Prudence (10 page)

‘You don’t know how lucky you are! Here is a woman blessed with the tenderest of natures, the kindest of temperaments. And you can think of nothing better to do than to goad her into losing her temper! Well, I tell you now, she will not do it.’

He became aware of the two faces, staring at him with blank incomprehension. He crossed hastily back to stand before the desk, unable to help the rapidity with which the words left his tongue.

‘Would you wish to know why you have not yet been beaten for these pranks? I would have spanked you for the frogs, but that Miss Hursley begged for mercy for you. Your governess herself, who was the subject of your tricks. Nor could she bear the thought that I might punish you for today’s disgraceful behaviour. You called her a dowd, Lotty. In appearance perhaps she is. But she is quite other than that in her heart, and you two impertinent, unfeeling little devils have not the wit to see it!’

Whether his words went home, Julius could not tell, but the harsh manner of his utterance was beginning to
have an effect. Both sets of dark orbs were luminous with unshed tears. He did not relent.

‘I hope you are both thoroughly ashamed of yourselves. You should be. A more heartless pair I trust I may never meet!’

He clamped down upon his churning emotions, for both twins were swallowing on hiccuping sobs and Dodo was knuckling her eyes. Lotty, he was glad to see, looked thoroughly shamefaced, but she was making a valiant effort to sniff away her tears.

‘Don’t think you are to get off with a mere scold,’ he told them more moderately. ‘You are confined to your bedchamber for the remainder of the day, where you had best think how you are going to make your peace with Miss Hursley.’

Lotty bit her lip, and sniffed dolefully.

‘And one more thing,’ decided Julius. ‘I will instruct Mrs Wincle to provide you with no sweetmeats or treats for a full week.’

Dodo’s sobs redoubled at this, but Lotty merely dropped her eyes, as if this was of less account than the inevitably embarrassing meeting with her governess.

Feeling that he had made up in some measure for the upset Prudence had endured, Julius dismissed them. Although the interview had not gone according to plan, he believed that on the whole it had been effective—perhaps more so than if he had administered a beating. But then he had not bargained for the intensity of feeling that had attacked him on realising what Lotty had been trying to do to the innocent and unsuspecting Miss Prudence Hursley.

The dining parlour was a roomy apartment, sparsely furnished, with walls almost bare of decoration bar a
couple of paintings and one large mirror. There was not that atmosphere of stuffy formality which Prue had been led to expect.

There had been great emphasis upon table manners at the Seminary, in preparation for those few occasions when the governess might be required to dine with the family. As their female charges approached maturity, it would be natural, the Duck said, for them to be allowed into the adult world. Their governess would naturally keep them company, for no young lady could be relieved of such care until she had emerged from the schoolroom to be presented at Court.

At Rookham Hall, the table was not overlong—or if it was, the leaves must have been removed, Prue thought—and there were but two dressers to one side where dishes might be placed. Mr Rookham had obliged her to sit to one side of his own place at the head of the table, where she was immediately served with a selection of cold meats and pickled cabbage.

During her employer’s absence, she had been far too worried to partake of much of the food, but had cut up a portion of meat and served it to Folly under the table. She had braved the butler’s disapproving look rather than be parted from the kitten. After all, it was Mr Rookham who insisted upon her sitting at his board, and he had said nothing about removing Folly.

By the time he returned, Prue’s plate had been removed and she was disposing of a couple of Wincle’s excellent jam tarts.

‘Well, that’s that,’ said Julius, seating himself at the head of the table, and signing to the butler to pour him wine. He tutted at Prue’s expression.

‘You need not look so troubled, you goose! I merely
gave them a scold, and sent them back to their bedchamber for the rest of the day.’

A huge sigh escaped her, and her features lit. ‘Thank you, sir. I am very much relieved.’

There came that giveaway tremor at his lips, but he spoke with decision. ‘But this really is their last chance. One more trick like that, and they will certainly feel my hand!’

Prue eyed him dubiously. ‘Did you tell them so?’

He grinned as he lifted the glass. ‘I forgot, as it chances. But that is easily remedied.’

She watched him sip his wine, and made a silent resolve to prevent the twins from committing any further mischief of a like nature. Pushing back her chair, she made to rise.

Julius reached out and grasped her wrist. ‘Don’t go yet!’

