Penelope Goes to Portsmouth

by M C Beaton

  Lord Augustus, clutching Penelope, watched the fire take hold. And then he saw Hannah leading Benjamin around the side of the house. ‘In the cart,’ he called.

  Benjamin was bundled into the cart, with Hannah after him.

  ‘We cannot leave,’ moaned Penelope. ‘We cannot leave them all to die in the flames.’

  And then round the side of the house, from the servants’ entrance, came the staff, led by Lady Carsey. ‘They’ve all got out by the back stairs,’ shouted Lord Augustus, just as Lady Carsey saw them. He thrust Penelope in the cart and jumped up after her as Mr Cato urged the cart and horse down the drive, whipping the horse into a gallop.

  They hung grimly on to the sides as the old cart bucked along the rutted roads.

  Finally Mr Cato slowed the horse to a canter. ‘Got clear,’ he said. ‘Was it you, Miss Pym, who set the place alight?’

  ‘I did not mean to,’ said Hannah, trembling with shock. ‘I waved the candle and waved the candle but could not see a sign of anyone. I tried again and that must have been when I set the curtains alight. Oh, she will have all the police and all the justices in the land after me.’

  ‘Calm yourself,’ said Lord Augustus. ‘She will not dare. We have Benjamin, and although Benjamin cannot speak, we know he can write. He can testify that he was taken away by force and imprisoned. She cannot risk that.’

  Hannah heaved a sigh of relief, then her face clouded. ‘My good trunk. I left it behind.’

  ‘Were all your clothes in it?’ asked Penelope.

  ‘No, only rocks to weigh it down. But it was a good and faithful trunk. I have also lost my …’

  ‘What?’ demanded Mr Cato over his shoulder.

  ‘Nothing,’ said Hannah. She had been about to say, ‘I have also lost my precious reference,’ but only Penelope knew Hannah had been a servant and she did not want any of the others to know.

  Instead she said, ‘Why did you not see the candle the first time I waved it, Lord Augustus?’

  ‘I must have fallen asleep,’ he said blandly.

  ‘Miss Wilkins?’

  ‘I was so dreadfully tired, I must have dropped asleep as well,’ said Penelope in a low voice.

  ‘Well, I think we have had our revenge on Lady Carsey,’ said Lord Augustus. ‘We shall not be hearing from her again. But I am afraid there is no rest for us this night. We must rouse Miss Trenton and the coachman and be on our way. We shall swear the landlord to secrecy. He will no doubt be delighted to hear what you have done, Miss Pym.’

  5

  One road leads to London,

  One road runs to Wales,

  My road leads me seawards

  To the white dipping sails.

  John Masefield

  Miss Trenton did not sleep. She found she could not. She longed to hear the return of the others, to learn that the footman had not been found, and it had all been for nothing. That way, she could comfort herself with doing the right thing by not getting involved in such a hare-brained adventure.

  Many harsh things had been said to Miss Trenton in the past, but none had struck home like the remark made to her by Mr Cato: that it was her lack of adventure which had kept her a maid.

  It was not true, she kept telling herself. What absolute folly, to expect her, a gentlewoman, to embark on such a ploy to rescue a mere footman, and perhaps get arrested herself in doing so. Such was not an adventure but pure stupidity. A little voice in her head kept nagging at her that no one had expected her to go, but she tried not to listen to it.

  Then she heard the rumble of the cart arriving. She was still fully dressed, so she made her way downstairs in time to join the landlord, his wife, the coachman, and guard, who appeared to have been waiting as anxiously as she had been herself, but for different reasons.

  The landlord lit the lamps in the low-raftered tap and stirred up the fire.

  The inn door opened and the first thing Miss Trenton saw with a sinking heart was the bloodied Benjamin, supported by Mr Cato and Lord Augustus. All, with the exception of Miss Trenton, demanded to know what had happened. Benjamin was tenderly placed in front of the fire and given brandy. Hannah and Penelope entered, fully recovered from their fright, their eyes shining with excitement. Lord Augustus told of the fire and Hannah of finding Benjamin in the undercellar.

  There was a sour taste like bile in Miss Trenton’s mouth. She could not possibly imagine herself bailing out a barrel of wine, or of creeping about in the dark.

  She affected to be horrified. ‘But we shall all be arrested!’ she cried. ‘Setting poor Lady Carsey’s house on fire.’

