“Quite so,” said Alverston, “then as there is nobody else at this gathering tall enough for me to waltz with without it being excruciatingly uncomfortable for me, save perhaps your cousin Mrs Knightley who seems happy to waltz with her husband – and that of course is quite unexceptionable – I shall sit out and tell you what I may.”
He procured a glass of lemonade for Prudence and made her laugh with the explanation that Aunt Kat had become in the nursery Aunt Mouser for her predatory air over learning some new on-dit.
“My brothers and sisters and I always knew she was good to be touched for the odd bob or two if we were punting on the river tick at school; and for the concomitantly larger sums a boy at Oxford occasionally needs,” he said, “which was mostly my brother Everard’s need; he was more often in trouble than I. And my half brother Laurence; he was Arthur’s father. An indiscretion of my father’s before his marriage; Laurence, I regret to say, fought a duel and died of his wounds two days later leaving a young son who had already lost his mother to consumption. ”
“Excuse me, but you are the only brother left?” asked Prudence. Pain crossed his face.
“Everard fell at Salamanca; Percy was with Cochrane’s fleet in the War of 1812 and died gallantly saving a fellow officer. I sailed through the entire war in an unfashionable regiment with barely a scratch. I was ever contrary; and I ride too heavy, with my inches, to be a cavalryman so I joined the Rifles.”
“And of course to a Corinthian the dark green uniform would be more stylish than red,” said Prudence with a limpid look. He laughed.
“You minx! Indeed, by the time we had crawled over half of Spain our bottle green uniforms were ragged, muddy and really more disreputable than the clothes of the local peasants…. But we made our name. Miss Blenkinsop, I consider it the height of ill manners to bore a lady with war reminiscences!”
She smiled at him.
“But had we not already established that you were a rag-mannered ogre, sir?” she said.
He gave a shout of laughter.
“Miss Blenkinsop, that is assuredly YOUR point! I am glad I came early!”
“That was early? I had thought you were unavoidably detained.”
“Ah, Miss Blenkinsop, you truly are a green girl; the rules of fashion decree that the ennui of life keeps one
from arriving until as late as possible. One must be at Almack’s before they lock the door at eleven o’clock but at many functions a fashionable man may not arrive until later, may stay for the barest minimum of time and then go on to his club to complain about the boredom of life. I generally retire to my bed rather than to my club because I rise earlier than many to attend …..well, a sporting establishment.”
“You box with Gentleman Jackson no doubt,” nodded Miss Blenkinsop wisely, “I have heard about it from Jeremy – the vicar’s son in Whingate, where I live – because he was full of himself for having obtained a lesson when he visited town.”
“And is this Jeremy then someone special to you?” asked Alverston.
“He’s a clunch,” said Prudence, “but as a childhood friend one is naturally expected to listen to his tales of the number of ways he made a cake of himself in the city and pretend to think him a fine fellow. It were unkind to mock the afflicted.”
The Marquess gave a second shout of laughter.
Miss Blenkinsop would not, after all, be likely to have her head turned by other young clunches if she was already conversant with the type.
He danced with her once more – after a decent interval, having relinquished her to another for the next country dance – and then left. He had also danced with a number of other girls, most of whom bored him by simpering at him or turning tongue-tied at the attentions of so important a man.
“Well he is very properly behaved not to draw too much notice to you by his attentions,” declared George. “It does not do for a girl to be too obviously singled out by any one man. I like Alverston.”
Chapter 15
Lady Katherine sent invitations to an informal levee for the Knightleys and Prudence to meet her niece.
Emma wrote a letter of acceptance on behalf of all of them and expressed the opinion to her husband and cousin that whilst mornings were not her best time of day, by ten of the clock she should be feeling enough the thing to enjoy it and at least there would not be the ordeal of saying the right thing to a fearsome sounding dowager late at night.
“Alverston said she’s kind as well as formidable,” ventured Prudence, “I fancy though from what he said of Miss Fairlees that she is a trifle, well, lacking in pluck.”
