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

Chapter 26

26

Sir Robert quickly recovered from his surprise, made a bow, said ‘How do you do, Miss Grace?’ and straightened up with his expression closed.

She experienced something of a shock at seeing him, then a brief moment of delight coursed through her, immediately followed, on seeing his shuttered expression, by a stab of pain. Somehow she managed to compose herself and mechanically make a curtsey.

Sir Robert inclined his head to acknowledge her companion. ‘Cavendish,’ he said, and Mr Cavendish, equally unsmiling, bowed his head in reply, saying, ‘Your servant, Shelbourne.’

‘You are acquainted?’ said Prudence, rather unnecessarily, striving to keep her voice even and calm.

‘Still in trade ?’ said Mr Cavendish with a hint of a sneer.

‘Keeping busy,’ said Sir Robert, his eyes turning back to Prudence as though he could not resist looking at her. She was appalled to find that tears were pricking her eyes and blinked them away, turning as though to examine an orchid .

Perhaps Sir Robert had seen those traitorous tears, for he took a step nearer to her and his voice was softened as he said, ‘A species of Vanilla orchid. From Sri Lanka.’

She recalled him telling her that he brought back other things than tea from his trading visits. ‘Did you bring it?’ she asked.

‘Yes. One of my ships docked last week in Bristol. Lady Clementina is an ardent collector. She always commissions me to bring her something unique.’

She had released Mr Cavendish’s arm on meeting Sir Robert, and she put out a hand to touch the exotic white petals. At the same moment Sir Robert reached to touch the plant, and his hand brushed against the bare skin of her arm above her glove. She quickly drew her hand back, glancing at Sir Robert to see if he was affected and was gratified to see a flash of strong feeling pass over him. So he was not indifferent to her. But why this coolness? Why this politeness of a mere acquaintance instead of a dear friend? If only Mr Cavendish were not there, speaking something to her that she was not attending to, if only she were alone with Sir Robert, she would ask him directly why he was so withdrawn.

‘Miss Grace?’ said Mr Cavendish, recalling her attention to him. ‘Shall we?’ He gestured an invitation to continue their walk through the conservatory.

‘Does your cousin know you here?’ she asked, ignoring Mr Cavendish.

‘No. I only arrived two hours ago. I left a note at his hotel, but I daresay he has not seen it yet.’

‘He is here.’

‘Is he?’ Sir Robert, now that he was near to her, now that he had spoken to and touched her, seemed reluctant to leave her and was examining her face, her hair, her features. He began to look a little dazzled, and she took courage.

‘I brought him as a guest,’ she continued. ‘And Miss Kimpshott also.’

He was silent, but still regarding her, and she could see a warmth stirring in his eyes.

‘Why did you come to town?’ she asked, wishing, perhaps foolishly, that he would drop his stern mask altogether, gather her into his arms and say, I came to find you, my dear girl. He held her gaze for a moment and her breath grew shallow as she waited for the reply, but he said vaguely, ‘Business brings me.’

‘At Christmas?’ she challenged.

A corner of his mouth lifted. Such a wistful half smile, her eyes moved to watch the familiar curving of his lips. She blushed a little, and glanced away and then back to meet his gaze, willing him to speak truthfully to her.

‘I confess I also wanted to see… if Arthur had found his feet. The foolish boy has never navigated London before.’

‘Nothing else brings you?’ she said, in one last attempt.

He looked her over again. ‘How well you look,’ he said softly.

‘Miss Grace,’ said Mr Cavendish, putting out his arm. ‘Shall we continue?’ He gave Sir Robert a curt nod, saying, ‘Good evening.’

There was nothing Prudence could do other than take Mr Cavendish’s arm. It would be the height of rudeness not to, and would cause a little scene. Before she walked on, she said quickly, ‘I shall no doubt speak with you later, Sir Robert.’

Mr Cavendish’s hand closed over hers on his arm, and Sir Robert’s expression darkened, and he said a little curtly, ‘I shall not stay. It is a little crowded for my liking. ’

‘You will call on us?’ she said, striving to keep the note of desperation from her voice. ‘I am in Curzon Street. At my sister’s house. Mr Shelbourne can direct you. He is a regular caller.’

