Prudence Pursued

by Shirley Raye Redmond

  She followed his gaze and observed her cousin chatting amiably with Clarissa, Robert Ludlow and Amelia Butterworth. Margaret positively glowed in the young man’s presence. Dorothea seemed to have drifted away in the swell of guests.

  “He is Mr. Robert Ludlow,” Prudence told him, “visiting his grandmother here in Bath. He’s a great friend of Harry’s, or so I am told.”

  James raised an inquiring brow. As if he’d been reading her mind, he asked, “Do you think he is the one who sets her heart to fluttering? He is but a mere school boy!”

  “I don’t think he could be,” Prudence admitted. “Mr. Ludlow lacks dash. But then I don’t know for certain. Margaret has not taken me into her confidence. I’ve probed and hinted and made a guess or two, but she is quite closed-lipped. I have toyed with the disturbing notion I shall wake up one morning to find Aunt Judith in hysterics, clutching a hastily scribbled letter informing her Margaret has eloped in the night with her secret love.”

  James chuckled as he placed his cup of lemonade on a small side table. “I don’t think you need to worry about it now. Margaret no longer has a reason to flee. She has thrown me over and is free to love where she will. Besides, it takes quite a bit of planning and preparation to successfully elope. The young cub doesn’t look capable of the task.”

  “How would you know, sir? About the planning of an elopement, I mean?”

  “I have no personal experience, you understand,” James replied, grinning. “But I am told it takes considerable forethought. I am not so adventurous. I cannot imagine tossing a lady across my saddle and riding off with her to the Border.”

  “Now you are quizzing me!” Prudence declared, with a tinkle of laughter. “You strike me as just the sort who would do such a thing.”

  “Never, Miss Pentyre.” James shook his head. “My dear mama would never forgive me.”

  For some reason, the glint in his eye both annoyed Prudence and thrilled her a little too. She couldn’t say why. Before she could respond, he changed the subject.

  “Where is Mr. Benjamin Longnose this evening?”

  When Prudence regarded him with a puzzled expression, James added, “The ardent gentleman you were having a heated discussion with in the Pump Room previously.”

  “You mean Mr. Benedict Younghughes,” she corrected him. “Did Lady Brownell invite him for this evening?”

  “Did she not invite all of Bath?” James queried, surveying the crowded rooms.

  Straightening, Prudence said, “I hope I do not encounter him here. I have no desire to continue the argument.”

  “I am guessing it has something to do with Mrs. Eleanor Greenwood’s desire to have Arthur’s young heir vaccinated with the cowpox?” He tilted his head, giving her a look of inquiry.

  Prudence nodded. “Mr. Younghughes declared it repulsive and ungodly to vaccinate children with matter from diseased animals. He warned me and Eleanor against being charmed by you and again labeled you as a dangerous man with dangerous ideas.”

  “The absurd little bagpipe,” James muttered, a twinkle in his eye. “If he does show his face here tonight, shall I punch him in the nose?”

  “Of course not!” Prudence declared. She was not all certain James was teasing. “It will only confirm his opinion of you—that you are quite dangerous.”

  Mr. Amos Hunter approached them then, accompanied by a stout gentleman with rolls of fat at the back of his bald head, which appeared to connect his thick neck to the base of his skull. James greeted them with friendly regard and made them known to Prudence.

  “I have met Mr. Hunter already,” she said, smiling and shaking his hand. “I am happy to renew the acquaintance.” The stout gentleman was introduced as Mr. William Alfredson.

  Mr. Hunter begged forgiveness for the intrusion but insisted upon having a word with Sir James regarding a pair of matching chestnut mares. “Brownell, I believe you said you were looking for such a pair,” Hunter reminded him. “There’s an acquaintance of mine here this evening looking to sell his. Are you interested?”

  “I am,” Brownell replied. Turning to Prudence and Alfredson, he said, “If you’ll excuse me, I do wish to discuss horseflesh with Hunter’s friend. I trust I leave you in good hands, Miss Pentyre.”

  “Are you a naturalist as well, Mr. Alfredson?” Prudence inquired politely, when finding herself alone with the new acquaintance. She watched James’s retreating figure with a slight feeling of desolation.

  “An amateur one with a keen interest in taxidermy—a skill that Sir James required of me during his last voyage to the East,” the stout man told her.

