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Authors: Otherwise Engaged

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BOOK: Sally James
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Thankfully she retreated to the other end of the room and mingled with the puzzled guests, scattered from their sets when the music had stopped, rather raggedly, and waiting for whatever was to happen.

'My dear friends,' Lady Mottesford began, waving her shepherdess's crook above her head as though, Prudence thought, stifling her desire to giggle, she was waving a flag. 'My very dear friends, I know you will be as pleased as I am to hear my news. My daughter Emma – where are you, Emi – Emma, my love? – is going to follow in my footsteps. No, I don't mean that, exactly, but she is going to be the second Lady Emma Mottesford. She is going to marry my dear, lamented husband's heir, Dicky. Come here, Dicky, hold Emma's hand now. Here, ladies and gentlemen, are the happy couple.'

Prudence felt nauseated. Would Lord Mottesford repudiate this engagement? As she had suspected him of being prepared to do if she had accepted him? He had been trapped, it was clear, but he could still explain it had been a misunderstanding. He did not seem about to speak, however, and there was little time for conjecture as a buzz of conversation rose from the guests.

'Ye Gods!' a man beside Prudence ejaculated. 'No one ever calls him Dicky! Ugh! The fellow must be foxed to even think of offering for such an antidote!'

'Hush, George,' his wife whispered urgently, but Prudence overheard similar remarks from others nearby, and it was the sole topic of conversation for the remainder of the evening, apart from disgusted comments that even to celebrate such an amazing success for her daughter Lady Mottesford had provided no more champagne.

'It's monstrous!' Sarah complained when she encountered Prudence an hour later. 'It's unbelievable a man like Mottesford should even think of marrying so vulgar a creature as Emma Potter. That woman is already preening herself unbearably, talking of the future Lady Emma, if you please. You'd think she would have learned by now that she won't be Lady Emma, only Lady Mottesford.'

'I wonder if she has realised it will make her the dowager?' Mrs Buxton asked with a chuckle. 'Oh, dear, it's dreadful! What could Richard have been thinking of?'

'It serves him right!' Prudence said coldly, but refused to elaborate on this statement, even to herself, until she was alone.

The remainder of the masquerade passed with infinite slowness for Prudence, who felt that the fixed smile on her face must either be clamped there for ever, or break her head in two.

It ended at last, however, but the news had spread to the Fromes' house before the Fromes themselves returned there, and Prudence had been forced to endure the exclamations and speculations of her maid as the girl prepared her for bed.

At last she was alone. Her chief feeling was of numbness. It was followed by a mixture of despair as she finally confessed to herself that despite all her doubts of him she had grown to love Lord Mottesford, and bitter triumph that, after his plot to ensnare her, he had himself been so neatly trapped by the even more unscrupulous Lady Mottesford. Suddenly she began to laugh, at first silently, then with gathering hysteria which she fought to control as she buried her face in the pillows. At last the shuddering which had convulsed her body subsided and she lay quietly, totally drained of all emotion.

Forcing herself to appear as normal the following day, she had to endure Netta's demanding curiosity, and relate what had happened to her young cousin. She omitted the scene in the conservatory, for to reveal it would lead to questions as to what she herself had been doing there, and that was impossible to answer.

However trying she thought Netta's interest, she found it even more irksome to withstand the glances of sympathy from her aunt, and maintain her pretence that she had never cared for Lord Mottesford.

It was therefore with some relief she welcomed Charlotte late that afternoon. It seemed that no one could talk of anything else, for all their morning callers had been full of the news. Indeed Prudence suspected many of them, having seen Lord Mottesford in her company rather frequently, came with the malicious intention of watching to see how she was reacting to the loss of one of her most constant suitors. At least from Charlotte she would hear whether her mama and Emma were as satisfied as they had appeared the previous evening.

Charlotte, however, was pale and looked distraught. Prudence was alone in the morning room, attempting to read and distract herself from her thoughts, when Tanner showed her in.

'Charlotte, whatever is the matter?' Prudence demanded when she saw her friend.

'It's — it's Mama!' Charlotte exclaimed, and promptly burst into tears.