  Mr Cato looked at her with contempt as they all took their places round the fire.

  ‘Calm yourself,’ said Lord Augustus. ‘She would not dare. Miss Pym, find your notebook and let us see if Benjamin is strong enough to write his adventures.’

  Hannah did as she was told and as Benjamin wrote busily, the landlord said, ‘No one shall hear a thing from me. You have my word on it. But they will be looking for you.’

  ‘Yes, we must leave soon,’ said Hannah. ‘Be so good as to pack, Miss Trenton.’

  ‘I had not unpacked,’ said Miss Trenton.

  ‘Beats all,’ said the coachman, his eyes round with wonder. ‘Best adventure I ever did hear. Like a book, it is. I’ll be getting the coach ready and we’ll be off as soon as we can.’

  Hannah took the notebook from Benjamin and said, ‘He says he remembers being struck on the head at the inn and the next thing he knew he was lying on the floor of the carriage. He tried to struggle up and they struck him again. He regained consciousness in the prison in which I found him. He has had nothing to eat or drink.’

  ‘I’ll prepare something for the poor man to eat in the carriage,’ said the landlord.

  ‘Benjamin’s head needs bathing,’ exclaimed Penelope. ‘Can you also bring me a basin of warm water and a flannel?’

  ‘We should really shave his head and put a plaster of vinegar and brown paper on that nasty bump,’ said Mr Cato.

  ‘Haven’t time for that,’ retorted Hannah briskly. ‘We can rest as soon as we reach an inn as far away from here as possible. Lady Carsey may have sent her servants to look for us. She saw us in the light of the fire.’

  Lord Augustus thought for a few moments. ‘No, I do not think she will want us found. There is Benjamin to explain away, you see.’

  ‘Then now that you have this … this servant,’ said Miss Trenton angrily, ‘why do you not take him to the nearest magistrate so that Lady Carsey may be arrested?’

  ‘Because we would all be held in Esher during the lengthy inquiries,’ pointed out Lord Augustus. ‘Besides, the magistrate favours Lady Carsey, and, although finding her guilty, may bring a separate charge against Miss Pym. It could be proved, you know, that Miss Pym had deliberately masqueraded as a servant for the sole purpose of setting the house alight. The jury would be composed of local people, and juries have been bribed or frightened by such as Lady Carsey before. I think we are all well out of it. But, just in case, I think we should leave.’

  ‘You are an excellent woman, Miss Pym!’ cried Mr Cato suddenly. ‘What say you to an offer to sail with me to America as my wife?’

  There was a startled silence.

  A small glow of gratification spread through Hannah Pym’s thin body. She did not want to marry Mr Cato, but how wonderful to get a proposal of marriage.

  ‘Sir, I am most honoured,’ said Hannah, ‘but I fear I am too used to my single state to want to change it now.’

  ‘Think on it,’ said Mr Cato cheerfully. ‘We should deal excellent well together.’

  Now Miss Trenton’s fury knew no bounds. She could just about bear Lord Augustus’s attentions to the beautiful Penelope. But the plain-featured Miss Pym getting a proposal of marriage! It was too much. She felt quite tearful and weak after the spasm of rage passed.

  ‘I shall collect my belongings,’ she said shakily. No one seemed to take any notice of her leaving. Penelope was ten
derly bathing Benjamin’s head and Lord Augustus was watching her. Mr Cato was beaming at Hannah and the coachman and guard were surveying them all in open-mouthed admiration.

  Soon they were all back in the coach, Hannah having had to buy a fusty old trunk from the landlord in which to put her clothes. She sat making calculations as the coach lurched through the night. She would need to buy another suit of livery for Benjamin, and a new trunk.

  Penelope yawned and shivered. She had not bothered to change her wet clothes. Her hair lay in damp tendrils against her cheek. She could not stop thinking about Lord Augustus and that kiss, the first she had ever received. It had been sweetness itself, but he was an experienced man and was probably expert at seducing women. She looked up at him and he gave her a lazy smile and she blushed and looked away. Soon her eyelids began to droop and she fell asleep, her head finally coming to rest on his shoulder. Lord Augustus put an arm about her to cradle her against him and finally fell asleep himself.

