Chapter Twenty
Prudence Rushworth checked the clock in the drawing room; yes, it was almost time. Most of their merry party had gone up early to dress for the ball, and Mrs. Jennings would likely be flitting about, hovering over Miss Price and Miss Crawford, or the Dashwood girls.
Prudence found her in the gallery and called out to the silly woman. “Mrs. Jennings, there you are! Oh, my savior, I am sure.”
Mrs. Jennings gave a jolly laugh. “Oh, dear me, you give me too much credit, I daresay!”
“Well, I wonder if I might trouble you—I have gotten myself into a terrible predicament, but there is no getting out of it now, and the hour is upon me! Oh, but it is dreadfully embarrassing—I have been a foolish old woman!”
“Surely not! But what is the matter?”
Prudence smiled, and gave a dramatic shake of her head. “I told you a few days ago that I had written to a distant relation—an heiress I thought might be a fine catch for James.”
“Oh,” Mrs. Jennings said warily. “I cannot think how I should be of any help with that.” Prudence was obliged to hide a smile—she knew what Mrs. Jennings must be thinking of, and she was far from objecting to that—in truth, Fanny Price was a rather sweet young thing, and Prudence was glad to see James so happy when he was spending time with the girl.
It was not ideal, but James had hardly left Fanny Price’s side since returning from Portsmouth, and after the way James had spoken to her before his impulsive departure, she had reconsidered many things about her son’s future happiness.
The task at hand, however, was of vital importance, and she applied herself to it with all her powers of persuasion.
“Oh, but you can—and you must be! My dear Mrs. Jennings, I made a ghastly error—so unlike me to be so thoughtless—I am quite undone. You see, I have not written to the heiress at all!”
“Really! What can you mean?”
“No, I have not written to my relation, Lucy Sterne. I misread my address book, and I accidentally sent the invitation to another of my relations—Lucy Steele, who is not an heiress at all. Indeed, she is so distantly connected to me that I had never even laid eyes upon her. The letter I wrote her was so brief she must not have understood it was never meant for her—and she wrote back in the affirmative, saying she would be happy to attend—only then did I realize my error, and it was too late. But it is the strangest thing—she claims a connection to you as well, and that is why I must appeal to you for help in receiving her—I expect her any moment.”
“Lucy Steele—gracious me, yes! She is a distant cousin, but such a dear sweet thing she was as a child. But how curious—and how are you connected to her?”
“Distantly, very distantly,” Mrs. Rushworth tutted. “That is why I must beg your assistance. I am sure it shall be awkward—and I cannot have her getting the wrong idea about James, you know.”
“Oh yes, we would not want her to set her cap at him,” Mrs. Jennings laughed.
“Precisely. Well, I am sure she would read too much into it, if James and I received her—but if you were to wait with me, and take charge of her, I am sure she would not perceive any particular favor from me, you see. It must all be done delicately, and I could think of no one better suited to assist me.”
“And you say she is expected any moment?”
“Yes, she is traveling some considerable distance—Lucy Sterne would have only been coming from Bath, and might have arrived yesterday, with time to get acquainted with the house, you know. But Miss Steele will have to go straight up to dress, poor creature! I do not even know if she has anything suitable. I might perhaps ask the girls if they can loan her something—we shall have to have a look at her for sizing.”
“Well, I am happy to help you manage her,” Mrs. Jennings said. “And how funny Lucy should be coming amongst us! What a fine joke, for I had a letter from her just a few days ago myself, asking to come to me in London over the winter.”
“Young people! I am sure I cannot make them out at all,” Prudence said drily. “Well, we had better go down and wait; everyone else is so very occupied with themselves, but I desire to be useful.”
Mrs. Jennings agreed, and the two women went down to the parlor, where the large windows would afford them a view of the front drive. They had not long to wait before Miss Steele arrived, and they met her in the front hall.
Prudence had passed judgement on the creature already, and found her expectations were met quite perfectly, for what she wished to accomplish.
Miss Steele was a pretty creature, in a common sort of way.
To the practiced eye her humble origins were readily apparent from her clothes to her comportment.
But there was something more besides this, something that pleased Prudence tremendously—a wicked gleam in her eye, for Miss Steele looked about the great house with hungry avarice as she made her way inside. It was all very promising.
