Prudence Pursued Read online

His complexion was sadly weathered, presumably from exposure to the harsh elements of sun and sea in the Far East. His hair was golden brown; his one visible eye a brilliant blue. She felt safe in supposing the one concealed by the inimitable eye patch would match. Although he was dressed modishly in a dark blue coat, buckskins and top boots, there was nothing about the primping dandy in his dress.

  “Meg, he’s not old at all!” Prudence declared with a hiss.

  As though aware of her scrutiny, Sir James pivoted then and glanced in their direction. When he smiled, Prudence observed he had excellent teeth. Taking his leave from the red-haired man he’d been conversing with, Sir James made his way across the salon toward them. Despite his limp, he moved with a quick, masculine grace. Prudence thought him quite nimble for a man of his height.

  “My dear Miss Leyes.” He took possession of her hand.

  Prudence noticed how her cousin stiffened and ducked her head. The gesture seemed one of guilt rather than coy shyness. What game is Meg playing at? Before Margaret could make the proper introductions, Sir James released her hand and regarded Prudence.

  “You must be Miss Prudence Pentyre, Miss Leyes’s cousin,” he said, shaking her hand. There was an amused glimmer in his one visible eye. The hint of a smile quivered at the corner of his mouth. Making a slight bow, he added, “I am Sir James Brownell, as you must already know. I believe my future happiness depends on the good impression I make upon you now. You see, I have a sneaking suspicion dear Miss Leyes has invited you to Bath with the intent purpose of seeking your evaluation of my worthiness as her suitor.” His voice was deep and pleasing to the ear.

  “You are quite candid, Sir James,” Prudence replied, surveying him with mild hostility. And too bold by half!

  “Let me be even more candid, Miss Pentyre. I admire your earlobes. I cannot but wonder if you would dare wear tiger’s teeth for earbobs as the Dyak women do.” Before Prudence could stammer a response, he added, “I presented a perfectly matched pair to Miss Leyes, but she seemed repulsed by my rare and unusual gift. I can assure you such ornaments are all the crack in Borneo.” He grinned down at her.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Prudence noticed the crimson flush on her cousin’s cheeks. She could feel her own cheeks flame with heat as well. I am fencing with a master, she decided, experiencing a rush of exhilaration. She could be bold too when she chose and decided to brazen this out.

  “Cousin, you did not show me these exotic earbobs,” she chastised. “I would like to see them. Perhaps you would even allow me to wear them, if you will not.”

  Margaret, appearing slightly alarmed, replied in a quiet under tone, “They are not at all the thing.” Frowning, she averted her gaze and appeared to study the pattern of Lady Oldenfield’s Turkish carpet.

  Prudence glanced up at Sir James, a militant sparkle in her eyes. Keeping her voice polite and pleasant, she said, “I shall try to persuade Margaret to allow me to wear the earbobs. Who knows? By doing so, I may start a new fashion in Bath.”

  “You have spunk,” Brownell proclaimed with an approving nod.

  Embarrassed, Margaret glanced around the salon and asked impatiently, “Sir James, where is the physician? If I must go through this ordeal, I would like to get it over with as soon as possible.”

  “He is performing the vaccinations in the library over there.” Brownell indicated an open door connecting the salon with the library next door. “I assure you, Miss Leyes, it is a simple procedure and a relatively painless one. I only wish I had been given the opportunity to undergo it myself. Instead, I endured one of the most miserable experiences of my life when my father had me inoculated against smallpox when I was a child.”

  “I believe they call it buying the pox,” Prudence interjected.

  He nodded. “Yes. I was locked in a stable with other boys my age and prepared for inoculation. We survived on a diet of vegetables and water only. They took blood from our veins and purged our bodies until we were thin and wasted. Small pox scabs were then attached to the open cuts on our arms. I became ill with a high fever, nausea, and seeping sores. I was not released to my father’s care again until the disease had run its course, and the scabs dropped off.”

  “How long did this dreadful ordeal last?” Margaret queried, her thin brows knitted into a frown.

  “Three long months, my dear Miss Leyes, and I’ve never forgotten the experience, I can assure you.”

