The Reckoning (47 page)

The visit was said not to be intended for a long one, so Mrs
Pendlebury had to move fast. The earliest possible leaving of
cards, the earliest possible formal call, the most rapid advance
of intimacy was called for. At first all seemed to go well –
Héloïse was anxious to secure society and companionship for
Sophie, and though she found Mrs Pendlebury bombastic and
overbearing, there was no doubt that she was respectable, and
knew everyone.

The fly in the ointment from Mrs Pendlebury's point of
view was that though Sophie and Prudence took to each other with quite surprising rapidity, no spark whatever was kindled
between her and Fred.

‘
But, Mama,' he protested when she took him to task,
‘she's hardly more than a child. What interest could such a
little schoolroom miss have for me?'

‘
She's no child,' Mrs Pendlebury snapped. 'For goodness'
sake, Fred, have a little sense! She's nineteen years old –'

‘
Well she doesn't look it,' he snapped back sulkily. 'A
skinny little dowd, no style, no face, no figure, and what –'

‘
She's niece to Lady Theakston, she had her come-out in
Brussels, and the Duke of Wellington was a guest at her ball,
that's what! She was betrothed within weeks of her
début,
and
if he hadn't been killed at Waterloo she wouldn't be single
now. And don't talk nonsense about style, which you know
nothing about – Lady Morland dresses her just as she ought,
considering her late misfortune. All you need to remember is
that she's to inherit the Hobsbawn Mills, and Morland Place
too, for all we know.'

‘
I thought there was a son?'

‘
Two sons. But Miss Sophie is the eldest, and Morland
Place is not entailed: it's Lady Morland's to leave as she
pleases. So you see, my darling,' Mrs Pendlebury put on a
coaxing voice, 'she'd be an excellent match for you, and she's
a very sweet girl indeed. Prudence dotes on her already.'

‘
Well, let Prudence marry her then,' said Fred cleverly.
'I
don't want such an ugly little black thing!’

Mrs Pendlebury's mouth became grim. 'I tell you what,
Fred Pendlebury, Jack Withington's been talking of trying for
her, and if you don't do as I say and make up to the girl, he'll
snatch her away from under your nose, and then you'll be the
laughing-stock, after I've taken such pains to give you the
start of him. So now!'

‘
Jack's my particular friend. He wouldn't do that,' said
Fred, but her words had given him pause. There was no
doubt that Jack was more popular with the ladies, and though
they had been friends all their lives, there was a certain
rivalry between them which was not always entirely friendly.
If Jack was indeed thinking of Miss Morland, it was perhaps
time that Fred had a closer look at her, to see if he was
missing something.

*

In
the meantime, the object of this speculation had gone out
in the carriage with Prudence Pendlebury to visit her sister
Agnes, now Mrs Percy Droylsden – a lively, snub-nosed creature, full of fun and gossip, who enjoyed every minute of her
freedom as a young matron. She examined Sophie in a
delightfully frank way, admired her pelisse and hat, and
surveyed her countenance thoroughly.

‘
You are very like your sister Fanny, you know,' she
concluded cheerfully. 'Don't you think so, Pru?'

‘
Not very,' said Prudence shortly. 'You do chatter so,
Annie.'

‘
Oh but she is! About the eyes, you know, and the mouth. There is a certain something of Fanny there.'

‘
I am not pretty as Fanny was,' Sophie said with a faint
smile. 'But I loved her dearly.'

‘
Well so did I,' Agnes declared, 'and I don't care what
Mama says. I remember the very day she met Mr Hawker,
here in Manchester – don't you, Pru? She was with us in the
carriage, and he rode up and touched his cap to us. He was
the handsomest, grandest fellow in the world. I don't wonder
she wanted to marry him! I would have. And I don't believe
for a moment it was the case that she had to –'

‘
Annie!'
Miss Pendlebury was shocked and scarlet.

Agnes clapped her hand over her mouth. 'Oh my tongue!'
she said. 'I do beg your pardon, dear Miss Morland! You must
ignore almost everything I say. Percy says I'm a dreadful
prattle-box, but I don't mean any harm, you know. Well, you have caused a stir in Manchester all right! I can't tell you the
parties that are being planned for your sake.'

‘
For my sake?' Sophie said, puzzled.

‘
Oh yes! Why, every mother with an unmarried son is
already sending to the printers for her invitations. I dare say
the mantuamakers will make you their patron saint after this, for every party means a dozen new dresses in this town, espe
cially as it's said your gowns come straight from Paris!'

‘
They don't. And why should anyone want to marry me?'
Sophie asked, perplexed.

‘
Ignore her,' Prudence advised firmly. 'Annie, do try for a
little conduct, even though you're a married woman.'

