The party finally broke up with the ensemble packing away its instruments and Gervase saying ‘goodnight’ very firmly; at which point Frank Churchill missed his wife.
Georgiana confronted him.
“I have put Mrs Churchill to bed with a maid to be on hand, Mr Churchill; she is plainly unwell,” she said.
Frank exerted all his charm and smiled.
“Oh poor Jane has these megrims; I fancy she feels that they make her more interesting. I am so sorry you have been put unnecessarily to trouble, Lady Georgiana. I can rouse her if you will show me….”
They he got the terms of address wrong Georgiana might have forgiven; it was a breach of etiquette to be expected of a provincial. It was his attitude to his wife that angered her.
“Mr Churchill, your wife is unwell; and I will on no account have her disturbed,” said Georgiana, sounding much like Aunt Mouser, “and if she is brought to bed before her time I fancy it will be through travelling too far and then staying out too late at night. I will have Mr Perry up to see her on the morrow; and if all is well I shall have a message sent to you so that if she wishes she may return to your father’s home; but on
no
account are you to drag her back to London! If you do, I shall ask my brother and Mr John Knightley to see that your name is dragged in the mud. Do I make myself pellucidly clear?”
“Why
, er, quite, Lady Georgiana,” stammered Frank Churchill who had never encountered before any female apart from his aunt who was not only so immune to his charm but also so dictatorial in the extreme.
He retired abashed.
Chapter 45
The village of Highbury was unwontedly quiet for a Friday; Mr Perry had withdrawn from the ball early – as he had said, one never knew when a physician might be needed – but many had stayed on out of curiosity if nothing else. And Miss Bates left everything in the house in the hands of her little maid of all work and slept blissfully on into the afternoon dreaming of glittering ballrooms and – in her dreams she dared to dream it – handsome lords to sweep a much younger version of herself off her feet.
Gervase was forced to rise relatively early when his man of affairs arrived from London; and Mr Blenkinsop was roused also to help draw up an agreement leaving the greater part of Prudence’s fortune and anticipated inheritance in her own hands.
Mr Peabody the man of affairs made protest that this was unwise, to trust a female with money, as they did not know how to spend wisely ,and moreover a girl of suddenly elevated social estate would doubtless let it go to her head.
“Gammon
,” said Gervase, “my affianced bride has more sense and a better idea of the value of money than nine out of ten of the young men who are technically old enough to administer their own affairs. And if I am in Lincolnshire and she in London – or indeed vice versa – and a situation arises that requires the outlay of the ready, I need her to be able to do so without cavil or interference.”
“Why what might she do in London that I could not do on her behalf?” asked Mr Peabody huffily.
“Oh hire rooms and houses for any of my tenants burned out in an accidental fire” said Gervase “As you quibbled over doing when my secretary suggested it while I was in Spain. He did the sensible thing and borrowed from my Aunt Katherine; and were you not long in my family employ you would have had your congé for that
piece of flummer
y. But you see, I trust my
wife
to be to do as I would do; not as keeps my fortune intact without reference to my moral obligations.”
Mr Peabody went a dull scarlet; he recalled still the tongue-lashing he had received on the return of the Marquess from
Spain, still in a uniform that had seen better days – he did not know but that had been the Major’s best uniform at the time – hotfoot from speaking to Mr Paulson.
“He’s an irritating man,” said Gervase to Prudence, “but he was my father’s factor and his father was our family man of affairs before him and if he’s inclined to be a little cheeseparing, he’s honest and scrupulous. I could scarcely turn him off for doing his job – as he sees it – to the best of his ability.”
“No; it would be most improper and cruel
,” said Prudence. “I shall try not to fratch with him.”
“Do WHAT?” said Gervase.
“Argue; I beg your pardon, it is a term from Yorkshire.”
“It is descriptive
,” said Gervase, “and most inappropriate; so for a forfeit you must give me a kiss.”
Prudence drew readily close to him.
“And that My Lord is no forfeit” she murmured as he gathered her into his arms.