“I should imagine that Alverston could seem intimidating to a slight and nervous female,” said George, “he terrified half the girls he danced with last night; not just the size of the man, but he has an offputting scowl that would make me dislike him if I did not know how much he cares for Arthur and how kind he can be. He went out of his way last night to thank me for my kindness and friendship to his nephew in the throes of his calf love; he is hoping of course that Arthur will transfer his infatuation to the next beauty of the season, for Alverston finds it an embarrassment that his nephew might embarrass Emma.”
“Poor Mr Alver,” said Emma, “I treat him just as I treat small Henry; with the gravity needed to prevent any wound to youthful pride.”
“Never, however, say so to the poor youth,” said George, “for he will be quite cast down to think that you compare him to a boy not yet eight years old and more than a decade Arthur’s junior.”
Lady Katherine was indeed a formidable grande dame who clung to the rustling brocades of her youth in a floral lattice pattern of black, grey and white, though made up in
more modish styles than the panniers in which she would herself have come out. Her iron grey hair was ruthlessly
coiffured under a black velvet turban that Prudence strongly suspected was designed to intimidate and which sported a black ostrich feather standing to attention as it rose from a ruby pin holding it in place. Somehow it was impossible to imagine any feather Lady Katherine had daring to droop. She utilised a quizzing glass with more ruthless efficiency than the effete and bored curiosity that was the wont of the Bond Street beaux Prudence had seen and glared at each of her visitors through it.
Miss Katherine Fairlees was by contrast a vapid looking girl with pale blonde locks fashionably dressed after the Greek fashion, rather vacant blue eyes and a pretty complexion with flawless features that might have served for a fashion plate, and with as much vivacity as a drawn page. She wore her fashionable blue muslin gown with elegance but without anything distinguishing about her. She smiled a timid smile that half apologised for her aunt’s intimidating manner.
Prudence, presented first, decided to refuse to be intimidated and smiled in greeting first at Kitty and then at Lady Katherine.
“Lord Alverston has been kind enough to tell me about you, Lady Katherine,” she murmured as they touched fingers in greeting
“Hmmph, well, he is a truthful fellow if prone to levity and exaggeration at times,” said Lady Katherine, “So I doubt he will have misrepresented me too much. I hear he doesn’t intimidate you at all?”
“No ma’am, why should he?” said Prudence “If he has told you of our first meeting I was too incensed to be intimidated by anyone; and since that time he has been the soul of courtesy and amiability.”
Lady Katherine’s eyebrows shot up.
“Truly? That does not sound like Gervase” she said disbelievingly.
Prudence chuckled.
“Well he is rag mannered in the extreme and offhand in his manner but there is nothing that any woman who sees
past that can complain about in his inherent courtesy and chivalry,” she said.
Lady Katherine regarded her with approval.
“I like you, girl,” she said, “you’re not in the least bit missish and you have a direct way that does not stray into impudence; and a sharper eye for the true character of a man than most. You may sit besi
de me and entertain me with your side of the tale of your meeting with Gervase. It will not of course be any different in detail, for he is truthful even to admitting his faults; but I shall be amused to hear it from your perspective. Kitty shall talk to Mr and Mrs Knightley.”
Prudence proceeded, once Emma and George had greeted the dowager, to tell the story, not omitting her solecism over the definition of a dandy, and the old woman laughed.
“No, Gervase would not care to be taken for a macaroni!” she said “As WE used to call a fribble in my young day! Well he needs the odd set down; there have been times lately when I have thought him too top-lofty and sneering, though that’s partly through having inherited care of a youth like Arthur when he lost his brothers and then his father in the space of just three years. And a man of eight-and-twenty years might be expected to be ready to have responsibility for his own nursery, but to suddenly have care of a youth of some fifteen summers cannot be easy; and it has made him stern of manner.”
“He seems to have most excellent care of Mr Alver,” said Prudence, “who is a most pleasant youth but sadly unsteady as yet.”
