Yes, pretty fine speeches, Prudence thought. “But what is to prevent you from being in my company as much as you wish? And so well chaperoned, too, that I could not pester you with my unsuitable conversation, or lure you with my immodest gown. Next time don’t feel you require your cousin plus a bishop and two judges. Lady Cleff will always be sufficient to keep me in line.”
He longed to answer her in kind, or better to sweep her into his arms and kiss that saucy smile. When had Prudence become such an accomplished flirt? “My cousin may be enough to hold you in check; I require the full weight of clergy and the law.”
“You have set yourself a new standard, I gather?”
“Yes.”
“And are quite determined to stick to it?”
“I am.”
“Tant pis,”she said with a toss of her head, and turned to join Clarence and her mother.
Provoking girl, he thought, watching her go. No, provocative girl. She is doing it on purpose to bait me, but she won’t succeed.
Across the room, Prudence was similarly occupied in considering Dammler's behaviour. He had become as stiff and proper as a martinet. The old lightness and fun had gone from him, and she couldn’t understand it. In off-guard moments, she noticed his eyes looking at her longingly, so why was he being distant? If he had come to offer for her, why didn’t he do it?
While the youngsters and savages had been dancing, Elmtree and the Countess had made great advances in their friendship. They were two chunks cut from the same bolt, and hadn’t a flaw to find in each other. Elmtree had received gracious permission to paint her, and the very next morning was agreed upon as the first of the three sittings. Prudence felt a great fear she would be called upon to chaperone them, and to make it more inconvenient, the picture was to be painted here, at the Countess’ home.
“I will want a corner of the room in the background,” she was saying. “The Purple Saloon, I think, with Papa’s picture in the background.
“We can do better than that for a symbol,” Clarence informed her. “Some heraldic emblem or crest. We won’t want any room in the background. Your colouring calls for a solid curtain of blue, to bring out your bright cheeks, with the family crest for a symbol.”
The Countess considered this, and found it not wanting in taste. It was agreed, but when Clarence mentioned that he would go to Beecher Hill one day and paint some Nature, the Countess was visited by inspiration. “Gainsborough,” she said. “You will paint me surrounded by Nature, as Gainsborough painted my mother.”
“A green curtain would do as well as a blue, with the orange cheeks,” Clarence said. Certainly frees, grass and shrubs would merge into a curtain of undifferentiated green in his rendition. It was settled that the green curtain of Beecher Hill would provide the backdrop for tomorrow’s painting session.
“You will come with me, Dammler,” she decreed.
“Why do we not all go and make a picnic of it?” he suggested, to secure Prudence’s company.
Mrs. Mallow hastily excused herself, but Prudence agreed to go, and the next morning under a lead grey sky they went to Beecher Hill to paint sunny Nature.
Chapter 20
The Countess proved an admirable model. She asked what Clarence was doing with every movement of the brush, and was appreciative of ochre shadows and the impossibility of foreshortening. Her hands seemed to fall naturally into the correct pose without a word being said. The two went on so merrily that Dammler ventured to mention that he and Miss Mallow might go for a stroll until it was time to eat.
“Yes, run along,” the Countess said. “You disturb Mr. Elmtree with your fidgetting and prattle. An artist needs peace and quiet to work.”
“How very well they rub along,” Dammler said as they began to walk away. “My cousin spoke last night of going up to London next Season. I think Elmtree has been getting to her.”
“Hussy. I should stay behind to protect my uncle. I was never before allowed to abandon him to such peril as a titled widow. But she may find herself at point non plus. He speaks of buying up a little cottage in Bath.”
“Do you suppose we’ve unwittingly brought about a match?”
“Let us wait and see if the magnum opus pleases. She may not like having a button nose and a sylph-like figure.”
“She can console herself with the family crest.”
“I don’t know that it will be a consolation. Uncle has never painted a lion rampant before. He will likely turn it into a pussy cat, and don’t think for a moment he will disfigure the unicorn by including the horn. That will be removed entirely.” She strayed behind a bunch of thorn bushes as she talked, and her companion pointed out that it might be better if they stayed in sight of their relations.
“Why?” she asked.
“My cousin is a Trojan for propriety,” he said, but his only reason for mentioning it was to let her see his own new awareness of decorum.
It seemed so foolish to Prudence, after the degree of latitude pertaining to their former intercourse, that she laughed outright. “I believe the Divines have got to you, Dammler. I fully expect to see you standing up to take the reading at the Abbey next Sunday.” She scampered out of the protection of her uncle, and Dammler followed at no dragging pace, but intent on being punctilious to every minutia of respect.
“You will be a sad disappointment to your friends if you carry on so in London,” Prudence warned him with a teasing smile. She did not like this new Dammler nearly so well as the old, and was determined to change him back.
“I mean to discontinue association with such friends as would be disappointed,” he answered carefully.
“Do you indeed? So I am to be cut, am I?”
He stopped walking and turned to face her. “I am trying to be a perfectly honourable and respectable gentleman, Prudence, and you are not of much help.”
She pouted. “You did not treat me so formally before. Why must you change?”
“To please you. Why do you think I languish in that barracks of a place my cousin has, with no agreeable company, going to lectures and discussions on the Reformed calendar, but to please you?”
“Please me? I wouldn’t do such things myself. Why should I expect it of you?”
“Ihave a past to expiate.”
“You will have a worse future to expiate as well if you carry on in this way much longer. I see you chafing at the bit to laugh and joke and so on.”
“Especially so on.” The temptation was too much for him. He grabbed her, first by the hands, but soon had both arms around her in a strong grip and was trying to kiss her.
At twenty-four years of age, Prudence had never been in a man’s arms before. Never had been kissed. She had wanted to turn Dammler back to his old funning self; she had never expected this violent result, and pushed him off in surprise.
“That was not called for,” she said, gasping for breath.
“Don’t tease me if you don’t want me to reciprocate. I'm too new at respectability to withstand this repeated temptation. You’re flaunting yourself at me, Prudence. With those low-cut gowns and fast talk. If you really want me to be worthy, don’t do it.”
“I am not flaunting myself,” she replied in indignation.
“You’ve been egging me on to misbehave since the moment I came here. I came determined to be good, respectable, to please you. I would not have borne what I have these past two weeks but for you, and you repay me by trying at every chance to make me break my resolve, so you can throw in my face what a rake I am.”
“I did not.”
“You did, my girl, and you wouldn’t be so angry if it weren’t true.”
“How was I to know why you were acting so unlike yourself? You never said a word to me.”
“And you, who know me better than I know myself, couldn’t imagine why? Why did you think I went flying off to Reading to make an ass of myself in front of you and Seville, green with jealousy, if not because I loved you.”