  Intrigued, Prudence pressed him for further information about his travels with Sir James, which Alfredson readily supplied. She learned he was a widower who had accompanied Sir James on his most recent voyage. His task had been to preserve deceased birds and other fauna for the purpose of exhibition upon their return to England.

  “I spent some six months with Sir James, and I can tell you with all sincerity, Miss Pentyre, they were the most thrilling months of my life. He even took the time to guide me through the jungles to collect beetles and insects, my particular passion. We spent days trekking through the dense foliage, sometimes along precipitous mountain slopes. We were attacked by mosquitoes, plagued by the punishing heat and in constant danger of poisonous snakes lurking behind every crackling leaf.”

  “It sounds intolerable,” Prudence said, surprised by the man’s lighthearted tone.

  Alfredson nodded. “I suppose it was,” he admitted. “But it was thrilling too. High adventure! I cannot hope to make you understand. But let me assure you the experience led me to have great admiration for Sir James.”

  “You are not alone in your admiration,” Prudence replied, nodding. How many others had confided the same to her in the past several weeks?

  “He is a rajah, don’t you know?”

  “So I’ve been told,” she said. “But I’m not quite sure what it entails.”

  “He has twenty thousand people in his charge, ma’am. Some of them are headhunters, don’t you know? He has quite a way with them too—it’s a marvel.” He nodded with approval, his bald head glistening with perspiration. “Brownell convinced them to give up their taking of human heads. He didn’t order them to. He reasoned with them and requested they desist for his sake, and they have. He has a sound wisdom and is not one of those popinjay gentlemen who do not know the value of hard work. Brownell is a natural born diplomat too, with the cunning of a Jesuit,” Alfredson added with a wink. “I believe Sir James genuinely likes the Dyaks and that is why he is predisposed to take command of them. They are a handsome people, the Dyaks. But their living conditions are sadly primitive. I daresay you would be appalled if you knew the extent of it.”

  “Who is in charge while Sir James is recovering his health here in Bath?” Prudence asked. “Surely, it is someone who can maintain the peace and stability Sir James has established?”

  “Spencer’s the name,” Alfredson replied, stroking his chin. “A competent man, by all accounts. Sadly disfigured by the small pox, don’t you know, but full of energy and fiercely loyal to Sir James. He can trust Spencer to do everything as he would have done himself. The man will administer justice, put down pirate raids and keep law and order. When Brownell returns, he’ll have the satisfaction of finding everything just as he left it.”

  Stroking his chin, Alfredson added, “Of course, he cannot take into account floods, drought and outbreaks of the plague. Acts of God, don’t you know?”

  Acts of God? Peevishly, Prudence wondered why the Almighty was always so promptly blamed for every catastrophe and so seldom given credit for an abundance of blessings.

  Alfredson leaned toward her, lowering his voice as he confided, “It is my understanding there has been a cholera epidemic in his absence.”

  “How dreadful!” Prudence exclaimed.

  “It is indeed,” he agreed, taking a swipe at the beads of perspiration dotting his smooth bald brow. “The
natives die by the hundreds. They seem to have no tolerance whatsoever to the disease. Many die within hours of contracting it. I’m told some prefer to drown themselves rather than suffer the agonizing cramps in the final stages of the illness. Some years ago when Brownell was there, a cholera epidemic swept through the island. The natives died like flies. He had the bodies stacked like cordwood and ordered them burned. The settlement reeked of the smell of burning corpses.”

  Her forehead furrowed, Prudence said, “I’m sure Sir James must be concerned.”

  Alfredson nodded. “But he couldn’t do a thing were he there. The disease has to run its course. Naturally, he is eager to return and take charge once more. I understand arrangements are already underway.”

  “Are you privy to those arrangements, Mr. Alfredson?” Prudence asked, hoping to glean as much information as she could about James’s travel plans. He would soon be on a ship, journeying half way around the world. Her heart ached a little as she contemplated the great distance that would come between them. Creeping tendrils of melancholy began to encircle her anxious organ. She might never see him again.

  “Don’t know anything at all,” her companion admitted.

  “So you are not going with Sir James when he returns to Borneo?” she probed.

  Alfredson shook his head. “Not this time. I have matters to attend to at home in Devonshire. My health is not what it was—that is why I’ve come to Bath, don’t you know? I have a weak liver and inflammation of the joints.”

