Prudence and the Romantic Poet (The Three Graces #3)

Chapter 11

11

Next morning was Mr Sealy’s bi-weekly visit to the hot baths. He had not wanted to go that morning, claiming that his lungs were plaguing him, and indeed he had been coughing horribly all through the night and looked a little grey. But Prudence reminded him that the steam would help his lungs. She was sure that even a small exposure to the mild autumnal air would benefit him, as would leaving his room and venturing out for an hour.

She left him grumbling and wheezing, assisted into the baths by the patient Pickering, and said she would return in an hour. She hurried to the lower assembly rooms where she was engaged to meet Miss Kimpshott.

The first friendly greeting she met with was from an elderly lady with twinkling eyes sitting in a bath chair.

‘Lady Heath!’ she exclaimed. ‘How delightful to see you again.’

‘Shall I see you at the next salon?’ queried the dowager, gesturing to the chair beside her and ordering the companion who attended her to let Miss Grace sit there instead. ‘I told Shelbourne to bring you.’

‘I doubt I shall be in Bath much longer,’ said Prudence, and told her of her uncle. ‘And I certainly have not had time to write bad poetry.’

‘Nor inclination, I’ll warrant,’ said the dowager. ‘Fetch Miss Grace a cup, Maria,’ ordered the dowager.

‘I hear the remit is an ode to an inanimate object,’ said Prudence. ‘Shall you compose one?’

‘I have threatened Sally with an ode to a muffin.’ The dowager’s eyes grew yet brighter as she said, ‘Ah, look who is here!’

Prudence was now engaged in thanking the dowager’s companion for supplying her with tea things, so she did not see the acquaintance Lady Heath was greeting. But when she heard a deep voice saying, ‘My Lady Heath, how do you do?’ she stiffened at the familiar tone.

‘I have not seen you this age!’ said the dowager. ‘Come and kiss me. You are as dashing as ever. You look exactly like your grandfather, God rest him. How handsome he was.’ Here she said confidingly to Prudence, ‘His maternal grandfather, that is. His paternal one was as blackhearted a man as ever walked the earth.’ She turned back to the gentleman, saying, ‘Your grandfather walked into a room and made every other man look like a puppy or a codger, as do you. Sit down. I must introduce my new little friend to you, you shall like her excessively, for I do. Maria, fetch Sir Robert a cup.’

There was nothing for it. The gentleman acquiesced to all the dowager’s requests. He kissed her hand and took a chair, saying that there was no one in all Bath he would sooner drink tea with than her ladyship.

‘Miss Grace, may I present Sir Robert Shelbourne. His grandfather was the only man I ever lost my heart to.’

Prudence managed to murmur that she was pleased to make his acquaintance. He stood to make a modest bow. His manners were not always so bad, thought Prudence with a twinge of amusement. Or at least, not if he were greeting a young lady in society rather than a housemaid.

She was a little shy of meeting his eyes, unsure of either his reaction or her own, but she garnered courage to look at him and was rewarded by seeing his face alter comically from politeness to confusion, and then amazement. She could tell that he was not quite certain if he were looking at the same person he had burst in on yesterday afternoon, or if she were strange lookalike. She thought it would serve him for his prior rudeness to let him simmer in uncertainty, so she said nothing, though the slight flush to her cheeks and the repressed humour in her eyes betrayed her a little.

He continued throwing confused glances at her whilst trying to attend to the dowager who was regaling him with reminiscences of her youth in the time of his grandfather. It was only when the server brought the tea to the table and he saw Prudence voluntarily pouring it out that his face cleared of confusion and revelation dawned. She saw on handing him his cup that this was so, and she met his look with a slight challenge, wondering if he would speak of yesterday. He did not, but he took the cup from her, saying to Lady Heath while looking at Prudence, ‘How do you find the tea, ma’am? I encountered a very interesting blend yesterday. It was so out of the common way that I hardly know what to make of it.’

‘Do not talk to me of your teas, Sir Robert,’ said Lady Heath. ‘Once you get upon that subject there is no end to it. When are you going to settle down and live like a regular gentleman and raise your family, instead of sailing about looking for tea?’

