Sally James (3 page)

She was far too busy supervising all the arrangements, Lady Frome complaining she was really too exhausted to do everything herself, to give much thought to Charlotte and her mama, and was curt even with Sarah when the latter called on her way to another party.

'Bring another man?' she asked. 'By all means, bring as many as you like. Aunt Lavinia has been complaining all week that town is still too thin of company, and there are always too few men willing to dance, most of them preferring the card room. Like Augustus,' she added.

'Pru, that's unfair. Just because he wouldn't dance at that ghastly local assembly at Christmas. Besides, Augustus isn't in town or I'd make him do his duty and dance with you.'

'Of course, with all this fuss I'd forgotten. I'm sorry, how is his father?'

Sarah sighed. 'It varies. Every time he rallies and we think perhaps the crisis is over, so that Augustus can leave him for a few days, he has a relapse the following day.'

She departed then and Prudence at last found time to try on her ballgown, a simple, white satin dress with a silver gauze overskirt, that her aunt's maid, a skilled needlewoman, was making some slight adjustments to.

She did not need Netta's appreciative comments to know she looked charming the next evening. Slightly flushed with the excitement of her first real London party, her eyes sparkling and her lips moist and red, she patted the silver ribbon threaded through her curls, fastened the double row of pearls about her neck, and picked up the fan encrusted with seed pearls.

When the first guests arrived, Prudence stood beside her aunt at the top of the stairs to greet them, wondering somewhat bemusedly whether she would ever remember all the names of these strangers. There seemed very few young people of her own age, and when she saw Charlotte in the hall below she smiled brightly at her, grateful for youthful company.

Then the smile froze on her face as she saw the two women ascending the stairs, Charlotte meekly walking one step behind.

The older woman wore a gown of puce silk, deeply décolleté, and in a skimpy style which would have suited a slender girl of eighteen but was a disaster as it clung to her own opulent curves. Several diamond necklaces adorned the vast expanse of her bosom.

Her hands, which she was extending towards Lady Frome, were large and red, and the massive stones in the half dozen rings she wore could not disguise the rough skin. Nor could the heavy paint hide the wrinkles on her neck and face, or her smile, which revealed several decayed teeth, disguise the deeply scored lines of discontent about her nose and mouth.

'My dear Lady Lavinia!' she exclaimed in a loud, harsh voice which caused Lady Frome to shudder and blink rapidly several times in order to regain her composure. 'How exceedingly kind of you to invite me and my gals to your little party. I am exceedingly gratified, I do assure you. Mark my words, Emma, I said, with Lady Lavinia as our friend we shall soon be on the best of terms with all the town. This is Emma, Lady Lavinia, my daughter by my first. And you know dear little Charlotte, not my own flesh and blood, more's the pity, she's my second's child. But she's a good little puss, and is a great friend of my Emma. Say how d'ye do to Lady Lavinia, Emma. And this is Sir Dudley, I presume? I've heard a great deal about you, you naughty man!' she said, tapping the speechless Sir Dudley archly on the wrist with a large fan made out of what, to Prudence's astonished gaze, seemed to be ostrich feathers.

Somehow Lady Frome uttered a faint reply, and Lady Mottesford passed on, beaming widely about her, into the drawing room. Prudence had time to notice that Emma, dressed in white muslin with inappropriately delicate, pink and blue and lemon bows dotted all over it, had hard black eyes at variance with the youthfulness of her gown. Poor Charlotte, she thought, with such a frightful stepmother and sister.

Then when the dancing began Prudence's attention was caught by the sight of Sarah entering the room, accompanied by two men.

She stumbled, and rather breathlessly apologised to her partner.

'You're pale,' he remarked. 'Have you seen a ghost?'

'I hope not,' she replied with a laugh, and as soon as the dance ended made her way to her uncle's side.

'Who is that with Sarah?' she asked urgently.

'With Sarah? The fair one is Edward Gregory, who is one of Augustus's friends,' he replied. 'The other is Richard Ashley, the new Lord Mottesford. I wonder if he knows yet that his aunt is here?' he added with a slight laugh. 'How on earth did she persuade Lavinia to invite her? I doubt if anyone else will even notice such a vulgar creature.'

