shame he has no chin to speak of. Still, he has a modest competence and comes from a good although undistinguished family. You would be mistress of your own household, Prudence, and that must surely count for something.”

  Prudence lowered her gaze. She knew her aunt and even her longsuffering mother felt she was now at an age not to despise any offer, which might be made to her. Considering her advanced years, she knew if Mr. Younghughes did show a particular interest in her, she should welcome his addresses. He would be an eligible suitor, but Prudence felt nothing for the man. Indeed, she found him to be a bit boring, despite his interesting scientific pursuits.

  “Aunt Judith, I do not wish to marry. I think I do not have a romantic disposition,” she replied.

  As soon as she said it, Prudence knew it for a lie. The realization shocked her entire body like an unexpected jolt of lightning. She had been so certain of God’s plans for her life. They did not include love or marriage and children. But this visit to Bath had stirred up passions she thought she did not own. Prudence realized, after spending a day with James, she did indeed have a romantic disposition, which had nothing to do whatsoever with Benedict Younghughes.

  Prudence felt both bemused and ashamed of these newly aroused emotions. The idea she would entertain a notion of Sir James as a romantic interest when he’d so recently made an offer of marriage to her own cousin was unconscionable. Her stomach roiled with bitter despair. Desperate to change the subject, Prudence said thickly, “I think I should tell you, Aunt Judith, Margaret has confided in Clarissa Paige regarding Sir James’s offer.”

  Her aunt sighed heavily. She slumped back against the sofa cushion. “I suspected as much. How came you to find it out?”

  “I contrived to have
a private conversation with Clarissa yesterday afternoon while we were strolling on the Crescent Green. She told me Margaret had taken her into her confidence, even stating Margaret did not love Sir James and could not accept his offer.”

  Prudence went on to relate the conversation she’d had with her cousin’s closest friend. As she did so, she felt—for the first time—some deep sympathy for Margaret’s reluctance to marry a man she did not love. Pressed to contemplate the possibility of an offer from Mr. Younghughes, Prudence realized she would not accept such an offer under any circumstances. Did Margaret feel the same violent reluctance? Or was it simply immaturity, which caused her young cousin to hesitate in accepting so suitable an offer? And if it proved to be the latter, was Prudence truly obligated to convince Margaret to marry James when she now felt a growing reluctance to see the two wed to one another?

  “Clarissa also told me she felt quite certain Margaret is not harboring a secret passion for some other gentleman,” Prudence added, pushing forbidden thoughts from her mind.

  Judith tilted her head to one side and after a moment’s consideration, she replied, “Perhaps we can yet make her see reason.”

  Prudence, uncertain, said nothing. After all, how could Margaret make a reasonable decision when she didn’t know her mother’s reason for pressing her into a marriage of convenience in the first place?

  Her aunt rose from the sofa and indicated a clutter of correspondence and bills lying in untidy piles on the desk behind them. “I need to get back to what I was doing, Prudence. We’ll speak more about the matter later. I did tell you, did I not, I’m hosting a small dinner and musical evening in honor of your visit? It is all I can manage, considering my indifferent health.” She sighed heavily.

  “It is kind of you, Aunt Judith, but there is no need. I understand Lady Brownell is hosting a rout party later this week. I am certain to renew my Bath acquaintances then. Please do not go to any expense or trouble on my account.” She rose from the sofa.