It was some considerable time before she was calm enough to talk, and her explanation was punctuated with isolated sobs and hiccups.

'Mr Gregory called this morning,' she said after a while. 'Oh, Prudence, he offered for me!'

'Well, if you like him, and I think you do, that is no need for tears!' Prudence said bracingly, firmly suppressing thoughts of the offer she had herself received.

'Oh, I do, I do, and above all things I would like to marry him, but that is the point. Mama says I cannot!'

'Cannot? What does she mean? Surely if he has offered he must know you are not rich, and be willing to accept that?'

'Yes, he says he does not care about my lack of fortune,' Charlotte said with a gulp. 'I know it was wrong, but we could not help ourselves, truly we could not, and he spoke to me, told me last night, that he wished to offer for me, and would see Mama today.'

'Well? What happened?'

'He came, and there was the most dreadful row. It was Mama, she shouted and called him the vilest names, saying he had no right to speak to me first. I was in the back drawing room, and heard it all, for they did not know I was there. I had gone to get a book, you see, and he was shown in before I could leave, and to go would have made a noise since the door squeaks. Besides, when I heard what she said I could not have gone. Oh, Prudence, what shall I do?'

'Calmly, tell me what she said about not accepting this offer,' Prudence urged, her own troubles forgotten in the need to console Charlotte.

Charlotte took a deep breath, and went on more steadily.

'He said he wished to offer for me, and thought I would be willing. That was when she began to abuse him for not obtaining her permission to speak to me. He ignored that, and went on to say his fortune was not large, but his estates were unencumbered, and he could provide me with a comfortable home.'

'Well, what reason did she give for refusing him?' Prudence asked. 'Surely the mere fact he had already approached you could not weigh so heavily with her?'

'She said – Oh, Prudence, I can't bear it!' Charlotte gasped, and once more dissolved into a flood of tears.

'Tell me,' Prudence said gently, and gradually Charlotte resumed her story.

'She said I was already promised!'

'What? How can that be?' Prudence exclaimed.

'Hubert!' Charlotte wailed, and this time her bout of tears was so unrestrained that for a time Prudence thought she would have to send for help. Eventually, however, Charlotte became calm, and begged pardon for being such a watering pot.

'You would never agree to marry him!' Prudence declared fervently.

Charlotte sighed, her tears no longer flowing.

'I dislike him so much. Indeed he makes me shiver with revulsion every time he touches me. And he is always making excuses to touch my hands, or take my arm, helping me, with that horrid smile on his face!'

'Then you must refuse to marry him. They cannot force you to do so,' Prudence urged.

'She can, for I am not strong like you. She says if I am obstinate she will take me to Devon, to the dower house which Papa left her, and lock me away with only bread and water until I submit. Prudence, truly I would kill myself rather than marry Hubert!'

'That would not be of much use,' Prudence rallied her. 'Come, if she threatens this we must make plans. Would Edward elope with you?'

'Oh, I couldn't!' she exclaimed, shocked. 'And he would not dream of asking me to,' she added.

Prudence frowned. After his part in the wager she had little doubt Edward Gregory would be prepared to defy convention, but Charlotte could not. She was not the stuff of which heroines were made. Some other way would have to be found.

'Have you any other relatives? Anyone at all you could go to, who would either take your part or hide you?' she asked, but Charlotte shook her head dolefully.

'The only other relative I have is Lord Mottesford, and now he is to marry Emma he will not be prepared to defy Mama. Besides, he does not like me.'

'I did not know Emma wanted him,' Prudence said, momentarily diverted from Charlotte's problems.

'Oh, yes, she always has. Mama was angry he inherited the title, and Trelawn Manor. She does not understand about entails. Mama once said it would be fitting if he married one of us, but although I had a better right to Papa's money than Emma, it was unwise for cousins to marry. Then she said that if she considered me her daughter there was no reason why Papa should not have considered Emma to be his, therefore he should have left us equally provided for. She was determined to recover what Cousin Richard had inherited, and besides, he was rich before Papa died.'

'Have you any friends?' Prudence asked, dragging her mind back from this ingenuous revelation of Lady Mottesford's mercenary designs.

