Cousin Prudence (2 page)

Read Cousin Prudence Online

Authors: Sarah Waldock

Tags: #dpgroup.org, #Fluffer Nutter

George laughed.

“I really cannot see your father, even twenty or thirty years ago, wishing to make the long journey to Yorkshire!  No, if you want my opinion, my
very
dear Mrs Knightley, he repeats but the words his own father used without examining the implications of the same.  It will be hard to show him that Cousin Prudence is anything but what he believes but I hope her own demeanour will do so!”

“Oh George! 
How
dear is Mrs Knightley to you?”

The young bride was easily sidetracked still.

Fussing over the visitor’s room was postponed for a while whilst Mr Knightley explained in great detail.

 

 

Deciphering Isabella’s letter which arrived within a few days of Emma writing to her was not an easy matter.  Isabella had crossed and re-crossed her writing and the diagonal recrossing made the rest extremely difficult to read.

“And,” said Emma crossly, “it’s not as though we can’t afford the extra sixpence for her to write on a second sheet.  I
think
she’s had a conniption….. no, she’s asking what papa knows of this connection…. Oh, she doubts Prudence’s bona fides.  Well Papa knew all about her existence so I can’t see why she should be making such a goose of herself over it as though it were a Banbury Tale.  I wish you will write to John and tell him not to permit Isabella to make such a to-do over nothing!”

“Here, let me see if I can decipher it
,” said George.

Emma handed her sister’s letter over at once; there were no secrets between herself and her husband and this was not the sort of sisterly letter that one might hesitate to let a man read.  It was a thoroughgoing diatribe.  George squinted and winced, turned the paper to read each direction of writing and sighed.

“What?” said Emma.

“I don’t think she is writing about an elephant
,” said George, “ah, no, I think she’s asking if this girl is to be our dependant….she is making a bit of a Cheltenham Tragedy out of it” he added  “Perhaps she…. “

“What?” said Emma suspiciously.

George flushed.

“I have heard it said that some women may be a little…..volatile…..when they are in an interesting condition
,” he said.

Emma stared.

“OH!” she exclaimed “Well that would explain a lot…. But Isabella
is
a little inclined to be a little er, volatile about things sometimes at the best of times.”

George reflected that this was true.  Isabella lacked the vivacity of Emma but she could be relied on to read a lecture readily enough.

George wrote promptly to his brother John, and reflected that at least his brother respected his opinion and would, with the clues to Miss Blekinsop’s probable fortune

laid out before him, manage to recognise them for himself.  He explained carefully that Mr Woodhouse had known of Prudence Blenkinsop’s existence before this time and had himself no doubts in the matter of her identity; and that any impostor was scarcely likely to send a note of hand to the extent that showed him under no illusions as to the cost of a Season. 

He sent the letter prudently several days before riding up to town himself to cash the note of hand and speak to Mr Blenkinsop’s banker so he might have given John time to quieten any hysterics Isabella might manage to produce from the discovery that she had a genuine cousin of less than genteel origin.  He called in to see the couple – and spent time playing with his nieces and nephews – before riding back to Highbury.   He found Isabella full of shrewd questions but much calmer once she knew that this was not some designing Female hoping to hang on her poor papa’s sleeve and take advantage of his kind and sentimental nature.  The idea of an extended visit to her childhood home pleased her greatly and John was happy to run up and down to town as he required. 

“So long as poor Emma will not feel too fagged and blue devilled having to care for this chit
,” said Isabella. “I should not like to have the fatigue of launching a girl on the season myself, even though we do not move in the sort of circles that would require attending Almack’s or any of the more exhaustingly prestigious functions!”

“Oh I fancy Emma will contrive to enjoy herself
,” said George, smiling.

Emma would throw herself into it heart and soul and would doubtless apologise to
Prudence that the family did
not
move in such circles as to make it likely to obtain vouchers for Almack’s.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

Prudence Blenkinsop, unaware of the mental anguish her birth was causing certain of the Woodhouse family, wrote a polite and enthusiastic acceptance of their kind invitation, which, together with her father’s postscript on the same sheet to save postage, was sent forth in front of Miss Blenkinsop.

Prudence was exceedingly glad that her father had purchased a fine chaise fitted with Mr Elliot’s patent elliptical springs for greater comfort in travelling, and a safer ride too.  Mr Blenkinsop had bought it originally to squire his daughter to functions in
York and Harrogate; but as he said, the Mill was down the road and he needed no carriage for his own purposes for if he had to travel he might Post.  Mr Blenkinsop held strong views about young females of any station having to travel by Postchaise and his opinion was more marked where his own daughter was concerned.

Indeed so marked were his views that Prudence and her maid had a slightly less comfortable ride for the first part of their journey than they might otherwise  had done for carrying two of the family maidservants to their parent’s village for a visit that they have a safe journey; their return to be effected by farm cart.  Prudence indeed had no objection; her views were coloured by her father’s ideas, which held that if you took care of your dependants, they would take care of you.  It was one reason that he had received no trouble from Luddites at the mill; since the mill workers stau
nchly defended the place. 
Their
jobs were in no jeopardy from the exciting new developments of mechanisation; for Mr Blenkinsop saw such as a means to expand, not a means to cut down on the workforce.  Prudence wished Annie and Kate the best as she set them down and continued on her way.

Her maid, the faithful
Hester was heard to comment that life would be a bit more comfortable with those heedless fidgetsome widgeons out of the way.