  “I believe my own father endured the same,” Prudence told him. “It is why he has so fervently embraced Dr. Jenner’s simple vaccination.”

  “You have been vaccinated, Miss Pentyre?” Brownell inquired politely.

  “I have,” she admitted. “Thanks to Dr. Jenner, people need no longer worry about catching smallpox from a friend or neighbor as easily as they would the common cold. My father predicts in time Jenner’s vaccination will bring about the annihilation of the disease throughout the world.”

  “There is no doubt. Perhaps in our lifetime, we will see it,” Brownell ventured. “Throughout the British Empire, at least, it is quite possible.”

  Margaret touched Prudence lightly on the elbow. “Clarissa Paige has come with her brother Harry,” she said indicating the new arrivals, who lingered upon the threshold exchanging a greeting with their hostess. “I most particularly wish to speak to them about… er… something. I shall leave the two of you to become better acquainted.”

  After the slightest glance at Sir James and a brief inclination of her head, Margaret flashed a wide-eyed stare, pregnant with meaning, at Prudence. Then she hurried away with a swish of rustling skirts to greet the new arrivals.

  Sighing, Brownell watched her go. His brow wrinkled. “The poor girl. I fear she is neither a romantic creature nor a courageous one.”

  Prudence said, in slightly acid tone, “Nor as biddable as you expected either, I wager.” She thrust her chin forward in a challenging manner.

  He gave her a smile, his blue eye twinkling. “Miss Pentyre, you misjudge me. I do not want a biddable wife. But I had hopes Margaret might fall violently in love with me. I am sorry to say she has not done so.”

  “No, Margaret does not love you,” Prudence told him. “I should say her feelings for you are lukewarm at best.”

  Sir James nodded with approval. “You do not mince your words, Miss Pentyre. I like that.” Looking at her in a penetrating way Prudence found somewhat disconcerting, he added, “I cannot think why we have never met before as I am so often in Bath visiting my mother. I know you visit your aunt and cousin frequently too. Had we met before, I’m certain I would have remembered. You have such handsome eyes—particularly when they snap and sparkle, as they do now.”

  Annoyed, Prudence narrowed her handsome eyes. At first, she thought he was flirting with her, but his tone was too matter-of-fact. His countenance appeared more pensive than playful. “No, Sir James, we have not met before,” she assured him, her tone crisp. “You spend much of your time in the Orient, I am told, and I do not visit Bath as often as you suppose.”

  “But while you are here, I hope you will plead my case with Margaret. Will she allow herself to be guided by you, do you think?” He regarded her with a quirk of his eyebrows.

  “In this particular matter, I cannot say. I don’t know,” Prudence confessed. He admired her frankness—or so he claimed. She would be even more frank. Smoothing the skirt of her dress with one nervous hand, she forged ahead. “Sir James, I am curious why you should have selected my cousin as the woman you wish to marry. As you have pointed out, Margaret is not in love with you, and you cannot claim to be in love with her either.”

  “How do you know?” he quizzed. When she did not immediately reply, he added, “Margaret is virtuous and from a good family. She has a plain but pleasing countenance—particularly when she smiles. I would not pursue her if I thought she harbored a secret infatuation for someone else, but I have seen no evidence of this. Therefore, I will persist.” As an afterthought, he leaned closer and asked, “You
do not think she is secretly in love with another, do you?”

  “You are the second person to ask me the same question today,” Prudence replied, looking up at him with a bemused expression.

  “Who was the first?”

  “My Aunt Judith.”

  “Surely, if Mrs. Leyes doesn’t know, it cannot be so,” Brownell prompted.

  Prudence gave him a rueful smile. “You don’t understand how easily a daughter can keep her mother from finding out such things.”

  “I daresay you are right,” he conceded. “But then, Margaret is not high-spirited.”

  Prudence chuckled and tilted her head to one side. “But as I have already pointed out, she is not as compliant as you had expected or as my aunt had hoped.”

  The teasing glimmer in his good eye brightened. “True. And shall I tell you something? I like your cousin all the more for it.”

  “Sir James, I might as well tell you I have no intention of coaxing my cousin against her wishes into a marriage with you or anyone else,” Prudence declared with a defiant thrust of her chin.