  “I am sorry to hear it.”

  “The jungle…” Alfredson shook his head with something like remorse. “So unbearably hot. It can drain the life’s blood right out of you, if you are not careful.”

  Watching as he dabbed at his perspiring forehead with a folded handkerchief, Prudence couldn’t help wondering if Mr. Alfredson was particularly sensitive to the heat. As he went on regaling her with more cheerful anecdotes regarding the native sword dances and his experiences dining with Malay nobles and Dyak chieftains, Prudence listened intently. She could easily imagine Sir James in these circumstances. Nothing would daunt the man!

  “I do beg your pardon, Miss Pentyre,” Alfredson said with a chuckle. “You must think me a dead bore going on and on like this.”

  “Indeed, sir, I do not. I am quite fascinated,” Prudence confessed. She would, however, not admit she found everything about James Brownell to be fascinating.

  “You see, accompanying Sir James on his last voyage was the most exciting thing I have ever done in my life,” he told her with a bit of a self-conscious shrug.

  Prudence replied, “I can well believe it, Mr. Alfredson. There is no need to apologize. None whatsoever.” She rewarded him with one of her most charming smiles. He blinked, giving her a quick nod before turning shy and inarticulate. His awkwardness must have been contagious for Prudence soon realized she had no polite conversation left and was scrambling for something else to say to the man when she was rescued by Arthur and Eleanor Greenwood.

  “We have come to take you in to supper,” Eleanor said, with a snap of her fan. “I am starved, Prudence. I am certain you must be too.”

  “I most certainly am,” Prudence declared. She then introduced the couple to Mr. Alfredson, feeling mildly relieved when he drifted away from them as soon as it was civil to do so.

  “I have some news which may be of particular interest to you, Miss Pentyre,” Arthur told her.

  “No, not now, Arthur,” Eleanor pleaded. “We were going to save it as a surprise.”

  Arthur shrugged. “As you wish, my dear.” He gave Prudence an apologetic smile.

  “You do enjoy surprises, don’t you, Prudence?” Eleanor watched her face with eager attentiveness.

  Prudence hesitated before replying, “I enjoy some surprises.” If the truth be told, most surprises, in her experience, proved not to be pleasant ones, and she always felt a little wary when anticipating them.

  “Arthur will reveal all at our picnic expedition to Little Solsbury Hill the day after tomorrow,” Eleanor assured her, twinkling. “You are invited, of course.”

  “We have also invited your cousin Margaret and Mrs. Leyes as well,” Arthur put in, gently shepherding them forward to the room, where a sumptuous buffet waited for Lady Brownell’s hungry guests.

  Prudence chuckled. “I cannot imagine my Aunt Judith agreeing to attend an al fresco party.”

  “Why not?” Eleanor asked.

  “The terrors of wind, rain, sunshine—not to mention ants,” Prudence added with a grin.

  Arthur laughed. “You know your aunt well. Mrs. Leyes did politely decline our invitation, insisting she never sits upon the ground for fear the damp would cause her to catch a chill—or worse.”

  “There, you see?” Prudence replied, raising her eyebrows. “Who else will make up your party?”

  Arthur revealed the names of those they had invited, including Robert Ludlow, which set Prudence’s imagination to whirling. Perhaps she had discovered the identity of Margaret’s nonpareil after all. “And James and Lady Brownell of course,” Arthur added.

  “I look forward to the outing and will pray we have fine weather for it,” Prudence said, ignoring the rush of warmth to her cheeks. The tiny, expectant quiver she felt in the pit of her stomach, she promptly put down to hunger, and nothing more.

  Chapter Ten

  “You will be careful, won’t you, my dears?” Judith implored, her voice almost shrill with anxiety. “Picnics can be potentially dangerous. You could catch your deaths sitting on the damp ground.”

  Prudence, tying the red ribbons of her wide brimmed bonnet beneath her chin, replied with a light laugh, “Aunt Judith, please do not worry. The weather is quite warm, and we will be sure to sit upon the blanket.”

  “But what if there should be a sudden rain?” her aunt asked. “A wet chill can do irreparable damage to weak lungs.”

  “I do not have weak lungs,” Prudence assured her. “Surely you do not, Meg?”