His grip was warm, and a hollow opened up unexpectedly in Prue’s insides. She eyed the strong features, unaware that she leaned a little away from him. A frown came into his eyes, and he released her abruptly.

‘I beg your pardon. Of course you may leave, if that is your wish.’

Prue did not wish it at all, but she could hardly say so. She rose, and hovered. The enigmatic look was back on his face, and she knew not what to say to him. An absurd sensation of guilt rose up—as if she had hurt him! She sat down again abruptly, unable to think of a single word to say.

There was a short silence. Julius watched her downcast face, and cursed himself. He had made her ill at ease, when his whole desire had been the opposite. He signed to Creggan.

‘Will you take a sweetmeat?’

Looking up, Prue found the butler presenting to her a platter containing an array of dainties. Feeling she had something for which to make up, she selected a sugared almond and a squared piece of marchpane.

Nibbling, she dared to face Mr Rookham once more, and found him taking up a couple of glazed orange pieces.

Catching her gaze, Julius smiled. ‘I wish you will tell me more about these friends of yours. The paragon Nell, and—who was it?—the girl with the high-and-mighty notions.’

Prue was obliged to laugh. ‘Poor Kitty. It is not her fault, for she has a mysterious background. Nell would tease her, but the melancholy truth is that none of us can claim half as interesting a story.’

‘You have now thoroughly intrigued me,’ declared Julius. ‘You will have to reveal all forthwith.’

Amused, he watched her throw a hand to her mouth, those expressive eyes peeping over it in consternation.

‘Oh, dear, I should not have said anything.’

‘Too late, Miss Hursley.’

She grimaced. ‘But it is the most shocking tale—at least the way Kitty told it.’

‘You will find me utterly unshockable. Come, I insist upon knowing all.’

Prue sighed, popping the almond into her mouth and brushing a powdering of sugar off her fingers. ‘Well, everyone knew the story that was given out. Kitty was born from a misalliance made by her father—Mr Merrick that was—with a country girl. Both, it is said, had perished in an accident.’

‘Unfortunate,’ commented Julius. ‘But do you say there is doubt about this history?’

‘So Kitty claims. To be fair, it is perfectly true that
her memories do not bear it out. Or they seem not to do so, shocking though it is to give credence to her notions.’

‘Ah. I perceive there is some disgraceful secret involved.’

Prue saw his mouth twitch. ‘You may tease, sir, but it is outrageous—if it is true. Kitty believes she was instead the outcome of an unfortunate liaison between a high-born gentleman and an equally high-born married lady.’

Her employer evidently found this funny.

‘You might well laugh, Mr Rookham,’ she said severely, ‘but the outcome is not at all amusing. You see, Kitty fancies herself of much higher worth than a governess. Despite Nell’s strongest encouragements, she has refused to prepare herself properly for the future which must be hers.’

Julius found her air of anxious concern both endearing and amusing. ‘Whereas you and this Nell have been diligent in so doing, I take it?’

‘Well, I tried, and Nell is exemplary. She was diligent, if you like, for she believed her future to be inevitable. For though she kept it close, she claims there is nothing unusual to her background, any more than my own.’

Curious, Julius regarded her with interest. ‘Which is?’

‘Oh, the veriest nothing. My father was a parson, and my mother was the doctor’s daughter in the village. They were both carried off by an outbreak of scarlet fever when I was little more than six or seven.’

An unexpected pang smote Julius. He felt an overwhelming urge to compensate her. Only he had no way
of doing so, beyond a word of sympathy. He could give her that at least.

‘How unfortunate! I am so sorry, Prudence.’

She coloured, shaking her head. ‘Pray don’t disturb yourself, Mr Rookham. I was very lucky, for although my grandfather the doctor had already died, the priest who came in my papa’s stead was kind enough to take me in. Later he arranged for me to go to the Seminary so that I might have the means whereby to make my way in the world.’

Julius could not help himself, the harsh note pronounced. ‘And you call yourself lucky?’

She nodded vigorously. ‘Indeed I do, sir. I might have ended in the workhouse, you know, for although there were people to care for me before Mr Wilby came, they could not have supported me for long.’

A burning feeling of resentment flourished on her behalf in Julius’s bosom, but he forced himself to speak as normally as possible.