  Lady Carsey was once more in bed. The fire engine had arrived quickly and only a small morning-room on the first floor had been gutted. The rest of the house was intact. She had been very lucky. The pale light of dawn was filtering through the curtains. She had been awake a long time, fearing any moment the arrival of the police. But it began to occur to her that those wretched fiends of the stage-coach planned to leave her alone. Relief that there was to be no retribution was quickly followed by a choking rage and a desire for revenge. Her hatred this time was not focused on Lord Augustus but on Miss Hannah Pym. That creature had had the temerity to use her own name, as that reference had proved. No one ever crossed Lady Carsey and got away with it! She lay awake a long time, making plans.

  The weary coachman drew up at the Anchor in Liphook. Penelope awoke to find her head resting on Lord Augustus’s chest, and, what was worse, one of her hands resting on that gentleman’s thigh. She drew away from him as if scorched.

  As the passengers alighted, Miss Trenton fell into step beside Lord Augustus. ‘Did you mark how wantonly she lay against you?’ she hissed. ‘Surely that bears out what I have told you?’

  He looked down at her under drooping eyelids and then said clearly and precisely, ‘You are an unlovely woman, Miss Trenton, because you have a carping, mean, and unlovely soul,’ and then he strode before her into the inn. Miss Trenton stood stock-still and burst into tears, but it was a lachrymose age when everyone prided themselves on their ability to cry, and so no one even turned around to inquire why she was so distressed.

  The passengers were weary, but on the coachman’s reminding them that they were now only twenty-six miles from Portsmouth, all agreed to dine and go on. Benjamin wrote that he felt well enough to stand the rest of the journey.

  They dined quickly and then returned to the coach. Now no one was asleep, except Benjamin. Hannah fretted that the journey’s end was near and she saw little hope of making a match between Penelope and Lord Augustus. Miss Trenton was worrying whether her friend would be able to give her a job. Mr Cato was regretting the adventure; the time taken on it probably did mean he would need to wait in Portsmouth for another ship. Penelope was beginning to dread her father’s disappointment. Lord Augustus drearily contemplated a boring stay with his uncle and would not admit to himself that Penelope’s comparing him to a vulture waiting for the old man to die had anything to do with his sudden distaste for the scheme.

  The coach finally creaked and rumbled into the yard at the George in Portsmouth. Hannah scrubbed at the steamy glass of the window with her handkerchief to see if she could see the sea, but there was only the light and bustle of the inn yard.

  Miss Trenton and Mr Cato said they would put up for the night at the inn, as did Hannah. Hannah wanted to spend some time in Portsmouth, buy Benjamin a new livery and get a physician to examine the wound on his head. Lord Augustus said he would stay at the inn as well. It was too late to rouse his uncle.

  Penelope felt lost. Her father, she knew, would have been watching and waiting for news of the Portsmouth coach. He was no doubt waiting for her inside the inn. She would go back to her old cosseted and isolated life and probably, she thought miserably, no more adventures would happen to her ever again.

  And as she walked towards the inn, there was her father, small and squat, wearing a tie-wig slightly askew over his weather-beaten face. She ran straight into his outstretched arms, babbling she was so very sorry about the seminary, but that it wasn’t her fault, and she had had such adventures, and a tumbled tale of Benjamin and Lady Carsey fell on the bewildered chandler’s ears.

  ‘Here now, chuck,’ said Mr Wilkins. ‘Let us go into the inn and take a dish of tea and you shall tell me all, for your mother is sore disappointed in you.’ Which Penelope, through experience, took to mean that he was disappointed, for her mother, she knew, never voiced an opinion on anything.

  ‘Pray, Papa,’ said Penelope, ‘would you please ask the other passengers to dine with us? They will help me explain what happened.’

  Glad to have his daughter safe, Mr Wilkins readily agreed. By general consent, although Miss Trenton could be heard to sniff loudly, Benjamin was allowed to sit down with them.

  Mr Wilkins took the head of the table. He had been introduced to all, and was excited that his Penelope had been having her adventures in the company of a personable young lord. Penelope’s disgrace at the seminary was quite driven out of his mind.

  He listened enraptured to the tale of their exploits, his eyes occasionally studying Lord Augustus hopefully, but that young man was lounging at his ease and not once had he even glanced in Penelope’s direction.

