Sally James (6 page)

'Will your mama be angry with you?' Prudence asked as they reached Grosvenor Square.

'She is out with Emma, shopping,' Charlotte replied. 'But do come in with me, I want to show you my gown for Mama's masquerade.'

'I'll tell Aunt Lavinia where you are, Pru,' Sarah offered. 'I must see her before I go home.'

Charlotte whisked Prudence up to her small bedroom on the third floor, overlooking the back of the house, and heaved a sigh of relief as she closed the door.

'What can I do?' she asked baldly, sinking down on to the bed while Prudence sat in a small chair near to the window.

'If you are firm she can't force you to marry him,' Prudence said bracingly, although privately she considered that Charlotte was not made of sufficiently strong material to resist her formidable stepmother.

'But what else could I do? She has said she will not continue to provide me with a home if I refuse him, and I have no-one else to go to. Oh, how I wish Papa had not married her!'

'Isn't she your guardian?' Prudence asked, shocked at this revelation. 'She cannot throw you out into the street!'

'I – I think so, although when he was ill at the end Papa said he would make other arrangements for me. But I don't think he did, because he died the following day, and no one from outside, like a lawyer, had been to see him for weeks beforehand. Only the doctor, and he was one of Mama's cronies.'

'And you really don't know what your fortune is?' Prudence asked. 'Have you asked her?'

'Yes, but she says girls can't understand such things, and it will be the responsibility of my husband to deal with such matters. I know she is using the income for my dresses. She said it would be an investment.'

Prudence once more bit back the comment that rose to her lips. Charlotte must know that compared with most girls making their come out she was poorly dressed. She would probably put that down to lack of money for finery, but the more fashion-wise Prudence was well aware that for the same amount of money she could have been more attractively garbed had her stepmother paid attention to what suited her.

Charlotte meanwhile had risen from the bed and was searching for something in the back of a drawer. She found what it was and pulled it out, turning rather shyly to show it to Prudence.

'Look, Papa gave me that, the day before he died. It's the only thing of his that I have. There was also a string of pearls that had belonged to my mother, but Mama took them, she said it was unsuitable for me to wear them.'

Prudence looked at the small and simple oblong wooden box and swallowed hard. It was not even pretty, for it had been roughly used in the past and the edges were battered. The marquetry on the lid was old, many of the intricate pieces of coloured woods missing and the velvet pad lining it was torn at one side, scuffed and stained.

What a dreadful man Charlotte's father must have been, she thought angrily. He had willed all his money either to the woman he had married in order to save himself the wages of a housekeeper, or to a man who did not need it, and left his daughter virtually penniless. Then he had given her this paltry keepsake. If she had been treated in such a despicable fashion she would have hurled the pathetic memento on to the nearest fire, she decided, and yet Charlotte appeared to treasure it greatly.

Perhaps if her father had never demonstrated much love for her, even such a paltry gesture might have meant a great deal, Prudence concluded sadly. Possibly Charlotte nourished hopes that after a lifetime of neglect her father had made a deathbed repentance. A pity it had not taken a more practical form, she fumed, but silently, because she realised she could not shatter Charlotte's fragile links with her father.

'Show me your dress for the masquerade,' she said bracingly, changing the subject before she could be betrayed into improper comments.

Aunt Lavinia had been scathing in her comments when Lady Mottesford's invitation had arrived a few days earlier.

'Just like the dreadful woman! Instead of a proper ball to launch Charlotte, and Emma, too, I suppose, she must make it a masquerade. An excuse for romping and loose behaviour totally unsuitable for a coming out party. I've a good mind to send our excuses.'

Second thoughts, and a real fondness for Charlotte, prevented her from delivering such a snub, although on every intervening day she delivered a homily about encroaching mushrooms, and declared that nothing would persuade her to don fancy dress. Dominos and masks would have to suffice.

Prudence had been somewhat regretful at this decision, but when she saw the gown Charlotte produced she was at first heartily thankful for it.