“Oh Arthur has some growing up to do but he has no real vice to him,” said Lady Katherine, “ah, here is Georgiana – Alverston’s sister – and her eldest. “Georgiana, my love, Diana; permit me to introduce you.”
Prudence, Emma and George found themselves introduced to Georgiana, Lady Greyling and the
Honourable Miss Diana Wrexham, daughter of Earl Greyling and Georgiana, Lady Greyling. Prudence found
it confusing that titles were not necessarily the same as family names!
Georgiana was a vivacious woman of some thirty years who was fashionably dressed and evidently considered herself a woman about town whilst enjoying her various interesting offspring; she gravitated to Emma to ask if Mrs Knightley had any children yet, and as Emma blushed and replied,
“Not quite yet’ proceeded to give her some good – and it may be said fairly earthy – advice about surviving the Season whilst in an Interesting Condition. Emma was delighted and it did not need much in the way of discreet enquiry to get Georgiana onto her favourite subject, which was her children. They were soon comparing notes about the five Wrexham offspring and Emma’s nephews and nieces as though they had known each other for ever.
The Honourable Diana was a thin child of about eleven or twelve with big grey eyes and a wealth of black hair that seemed to have no curl to it at all and was strained back into a plait.
Prudence smiled at her.
“Do you like London, Miss Wrexham?” she asked.
The child looked pleased to have the formal address.
“Well, if you please, Miss Blenkinsop, I have to say ‘no not really’ because there is very little to do here,” she said, “my next brother, William, is at school – he has just gone off for the summer term – so there are only the little ones and Nurse because my governess took the measles. That’s why Mama had to bring me; she said Aunt Katherine would not mind.”
“Measles! That must be very unpleasant for the poor woman; and how inconvenient for you!” said Prudence “And you are not permitted, I dare say, to walk out with a footman to a lending library?”
Diana pulled a face.
“No; but if Uncle Gervase is to come today I shall ask
him if I might be taken to his house to read in his library for he has a famous collection. I think he should marry a
blue stocking; I am glad he is not to marry cousin Kitty, though she is nice enough but she is not very well read and besides the idea of girls climbing trees makes her run to sneak to someone. I don’t think you would sneak, Miss Blenkinsop.”
“Well as it’s not so many years ago I was climbing trees myself I should be a pretty poor hypocrite to do so,” said Prudence. “We should however draw your cousin into the conversation; it would be courteous. My Cousin George is an excellent conversationalist but I am neglecting my hostess in not making conversation with her too!”
Diana giggled.
“She’s nervous of me because last time we met I had a mouse in my pocket. It was in the trap in the pantry and I had intended to release it, but had not had time, only it released itself and Kitty had the vapours. Mama slapped her,” she added, “because she was like to become hysterical. All over a little mouse” she added in some scorn.
“Poor little thing; I trust it was quite safe?” asked Prudence.
Diana regarded her with approval.
“Yes, I recaptured it and put it outside,” she said, “but you are right,” and she leaned forward “Cousin Kitty, is Uncle Gervase to be expected?”
“He should have been here by now, Diana,” said Kitty, “oh dear! I wonder what can be keeping him? Do you think he has been hurt in that horrid place he visits to go boxing?”
“Don’t fret, Kitty,” said Lady Katherine, looking in approval on Prudence for her handling of Diana, “Gervase is only tardy when it suits him or when he has a good
reason for it; indeed I hear his tread upon the stair. Kitty, you may ring for breakfast to be served.”
Gervase Marquess Alverston came in with the Honourable Arthur Alver. Mr Alver looked a trifle tousled.
Lady Katherine raised an eyebrow.
“Arthur? What has been going on?”
“Now no need to fret, Aunt Mouser,” Alverston spoke quickly, “Arthur was engaged in the rescue of a damsel in distress who had strayed – as green girls are wont to do” here he cast a wicked glance at Prudence “ – into haunts where delicately brought up females ought not to stray. He got himself into a bit of a mill over it.”
“And Uncle Gervase rescued me as well as Miss Bullivant,” said Arthur, half gratitude, half resentment in his tone, “and we saw her back to her lodgings. She is such a sweet girl, and so innocent!”