He did not reply, but bowed as she was steered away.

The evening was wholly ruined for Prudence. For an hour or so she was in hope that Sir Robert might change his mind and seek her out. But when Mr Shelbourne next saw her, his face glowing because he had secured Miss Kimpshott for the next dance, even if it was a mere country dance, he relayed the news that he had seen his cousin, but he had left soon after.

‘Is he staying long in town?’ she pressed.

Mr Shelbourne shrugged. ‘I did not ask.’

‘Will you see him tomorrow?’

‘I dare say.’ He was distracted in looking about the ballroom.

‘Miss Kimpshott is over there, by the middle window,’ said Prudence, guessing whom he was looking for.

His face lit up. ‘Is she not an angel?’ Then he sighed. ‘How the men do flock about her.’ He murmured some poetic lines to himself, then moved to go and claim her, but Prudence put a hand on his arm to stay him a moment.

‘If you see Sir Robert tomorrow, do bring him to call at Curzon Street.’

Prudence could see Miss Kimpshott detaching herself from her admirers and making her way towards them.

‘Of course,’ said Mr Shelbourne. ’But I’ve no need to bring him, for he would not fail to call upon you.’

Miss Kimpshott joined them. ‘Did you see Sir Robert?’ she queried.

Prudence said that she had seen him very briefly. ‘I was reminding Mr Shelbourne to bring his cousin to Curzon Street before he leaves town.’

‘And I said that he would be sure to call,’ said Mr Shelbourne. ’They being such old friends.’

‘He did not seem friendly tonight,’ said Prudence. ‘Is he displeased about something?’

Miss Kimpshott regarded her thoughtfully. She turned to Mr Shelbourne to hear his reply. He shrugged. ‘My cousin’s always up in the boughs about something. It’s his way.’

Lady Clementina approached with another man to introduce to Prudence while her friends went to take their places in the dance. Prudence wondered how she would endure the remainder of the evening, and how many men she would be forced to keep at arm’s length, for she had already rebuffed one veiled offer of marriage and rejected two offers to drive out next day, and postponed accepting an invitation to meet another man’s mother, saying that she was not at liberty to accept invitations without consulting her sister’s convenience.

It was almost two in the morning when the Hart carriage arrived back in Curzon Street and she could fall into bed. Despite her inner turmoil she was too exhausted to lie tossing and turning, but fell quickly asleep, certain that she would soon find an opportunity to speak to Sir Robert that she might unravel the truth of his feelings towards her.

Sir Robert did not call next morning. Seven other gentlemen did, however. The street outside was congested with carriages, and the Yellow Saloon was filled with men eager to pay their respects to Miss Grace. She was glad that none of the callers went beyond the bounds of good manners in staying beyond the customary fifteen minutes, but one of the men, a Mr Bold, lived up to his name by being so daring as to return to the house as soon as the other suitors had left to catch Prudence by surprise and fall at her feet and beg her to marry him. She had to ring for the butler and have the persistent lover escorted from the house by the footmen.

Charity laughed to hear of this, until she caught sight of her sister’s face and said, ‘Oh, you poor dear, I am sorry that the rascal should have caught you alone like that, but you must not take it to heart. You are a highly desirable female now.’

When Prudence met Miss Kimpshott later that day for their arranged walk in the park she related the incident to her. Miss Kimpshott confessed to having had numerous such experiences, echoing Charity by saying, ‘That is what comes of being a young lady of beauty and fortune. I have had four such proposals since I arrived in town.’

‘How can you endure it?’ said Prudence. ‘I think it is dreadful.’

Miss Kimpshott smiled sympathetically. ‘It is only temporal. Once we are married it will all go away.’

‘But I do not wish to marry anyone at present,’ said Prudence.

Miss Kimpshott looked at her and said, ‘Has Sir Robert called this morning?’

‘No,’ was the flat reply.

‘I dare say he will,’ said Miss Kimpshott kindly.

Prudence changed the subject. ‘Have none of your proposals been suitable?’

‘One or two have been acceptable.’

