Prudence (22 page)

She had just begun to read again the less likely advertisements when the door burst open to admit the twins, in a state of high indignation. Folly woke with a start, and sat blinking green eyes as they dashed up to the day-bed.

‘Miss Prue, the most dreadful thing!’

‘Uncle Julius just told us that Mama wrote to him, and—’

‘Mama won’t let us keep you!’

It was beyond what anyone could endure. Prue dissolved into tears.

Julius regarded his nieces with a deliberate calm that in no way reflected his state of mind. His will to resist, which was unshaken, stood him in good stead.

Lotty was frowning heavily. ‘Uncle Julius, don’t you understand?’

‘She’s
crying
,’ repeated Dodo for the fifth time.

‘Yes, I heard you.’

‘Then what are you going to do about it?’ demanded the more percipient of the pair. ‘You have to do something!’

Julius raised his brows. ‘Why?’

Dodo glared up at him. ‘Last time you were as cross as crabs!’

‘Yes, and you said you was going to beat us,’ averred Lotty feelingly.

A faint smile was drawn from him. ‘Are you in any way to blame this time?’

‘’Course not,’ scoffed Dodo. ‘You told us it, Uncle Julius. You said Mama got us another governess.’

‘But we don’t
want
another governess,’ insisted Lotty. ‘And Miss Prue don’t want to go neither. She wants to stay with us.’

Julius was aware of a tremor inside himself, but he suppressed it. ‘Did she say so?’

‘She said she don’t want to leave here, not really.’

‘Yes, and she cried and cried,’ stated Dodo again.

Lotty turned on her. ‘She didn’t, you noodle. She started, and then she stopped herself. And she said we wasn’t to pay no attention.’

‘Then why are you doing so?’ demanded Julius.

‘Because she—’

‘’Cos we want you to tell Mama to keep her for us,’ cut in Dodo impatiently.

‘Mama will do it if you tell her, I know she will,’ averred Lotty in persuasive tones.

Julius turned away from them and went to the window. He could do it, there was no question. Trixie might have engaged another female, but he was fairly certain he could persuade her to change her mind. Were his own desires out of court, would he, in all conscience, feel justified in recommending Prudence Hursley for the post?

He had thought not, but it could not be denied that his nieces were much improved. He had been impressed with their writing. Once he began to think about it, he had realised that their manners and deportment had also adjusted for the better. And they liked her.

From behind him, he caught whispers. There was a drag at his chest which he attempted to ignore. But its message could not be gainsaid. He was convinced that Lotty and Dodo were motivated purely by their own wishes. That Prudence had wept afforded them all the excuse they needed to demand his aid. But they did not know why she wept! Nor could they judge of the need for this highly desirable parting.

If it was to his advantage to be freed of the tie, then it was essential for Prudence. Nothing could be worse for her than a continued sojourn among members of his family. A clean break was the kindest measure.

As for the twins, they would recover soon enough. And their welfare was far less his concern. They had a mother to care for their future. Prudence Hursley’s future was in his hands—temporarily.

He turned. Two pretty faces watched him expectantly. He gave a comprehensive shrug and spoke with finality.

‘I cannot help you, children. Your mama has other plans, and there the matter ends.’

To his relief, the girls accepted this. They pouted a little, and threw him darkling looks, but surprisingly argued no further.

That evening as he sat at dinner, plagued by the poor appetite that had attended him for several days, the reason for their reticence was borne in upon him with stunning force.

He had just waved away untasted a dish of white veal escalopes, garnished with slices of lemon, fried mushrooms and forcemeat balls, when the footman, who was serving him in place of Creggan on his evening off, was called to the door by a furtive knock.

Julius, lost in his own thoughts, paid no heed. His hand reached out for his wineglass, and, finding it again empty—had he not refilled it only a moment or two ago?—took up the bottle and splashed a further measure into his glass.

He was tossing it back when the footman approached him, bearing a folded billet. The fellow looked doubtful, but held it out.

‘The maid Maggie brought this, sir. It appears that it was sent by the young ladies.’