‘
Oh, you are excessively modest, Miss Morland!' said
Agnes, ignoring her sister. 'But I do beg you will not be
tempted to marry my brother Fred. He is the dullest creature
in the world, and cares about nothing but his dinner and his neck-cloths! Now I think, upon the whole, that you ought to
marry Mr Farraline, for he's excessively handsome, and so
romantic – unless you don't care for fair hair, of course? I
prefer a dark man myself, but one has to make sacrifices in
the line of duty, and I'd overlook a great deal for the sake of
his lovely Grecian profile.’

Sophie smiled at her nonsense. 'Thank you, but Mr Farra
line is not likely to give me the opportunity to accept or reject
him.'

‘
But you do know him?' Agnes seemed disappointed. 'That
wasn't just a hum? Everyone says he called on you at Hobs
bawn House.’

Sophie was conscious of blushing. 'Yes, he did call twice,
and left cards, but unfortunately we were out both times.'

‘
I knew it! And he means to have you to dinner – or his
mother does, I forget what Lizzie Ardwick said precisely.'

‘
I know nothing of that. I met him and his mother in
Scarborough last year, when I was there with my cousin, but I
assure you he is not interested in me in the slightest.'

‘
Oh well, never mind. Perhaps he might come round to it –and as long as you don't marry Fred – though I should dearly
love you as a sister, you sweet thing! But however –’

The door was opened at that moment, and the butler
announced Miss Withington and Mr Jack Withington. In the
moment before they followed their names into the room,
Agnes just had time to exclaim under her breath to her sister, ‘Well, of all the impudence! That's just like Jack Withington,
to use Libertine to scrape an acquaintance with Miss
Morland!’

And Miss Pendlebury replied in a fierce whisper, 'Alber
tine! Her name is Albertine! One day you'll forget and say it
in front of her!’

Sophie suppressed a smile at the exchange, and then
brother and sister were upon them. Miss Withington was a
small, plump young woman between Agnes and Prudence in
age. Her brother Jack was a contemporary and friend of both
Fred Pendlebury and Percy Droylsden; a big man, handsome
in a coarse-featured, outdoor way. He had a hunting-field
voice, a boisterous manner and an all-appraising eye.

‘
Well, Annie !' he exclaimed as he came in. 'Albertine was
wild to visit you this morning, so I thought I'd come along
and see how you were. Is Percy keeping you in ribbons and
things? Oh yes, I see he is. Is that a new chiffonier? Thought
so! How d'e do, Miss Pendlebury? No need to ask how you are
– you're looking exceedingly handsome, as always! That's a
killing smart hat, I must say.’

These pleasantries were thrown out broadcast to the
sisters, but his glistening eye was roving all the time towards
Sophie. Miss Withington had crossed the room to make her
own quiet greetings and sit down on the sofa next to Prud
ence, and since Jack was still standing expectantly, staring at Sophie, Agnes was obliged to make the introduction.

‘
Miss Morland, may I present our particular friend Miss
Withington? And her brother Jack, who is a friend of my
husband's.’

Miss Withington exchanged a civil nod with Sophie, but her brother bounced across the room to take Sophie's hand
almost before she had offered it and bowed over it with a
flourish that made her wriggle. 'Miss Morland, how do you do? I've heard so much about you. I must confess Albertine and I have been dying to meet you ever since we knew you
were in Manchester. We knew your sister Fanny, you know.
She was one of Albertine's dearest friends. They were quite
inseparable, you know.’

Albertine looked at her feet and grew pink, as Agnes and
Prudence exchanged a glance of indignation at this appropri
ation. Jack Withington took the seat nearest Sophie and as he
drew breath to begin a new gambit, Prudence spoke up in a
chillingly clear voice to fill the gap and prevent him.

‘
Do you go to the Benevolent Society meeting tomorrow, Albertine? I must tell you, Miss Morland,' turning to Sophie
before Albertine could answer, 'that we have a very active
society here in Manchester. There are so many sad cases
needing our help, and Miss Withington and I do all we can. I
do think it is up to us to lead the way. People look to those of
our rank in society for an example, and I'm always sorry I
can't interest Agnes in our activities.'

‘
Oh, I have enough to do,' Agnes, said lightly. 'I leave all that
sort of thing to you, Pru. Besides, you know it annoys Mama.'

‘
It doesn't annoy her. She used to think I ought to spend
my time in other ways –'

‘
Yes, buying clothes and getting beaux!' said the irrepres
sible Agnes.

but she has changed her opinion now,' Miss Pendlebury
finished with dignity.

‘
What is the Benevolent Society?' Sophie asked, feeling
something was expected of her.

‘
It's for the betterment of the condition of mill-workers,'
Prudence said, watching Jack Withington out of the corner of her eye and keeping the ball determinedly in the air. 'Some of
them are in the most appalling ignorance and want, and all of
them are in need of guidance.'