Prudence did not reply. She was wondering desperately where she could hide as Lord Mottesford, who had a wager with his friend that he could break her heart, approached her with slow determination.

Chapter 3

'Miss Lee, you will grant me this dance?' he stated rather than asked, and before Prudence could answer had taken her hand, tucked it under his elbow, and led her away. Her attempt to drag her hand away was foiled by his unyielding grip, and without a deplorable scene she knew she could not, for the moment, escape him.

Lord Mottesford, outwardly oblivious to the impotent fury which overwhelmed her, was chatting unconcernedly. He talked about the people in town, the clemency of the April weather, and finally, with a wickedly attractive smile said how delighted he was to meet her.

Fortunately for Prudence's composure, the musicians then struck up and they took their places in the set dance.

During it she desperately tried to decide what would be her best ploy. Should she announce at once that she knew of the wager, or keep silent and when he felt sure of winning his bet, disillusion him by delivering the coup de grace?

Rather to her chagrin he gave her no opportunity to reveal her decision, for immediately the dance finished he thanked her briefly, walked across with her to where Lady Frome was chatting with some old friend, and smilingly took his leave.

'That dreadful creature!' Lady Frome exclaimed when the guests had all departed, and neither her husband nor her niece had any doubts about the direction of her thoughts.

'You didn't have to dance with her even more dreadful daughter,' Sir Dudley pointed out with a faint laugh. 'I shall ask to be excused from your future parties, my love.'

'Dudley, you can't!' his love wailed shrilly.

'But if they are to be present, and everyone else pointedly ignores the wretched female, I must as host pay some attention to her,' he said patiently. 'Why the deuce did you ever invite them in the first place?'

'It was all a despicable trick to wheedle her way in,' Lady Frome replied angrily. 'They must have called when we were out on purpose, and made certain we did not meet when I returned the call. Indisposed, indeed! They had to be sure of getting the invitation before anyone set eyes on them.'

'I think that's unlikely,' Prudence said slowly. 'Do you think she even realises how vulgar she is? If she did she would surely behave differently.'

'I doubt she knows how, but she could be sure she would not be able to meet anyone without some trickery! Never mind, I shall refuse to see her if she calls, or notice her if I meet her outside. I will not be bamboozled into recognising her!'

'Somehow, my love, I suspect she has a stronger will than you, and a greater determination to get her own way. They'll be like vultures now, especially as they live next door. You'll not be able to avoid them.'

'It's poor Charlotte I feel sorry for,' Prudence said. 'She is rather silly, but from what I hear of her father he probably neglected her dreadfully, and she has never been taught the proper way to go on. Yet one can see she is well bred, with natural good manners, and was suffering agonies of embarrassment at their behaviour.'

'She's pretty, but in a vapid sort of way. Unless she has a fortune she is unlikely to make a good match with that harridan behind her. Pru, you are not to encourage her. I've no doubt the scheming woman is relying on forcing the poor child in here, and hoping to follow.'

'Her cousin, Lord Mottesford, ought to help introduce her to the right people,' Sir Dudley remarked. 'Pity he's not married, or his wife could take over.'

'He's not likely to be married from what Sarah said. He's worth ten thousand a year even before what goes with the title, and girls have been on the catch for him for years, whenever he's been on leave. He has a reputation as a flirt but there has never been anything serious. Don't pin your hopes on him, Pru,' her aunt added warningly.

'I won't, I think he's a detestable man!' Prudence replied, and soon afterwards took herself off to bed.

Detestable or not, she tossed and turned, unable to rid her mind of his image. He was tall, so that she had to crane her neck to look up at him. Slim of figure, he nevertheless had iron hard muscles, as she had discovered both when trying to prevent him from chastising Harry, and when he had forcibly kept her at his side.

His face was thin and intelligent, with finely-drawn eyebrows above deep-set brown eyes, prominent cheekbones and a determined chin. His face swam before her eyes however hard she closed them in her attempt to blot it from her mind.

Although weary, she was up early riding in the Park with Netta. More people were in London and they saw several acquaintances also taking exercise. Mr and Mrs Buxton stopped to chat, as did several other people who had been at the party. Prudence kept a wary eye open for Lord Mottesford, telling herself that she would be able to avoid an encounter, but they were about to leave the Park before she saw him.