Julius looked at him blankly. ‘You mean my nieces?’

‘I believe so, sir.’

Now what were those little minxes up to? Was this another attempt to persuade him to intervene with his sister? He unfolded the paper. Its missive was roughly penned, but its message was plain.

Julius was on his feet. ‘Outrageous! Have they run mad?’

‘Sir?’

He became aware of the footman’s startled features. He had not known he had uttered aloud. A curse escaped him, and he addressed himself unthinkingly to the servant.

‘It must be a ruse. A jest! I am persuaded they cannot mean it.’

But already he was throwing his napkin to one side along with the fateful note, and grabbing up one of the candelabra set upon the table. A few strides took him to the door, and he seized the handle, slamming it open. It did not take him many minutes to make the journey into the wing given over to the Chillingham family, but he crammed into them every pent-up frustration of the past few days.

The devil fly away with the girl! This was all her fault. Had she not shown them a laxity of discipline that was bound to redound upon them all? Persuade Trixie of her suitability, indeed! Were it open to him to do it, he would not. A more foolish and hopelessly inadequate female for the purpose could not be imagined. She had done nothing but set his household by the ears from the moment she arrived. With the result, if you please, that the entirety of the domestic staff—with one notable exception, whose stupidity equalled only the governess’s own—had convinced themselves of her imminent advancement to the rank of mistress of the house! A more insane, ridiculous, and utterly futile notion he had never encountered. Willingly could he strangle the wench!

Yet his emotions, upon entering her bedchamber without the preliminary of knocking on the door, only
to discover it empty, took a violent turn in the opposite direction.

God in heaven, but she was not there! He stood for a moment, blank with shock. Then his senses bid him go at once to her parlour. It was early yet. She might be dining.

But as he traversed back along the way he had come, Julius experienced a rising dread that threatened every moment to choke him. The parlour was dimly lit by a single candle on the mantel, and one sweep of the ones he held showed it to be as empty as her chamber, but for the tray upon the table.

He entered quickly and lifted one of the covers. The meal was intact. He caught sight of Folly on the day-bed, standing and blinking in the sudden light.

It struck him poignantly to see the animal alone in here—as if Prudence had deserted it.

But it was the twins who had sent the note. Was he so much a fool? They must have her in their room!

He went out, shutting the parlour door upon the kitten, and once more sped along the corridor towards Prudence’s bedchamber, stopping short at his nieces’ door. He turned the handle and found it locked. Fury ripped through him and he rapped smartly on the wood.

‘Lotty! Dodo! Open this door at once!’

A smothered shriek of fright emanated from the other side. Then an urgent whispering broke out.

Julius banged fiercely on the door.

‘You will open this door immediately, or I shall break it down, I promise you!’

Behind him, he heard the opening of another door, and quickly turned his head. A shadowed form, too small in stature for Prudence, erupted rapidly down the corridor, emitting a flood of French.

‘
Mais, qu’est-ce qui ce passe? Ah, c’est le maître.
What ees zees zat you do,
monsieur
?’

Julius did not bother to answer. ‘Have you a key to this door?’

Yvette jumped. ‘Eet ees lock?’

‘Those minxes have locked themselves inside, yes. Why have you not a key?’

‘I ’ave ze key. I weel fetch.’ She hurried away.

Julius once again thumped upon the wood. ‘Dodo and Lotty, you are in big trouble! Have you Miss Hursley in there?’

There was no other reply than a hushed squeaking, as if the twins had fallen into argument. A thumping of footsteps overlaid it, and he turned to see that several of his servants were hurrying down the corridor towards him from the main house, one of them bearing a candle.

‘Oh, sir!’ came frantically from Maggie. ‘I never knew as the wicked little things would do such a thing! I swear I never knew what was in that note! They give it me when I come for their supper tray, sir.’

Behind the maid, he spied both the footman, who lighted the way, and Wincle. What, was his entire household roused by this event?

‘For heaven’s sake, go away, all of you! Things are bad enough as it is.’

No one obeyed him, and the cook pushed through. ‘Do you let me at ’em, sir! I’ll give them kidnapped!’