‘Are you considering them?’

‘I suppose I should,’ she said, frowning a little as though she was puzzled as to why she did not .

‘Do not accept anyone that you do not truly like,’ counselled Prudence. ‘Marriage changes everything. I do not think I shall marry at all.’

‘If only it were simple,’ agreed Miss Kimpshott, linking her arm through hers. ‘If only you could ask God to send you the man you were to marry, and the exact man would walk right up to you, and you did not have to debate anxiously over whether or not you were making the right choice.’

Prudence was too heavy-hearted to say anything more on the subject. They turned the corner and spied two gentlemen striding towards them.

‘It is Mr Shelbourne,’ said Miss Kimpshott. ‘And his cousin.’

‘How do you do?’ cried Mr Shelbourne, waving in delight. ‘We were coming to call on you, Miss Grace.’

Prudence felt a rush of pleasure to hear this, her heaviness lifting in a moment. She looked enquiringly at Sir Robert as they shook hands. ‘I am glad I did not miss you altogether,’ she said candidly.

‘We shall walk back with you,’ announced Mr Shelbourne. Miss Kimpshott to Prudence’s surprise and Mr Shelbourne’s delight said quickly, ‘That would be splendid, for I feel in need of an arm to lean on,’ and took his arm and almost marched him away.

‘May I?’ said Sir Robert offering his own arm to Prudence. She took it, feeling the old sensation of butterflies in her stomach. They walked in silence for a few minutes. Prudence had so much she wished to ask him, and yet now that she had the chance, she felt strangely shy and uncertain how to begin. She chided herself inwardly and took courage and opened the conversation by saying, ‘This is like old times, Sir Robert. ’

He glanced down at her and she met his look, willing him to speak honestly with her.

‘I have missed it,’ she said bravely, her voice only slightly faltering. ‘Missed our walks, that is.’

She was rewarded for her courage by seeing something of the old warmth returning to his expression. He pressed her arm with his hand, saying, ‘As have I.’

‘May we be friends again, then?’ she said, trying to inject some lightness into her voice.

He hesitated. ‘Friends. Yes. Indeed. I hope we shall always be friends.’

‘You did not seem very friendly the last two times we met,’ she ventured. ‘Are we good enough friends for me to enquire as to why?’

She thought he wasn’t going to answer. She felt him withdraw from her as he looked away. She examined that stern profile that she had learned to love so well. How awful it was to be so physically near to one whom you cared for and yet feel them so far away. Her pain spilled over, betraying itself as she said imploringly, ‘ Robert ?’

He halted instantly, turning to face her, still holding fast her arm. His own eyes now betrayed something fierce as he said in a half groan, ‘My dear girl. How I wish—’

He never said what he wished, for at that moment a voice hailed loudly, ‘Miss Grace!’ and she looked round to see one of last night’s suitors tooling a smart phaeton. He was the most dashing of the men Lady Clementina had introduced her to. Youth and vigour exuded from him as he bounded down from his perch that he might come and shake hands. ‘How do you do?’ he said, beaming at her, not content to shake the hand she politely held out but raising it to his lips. ‘I tried to call on you this morning, but there was such a queue of traffic outside your door that I had to drive on, so I was on my way again now.’ He looked expectantly at Sir Robert and Prudence made the introductions. ‘Sir Robert may I introduce Mr Hamilton.’

‘Your servant,’ said Mr Hamilton cheerfully.

‘Sir,’ said Sir Robert coldly.

‘Have you walked far?’ said Mr Hamilton. ‘Might I take you up and drive you to Curzon Street?’

Prudence opened her mouth to politely reject this offer, but Sir Robert said brusquely, ‘By all means. Do take Miss Grace home, for I have business in town in the other direction.’

‘Splendid!’ enthused the young man, steering Prudence to the phaeton where his tiger waited at the bridle.

Prudence found herself seated before she had time to protest. Sir Robert barely glanced at her as he bowed and strode away.

‘There’s a saturnine expression if ever I saw one,’ commented Mr Hamilton as they drove away. ‘I am glad I chanced to pass by that I might rescue you from such a fellow!’