Prudence was silent as Mrs. Jennings greeted the girl first. “My dear Miss Steele, I wonder if you remember me, child!”
Miss Steele offered an ingratiating smile. “But of course, Mrs. Jennings! Your visits were some of the finest in my childhood, I am sure of it!”
Now Prudence gave a gracious nod of her head. “And I am Prudence Rushworth, Miss Steele. How pleased I am to meet you at last; I believe we share a distant relation on my mother’s side—but I would not want to bore you, not with a ball to be prepared for.”
“Oh, yes—I was so grateful to be invited, that you would think of me at all,” Miss Steele cried, looking between Mrs. Jennings and Prudence. “It is like something out of a fairy tale—Norland is so much grander than I imagined, I grow almost anxious.”
“I claim some kinship to the mistress of the house, and I grow more attached to the place daily,” Prudence agreed, savoring her private triumph.
“Do you? You are a relation of Mrs. Dashwood?” Miss Steele now applied her sycophantic smile to Prudence. “I am rather fearful of meeting her—that is, she has not invited me herself, but I do hope she will like me.”
“I very much look forward to introducing you to her, my dear,” Prudence replied. “But we really must get you dressed. Mrs. Jennings has been quite the advisor to all the young ladies of the house, and you are in very good hands with her.”
Mrs. Jennings launched into action; it was just what Prudence had been depending upon.
“Oh yes, Lucy dear, I shall see to it all! Have you brought something to wear?”
“I had not time to get anything made new,” Miss Steele said with affected modesty. “I had to depart within hours of receiving the invitation to be sure I would arrive in time. But I brought my Sunday best.”
“Well, I shall have a look at it with you, and see what can be done,” Mrs. Jennings replied.
Prudence could not resist the urge to needle her.
“If you find your gown wrinkled from your trunk—you young people are always doing everything so hastily, and I imagine you must have been packing in quite a frenzy—but I am sure we can work it all out. You look to be about Elinor Dashwood’s size.
I am sure she has some castaways Miss Price no longer requires, is that not so, Mrs. Jennings? ”
Prudence watched her subtle jab land very well indeed; Miss Steele did not look best pleased at being offered what was not good enough for Elinor.
Mrs. Jennings took to the plan with alacrity, and led the girl upstairs, leaving Prudence at leisure to congratulate herself, and relish the knowledge that the best was yet to come.
It was not long before they were all congregated in the ballroom, and Prudence strolled the length of the space in a state of great triumph.
John and Fanny Dashwood were welcoming guests for what would be the last time ever; as Margaret fell into step with her, Prudence observed that Elinor and Marianne ought to be with them in the receiving line.
“There is no need for that,” Margaret said, giving her aunt a look of bemusement.
“I suppose not; not yet anyhow. Besides, after the shenanigans, Elinor would not wish to stand there with Edward Ferrars for all the world. Well! Thank Heaven for Julia Bertram, that is all I can say. I ought to make the little trollop a great golden trophy!” Prudence laughed at her own great wit, for surely Margaret would not.
“Aunt,” Margaret chided in her gentle way. “I think there is some affection between Edward and my niece. I certainly do not wish Julia any ill. I am pleased for Elinor, though—I have come to think Edmund is the most superior young man. I know you do not like him….”
“Well! Do not be so hasty—I am feeling very generous this evening, as it happens. I will say it is a mark in the young man’s favor that he seems to despise his father as much as I do!” Prudence laughed again. “I do have a heart, you know, somewhere in there under all the brains.”
“And you are not still angry at James, either?”
“I have waited thirty years for him to finally stand up for himself, to anybody—I have begun to find it amusing that it was me, in the end. I will say this—your niece Fanny is more likely to make him happy than any other lady he has ever shown such marked interest in. She is too sweet to ever do him any real mischief, and too timid to give me any trouble, either, which rather makes up for her lack of fortune. Indeed, Margaret, everything is going very well tonight, and I can forgive the little things that might irk me, when the greater prize is within our grasp.”
“Then you mean to do it tonight?”
“I had thought the stroke of midnight felt the right moment, it lends it all such a maudlin and dramatic distinction. Of course, I cannot promise it will not blow up before then.”
“What do you mean? It is not like you to leave anything to chance,” Margaret whispered warily.