‘Wincle, for the lord’s sake, go away! And take the rest of them with you.’

To his intense irritation, Wincle planted herself firmly in the corridor, arms akimbo, determination in her chubby features.

‘I ain’t going nowhere, Mr Rookham, not if my post
depends on it. To think them naughty creatures would play such a trick!’

Before Julius could again request them to depart, a mutter of French was heard, and Yvette had rejoined the party.

‘I ’ave not ze key,
monsieur
. And why? Because zees
enfants
have stole heem!’

‘Stolen the key! Mercy me, whatever will they think of next?’

‘Wincle, take this and be quiet,’ begged Julius wearily, handing over the candelabrum.

‘Seems to me,’ said the cook, ignoring this request, and passing the burden to the maid, ‘as Jacob here ought to smash the lock for you, sir.’

Julius glanced at the brawny young fellow who had remained bashfully in the background. ‘That is the first sensible suggestion anyone has made. However, let me have one last try before we resort to such extremes.’

The cook pushed her way to the door. ‘Let me, sir.’ Setting her face to the keyhole, she bellowed through it. ‘Now see here, young sauceboxes! You’ve to open this door double quick, or it’ll be the worse for you. Here’s the master ready with a stick to beat you, I’ll be bound. Now, are you going to open this door, or are you not?’

So sure was Julius that Prudence was held in the bedchamber that a measure of calm had returned to his mind. He could not but be amused at his cook’s direct methods.

For a moment it appeared that she was to be as unsuccessful as himself, for all that emanated from the other side of the locked door was a desperate conference conducted in excitable undertones. The watchers
outside waited in silence, and then Wincle rose from her bent posture.

‘Well, sir, I never did! Seems as if it’s determined they are, and no mistake.’

But then the key turned in the lock, and the door was cautiously pulled inwards. Two scared faces peered out, and a cacophony burst forth among the servants.

Yvette herded the girls back inside, voluble in complaint, while Wincle and Maggie broke out scolding. All that concerned Julius at that precise moment was to find Prudence. Without ceremony, he swept his way into the bedchamber and cast a quick glance around. Unless she was under the four-poster bed which the twins inhabited, the governess was not there!

Then they must have locked her up in a different room. He turned wrathful eyes upon the miscreants, who were now huddled in the bed, clad only in their nightgowns and clutching each other as they shrank away from the nurse’s shrill complaints. Wincle had given over scolding in order to express her astonishment to her colleagues. In no mood to be trifled with, Julius took command.

‘Silence! Quiet, all of you!’

His voice, cutting across the babble with that authority they all recognised, stopped the noise dead. Julius trod across to the bed, and the nurse gave way before him.

In the relatively dim glow of the available light, the twins looked excessively white. It occurred to Julius that they had frightened themselves as much as anyone else. He sat on the bed, and addressed them with all the mildness they might have expected from Prudence herself.

‘I dare say you did not intend to cause such a stir, but what you have done is very silly indeed. Now, where is Miss Prue? Have you shut her up in some other room in the house?’

The girls exchanged a glance, and then looked at him again, shaking their heads. Julius tried again, his tone almost conversational.

‘She is still not fully recovered, you know. If you have truly kidnapped her, as you say, it could be very dangerous for her.’ He softened his voice the more. ‘Now, are you going to tell me where she is, or do I have to resort to measures I had much rather not undertake?’

Lotty gasped. ‘You mean to beat us?’

Dodo’s face crumpled. ‘I told you he would!’

Julius waited. Behind him the silence was total, although he could feel the suspense in the air. He wondered if the servants believed he would actually do it.

Dodo was whimpering, but Lotty dug her sharply in the ribs with her elbow. ‘Stop it!’

‘But he’s g-going to beat us!’

Lotty bit her lip, and her dark eyes met her uncle’s. Julius remained perfectly still, holding her gaze. For a moment, the challenge held. And then the girl sighed out a defeated breath.

‘She’s in the forester’s hut.’