“The girl is the eldest of a hopeful family and is the daughter of the manse somewhere in Buckinghamshire,” said Alverston, “and quite unsuited to be let out on her own; Arthur was quite correct in defending her, for the girl did not even think to strike the rude fellow who was trying to force an acquaintance,” again his eye met Prudence’s with a laughing twinkle. “It is of course quite commendable that vicars should be of otherworldly demeanour but I fear poor preparation for their offspring that their daughters be quite green and their sons er clunches.”
Prudence smiled brightly.
“But perhaps it is a sign of inherent goodness that such a young lady not realise even the existence of such bogey men or even ogres?” she said.
“Touché,” said the Marquess appreciatively.
Diana was frowning.
“Uncle Gervase, you are teasing Miss Blenkinsop and in a manner I cannot follow,” she said severely.
“That, my poppet, is because you were not supposedto follow it,” said Alverston, “it was a private joke.”
Diana digested this.
“Uncle Gervase, Mama said I might ask you if I may come and use your library because Hendy has measles,” she returned to the major topic in her mind.
“Poor Miss Henderson!” said Alverston “Well if mama says you may, then certainly I shall give orders that you are to be admitted at any hour of day or night but that if it is after your bedtime, Mrs Robertson shall spank you and take you home again.”
Diana pulled a face at him.
“NOW you are teasing ME!” she said.
“Yes. Satisfied?” said Alverston.
“Well I am grateful to use your library. I don’t think you ought to tease Miss Blenkinsop, Uncle Gervase, I like her and she isn’t afraid of mice and she used to climb trees and her first idea of entertainment was to find a lending library.”
“Well in that case I must make Miss Blenkinsop – and of course Mr and Mrs Knightley – free of my library too,” said Alverston, “and that is a genuine offer; not a tease. The lending libraries have an eclectic selection but not necessarily edifying reads. Some of the novels that they hold are distinctly poor in both tone and style, yo
ur mama, Diana, is correct I think not to permit you unlimited rein in such. Few write as well as Sir Walter Scott or Miss Austen, nor with such distinction of tone.”
“Once again my family is indebted to you, My Lord,” said George, “for we are all avid readers, and though we had only had time to make a few visits to the lending library we have been sadly disappointed in the lack of choice.”
Breakfast with Lady Katherine was a more robust meal than was fashionable since Lady Katherine came from a more robust age and did not believe in ‘merely maudling her inside with tea and thin toast’. Thin toast and conserve there was a-plenty but also cold meats and bread hot from the oven and eggs cooked in a variety of ways.
Gervase Lord Alverston certainly did the meal justice, so Prudence felt in no wise constrained to pretend to do otherwise.
Chapter 16
The first Almack’s meeting of the season was on the twenty fourth of April; the sky was dark as the Knightley ménage hurried to that most prestigious of clubs, for the waning moon had set long since, its narrow sliver having descended ere the sun as though scurrying to bed ashamed of its shrunken appearance. The many lights of London’s night life quite drowned the darkness in ripples of brightness and pools of shadow that robbed the stars of their brilliance.
“Dear me, how very confusing all this is to be sure,” said Emma, “and how I miss the stars that shine so crisply at Hartfield!”
“The stars shine as brightly over Hartfield still,” said George, “unless it is overcast there, which blankets any stars no matter how much the eyes may be dazzled with all this light from lanthorns and the gas lighting; dear me, how dark it was and how dangerous the streets before gas lighting was laid on less than ten years ago, and over the last few years, substantial area of the city have become illuminated!”
“It is made by some form of distillation of coal, I know that,” said Prudence, “my father was much impressed by the lighting of a mill by this method in Manchester and introduced it to his mill; and as I was about ten I was interested enough in such things, and cheeky enough to ask the engineers who set it up, how it worked. Papa is interested in having everything as modern and efficient as may be, for the safety and health of his work force as well as to make the better profit in the long run.”
Cousin Prudence Page 8