‘Undoubtedly a worse fate.’

Puzzlement overspread her features, and he knew he had been less than successful at hiding the intensity of his feelings. Hell and damnation, how misplaced they were! What had it to do with him?

‘Pray do not feel sorry for me, Mr Rookham, for I am far from sorry for myself. Indeed, I have been quite happy at the Seminary, for I had Nell to guide me, and Kitty to amuse me with her fanciful imagination.’

A sudden gurgle of laughter escaped her, and Julius was conscious of warmth cascading into his chest. It was all he could do to enquire into the cause.

‘What is so funny?’

‘I was thinking of Kitty, though why I should laugh, I’m sure I don’t know. She made me as mad as fire!’
Prue was unaware of her own motion as she leaned confidingly towards him. ‘You see, Kitty would only try at the particular subjects which she considered appropriate to the life of a titled lady. She is near fluent in French and Italian, she can dance like a fairy, and she plays the pianoforte quite magically.’

‘Useful accomplishments for a governess, surely?’

‘Yes, but not without the rest. In all other respects, she pretended to be as inept as I am. Had she made the attempt, I am sure Kitty could have managed to sew well and read the globes far better than I.’

Her indignation drew a laugh from Julius. Unthinkingly, he reached out and laid his hand over her unquiet ones.

‘You should not speak of yourself so disparagingly, Prudence. You have gifts of your own that are worth more than any mechanical skill.’

Prue felt her pulse go out of kilter. She knew her fingers trembled and hoped he did not notice. She tried to answer him out of lips grown stiff and unwieldy.

‘Th-thank you, Mr R-Rookham. It is kind of you, though I cannot imagine what m-makes you say such a thing.’

The look in his eyes made her melt inside. ‘Therein lies much of your charm.’

She knew not what to say. The pressure of his fingers lifted from her own, and she breathed more freely. Seeking distraction, she reached absently towards the platter of sweetmeats. Recollecting her manners before she could take one, she snatched her hand back again, and stood up abruptly.

‘I have taken up far too much of your time, sir.’

A slight frown came into his eyes, and the strong
chin lifted, making his nose jut out the more. ‘So you wish to go, after all? Yes, very well.’

Dismayed by his sudden curtness, Prue pushed back her chair and shifted out from her place at the table. She had to force herself to look at him.

‘Thank you, sir, for helping me with the twins.’

Mr Rookham shrugged. ‘I have done nothing out of the ordinary. But you must let me know if you have any further trouble.’

The tone was a dismissal. Prue’s heart sank. She dropped a quick curtsy, and went to the door, where she belatedly recalled the kitten.

‘Oh, dear. Where is Folly?’

Mr Rookham immediately swept a glance about the room, and then lifted the tablecloth to look beneath it. The butler intervened, moving to the other end of the table.

‘The animal, sir, is in this chair.’

‘Been keeping an eye on it, eh, Creggan? Well, I don’t blame you. Let Miss Hursley fetch it, or we shall be chasing it all over the room!’

Prue was already bustling to the indicated chair. She scooped up the kitten and hastily left the parlour, feeling once again baffled by Mr Rookham and his odd changes of temperament.

She retreated to the schoolroom, where she prepared a lesson for the morrow, and thence to her parlour to write an account of the day’s events to her two friends. Talking of them to Mr Rookham had somehow brought them closer.

Taking out Nell’s last letter, she read over it again. Her friend had applied for two more positions, neither of which—as she reluctantly confessed—had the attraction of that one she had missed.

Prue sighed. It seemed extraordinarily unfair that Prue was herself settled before the best of the Duck’s pupils. She wished that wretched fellow with his strange request had not thought poor Nell too young.

Even Kitty had envied that position! A widowed lord, looking for a governess for his daughter. And living in a lonely castle tucked away in a forest. Indeed, Lord Jarrow had made no secret of the fact that it was an isolated place and his child an untamed creature who would need careful handling.

Who could be better suited for such a post than Miss Helen Faraday? The Duck had said so, and all the girls had agreed. Except Kitty. What an incurable romantic she was! Though it was true that one could more easily picture her in a gothic castle, as she insisted, than dear sensible Nell. And then Lord Jarrow had rejected Nell on the score of her youth and inexperience. Prue had been desperately disappointed for her, more so than Nell herself.