F
or a moment, Julius did not take in what Lotty meant. The utter impossibility of it prevented belief. And then it sank home. A hollow opened up inside his chest. He hardly knew that he spoke, wholly unaware of the flat menace of his tone.

‘You left her in a hut in the forest, after she has been as near death from exposure as makes no matter? What are you trying to do, kill her outright?’

He saw horror leap into both pairs of eyes. And then they were wailing.

But Julius had no time to deal with their distress. He was up, wholly ignoring everyone but his footman.

‘Jacob, go and find Hessle and meet me outside the west door in five minutes. Tell him to bring torches, and get on a coat and good boots yourself.’

He turned next to the maid, who was staring open-mouthed at the sobbing twins. ‘Maggie, isn’t it?’

She was alert to him in an instant. ‘Yes, sir?’

‘Have quilts and a hot brick ready, and a fire in her chamber. Tea—hot and plenty of it. And then a cup of warm milk. Mrs Wincle will help you. Now, go!’

He did not wait to see whether he was obeyed, but
snapped smartly out of the twins’ room, and headed for the main house and his own chamber, driven by a haunting image of Prudence’s face, deathly pale on her pillows.

She was relieved that she had not ventured forth without the thick Seminary cloak. Huddled within it, with the hood up, Prue had buried herself inside the heap of straw, just as the forester had buried the girls that earlier time. The intense cold she had felt at first had faded, along with hunger and the wakeful thoughts that had plagued her.

At first she had done nothing but rail against her own stupidity. How could she have been so blind? Why could she not have seen through the trick the twins had played upon her? Well did she know their fund of ingenuity, their ability to act a part! Only it had not occurred to her, lost in her own despair, that they would use so dreadful a ruse to try to get their own way. After she had expressly forbidden them to act in the matter, too!

‘It is not for you to decide, my dears, and we must all be content with the situation.’

‘But you ain’t content, Miss Prue,’ had protested Lotty.

‘You cried!’ Dodo had accused.

Prue had not known how to defend herself, for the true cause of her distress had little to do with the twins. She had temporized.

‘That is partly because I am still a little unwell, and my nerves are shaky.’

Four dark eyes had stared at her. Lotty had frowned, but it was Dodo who had put her finger on it.

‘But you was
sad
.’

‘Yes, and so are we!’ claimed Lotty.

Gathering them into a warm embrace, Prue had thanked them, but her will had not altered. Mr Rookham must not be troubled in the matter.

‘Naturally I am sad to leave you both, but you must not try to get your uncle to interfere. I had not expected to remain with you for long, for your future was uncertain. Your uncle told me so at the outset. Your mama must be the best judge of what will suit you.’

She had thought that the twins had accepted her dictum. They had looked at each other with that sort of conspiratorial signal they seemed always to understand between them, and she had heard no more of it. Until, that was, Dodo had come to her parlour in a frenzy of panic.

‘Lotty has gone to the forest! I told her not to, but she wouldn’t listen to me nohow. She said as she was going to run away to the hut, and not come back until Uncle Julius said you could stay with us!’

Shock had made Prue abandon her usual caution. Had it been excitement in Dodo’s dark eyes, rather than the fright for which she had taken it? The child had played her part only too well. Prue had been thankful that she was now steady upon her feet, for the thought uppermost in her mind had been a determination to fetch Lotty back before Mr Rookham caught wind of the matter.

She had gone as quickly as she could to her bedchamber, in order to don suitable footgear and throw on the woollen cloak over the linsey-woolsey gown. Dodo had refused to remain at home. Instead, suitably clad in a duffle coat, she had frisked at Prue’s side in an inexplicable state of high glee—which was all too readily explained now!

It had not taken long to reach the forest, for the way had been clear. But it had been another matter finding the hut. Prue had begun to entertain fears that they might not do so before the light failed. By the time they had rediscovered the fallen trunk which had served for the twins’ first refuge on that fatal day, Prue had found herself flagging. Her breath had shortened, and she had felt considerably less stable upon her feet. But the need to find Lotty had kept her on the move.

By good fortune—or pre-arrangement?—Dodo had apparently recognised landmarks that led them in the right direction. The hut had come into sight at last, and relief had swept through Prue’s veins. It had been short-lived.