 

The journey might be expected to be tedious; and Prudence, who was a mettlesome girl who disliked tedium, got out some knitting to occupy herself.  One might not readily sew in the rocking, swaying carriage but knitting, so long as it was quite plain, might be carried out readily even in adverse conditions.  She was knitting herself some fine cotton stockings; Hester was knitting herself some sensible woollen ones.

The sudden jarring of the carriage and its slump to one side accompanied by the shout of anger by Joseph the coachman was a shock.  The coach came suddenly to a halt leaning dramatically towards the left.

Prudence opened the door.  The ground was further away than was comfortable, but little deterred she jumped down, and turned to help Hester scramble out, grumbling that her knitting was now tangled.

“We ha’been run into the ditch bah yon muttonhead in tha’ phaeton sithee” said Joseph in his own idiom. “Eeh, Miss Prudence, art tha all right?”

“A trifle shaken but otherwise undamaged,” said Prudence, “and here comes another!  I have a good mind to give him a piece of my mind!”

She stepped into the road into the path of the oncoming horses.

By a piece of consummate skill the driver pulled the horses to a halt.  He was an imposing figure, tall and broad of shoulder, the outline of his figure further exaggerated by the large number of capes on his driving coat. He was swart of complexion with black hair and surprisingly light grey eyes that flashed with angry fire.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

“What is the meaning?  Why, sir, I should ask
you
the meaning of the reckless race you seem to be having with the fellow who has tipped me into a ditch!  You  idiots who think you are dandies or Corinthians or whatever are a danger to the public driving without due care and attention and with no idea how to respect the road!  And,”

she added severely
, “I doubt it can be much good for your horses either.”

Gervase, Lord Alverston, noted Corinthian and member of the Four Horse Club
, gaped in outrage.

“Madam
,” he said coldly, “I have
never
been accused of being a dandy.”

“Then
,” said Miss Blenkinsop with spirit, “you should look upon it as a new experience; new experiences are, they say, good for one.  And perchance it will have a salutary effect on your wild behaviour.”

“Madam
,” said Lord Alverston grinding his teeth, “I am pursuing my nephew – who appears to have caused your accident – because he is in danger of committing an indiscretion.  It is imperative that I catch up with him.”

“That’s all very well, but if you are responsible for this nephew of yours, you are then also responsible for my predicament and that of my dependants
,” said Prudence.

Alverston reached for a roll of soft.

Prudence gave him a look of disgust.

“What, pay me off like some discarded mistress of yours in a different sort of predicament?” she said scornfully
, “I do not think you grasp the realities of life, sir!  I shall expect a hand to my groom getting the chaise back on the road
and
a written apology from your nephew as satisfaction!”

Alverston flushed.  The girl was plainly gently bred; it was an insult to try to pay her off.

“One might look upon the new experience as educational,” he said a trifle flippantly to cover his embarrassment.  Miss Blenkinsop pursed her lips.


One
might; my dependants hardly so,” she said.

He flushed again.

“Very well; my groom will assist you,” he said harshly “John climb down.  To whom should my nephew address his apologies and where?”

“To Miss Blenkinsop, staying at Hartfield, Highbury, in
Surrey,” said Miss Blenkinsop.

“Very good; now stand away from my tits’ heads, I’m going to spring ‘em
,” said Alverston after making a quick scrawl on a tablet he had taken from his pocket.

Miss Blenkinsop stepped back in time and the phaeton disappeared in a cloud of dust as the horses were indeed sprung.

She turned to Alverston’s groom.

“Thank you for your assistance
,” she said, “It was civil of your employer too to lend us your aid; what are we to do to reunite you with him?”

“Bless you miss, when the chaise is on the road again, if you’ll put me off at the next coaching inn, His Lordship will pick me up
,” said the man. “Name’s John,” he took himself to the rear of the coach and eyed it as Joseph too surveyed the situation.  Fortunately the wheels appeared to be intact.

“Thank you John
,” said Miss Blenkinsop “His
Lordship
?” she was shocked.

“Aye, the Marquess of Alverston
,” said John with a grunt, taking the strain one side as Joseph took the other  “Aye, and a noted whip he is, miss, not used to being told off by anyone for his handling of the ribbons.”

“He was going too fast nonetheless
,” said Prudence, “he must have been travelling at quite twelve miles an hour!”

“Oh easily
,” said John, “and he’s one of a very few in England as could manage it safely on these roads, bad as they are; and
he’d
not have put you in the ditch, no nor even scraped your paintwork.”

“Well John, your loyalty does you credit; and trusting in your judgement as a professional perhaps I have been hasty in assuming er, Lord Alverston to be as reckless as his nephew; but alas, it is in the attempts to emulate such that leads to the errors of judgement of the less skilled
,” said Prudence; then added, “I should think it must be most tremendously exhilarating to travel at such a speed.”

“Aye, Miss, and there lies the main attraction
,” said John, “but those as can’t drive to an inch didn’t ought to be let try. 
That
I do agree with you on!  And Mr Arthur does have an exaggerated idea of his own powers of driving.  I can guarantee you that His Lordship will be pulling caps with the Honourable Arthur for his poor ribbon work and showing His Lordship up like that, not to mention risking yourself, Miss, and Miss Fairlees too.”

“Oh, it’s an elopement is it?” said Prudence. “Aren’t they going the wrong way for
Gretna?”

There was a long silence, bar sounds of effort as the chaise, inch by inch, moved up the bank of the shallow ditch towards the road.  At last it was safe and John regarded her severely.

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