“No; but it was a good excuse
,” said Gervase, unrepentantly.
The sheep in the field through which they were walking cared not about the antics of humans; and if Mrs Elton walking by was offended neither of the lovers cared, and would have laughed to hear her describe their embrace to her
caro sposo
as
“Quite a vulgar display; why I should not be surprised to find out that he is no such thing as a Marquess and that it is all some kind of elaborate hoax!”
Unaware of Mrs Elton’s opprobrium the lovers finally
fell apart remaining handlocked as they walked on aimlessly; and if the day was chill and damp, for them it was warm spring.
“Will we get married in
Yorkshire or Lincolnshire, Gervase?” asked Prudence, “and when may we do so?”
“Neither; we shall be married in St George’s Hanover square
,” said Gervase, “it is the proper thing to do; and though I should rather marry you out of my seat in Lincolnshire so all the servants, labourers and tenants might attend I shall not do so because it is entirely likely that someone will start the on-dit that I have married you in a hole-in-the-corner way because I am ashamed of you and of your relations.”
“Fustian
,” said Prudence.
“Fustian it may be; even gammon; or even as one of my tenants would put it, all tripes and trollibags
,” said Gervase, “and now I am avenged for dialect. But the point is, I will
not
court unnecessary gossip about my wife – or about your family. I am perfectly happy to welcome all your cousins to the wedding – though I fancy getting Mr Woodhouse to stir himself is unlikely. He is too likely to take a fit of the blue devils just at the idea of travelling.”
“Uncle Henry is indeed much addicted to the megrims
,” said Prudence, “but he will wish me well, even if he will doubtless believe that something terrible is going to befall me through being wed.”
Gervase grinned.
“
Most
fond mamas warn their daughters that it is something terrible but that they must put up with their husband’s bedroom behaviour and be complacent about their little liaisons with those kinds of women who do not mind such bedroom antics,” he said.
Prudence flushed.
“I may be a green girl but I am more than seven; and I can see further than the end of my nose,” she said. “I know where lambs come from and why you put a tup in with ewes. Well that is to say, I have some idea,” she amended. “
Do
you plan to have liaisons?”
“No” said Gervase “Which is not to say I have not; and as you know, Elvira was one of them. Generally I have stuck to paphians and opera dances and this is not a conversation I should be having with you, you wretched girl.”
“As I recall you brought the subject up in delicately hinting about a, er, physical side of marriage,” Prudence was scarlet, “well if you do not intend to have liaisons, Lord Alverston, I think then it is entirely your responsibility to make sure that your wife is able to fulfil the function of such, er, paphians in learning to enjoy the function that they fulfil.”
“Do you know, Miss Blenkinsop, I was planning on just such an education for my bride
,” said Gervase, “why are we being formal?”
“Because I have noticed that Emma and George do it when they are exchanging their most intimate looks
,” said Prudence.
“Why so they do! Miss Blenkinsop; you are quite correct. So I should look forward in instructing Lady Alverston….”
Further conversation was curtailed for a further long kiss.
Gervase had to return to London to finalise the details of the wedding, arranging a time that St George’s would be available and sending out invitations once the date in July was finalised; because Gervase wished to be back on his lands for such harvest as there might be.
Obtaining a special licence was necessary since the date was drawing near and calling the banns in their own parishes immaterial as neither belonged to
St George’s; but it posed no real problem.
And Prudence was occupied in making the ribbon roses to trim the bridal gown that
Hester was making for her, and too the bridesmaids’ dresses; and Emma was to be her matron of honour.
And Diana was delighted to be having a gown of red velvet made up for her!
Prudence received congratulations all round, save from the Eltons who did not call; though the last word has to be left to Henry Woodhouse.
“
Poor
Prudence! To enter the state of matrimony is bad enough but to have to live in the northerly part of England, with hills everywhere ruining your health…… oh it does not bear thinking about, my poor dear niece!”
[Fluffer Nutter]