The door of the hut was latched, with slots either side into which the forester was used to place a bar to prevent the door accidentally flying open. But the bar had not been there.

Prue had called for Lotty as she lifted the latch and peered into the gloom beyond. No sound had come from within, and she’d had no hesitation in pulling the door open and pushing into the hut.

Before she well knew what had happened, the square of light behind her had disappeared as the door had been thrust to. Plunged into relative darkness, Prue had whirled about, alerted to the sounds of a whispered conversation and a clump and thud that signalled the barring of the door from the outside.

She had not recognised it for what it was at once, but upon reaching for the door, it had soon been borne in upon her that she had been locked in. She had called out to the culprits in no uncertain fury.

‘What in the world are you doing? Dodo? Or is that
you, Lotty? Have you barred the door? What do you mean by it?’

Lotty’s voice had come through to her, a trifle muffled by the thickness of the thatched walls.

‘It’s all right, Miss Prue. We won’t keep you there long.’

Shock had ripped through Prue’s chest. ‘Keep me here? Have you run mad?’

‘’Course we ain’t!’ had come Dodo’s shrill response. ‘And when Uncle Julius says he’ll tell Mama to keep you, we’ll let you out again.’

Prue’s mind had blanked of all notions but the horrifying fact. The twins were holding her to ransom!

She had barely heard Lotty’s furious protest to her sister. ‘You wasn’t supposed to say it, noodle!’

‘It don’t matter. It’s better if she knows, then she won’t be scared in there.’

‘Scared? Don’t you know her better than that? Miss Prue ain’t scared of nothing!’

But Prue, coming a little to her senses, had been altogether swamped with fear. Not at the thought of being left alone in the confines of the forester’s hut. But at the notion of what Mr Rookham’s emotions might be upon hearing of this latest escapade! The effect upon him was all too likely to be the opposite of that which the twins intended.

If anything had been needed to prove to him how unfitted she was to be in charge of two such enterprising imps, this must truly suffice. Who but a confirmed ninnyhammer would have fallen into so obvious a trap? Oh, she was altogether the goose he called her!

This self-critical state of mind had been superseded by a slow gathering of realisation of the even more critical state of her body. Prue had tried in vain to
witness the departure of the twins through the cut-out window. She could hear them, but they had been making away from the other side of the hut. As she had remained standing there, railing at her own inadequacies and gazing profitlessly into the unrelenting forest, the light had begun to fade.

With it, the chill of evening had seeped bit by bit into her consciousness. And then her legs had almost given way, and dizziness had wreathed her brain. She had caught at the window’s edge, tugging at her breath. Lord, let not her frail and weakened frame betray her now!

The thought of Mr Rookham’s wrath at finding her health once more endangered, had made her seek for a way to extract herself. Waiting only for the dizziness to recede, she had embarked upon a tentative exploration.

The window was both too high and too small to afford her an exit. The door opened outwards, and she could by no means pull it in the opposite direction, as she had discovered when she tugged mightily at its stubborn bulk. The thatch at the walls, when she had tried to penetrate its woody interior, had proved obdurate against her failing strength. And she could scarce reach the roof, which in all likelihood was as stiffly firm as anything else in the place. Why in the world could the hut not have been tumbledown?

It was clear that there was to be no escape. But it would not be from neglect of herself that Prue became once again bereft of her body’s warmth, she had determined. And she had burrowed into the straw, there to shiver for some little time, and await what must be an inevitable rescue. She had soon begun to feel the pangs of hunger along with the cold.

Time had dragged. And at last lost meaning. By now the cold had numbed her, and she lay in a semi-conscious state, between waking and dreaming. Drowsily she wondered whether the twins had dared to carry out their plan. Suppose their nerve failed them? They would never find their way here in the dark. In that case she was doomed, for she did not think she would survive the night.

The thought, floating through her mind, afforded an unexpected balm. She had not thought of dying, but had not Mr Rookham said she had been near death? Well, if it came, she would embrace it. There could be no pain in death, for she would not be there to feel it.

