Prudence (11 page)

‘Had he only met you, Nell, I am sure he must have seen at once how sensible and clever you are.’

Nell, typically, had refused to be cast down. ‘After all, it is just as the Duck has always warned. You know well that is why she does not attempt to send any of us out before we are old enough. Besides, I can well understand that Lord Jarrow might look for a governess of mature years. A female of two and twenty must seem to him ridiculously young for his needs.’

But in her letter, Nell admitted that she did not like the other posts she was trying for half as well. Prue settled down to writing her commiserations, guiltily aware that she had been less than truthful in her turn even to this most trusted confidante. Only how was she
to explain in a letter the unorthodox nature of Mr Rookham’s dealings with her?

If she could, she would not. For although Nell and Kitty wrote separately to her, she knew that her own letters back were shared. She might have turned to Nell for advice—who better to give it? But to have Kitty’s imagination go to work upon the matter could only make a mountain where none existed!

Mr Rookham was her employer, and that was the end of it. There could be nothing more. There
was
nothing more. If he had asked her to remain at luncheon, what might she read into that? She had been distressed, and perhaps he wished to put her at ease. If he had called her once or twice by her Christian name, what could it mean but that he was kindly disposed towards her? And merely because he had touched her, closed his fingers over her hand so that a flurry had disturbed the natural rhythm of her heartbeat, she need think nothing of it beyond the fact that Mr Rookham was a gentle sort of man.

It was harder to dismiss that other touch—oh, so lightly had his finger caressed her cheek! And he had spoken of her
charm
. There had been that in his eyes that Prue must count herself a fool to take notice of. It could mean nothing.

If Prue was to suppose he meant other than kindness, then she would be obliged to think the worse of Mr Rookham. And that she could not bear. For her education at the Duck’s hands had been thorough. No aspect of what might be expected had been omitted, including dire warnings of errant conduct that might conceivably occur in the gentleman of a household which any of the girls could inhabit.

Prue could not endure to discover that Mr Rookham
was of that brotherhood who took advantage of a young female in her position. The Duck’s words had been severe.

‘Do not be deceived into thinking that your class affords you protection. There are those unscrupulous enough to attempt to inveigle a young lady into an unforgivable liaison. If you should find yourself tempted—and you may well be, make no mistake!—you must remind yourself that only ruin and disaster can ensue. You had better leave altogether than allow yourself to be compromised.’

The Duck had not scrupled to outline the exact nature of the ruin and disaster that must inevitably follow a female’s fall from grace. All the girls had guessed that the homily had been particularly addressed to Kitty, whose ambitions—so Nell had averred in the privacy of their common bedchamber—laid her open to such attacks. It had not occurred to Prue, under no illusions about her personal attractions, that she might become the object of undue attentions.

True, Mr Rookham was unmarried, and the Duck—under no illusions about the sanctity of marriage!—had warned that the majority of gentlemen who behaved in that unscrupulous way were husbands. But her preceptress had not led her charges to suppose that a bachelor might be any less so.

‘Do not imagine that an unmarried man will respect your status any more than another. Nor should you anticipate that having ruined you, he might right you in the eyes of the world. That is the stuff of novels, my dears, and has no bearing on real life. Gentlemen do not commonly seek a wife from among the ranks of those females obliged to earn their living.’

Which had effectively put paid to Kitty’s impossible
dream. But Prue had not anticipated that any of these precepts could apply to her situation. Not that she could accuse Mr Rookham of attempting to compromise her. Only there had been those few little intimacies, and she could not help recalling the odd looks she had received from Mrs Polmont when that female had shown her the little parlour set aside for her use.

On the other hand, Mr Rookham had entered Prue’s bedchamber and made no attempt whatsoever upon her virtue. Nor had he shown himself to be in the least little bit attracted to her person. Which was a distinct relief, decided Prue, ignoring a sinking at her chest. No, he was merely kind, and appeared—inexplicably—to find her amusing.

Guiltily aware of having behaved towards Mr Rookham with no small degree of licence, Prue was moved to congratulate the good fortune that had made him a perfect gentleman. Or perhaps, she decided, coming down to earth again, she ought rather to thank her own lack of attributes. After all, it was unlikely that any gentleman—certainly not Mr Rookham!—would look twice at a dowdy brown mouse.

