Penelope Goes to Portsmouth (8 page)

At last, she seized the barrel by the rim and heaved, and with a loud scraping noise she was able to move it to one side.

And there, below it, was a trapdoor. It was not bolted or padlocked. Hannah opened it. A flight of wooden steps led downward. Again she retrieved the candle and down she went, turning at the bottom of the stairs and holding the candle high.

Benjamin lay in a corner of a small cell-like dungeon. His face was white and his eyes were closed. His wrists and ankles were bound. There was blood on his forehead and his livery was dusty and torn.

Hannah crouched down beside him and shook his shoulder gently. To her immeasurable relief, his eyes opened. The look of sheer gratitude and gladness in them brought a lump to Hannah’s throat.

‘Now, then, Benjamin,’ she whispered, ‘watch my lips. I have a small pair of nail-scissors in my pocket. If they will not sever your bonds, I shall have to risk returning to the kitchen for a knife.’

Hannah worked at the thick rope that bound him but the fragile nail-scissors snapped. ‘Wait here,’ she said.

Now in an agony of fear and impatience, Hannah climbed back up through the cellar and up to the kitchen. She found a sharp carving knife and made her way down again.

Quickly she sawed through his bonds. She helped him to his feet. His face was screwed up with pain and she could only guess that it was caused by the circulation returning to his feet and hands.

She hitched one of his arms about her shoulders and together they staggered to the staircase. Hannah blew out the candle and then pushed Benjamin in front of her and he began to climb the wooden stairs, slowly and stiffly.

When they both reached the cellar, Hannah took a deep breath. Taking the footman’s hand, she guided him through the blackness to the cellar stairs and then led him upwards.

Benjamin tripped over the body of the butler and fell headlong with a crash. Hannah helped him up and thrust him into a chair. She lit an oil lamp on the table.

‘Now, try to understand,’ said Hannah earnestly. Benjamin watched her lips closely. ‘The others will be in the grounds. I must go up to one of the windows and wave a candle as signal to them to bring the cart to the front door. I am going to lock you in here for safety.’ Benjamin nodded and then seized her hand and raised it to his lips.

‘No time for that,’ said Hannah, snatching her hand away. She unlocked the door of the servants’ hall and then locked it again behind her, praying that no one in the household would awake.

‘Well, you would come,’ said Lord Augustus crossly. Penelope shivered and rain dripped from her small nose. A thin drizzle had started to fall. They were hidden in the bushes. Mr Cato with the horse and cart had been left outside the gate. Lord Augustus had arranged with him that as soon as he saw that light at the window, he would hoot like an owl. But it turned out to be a busy night for owls, and several times the horse and cart had come charging up the drive. Penelope at last said she would run and fetch Mr Cato as soon as they saw that candle.

‘What can be keeping her?’ asked Penelope. ‘All the lights in the house seem to have been out for hours.’

‘The simple explanation, my sweet,’ said Lord
Augustus, stifling a yawn, ‘is that we were mistaken and Benjamin is not there. It was but a thin chance. And now I have given away my pin. It was quite my favourite. Do you not think it became me?’

‘I think it is very unmanly in you to worry about your appearance when poor Benjamin could be in some dark dungeon.’

‘It is not the custom for manor-houses, however ancient, to have dungeons. It is hardly a medieval stronghold. And if you twit me about my manliness, I shall kiss you.’

‘Faugh! How can you flirt at a time like this?’

They were both crouched down in the bushes. He could just make out the white glimmer of her face. He put a firm hand under her chin and bent his lips and kissed her full on the mouth.

Shocked, Penelope went very still. It was like music, thought Lord Augustus dreamily – fast, turbulent music with one sweet chord piercing through it all. Her lips were soft and warm and yielding. He could kiss her all night. He could kiss her for the rest of her life. She wore a light flowery perfume, seductive to his senses. At last he freed his lips and looked at her in a dazed way.

‘I suppose you kissed Lady Carsey like that,’ said Penelope in a choked little voice.

‘Damn you,’ he said fiercely. ‘I have never kissed anyone like that in my life before.’

‘And you have kissed many,’ said Penelope, her temper rising.

Candlelight flickered frantically back and forth at
one of the front windows, but the angry couple did not notice.

Hannah put down the candlestick and stared out. There was no sign of anyone. Surely the cart should be rumbling up the short drive. She thought she heard a faint sound upstairs in the house and seized the candle again and waved it frantically. In her fear and agitation, she did not notice that one of the inner lace curtains that she had pulled to one side had caught alight. She kept on waving the candle until there was a sudden sheet of flame as the curtain went up. Hannah dropped the lighted candle in a panic on the floor and ran down to the servants’ hall, fumbling with the keys in a paroxysm of terror until she found the right one.

Mr Cato from his post on the road saw the sheet of flame, swore, and called to his horse. He shouted, ‘My lord,’ at the top of his voice as the cart charged up the drive.

Lord Augustus and Penelope erupted from the bushes and stared in consternation at the flames at the window.

‘Faith!’ exclaimed Lord Augustus. ‘I think she has run mad and set the house alight.’

Upstairs in the Manor, Lady Carsey awoke and sat up. She had been dreaming about Lord Augustus. She cursed the trickster under her breath. And then, all at once, she remembered when she had first met him, how he had called with the pretty chit and that severe-looking female with the odd eyes.

Odd eyes.

Her own eyes widened. She had seen those eyes, and only recently.

The housekeeper.

With an oath, she seized the bell-rope beside the bed and began to ring it furiously.

Her lady’s maid came running in. ‘Fetch Biggs. Get all the men,’ snapped Lady Carsey. ‘The new housekeeper is a spy. Make sure she does not escape.’

The lady’s maid gave a terrified squawk and ran from the room, only to return a moment later, her eyes dilated. ‘The house is on fire, my lady. It’s burning bad.’

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

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 tenderly 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.’