  “Quite wise—considering,” he replied.

  “Considering what?”

  “Your own unmarried state, of course,” Brownell replied with a shrug. “You can hardly be an appropriate counselor for Margaret, convincing her to enter into matrimony when you have not done so yourself. I believe your aunt was misguided in her efforts to have you do so. No doubt your own mama wished you to come—perhaps to tell Margaret how being a spinster is not an ideal circumstance for any young woman.”

  Prudence swallowed back a heated retort. The man was insufferable! No wonder her cousin felt reluctant to accept his proposal of marriage. Prudence had rarely met anyone as rude. “What an unhandsome remark,” she snapped.

  Brownell bowed stiffly. “I am frank. I told you so. If you are unwilling to be my colleague in winning Margaret’s hand, I hope you will at least refrain from being my opponent.” He flashed her a sudden and disarming smile. “Miss Pentyre, please say you will not stand in my way.”

  Prudence felt strangely off balance in his presence. She didn’t like the feeling at all. She also acknowledged she had always been headstrong and willful—not the best traits in a female. Perhaps this was the real reason she was not married. Like Sir James, she often spoke her mind and asked questions others would consider impolite or even prying. Appraising him with a critical eye, she remembered what her aunt had confided to her, how the man had behaved in a most generous fashion, even expressing a willingness to pay off Uncle Giles’s shameful gambling debts. Sir James might have other redeemable qualities as well, besides being wealthy and willing to marry her plain and rather shy cousin.

  After a moment, Prudence replied, “You are on your own in this, but I will not stand in your way. I only wish for my cousin’s happiness.”

  “Thank you, Miss Pentyre. I am in your debt,” he murmured, his lips twitching slightly.

  Glancing toward the tea table where Margaret appeared to be enjoying an animated conversation with Clarissa Paige and her brother Harry, Prudence had an uncomfortable feeling the conversation had become much too personal for Lady Oldenfield’s small salon. What if they should be overheard? Fixing a polite society smile upon her face, she decided to change the subject. “How exactly did you come by your injuries, sir?” she inquired.

  “Ah, this pitiful limp! It is quite temporary, I assure you, and the eye patch as well,” he informed her. Then leaning closer, he added, “But do not, I pray, reveal that bit of information, Miss Pentyre. Believing I have lost an eye while crossing swords with Malay pirates, the ladies think me quite romantic, and the gentlemen admire me excessively. It is most gratifying.”

  Prudence laughed in spite of herself. The man was incorrigible! Brownell went on to relate his exciting narrative with the skill of a natural-born storyteller. She could easily imagine the burst of gunfire, the shouts and taunts exchanged during the skirmish. In her mind’s eye, she pictured the pirates in their exotic headdresses of feathers of birds-of- paradise, armed with their shields and curved swords. Brownell told her the Malay pirates were the scourges of the East Indies, and she believed him.

  “They are the bane of the British, the Spanish and Dutch vessels as well,” he went on. “They plunder when and where they will. Yet none of these governments have done anything to put them down—not even the British Crown.”

  “So, you took it upon yourself to do so?” Prudence asked, intrigued. Here stood a man who did not merely talk about the evils of the world—he was a man of action. He had actually done something. Like Mr. Wilberforce and Mr. Jenner, Sir James Brownell had made a stand against the oppression of evil and disease in the world. She had to admire him for this at least.

  “Someone had to do something,” he insisted.

  “It is the sheerest luck you lived to tell of it!” she declared.

  “A blessing,” Brownell amended. Warming to his subject, he continued, “Believe me, Miss Pentyre, when I tell you the sun is never so splendid as it is when it rises and sets over the seas in the East. The moon and stars seem much closer there, and the soil on the island of Borneo is rich and warm. Fecundity is rampant. One of the most breathtaking scenes in all the world can be seen while sailing up the steaming Sarawak River, with mangroves and palms standing sentry upon the banks on either side. The monkeys quarrel in the trees. The crocodiles bask in the sun. And the water snakes, Miss Pentyre, you will scarce believe me when I tell you they raise their heads high in the air and fling themselves across the water.”