Reminded of Lotty’s remark, she instantly chided herself for expending her thoughts upon her employer, when she ought rather to be thinking of his nieces. Uneasily she wondered how they would behave towards her in the schoolroom on the morrow. And how should she conduct herself towards them?

Prue slept indifferently, and partook of breakfast in her parlour, perforce feeding Folly too since the twins did not come in as usual to collect him. In a little trepidation, she made her way to the schoolroom.

On opening the door, she discovered that the girls
were already seated at their desks. They had their backs to her, but she saw their heads turn briefly, although they did not venture to catch her eye, nor to speak. As she arrived at her own desk, they both stood politely.

‘Good morning, Miss Hursley.’

It was chorused, and subdued. Slightly taken aback, Prue eyed them, wondering whether or not to refer to yesterday’s fracas. Four dark orbs stared back at her, and at her continued silence, perplexity entered them.

‘Oh, pray sit down,’ she begged, taking her own seat.

They did so, gazing at her with growing interest. Prue struggled against a desire to run from the room. What should she say? Instinct told her to behave as if nothing had happened, but that would be cowardly. Besides, it was because she had steadfastly refused to refer to their naughtiness that they had been driven to try her too far.

No, she must make a stand. She tried to smile.

‘I think perhaps we should start again, don’t you?’

They looked at each other, and then back to Prue. Solemnly, both nodded.

‘I am afraid I am not very good at this. You see, I am learning just as much as you are. This is only my first post, and I did so want to do well at it.’

‘Your
first
?’ Dodo burst out.

‘But you are not
our
first,’ said Lotty.

‘No, for we have had so many governesses that we cannot count them all.’

‘And they got cross with us, and shouted.’

‘Why don’t you shout, Miss Hursley?’

Prue shifted uncomfortably, but it did not occur to her to prevaricate. ‘I have a great dislike of people shouting at me, and I would not care to make others uncomfortable by that means. Especially children.’

The twins appeared nonplussed by this explanation. They stared at her as they might a freak in a sideshow.

‘You look at me as if you thought me mad. What is so odd about it? People are different. You must not expect everyone to be the same.’

‘But don’t you care that we put frogs in your bed?’ demanded Dodo.

‘And the worms!’ Lotty sounded positively agitated. ‘I made sure you would have said something after the worms.’

‘But then you would have won,’ Prue defended herself. ‘I did not wish you to know that you had affected me.’

‘Wasn’t you scared?’

‘Wasn’t you disgusted?’

Prue shuddered. ‘I was both scared and disgusted. And though I was a trifle sorry for the frogs—for your uncle threw them out of the window, you must know— I had no compunction in getting rid of the worms.’

Both girls fell into laughter at the fate that had overtaken the frogs. But after a moment or two, they became silent again, and Dodo nudged her sister. There was a whispered colloquy, and Dodo jerked her head as at a secret signal. Lotty cleared her throat.

‘Dodo wants to know if you will still let us play with Folly.’

Prue felt a lurch at her chest as she caught a look of real contrition in Dodo’s face. She clasped her fingers tightly together on top of the desk.

‘I refuse to believe that either of you would have done as you did had you thought more about Folly, and less about me.’ There was a tremble at Dodo’s lip. Prue smiled at her. ‘My dear child, you have no need to be
jealous because Folly chooses to come to me. You see, he thinks of me as his mother. But you are his friend.’

Dodo began to cry. ‘But I w-wasn’t his f-friend, or I wouldn’t have p-put him down the w-well.’

‘But you will never hurt him again, I am persuaded.’

The girl shook her head, sniffing.

‘It was my fault,’ said Lotty suddenly. ‘I thought of it, Miss Hursley. Dodo would never have done it if I hadn’t said.’

Prue sighed. ‘I know, Lotty.’

Lotty frowned. ‘You never said so!’

‘No. But it was you who wrote about my shortcomings. Dodo was far more interested in Folly than she was in me. So it had to be your brain behind the mischief.’

‘Well, it was,’ admitted Lotty, a trifle sulkily.

