She jumped in to prevent exposure of the date of their last meeting. “From Hanover Square you leave? I must go down and see you off one day. I have never seen it. I hear it is a famous sight.”
“There is usually a pretty good turnout to see us off.”
Seville was astonished at this change in her behaviour. Quite throwing herself at his head. It occurred to him she regretted her decision in refusing him. Her brash manner also led him to suspect she had known all along it was not marriage he had meant. She had been pulling his leg- having a little joke at his expense. He always thought she was up to all the rigs. But she was too late-negotiations were nearing completion for his nuptials with the “Barren” Baroness, and even more interesting plans afoot for teaming up with a pretty little dancer from Covent Garden.
“I will be in the crowd next time. Look out for me,” Prudence said, to keep up the appearance of friendship.
“I won’t be there next time. I am off to Bath tomorrow for a week’s visit.”
“Oh, I have never been to Bath. I should like to see it some time. Is it nice? I thought it was quite dull nowadays."
Why, the minx was clearly throwing herself at his head. If that wasn’t a hint! “A little quiet. One must make one’s own excitement.”
“I’m sure you are well able to do that.”
“I hope to keep from being moped to death,” he answered, then turning aside to Hettie, he addressed some few remarks to her. Happy to think she had brushed through not too badly, Prudence took her leave of them both with a wave of her hand, as though she had a million things to do. She was only looking for a hired hack to climb in and take home the frame she had selected for Clarence’s approval.
“Miss Mallow is so charming-a pity she turned you down,” Lady Melvine continued on talking to Seville. “But one hears you will soon be making an announcement of a match with someone quite different.”
This was the first intimation Seville had that Miss Mallow had told anyone of his offer to her. Since she had appeared to misunderstand it, he was relieved she had kept it to herself. The old Baroness would fly into the boughs if she heard of that tale. He hardly knew what to say-to deny outright having made her a proper offer would be ungentlemanly, and to confirm it would be a disaster to himself. “I hadn’t realized she was bruiting it around,” he parried for time.
“No, now I come to think of it, I believe she told only Dammler, and in the greatest secrecy. He told no one but myself, and I have not breathed a word. But it is no secret to you that you offered for her, so no harm done."
“Is that what she says-that I offered for her? Ha, ha, well it never does to contradict a lady, what? But don’t spread it around. A certain Baroness you know, would not like to hear it.”
Lady Melvine’s suspicions were naturally aroused at this veiled statement “Why, you rascal, Seville, I believe you deceived the poor girl.”
“Deceived her? There was some deceit in the business I begin to think, but you must not be too hasty in placing the blame.”
He left, eager to extract himself from the unpleasant predicament without being too specific. But his words fell on fertile soil. Miss Mallow was not seven years old, and she must have known as well as everyone else in the city that Seville was dangling after the Baroness. Why, he had offered Prudence nothing but a carte blanche, and she had elected to turn it into an offer in form, and for no other reason but to make Dammler jealous. All her sly questions and comments about being displeased of the Countess Malvern. What a clever little article she was, to be sure, and making herself out the picture of innocence. She, with her drawing the line at five by-blows, and her Maidenhair Ferns, and its being the births Dammler was interested in. Such wily behaviour as this was sheer joy to Hettie. She went straight home and penned a long letter to Dammler telling him the whole amusing story, together with every other bit of gossip she could think of, then set it aside and forgot about it until, two days later, Bishop Michael’s wife left him. This was written into another letter, and when she prepared to send it off, she discovered the first one still on the desk, and slipped it into the envelope also.
“Our innocent Miss Prudence has been bamming us all,” she had written. “Seville’s offer may have been in form, but not the form she would have us believe. It was nothing else but his mistress he meant to make her, as I told you all along. Yes, and I think she regrets turning him off, too, for she was fairly throwing her cap at him today on Bond Street. But he escapes her and goes to Bath (with his chère amie, I fancy). How surprised he will be if Miss M. follows him down. She claimed a great interest in seeing Bath. But I may be mistaken-I believe she has some other beau in her eye, as well. She is full of engagements. She tells me to inform you she is not pleased with your ‘distraction’ keeping you from work. What can she mean, I wonder!”
She reread it with a chuckle before sealing it, unaware that she had done anything more than give her nephew a good laugh. He seemed always to be laughing over something Miss Mallow had said or done.
Prudence went home in a state of nerves. Not only her study but all of London was becoming intolerable to her. The book was going poorly, and she wished for a change. Dammler had claimed to want peace and quiet to work-she wanted a noisy holiday with not even the pretence of work. Brighton, where the ton would soon be going with the Season coming to a close, was too steep for her poor resources. Mr. Seville’s mention of Bath came to her. Mama had been feeling poorly lately; the waters might do her some good.
The major flaw in the plan was that Mr. Seville would be there. She did not like to give the impression she was trailing after him, as he might be forgiven for thinking after the saucy way she had hailed him on Bond Street. But he was leaving tomorrow-staying only for a week. By the time she had arranged through an agent for lodgings and got herself and Mama there, the week would be up. In fact, she would not go before a week was up. That this also gave Dammler more than double the time he had claimed to require at Finefields had nothing to do with it. He might stay as long and be as distracted as he liked. It was nothing to her.
The subject of the trip was broached at home, with some little trepidation lest Clarence might object to letting his horses take such a journey on their behalf. But to her relief it proved the very thing to put her back in his good graces. Her manner of introducing it may have had something to do with it.
“I was speaking to Mr. Seville today, Uncle,” she said cleverly.
“Seville? Were you indeed? Well, that is nice. I think you gave the marquis short shrift. I am happy to see he is dangling after you again. A Spanish title is no small thing when all’s said and done. So, Seville is back after you, is he? I am happy to hear It.”
“He is going to Bath,” she added. “He spoke very highly of it. I quite wished I were going myself. I shouldn’t wonder if the waters would be good for you, too, Mama.”
Mrs. Mallow was delighted to see her daughter divert her thoughts from the impossible direction of Lord Dammler and she too thought the waters would do her a world of good. The very thing. Even more good to see Prudence settled with Mr. Seville. She had no illusions as to his having a title up his sleeve.
“So you are off to Bath with Seville, eh?” Clarence ran on, making up a story to please himself and Mrs. Hering.
“Not with Mr. Seville, Uncle. He leaves tomorrow. But I should like to go along a little later.”