Prudence was intrigued by this, and would have enquired as to Lady Heath’s meaning, but a new arrival to their tea table now appeared .

‘Ah, here is Shelbourne,’ said Lady Heath. ‘Come and sit with us, my dear boy.’

It was indeed Mr Shelbourne, casting a wary look at his cousin as he greeted Lady Heath, and made a mumbled greeting to ‘Cousin Robert.’

‘Arthur,’ replied Sir Robert with a nod.

Prudence concluded from this cool greeting that Mr Shelbourne had met with his cousin yesterday, for there was no surprise in the meeting. Mr Shelbourne’s greeting of Prudence was distinctly warmer. ‘Good morning, Miss Grace. My apologies for… er… running away so hastily yesterday. And for taking your dog. I did not mean to.’

‘Did not mean to run away?’ said Sir Robert.

‘Did not mean to take Miss Grace’s dog.’ Mr Shelbourne threw his cousin a reproachful look. ‘There’s no need to roast me anymore, sir.’

‘Why should Sir Robert roast you, my dear boy?’ Lady Heath wished to know. Sir Robert looked pointedly at his young ward to indicate that it was for him to answer.

‘Cousin Robert is always roasting me about something, ma’am,’ was the sulky reply. Mr Shelbourne turned to Prudence, saying a little anxiously. ‘Have I missed Miss Kimpshott this morning?’

‘No. She has not come in yet. We were to meet at half past ten, but she must have been delayed.’

Precisely as Prudence and Mr Shelbourne looked over at the grandfather clock it struck the hour of eleven.

‘I must go,’ said Lady Heath. ‘The carriage was to come for me at eleven. Sally will be in one of her pets if I am not ready. Good-bye, dear friends,’ she said. Prudence rose to obey the invitation to kiss the old lady’s cheek.

‘No, I do not need assistance,’ said Lady Heath in response to Prudence’s enquiry. ‘Maria can manage my chair very well. Come and see me before you leave Bath. You are quite the nicest young lady I have met in a long while. Is it not strange how one can meet some people and feel they have known them an age after only an hour’s conversation? Good-bye, Shelbourne. You are looking thin and peaky. You must take better care of yourself. Ladies might like a poet, but they want a handsome, manly poet, not a sickly looking one. Good-bye, Sir Robert. Kiss me again for your grandfather’s sake. Do settle down and produce some fine young boys to carry on the Shelbourne good looks, for poor Arthur has his mother’s fair features and none of his father’s. Marry Miss Grace, there, why don’t you? She is as sweet and sensible a girl as I ever met, and pretty too. There, I have matchmaked you. Remember that on your wedding day and call your first daughter after me.’

It was a strange and slightly outrageous leave-taking that left all her ‘dear friends’ either blushing or bemused. Prudence could not meet Sir Robert’s somewhat satirical eye after such an admonition. As she watched Lady Heath being wheeled away towards the door, the pretty figure of Miss Kimpshott came tripping through it.

‘There she is!’ said Mr Shelbourne, jumping up and hurrying to offer his arm to her.

‘So that is the fair Regina,’ said Sir Robert, watching the meeting of the young couple. ‘Complete with hair flowing silver as Mercury’s moon .’

Prudence could not help a laugh. ‘Does Mercury even have a moon?’

‘It does not. Of all the planets there are but two with no moons, and my hapless cousin picks such a one. I suppose one of us should break it to him?’

‘Not I,’ laughed Prudence. ‘I have not the heart.’ Despite her laughter she was uncomfortable sitting alone with this rather imposing man. She wished Mr Shelbourne and Miss Kimpshott would join them, but Mr Shelbourne must have persuaded Miss Kimpshott to take a turn with him for they were now walking slowly along the wall of tall windows.

‘So, Miss Grace,’ said Sir Robert. ‘Do you have an identical twin, or do you like to dress up as a housekeeper to befuddle your guests?’