Prue’s tone gentled. ‘You have a very good brain, Lotty. I am sure you could put it to better use.’

Lotty said nothing, but her eyes grew luminous, and Prue suddenly saw that she had won after all. Jumping up, she came around the desk and impulsively held out her arms.

There was a brief pause. And the next moment, two unhappy faces were buried in her shoulders, damping her gown with their tears.

Clutching a jar and an improvised net on a stick, Prue stepped gingerly on to the first of a series of protrusions of uneven stone that led across one end of the pond to an apparent island beyond. The girls, having tripped across the improvised causeway without a tremor, were already busily engaged in hunting the shallows for tadpoles.

It was not an occupation that appealed to Prue, but
she felt herself honour bound to engage in it. A week of exemplary behaviour on the part of the twins had resulted in her declaring a holiday to reward them. Besides, it was the first day of April, and it would be well to avert any pranks. Fully and happily occupied, her charges would be less likely to be thinking of mischief.

‘What would you care to do? You may choose anything you wish, provided it is not an activity of which your uncle may disapprove.’

Unable to believe their good fortune, for several moments the girls had been unable to think of anything they might like to do. To encourage them, Prue had offered to teach them how to make buttercup and daisy chains, for the onset of spring had yielded a crop of these wildflowers. Both Lotty and Dodo had rejected the suggestion with scorn, preferring pursuits of a more enterprising nature. Tadpoles had won the day.

The twins had raided the kitchen quarters in search of suitable jars, and ransacked the chest in their playroom for butterfly nets. Since they had only two, it became necessary to construct one for Prue’s use.

‘Do not concern yourselves over me,’ had pleaded Prue, by no means anxious to join in. ‘I will content myself with watching you.’

But this would not do at all for the twins. Miss Prue—by which new appellation they had taken to addressing her, Lotty having spotted the pet name at the top of a rare letter from Kitty—must not be deprived of the pleasure of collecting tadpoles! Netting had been begged from Mrs Polmont, wire and a stick from one of the gardeners. A few judicious, if inexpert, stitches had transformed these items into a collecting net of
dubious efficiency, which the twins had proudly presented to their governess.

Prue wobbled precariously, uneasily eyeing the shallow waters below. If only the girls had not objected, she would infinitely have preferred to remain on this side of the pond. But there was, so Dodo averred, a greater profusion of tadpoles over the way where they were to be seen dipping their nets.

She glanced at them briefly, and discovered them to be deeply engaged. Perhaps they might not notice if she were to make a quiet retreat. Turning a little, she looked back to the shore behind. Her heart sank, for it seemed almost as large a step to negotiate to get back as it did to go forward to the next stone.

The twins proved not to be too fully occupied to notice her hesitation.

‘Come on, Miss Prue!’

‘It’s easiest to do it quickly. Jump!’

Jump? Prue eyed the target ahead. The twins were bobbing about on the other side.

‘There’s a flat bit right there, see?’

‘Jump on to the flat bit!’

Prue gathered her courage and launched herself forward. She landed, and struggled for balance. But encouragement from the far bank steadied her. The next jump was not as hard, and she gained a little in confidence. It was tricky, but she found that the jar and net in either hand gave her ballast and helped her to balance as she negotiated the stone pathway. Triumphant, she landed on the island, a little breathless, but unharmed.

‘There, that was not so bad,’ she uttered on a laugh.

‘S’easy!’ averred Dodo.

‘Look how many tadpoles I’ve got already,’ said
Lotty, holding up her jar where a number of the black squiggly creatures were swimming around.

Prue eyed them with disfavour. ‘What are you going to do with them?’

‘Keep them and watch them grow into frogs.’

Uneasily wondering where the girls intended to keep the tadpoles, Prue refrained from enquiry. She felt sure she would dislike the answer.

‘You have to get some, Miss Prue.’

Prue suppressed a sigh. ‘Very well.’

Following the twins to the edge of the water, she leaned over at their direction to look into the hollows. Prue had to peer closely, but at last she was able to make out that a great splodge of darkness in the murky deep, which she had taken for vegetation, was in reality a veritable army of black darting dots beneath the water.