  Miss Trenton, for once, toyed with her food. She could not believe that Penelope was going to get off scot-free. After all the adventures in which Miss Trenton did not feature were repeated over again to the admiring Mr Wilkins, she coughed genteelly and said, ‘I am sure you are delighted to have your daughter safe with you, Mr Wilkins, and will forgive her for her dreadful behaviour at the seminary.’

  ‘What’s this?’ demanded Mr Wilkins fiercely. ‘I got a letter from that Miss Jasper saying as how some master had become spoony over my Penelope. I was angry at first, but just look at her, my lord. Ain’t she enough to turn any man’s head?’

  ‘Indeed, she is,’ drawled Lord Augustus. His blue eyes turned on Miss Trenton. ‘Although I must say that I was extremely shocked by Miss Trenton’s disclosure that the music master had only proposed to Miss Wilkins because he felt, having ruined her, that it was the best he could do.’

  There was an appalled silence. Miss Trenton turned quite white.

  ‘And how did you come by this information, ma’am?’ asked Mr Wilkins awfully.

  Miss Trenton gave a little choking sound.

  ‘I will tell you,’ said Hannah Pym furiously. ‘I will tell you, Mr Wilkins, how it came about. Miss Trenton, because of sour jealousy, made the whole thing up. Is that not so, Miss Trenton?’

  ‘Lord Augustus is mistaken,’ said Miss Trenton. ‘I said no such thing!’

  ‘Are you calling me a liar?’ demanded Lord Augustus maliciously.

  Miss Trenton shot to her feet. ‘You are all horrible. All of you,’ she screamed. ‘I hate you all!’

  And with that, she ran from the room.

  ‘There you have it,’ said Lord Augustus languidly. ‘The explanation for your daughter’s disgrace at the seminary and silly Miss Trenton’s remarks is quite simple, Mr Wilkins. Her appearance not only excites admiration but jealousy. I gather she has been kept much at home. Surely there are balls and assemblies she could attend in Portsmouth and young people of her own age she could meet? She is much to be pitied.’

  ‘I’ll have none o’ that,’ retorted Mr Wilkins. ‘She’s had the best of everything.’

  ‘In material terms, yes,’ agreed Lord Augustus.

  Mr Wilkins bit back the angry reply he had been about to make. He had no desire to quarrel with a man he was already marking out as his future son-in-law.

  Instead
he said with a forced laugh, ‘I must be taking my puss home. Here is my address, my lord.’ He handed over his card. ‘You will no doubt be calling.’

  Hannah waited hopefully.

  ‘I am afraid not,’ said Lord Augustus. ‘I shall be much occupied while I am here.’

  Penelope felt exactly as if he had slapped her. All her fears about that kiss were true. He had only been amusing himself.

  ‘Coming, Papa,’ she said meekly. ‘Papa, do give Miss Pym a card and tell her to call, for she has been kindness itself.’

  ‘Gladly,’ said Mr Wilkins, taking out his card-case again.

  Hannah hated to see Penelope leave. She felt they had all become a sort of ill-assorted family, and now the family was breaking up, with no happy ending for anyone but Benjamin.

  After Penelope and her father had left, Hannah sent Benjamin up to bed, telling him to stay there in the morning until she had found the services of a doctor to attend him. Mr Cato yawned and remarked he was devilish tired and took himself off. Hannah was left alone with Lord Augustus.

  ‘I do not know how you do it, Miss Pym,’ said Lord Augustus admiringly. ‘I am nigh dead with fatigue, and yet you look bright as a button.’

  ‘I cannot help thinking you might have found time, my lord, to call on Mr Wilkins.’

  ‘You mean Mr Wilkins’s daughter. She is a very pretty little girl, Miss Pym. What more would you have?’

  He looked down his nose at her, his eyes cold, as if defying her to suggest he should even contemplate paying court to the daughter of a chandler.

  Hannah had, of course, been just about to pursue that matter further. But she abruptly changed tack.

  ‘I did expect you might want to call,’ she said, ‘and it was quite silly of me. Despite Mr Wilkins’s ambitions, I really cannot see him in the end throwing his daughter away on a penniless lord. I thought he seemed a man of good sense.’

  ‘So you do not think I am a prize in any way?’ mocked Lord Augustus.

  ‘Of course not,’ said Hannah comfortably. ‘Be so good as to ring the bell and ask the landlord to fetch tea, I do enjoy a dish of bohea before bedtime.’