‘That is very unjust, sir. For you were not a guest. You were an…’ she did not like to say ‘intruder.’ That sounded rude.

‘Interloper?’ he suggested.

‘ Inquirer, ’ said Prudence diplomatically. ‘And I was not playing at housekeeper. I am temporarily, and unexpectedly, acting as housekeeper for my great-uncle. It is only until I can find him suitable staff.’

‘I see. My apologies for inflicting my inquiries upon you yesterday, and also for mistaking you for Miss Kimpshott.’

‘And for warning me away as an adventuress,’ she added.

‘Now it is you who are a little unjust. I did not accuse you of being an adventuress, but only wished to warn you of disappointed hopes.’

‘And shall you warn Miss Kimpshott, now you are about to meet her?’

‘From what I have since heard, Miss Kimpshott is a very eligible heiress.’

‘So there is no need to drive her away?’

‘Not in the least. But she looks as much of a child as Shelbourne.’ Sir Robert eyed the young couple as they approached. ‘They are too young to be thinking of marriage for at least another two years. And I hear that the young lady’s guardian has her sights set on a larger prize than poor Shelbourne. I fear he is the one to have disappointed hopes.’

Prudence could not counter this, for she thought the same. ‘She is very beautiful and very good natured,’ said Prudence. ‘It is no wonder that Mr Shelbourne thinks himself hopelessly in love. Did you ever see a lovelier girl?’

She looked at him to see if he agreed. He gave an odd smile, saying, ‘I suspect I should prefer a more earthbound lady, myself. No Mercury moonlight for me.’

‘Miss Grace! How sorry I am to keep you waiting,’ greeted Miss Kimpshott, breaking free of Mr Shelbourne’s arm to hurry forward and take her friend’s hand. ‘I had thought we had said eleven. Mr Shelbourne says you do not intend to come to tonight’s ball. It shall be my last one in Bath. Do come! There is to be a supper also, to raise money for a charitable fund.’

‘Why should you want me there?’ said Prudence, smiling. ‘We barely speak a word beyond the carriage drive, as you are never without a partner or an admirer taking up your attention.’

‘You will hold the supper dance for me, won’t you, Miss Kimpshott?’ urged Mr Shelbourne. ‘It shall be the last supper we share.’ He looked away vacantly after this utterance. Prudence knew the look very well by now. Mr Shelbourne had been struck by inspiration. ‘ The last supper ,’ he murmured as his hand moved to his waistcoat pocket to retrieve his notebook.

‘I shall not sit through supper with you, Mr Shelbourne,’ said Miss Kimpshott, ‘if you spend half the time scribbling away in that book of yours.’

Mr Shelbourne hastily withdrew his hand. ‘No, indeed, Miss Kimpshott.’ His face brightened. ‘So, you will save the supper dance for me? ’

‘I will,’ assented the young lady. ‘Because Lord Carlyle will only sit posing as Dionysus. He may be well to look at, but I would sooner have a partner who talks to me.’

‘I don’t know what there is to look at,’ said Mr Shelbourne. ‘A bigger coxcomb there never was.’

‘Mr Shelbourne,’ prompted Prudence discreetly. ‘Will you not introduce Miss Kimpshott to your cousin?’

Mr Shelbourne recalled his manners.

‘Shall you be at the ball tonight, Sir Robert?’ Miss Kimpshott enquired.

‘Sir Robert never dances,’ said Mr Shelbourne.

‘But it would be delightful for Miss Grace to have a partner for the supper dance. Then we might all sit together.’ Miss Kimpshott smiled prettily at him.

‘You forget, dear,’ said Prudence, a little vexed at having Sir Robert, or any man, coerced into partnering her, ‘I have not said I will go.’

‘Oh, but you must! For it may be the last evening we shall all be together. I never had such good friends as you and Mr Shelbourne before.’

Mr Shelbourne was pleased with this admission of platonic affection, even if it fell short of romance. Prudence felt she could hardly deny such a request.

‘I should be pleased to escort Miss Grace into supper, if she should decide to attend the ball,’ said Sir Robert.