  “No indeed,” her cousin spoke up as she tugged on her pale lavender gloves. Prudence admired them prodigiously and was tempted to buy a pair for herself before leaving Bath. “Besides, the day promises to be fair, Mama,” Margaret assured her nervous parent. “There is not a cloud in the sky.”

  “There are other dangers to be considered besides the weather,” Judith said, in an ominous tone.

  “True, but should any highwaymen be abroad at this hour of the day, you can trust Harry Paige and his friend Mr. Ludlow to look to our safety,” Margaret replied lightly.

  “And Sir James too, of course,” Prudence threw in. “He’ll run the blackguards through with his walking stick or plant them a facer. Maybe both.” She chuckled, amused by the ridiculous scenario she’d conjured.

  Judith gave a gasp of exasperation and flapped a dismissive hand. “Pshah! I do not consider highwaymen to be of any concern—not so close to Bath in any case. But there will certainly be wild animals upon Little Solsbury Hill.”

  “Without a doubt,” Prudence agreed. “We could be stung to death by bees.”

  “Bitten by ants,” Margaret added, with a sly smile for her cousin.

  “Not to mention foxes — most certainly rabid ones.” Prudence shrugged. “Fierce badgers too. Don’t forget those. And what about buzzards, Meg? Are there any nesting buzzards on the Hill?”

  Margaret faked a shudder. “Oh, yes. They might swoop down and peck out our eyes. Or perhaps they shall eat our livers, like that poor man Promiscuous in Greek mythology.”

  “His name was Prometheus,” Prudence corrected with a snort of laughter. “He was attacked by an eagle, I believe.”

  “I’ve never heard of eagles on Little Solsbury Hill, Pru. We need not worry about them, I’m sure.” Noting her mother’s face, crunched in a fierce frown, Margaret laughed and gave Judith a quick hug. “Please do not fret, Mama. We will be fine. It is a delightful day for a picnic expedition.”

  While Aunt Judith tut-tutted her daughter’s silliness
and cautioned her yet again about the dangers abounding in nature, Prudence hid a smile as she glanced out the front window. She felt aglow with anticipation, delighted to be wearing her favorite summer straw hat, with its cluster of imitation cherries and matching red ribbons. In it, she felt rather festive. She knew her aunt would prefer to stay at home, lying upon her couch, clasping her smelling salts to her bosom in one hand and a crumpled linen handkerchief in the other. But not Prudence! She was eager to embark on the adventure. She loved picnics—more so than dances and card parties, she had to admit.

  As she wondered how all the ladies could fit comfortably inside Dorothea’s carriage, Prudence caught sight of Lady Brownell’s blue barouche pulling up to the curb. She had not anticipated taking the short journey in the luxurious conveyance. Still, it would be a squeeze with Dorothea, Lady Brownell, Clarissa, Eleanor, Margaret and herself all traveling together in the same vehicle.

  “Meg, they are here,” she called over her shoulder. She noted Harry Paige and his friend Mr. Ludlow on horseback, but felt a sharp pang of regret that James was not with them. Neither was Arthur Greenwood, as far as she could tell. Surely the two men were not riding in the barouche? They must have decided not to come after all. She swallowed back her disappointment as she planted a kiss upon her aunt’s cheek, bidding her good-bye and imploring her not to fret in their absence.

  After Margaret did the same, they opened the front door and descended the steps together. Prudence, casting a glance in Robert Ludlow’s direction, whispered, “I see Mr. Ludlow is to accompany us today. He seems a personable young man. He sits his horse well too. Does he come to Bath often?” She glanced sidelong at Margaret, hoping to note some telltale sign of emotion.

  With a gleam in her eye Prudence could not quite decipher, Margaret replied briskly, “No, he comes only occasionally to visit his grandmother, Mrs. Sarah Ludlow,” Margaret said. “Or so Clarissa told me. The woman is elderly and an invalid, but Mr. Ludlow is quite fond of her, Harry says.”

  Harry dismounted to help Prudence into the carriage and then did the same for Margaret. Prudence was mildly surprised to discover only Clarissa and Eleanor inside waiting for them. Had the other members of the party also begged off? “Do sit beside me, Prudence,” Eleanor said, smiling. She patted the seat her with a gloved hand and moved her skirt aside, making room for her friend.