He was alone, entering through the gate they were approaching, and riding a superb chestnut which made Netta exclaim enviously. Braced to offer a snub, Prudence felt rather deflated when, with no more than a cool nod in her direction, he urged his mount into a canter and went swiftly past them.

Her frustration increased later in the day. She and her aunt were entertaining callers and, happening to be sitting with another young lady near one of the long windows in the drawing room, Prudence looked down into the square and saw Lord Mottesford, driving a sporting-looking curricle, moving away from the house in the direction of Bond Street.

As soon as she could she went to inspect the cards left in the hall. Yes, he had duly left a card, but she was at a loss to know why he had not paid her a visit. Less worldly wise than he, she did not realise his method, arousing her interest and then appearing cool, in a deliberate design to confuse her and throw her off balance. Nor had she considered that the day after a party, when many guests would be paying duty calls, would scarcely be the best time to secure her undivided attention.

To Lady Frome's relief the deplorable Lady Mottesford and her daughter merely left cards, even though she scathingly condemned them as too large, over-lavishly engraved, and in extremely vulgar taste. Her relief was, however, premature, for early on the following day Tanner, his face wooden with disapproval, announced Lady Mottesford, Miss Potter, Miss Ashley, and Mr Hubert Clutterbuck.

The man who accompanied them was no gentleman according to Lady Frome, after they had departed.

'He smelled of the shop! He had greasy hair, and greasy manners, and I would not have been surprised to find his hands greasy, too! Instead they were soft and hot. And his clothes! He could not have been above five and twenty, but I swear he wore corsets, his waist was so tightly pinched in. And lace on his cravat! As for his waistcoat, ugh! I've never seen anything so horrible!'

'My dear Lady Lavinia,' Lady Mottesford had gushed. 'I had to come and tell you how very much we all enjoyed your delightful party. Both my little girls were enraptured, weren't you, Emily – Emma, that is? I really must remember to stop using your nursery name now that you are out! Oh, and I do so hope you don't mind me bringing my nephew with me. Hubert did so want to meet you.

'The main purpose of my visit, dear Lady Lavinia, was to ask you and your dear husband, and Miss Prudence, of course, to dine with us tomorrow night. Do say you'll come, Charlotte and Emma are so looking forward to it.'

'I'm afraid we already have an engagement tomorrow,' Lady Frome said hastily, but her visitor was not to be thwarted.

'Of course, popular people like you are bound to be in great demand. Unlike strangers to town such as we are. Well, what is the first night you are free?'

'So what could I do? I could scarcely claim we were going out every night,' Lady Frome explained to an incensed Sir Dudley. 'She would doubtless have watched for us from behind the curtains, and I refuse to be forced into going out when I don't want to, just to avoid the wretched woman. I accepted, we'll get it over with as speedily as possible, and then hope that in future I can avoid her. Tanner has orders to refuse me whenever possible.'

'If you think Tanner can protect you I fear you are greatly mistaken. She has her claws in you and will not let go. Could you give her a set down she would understand? Or could you snub the girl, Charlotte?' he asked Prudence.

She shook her head reluctantly.

'I feel so sorry for her. She was so mortified by the woman's behaviour, I could not be horrid to her. Besides, we had an opportunity to talk for a while, and she told me her mama is planning to marry her to the frightful Hubert. If she receives no better offer she will have to accept. I believe she has virtually no money of her own.'

'But old Dicky Mottesford was rolling! And he was a miser, no spendthrift to fritter away his fortune. Do you mean he didn't leave the child provided for?'

'She said she had some money of her mother's, but very little. It appears that her father left almost everything, even what was not entailed, to the new Lord Mottesford,' Prudence explained.

'Who needs it less than most men! I suppose she hopes to catch a husband for her own daughter. That will task her powers of persuasion!'

'She cannot be ill provided for if she can afford to hire a house in the square,' Lady Frome said thoughtfully. 'And those jewels, gaudy though they are, are real. Oh, bother the woman! We shall have to go to her wretched dinner party, but I have no intention of wasting all my time talking about her. I shall treat it like going to the dentist, unavoidable and to be forgotten about both before and afterwards!'