  “And the natives of the island. What are they like?” Prudence asked.

  “The Dyak of Borneo are smaller than we are, but they live with an intensity we do not. Their eyes glow with life. They never appear languid or bored as we do here,” he replied.

  As she listened, enchanted, Prudence felt a quickening of her blood. It was the sort of stirring rush she had never experienced before—except perhaps when reading poetry or her favorite Psalms. But poor Margaret! She was unromantical, just as Sir James had said. Prudence feared her cousin would never care a whit about Borneo’s warm fertile soil or the sun-browned natives with their happy, glowing eyes.

  “And you long to go back?” she wanted to know.

  “Yes, certainly. There is a fortune to be made in antimony ore.”

  “You admire them?” Prudence quirked an eyebrow.

  “I do,” he admitted. His cheeks flushed slightly.

  Intrigued, Prudence pointed out, “But they are heathen.”

  “Yes, it is sad, is it not? It is why I hope to take a missionary back with me when I return.”

  “Are the women beautiful?” she asked, her curiosity aroused.

  He nodded. “Some are as beautiful as storybook princesses,” he told her with the broad, disarming smile which so transformed his features. “Most of them run about as naked as the day they were born.”

  Prudence blushed fiercely. “Borneo seems a savage land and the people the same.”

  “What a jejune opinion, Miss Pentyre.” For a brief moment, Brownell’s faint smile appeared contemptuous.

  Lady Oldenfield, their amiable hostess, saved Prudence from further humiliation. She was a short woman with fair hair now turning white. With her plump face, plump lips and pronounced dimples, she appeared to be as lively and good-natured as she was fashionably dressed.

  “Sir James, you have monopolized Miss Pentyre long enough.” Her voice quivered on the edge of laughter. Turning to Prudence, she said, “Come, my dear, you must have some refreshment, and then I shall take you to Dr. Phipps for your vaccination.”

  “I have already been vaccinated, Lady Oldenfield,” Prudence informed her. “My father performed the procedure. He is in fact a member of the Royal Jennerian Society.”

  Prudence felt a surge of pride then while thinking of her father’s humanitarian efforts—a benevolent thought quickly followed by a more scathing one. Had her Uncle Giles been more like his younger brother-in-la
w, he would not have died with shameful gambling debts.

  Lady Oldenfield beamed with approval. “It is my belief Mr. Jenner is the greatest hero of our time,” she said.

  “Come now!” Sir James protested. “What of our military heroes?”

  “He is quite superior to any military hero,” Lady Oldenfield insisted. “One must admit such men are seldom admired to any great extent outside the borders of their own country. Edward Jenner is admired by all—a hero for the world.” Her bosom heaved with patriotic pride.

  Prudence gave a brisk nod of approval. “I couldn’t agree more.” She noted how Sir James watched this exchange with some amusement. The man could be extremely disagreeable. He seemed always to be silently making fun of those he conversed with. No wonder Margaret wanted nothing to do with him!

  “Mr. Jenner is a quiet and pensive gentleman, don’t you know?” Lady Oldenfield went on. “I do believe the poor man is a bit befuddled by his sudden rise to fame.”

  “Have you read his booklet?” Brownell asked, composing his face before addressing Prudence.

  “Yes, the third edition,” she admitted with crisp severity. “Have you?” Prudence fixed him with a challenging stare. She couldn’t say why exactly, but she felt as though she was being tested, and she resented it.

  “I have indeed read it,” Brownell replied with a slight inclination of his head. “It has been translated and published in many languages, as you may know. I frequently carry the Dutch, Spanish, and German translations with me on my travels to pass on to those not familiar with Jenner’s procedure.”

  “Enough about your travels, Sir James,” Lady Oldenfield interrupted. “Miss Pentyre and I must take Margaret to Dr. Phipps in the library. I would not be able to face Mrs. Leyes if a protestation occurs before Margaret has undergone the procedure.”

  Prudence felt the icy finger of apprehension tickle her spine. “Is the anti- vaccination league active here in Bath?” she asked, looking first at her hostess and then at Sir James. “They have caused considerable disruption in London, I am told.”