Mr Shelbourne looked surprised. ‘But you came with only your boots, sir.’

‘Then I shall fetch my shoes,’ said Sir Robert.

‘All the way to Beech Park and back in an afternoon?’

‘Can it not be done?’ was the dry reply.

‘Dashed obliging of you, sir,’ said Mr Shelbourne.

Prudence felt uncomfortably cornered. She could tell by Sir Robert’s look that he took no pleasure in the thought of dancing and dining with her, and added to this was the information that he would be put to a deal of trouble. But she would seem ungracious if she did not accept without a plausible excuse, and she was too honest to make up excuses. So she accepted. Having done so, she rose, saying, ‘I look forward to seeing you all tonight.’

‘Must you leave so soon?’ said Miss Kimpshott. ‘I thought we might look about in Milsom Street.’

‘My uncle will be coming out of the hot bath. I must arrange a chair for him and then I wish to try a new receipt for a cough remedy, for his cough is growing steadily worse.’

Miss Kimpshott wrinkled her nose at such a mundane and toilsome afternoon. ‘Oh, Miss Grace, what will become of you when I am not here to persuade you away from that odious uncle of yours?’

‘He is not odious,’ said Prudence, buttoning up her pelisse. ‘Or, not very. I shall only be in Bath a short while longer.’

‘I wish you could come with me to London,’ said Miss Kimpshott. ‘You are a far better chaperone than my cousin. We shall call for you tonight at a quarter past seven.’

Prudence bid Mr Shelbourne good bye for the present, but Sir Robert rose before she could take leave of him, saying, ‘I shall escort you to your uncle’s house, Miss Grace.’

‘Oh, I assure you I do not—’

Her protestation was not attended to. Sir Robert ensured a clear passage for her exit from the busy rooms. He offered his arm at the door, saying, ‘You should not be left to order chairs. Is there no servant supplied to you?’

She could not ignore his arm without appearing rude, and it was very difficult to argue with a man who had a disconcerting way of taking charge. Clearly he was a man unused to having his will countered .

‘I have an excellent family manservant and a lady’s maid at my service,’ she assured him. ‘But in such a place as Bath I feel quite able to walk independently. And I am perfectly able to hire a chair.’

They began walking. ‘Have you no other family than your uncle?’ he asked.

‘Indeed. I have two married sisters.’

‘And they have left you here alone?’

She laughed, but she was as much irritated as amused by his misjudgement.

‘You make my circumstances sound quite Gothic. I am not a child. I am well able to keep house for my relation for a few weeks.’

‘Are you not?’ he queried, looking down at her. ‘You do not talk as a child, but you look no older than my stripling of a cousin. I was astounded to hear Miss Kimpshott expressing a wish for you as her chaperone.’

‘I assure you I am of age, sir. I am two and twenty.’

He looked again at her with his inscrutable gaze, as if searching for proof of her words. She turned her face away to hide the slight flush she felt rising. He was rather an uncomfortable man, she decided. And yet, as he now left her in the shelter of the portico of the hot baths, telling her to wait while he darted across the road to hire a chair, she had to admit that it was rather nice to have a gentleman to steer a clear passage through traffic and crowds and dirty puddles, and to save her the trouble of haggling with chairmen, who always seemed to alter their prices at whim.

Sir Robert’s gallantry did not end there. No protestation would keep him from seeing Miss Grace and her uncle to their door. And when Pip flew out at her, making his feelings on being left behind known, Sir Robert was quick to snatch up the animal before Mr Sealy’s stick struck him.

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Prudence, retrieving her dog from Sir Robert’s arms as soon as Amos and Pickering had borne Mr Sealy inside. ‘There is no affection between my uncle and poor Pip,’ she said, feeling unaccountably flustered at Sir Robert’s arms almost entangling with her own as the dog was transferred between them. ‘Thank you for all your trouble, sir,’ she said, backing away quickly into the house.

‘I am sure you could never be a source of trouble,’ he replied, but without a corresponding smile of gallantry. He bowed. ‘Until this evening, Miss Grace.’