Sally James (10 page)

'The last time?' Charlotte asked wistfully.

'Yes, until you are Edward's wife, and then you can come to town every year if you wish.'

'I must do some shopping first, and then I will come straight to the  Park. Shall we meet in the usual place?'

'Very well. I will be there. Are you going to the theatre this evening?'

Lady Mottesford, with Emma and Charlotte, and also Hubert, was there, preening herself and waving to every slight acquaintance, but Lord Mottesford was not escorting them. Prudence noted this with some puzzlement. She had not seen him since the masquerade, and wondered whether he had gone out of town with Edward Gregory, or was hiding from his friends in embarrassment at the trap he had fallen into.

On the following morning Prudence and Sarah went early to the Park, but Charlotte did not appear at the agreed time. Prudence paced slowly up and down, chatting to acquaintances, but all the time looking about her for her friend.

'Prudence, pay heed!' Sarah exclaimed in annoyance. 'Here is Lord Mottesford, with a new pair of chestnuts, by the looks of it. I haven't seen him for an age, not since that frightful masquerade party. What on earth could have induced him to offer for the dreadful Emma? Not at all the sort of thing he was expected to do.'

Prudence looked round, to find him drawing up alongside them. He greeted them brusquely.

'Miss Lee, pray drive with me for a few minutes,' he said abruptly, and Prudence was so taken aback she was unable to think of a way of refusing before she had, with Sarah's swift encouragement, been helped up into the curricle.

He drove off slowly, without speaking, a frown on his face. Then, as if making a decision, he turned towards her, his face stern. Before he could speak however, Prudence heard her name being called and looked round to see Netta running wildly towards them, Biddy in breathless pursuit.

'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 enormity 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.