'Only Miss Jackson. She used to be my governess, when I was small, and she writes to me quite often. She stayed longer than any of the later ones, for she was not afraid of Papa.'

'She sounds the right sort of person, but how can a governess help you? She will be living in someone else's home,' Prudence pointed out.

'Not Miss Jackson. You see, she inherited a legacy, and she and her sister were able to set up a small school in Bath. That is why she left me.'

'Could you go to her?'

'Yes, I am sure she would hide me, but how could I go? I have no money, and I would be afraid to travel alone on the stage.'

Prudence's eyes were gleaming.

'I'll dress as your maid and come with you. As for money, I have just had my quarter's allowance and I have plenty. But what about Mr Gregory? I know, you must write to him and he can either persuade your mama she must permit the marriage to prevent a scandal, or come to Bath and marry you there.'

'I dare not!' Charlotte said, but Prudence had little difficulty in persuading her it was the only thing to do. Charlotte was so terrified of being forced into wedlock with Hubert she was desperate enough to take steps which her normally timid nature would have shrunk from.

'We'll take the stage tomorrow morning,' Prudence said, busy already with plans. 'Sit down now and write to Edward, and I will arrange he receives it tomorrow morning.'

'No, I cannot go so soon!' Charlotte protested. 'Ought I not to write to Miss Jackson first to see whether she is willing to receive me?'

'She might write to your mama,' Prudence warned. 'But in any case her letter to you might be intercepted by Lady Mottesford. If you simply appear on her doorstep there is little she can do except take you in, and after you have seen her she is bound to be prepared to help.'

'And I think it would be better if I saw Edward to explain, too,' Charlotte said slowly. 'He usually rides in the Park every morning, and I can slip out of the house, or tell Mama I am walking with you. She and Emma are so busy planning bride clothes they will not pay much heed to what I am doing.'

'Yes, and perhaps you should not oppose the suggestion of Hubert, to throw them off the scent. I don't mean agree to it,' she added hurriedly as Charlotte turned startled eyes towards her, 'just seem uncaring, as though you are becoming resigned and cannot be too much against it.'

Although Prudence was sorry for the delay, she knew it was partly her own desire to escape for a short while from the curious looks of her acquaintances that made her anxious to leave London. There seemed no great urgency, for with the announcement of Emma's wedding Lady Mottesford would be unlikely to wish to leave London too soon, and she was so confident of her own cleverness she would be totally unsuspicious of Charlotte's uncharacteristic rebellion.

Their plans suffered the first setback when, having walked in the Park for long hours on three consecutive days without a glimpse of Edward, Prudence learned through Sarah that he had left London.

'Where has he gone? When does he mean to return?' she demanded, and was not greatly comforted when told he would be away for another two days only.

Charlotte was terrified he would not come back, and to distract her Prudence persuaded her to write a letter to Edward which could be sent to his rooms to await his homecoming.

'Mama says she will send a notice of betrothals to
The Gazette
next week,' she told Prudence on the following day.

'That will be too late, she cannot do it if you have disappeared. I wondered why Emma's betrothal had not yet been announced,' she said with as casual an air as she could manage.

'She — Mama, and Cousin Richard have been trying to arrange where the wedding is to be,' Charlotte explained. 'Cousin Richard wants to announce the date and place when the betrothal is notified, but he wants to marry in Worcestershire and Emma insists on being married at St George's, Hanover Square. Mama is trying to find somewhere they can both agree on, and she now wants it to be at Trelawn Manor. She said Hubert and I could marry there, too, at the same time.'

Suppressing her own anguish, Prudence wondered briefly who would win this battle of wills, then she turned her attention to plans for the journey to Bath, packing a small valise with necessities for both of them, since Charlotte would be less able to smuggle what she needed out of the house, and writing a letter to be left for her aunt, explaining what she was doing and the necessity for it.

'She will understand,' she reassured Charlotte. 'She is never angry with me for long, it is too fatiguing for her, and she has said what a ghastly man Hubert is.'

'I wish Edward were back,' Charlotte sighed.

'The day after tomorrow. Shall we walk in the Park in the morning?'

BOOK: Sally James
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