Lady Mottesford must have found the dress in a trunk in the attics of Trelawn Manor, were her first thoughts. It was a ball gown in the style of fifty years earlier, with wide skirts and a loosely-flowing sacque back. The overskirt and very low bodice were of flowered yellow brocade, edged with faded yellow lace and limp, cream-coloured bows. There was a stiff, pointed cream stomacher and an underskirt of dirty white satin, with deep flounces at the hem, and the whole was worn over a large ungainly hoop.

'Do you like it?' Charlotte asked wistfully. 'Emma has one very similar, but hers is pink.'

Prudence swallowed her instinctive retort. How could the woman, even at a masquerade, allow the girls to appear as such frights?

'Don't you think it will be difficult to manage those skirts?' she asked instead.

'It will be awkward, I suppose, especially dancing, but Mama says we shall soon get used to it. She wore such gowns when she was young.'

Not if she was a cook, Prudence thought wrathfully. A fierce determination to prevent Charlotte from wearing such a disastrous gown seized her.

'Charlotte, I've had an idea! I haven't found a costume yet, but Uncle Dudley has several books with illustrations of ancient Greek and Roman people, and from what I recall their dresses were simple tunics and cloaks. Come and look at them with me, and we will find costumes which are easy for us to make. And let us keep it as a surprise for your Mama,' she added hurriedly.

By the way Charlotte's eyes lit up Prudence knew she had her own doubts about the gown, and they gleefully arranged for Charlotte to come later that day to talk about ideas.

Apart from distracting Charlotte's mind from the threat of marriage with Hubert Clutterbuck, and trying to bolster her courage, there was nothing Prudence could do. Back at home she tried to weave plans for discovering whether Edward Gregory's affections were engaged, but there seemed little hope of this. She had always treated him coldly, as the author of the wager with Lord Mottesford, and could scarcely change towards him in order to demand whether he loved Charlotte.

And while Lord Mottesford himself kept at a distance there seemed little hope of making any useful inquiries.

At last she decided to confide in Sarah, and urge her to try to discover what Mr Gregory's feelings were. They were both attending the opera that evening, and as they waited for it to begin Prudence signalled to Sarah, in a box opposite, that she needed to talk with her.

It was a moment later that she realised Lord Mottesford was one of the party in Sarah's box, and during the first act she followed none of the action on stage. If he should accompany Sarah to the Fromes' box in the interval, should she make it plain he was forgiven? Would this enable her, perhaps, to find out more?

She had not decided when the first interval began, so when Sarah appeared, escorted by Lord Mottesford, Prudence gave him a rather uncertain smile. He raised his eyebrows fractionally as he greeted her, and she blushed furiously, and as soon as possible drew Sarah away to the back of the box where she rapidly told her all that Charlotte had revealed to her.

'Mr Gregory is her only hope, or that wretched woman will force her to marry the odious Hubert,' she concluded. 'How can we discover what he intends?'

'I'll tell Edward he has offered for her, but she is reluctant,' Sarah said after a moment's reflection. 'If he loves her that will spur him into making his own declaration. If he does not there is nothing we can do.'

Prudence sighed with relief.

'Is it so easy?' she asked. 'I am certain he loves her, he looks at her so tenderly. Is he going to their masquerade?'

'Yes, for he was wondering what to wear when I saw him yesterday.'

'That woman!' Prudence exclaimed. 'She was going to make Charlotte wear some frightful outmoded dress with hoops, and even make her powder her hair! We spent the afternoon deciding on something else, and concluded the quickest thing to make was a Roman toga. Why don't you suggest that Edward wears Roman costume as well?'

Sarah just had time to agree before it was time to return to their own box for the second act. As he rose to depart Lord Mottesford paused beside Prudence.

'May I come back?' he asked quietly. 'We can walk outside and talk for a few moments, if you will.'

Without waiting for her reply he nodded and left, and she was thrown into confusion so that she saw no more of the second act than she had of the first.

Chapter 6

'I came to apologise for the other night,' Lord Mottesford said abruptly, when Prudence, incapable of finding an excuse to refuse to walk with him in the corridor outside the boxes, had meekly accompanied him. 'Will you forgive me, and let us go on as before?'