A faint pang smote her for the realisation that she might die without seeing him again. She could not forget him, for she carried his image in her mind—and death, be it never so cruel, could not erase it. Only she would have liked to see him just once more. To gaze upon the steely eyes and the jutting nose, even if there was fierceness in his looks. To hear again the sound of his voice, whether teasing or wrathful.

‘My poor Prue!’

Yes, or gentle. So gentle his touch, his fingers at her cheek. Was that a sigh she heard?

‘She is cold, but not as icy as the last time. Hold the torch closer!’

Brisk. He was ever brisk, she recalled.

‘Prudence, look at me!’

Commanding he was. Even in the shadowed face as it hung over her, the dark locks falling forward in a halo of light that surrounded his head, she could see the strength of command.

‘She is barely conscious.’

‘Shall I carry her, sir?’

‘You keep hold of the torch, Jacob. Prue, listen to me! I am going to lift you now.’

Lift her? But was she not in bed? She was floating in the air. Warmth was close at her side. Only she had not strength to prise open her eyelids to find its source.

‘Keep that door open!’

A murmuring assailed her ears, and a sense of motion. Her arm was awkwardly placed and she flailed in an effort to pull it in. There was a reeling in the air, and a flare of light at her eyes.

‘Stay close before me. I will follow your light. Hessle, you lead the way ahead.’

What strange bobbing of that flare in the darkness? Then it was gone, and she rolled her head into the warmth.

‘Prudence, are you awake?’

It rumbled at her ear, and a small corner of the mist lifted. Prue’s awareness heightened. There was something she must say to him. Her voice was not as strong as she wished.

‘I knew you would find me.’

‘I could wish it had been sooner.’

He had heard her. She recognised an undertone of anger, and remembered what she must tell him.

‘If I died, it was not for want of care. I tried, Mr Rookham. I did try.’

She felt his hold tighten, and there was a roughness in his tone. ‘I know. You did well, Prue.’

But had she died? She thought perhaps she was still alive, although the strangeness of his advent had all the makings of a dream. She no longer understood why she had spoken in that way. Nor could she think what it meant, that he should be carrying her. If that was what he did?

‘Where are you taking me?’

‘Home, and to bed.’

Then it must be a dream. Not all her waking longings had dared to take her to this. A trembling awoke in her breast.

‘Poor girl, you are cold!’

A faint gurgle escaped her. ‘No, I am lost in the wonder of it. I have never allowed myself to dream this far before. A kiss, perhaps. But your bed!’

An odd quality in the silence, in the way he held her, arrested her attention. An effort of will thrust her eyes open. Above her she noted the dark shadow of his jawline. She wanted to touch him, but her fingers were unavailable. One arm was tucked tightly out of her reach. With an effort, she managed to throw up the other from where it hung, landing with a thump at his chest. He looked down.

‘Mr Rookham, I shall not object to it.’

She was abruptly aware that she must have been in motion, for everything became still. His features were visible to her. A blaze at his eyes thrilled her, and the guttural note in his voice had a meaning that spoke to her depths.

‘You don’t know what you are saying, Prudence. But I beg you to keep mum, for we are not alone.’

Then she must be obedient to his wish. She snuggled into his chest, and thought she heard it pumping. A savage rhythm that stirred the blood in her veins.

The motion resumed, lulling her into sleep. When she next became aware, there were hands at work upon her clothes, and a muttered conference above her head.

‘Do you turn her, Mrs Wincle, while I pull off the gown.’

‘Never you fret, Maggie. I’ll hold her up and you can tug it off straight.’

Prue found herself in a sitting posture, firmly held against a cushioning support. It did not seem worthwhile to protest, and she submitted to the drag of her clothing. Before long she found herself tucked into a cocoon of warmth, where she lay blissful and undisturbed for a while.

‘Has she had anything to eat or drink?’

The new voice penetrated, where the others, unceasing and unnoticed, had become part of the surroundings. Prue tried to come up out of the fog of lethargy. Her head was lifted, and something placed at her lips.