Prudence glanced up at him through her lashes. He was looking at her so warmly that she had to remind herself forcefully it was all pretence, he cared only for the wager, and so had to resume his pursuit of her.

'I – it was – I don't know,' she whispered, heartily despising herself for such weak vacillation, but totally incapable of responding as she knew she ought, with anger and contempt of his tactics.

'My only excuse is that you are so enchanting,' he said in a low, caressing voice. 'But if you prefer it, I will engage not to mention that, not even to pay you normal compliments until you give me leave. Will you drive with me in the morning so that I can demonstrate the firmness of my resolution?'

She could not refuse. Despite her knowledge of his perfidy Prudence suddenly realised how empty the last few days had been without his company. Whatever the danger to her own contentment she wanted to be with him, to talk and laugh in the way that had become so natural between them.

'Very well, my lord,' she said quietly, and after a brief word of thanks he began to talk of the opera, permitting her time to recover from the trembling which again attacked her before he returned with her to the Fromes' box.

That night she found it difficult to sleep. It was foolish of her to encourage him when she knew the truth, she told herself firmly, and replied that it would soon be over, for when he lost the wager he would have no need to seek out her company. She would have only a few more chances to be with him, and surely making the most of them would not hurt any more than the knowledge of how he was treating her hurt at the moment.

Did she want him to win the wager, her uncomfortable inner voice demanded, and she realised with horror that if she continued to behave as she was doing, he stood to do just that.

With that in mind she was cool and distant when he called for her, although she had not been able to deny herself the pleasure of wearing a smart new gown of rose pink muslin, with a matching hat that framed her face in a delightfully saucy manner. He did not refer to Vauxhall, or say a word which could possibly offend, but as they parted he looked deep into her eyes and said that he much looked forward to seeing her that evening at Lady Carstaires' ball.

Lady Mottesford and Emma were emerging from their house as Prudence went in, and she heard Lady Mottesford hailing Lord Mottesford loudly.

'My dear Richard, how delightful to see you!' she called, but as Tanner was waiting to close the door Prudence heard no more.

'I am rather surprised Lady Mottesford is on such familiar terms with him,' she said a few minutes later to Netta, whom she discovered waiting for her in her bedroom.

'It's just her,' Netta said with a shrug. 'Look how she insists on calling my mother Lady Lavinia instead of Lady Frome. She is trying to demonstrate she is on familiar terms with people when she isn't. It's all pretence.'

Prudence was unconvinced. 'I cannot imagine who cares,' she said pettishly. 'Why are you not in the schoolroom?'

'Miss Francis has taken the boys out to some ghastly museum. I said I would help you make your Roman toga,' she explained, indicating the unfolded garment which reposed on Prudence's bed beside her. 'That's far more useful plain sewing than hemming sheets!'

'You have done a great deal, I can see!' Prudence said with an attempt at a laugh.

'Well, that was only an excuse. Biddy says the servants next door have heard that Charlotte is to be betrothed soon. Did you know?'

'Is it definite? She told me the dreadful Hubert had offered for her, although she did not want to accept. Her stepmother insists she does, however.'

'She ought to run away.'

'Don't be silly, where on earth could she go?'

'She could be a chamber maid, or a governess. I don't know, but anything must be better than marrying that ridiculous man.'

'Perhaps there will be some way out,' Prudence said slowly. She did not want to reveal to Netta her hopes that Edward Gregory might offer for Charlotte, in case nothing came of it.

'What puzzles me is why the wretched woman went to all the expense of a London Season when Hubert was there all the time, ready and willing to marry Charlotte. If they wanted that it was risky introducing her to other men. Biddy says that she, Lady Mottesford, is always complaining about the waste of money, and makes the cook account to her for every penny spent. And according to her the refreshments she is planning for their masquerade are not at all what people will expect, and only enough to feed half the people coming!'

'Thanks, I'll have a good dinner before I go,' Prudence said. 'But I imagine she hopes to find Emma a husband, too, and the Season is really for her. Charlotte is here simply to try to make them acceptable to the ton. At least she is of good birth, and people will put up with her stepmother for her sake, as we do.'